Like many people, I haven't always believed that a daughter's place is in the home under her father's protection. Neither did my dad. We were both convinced that it was important for me to get that little slip of paper with a B.A. printed on it for future security. Did I want a degree? Not really. I had no idea what in the word I'd do with it once I got it. All I knew was that if anything ever happened to Daddy or to my future husband, I would be able to support a family. I've never really been the "career woman" type. The thought of getting up and going to an eight hour job every day for the rest of my life has always made me shiver. Kind of like putting on the same outfit every day - never changing, just the same old grind. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to get my B.A., get married, settle down to raise a family and forget I'd ever gotten the degree. It would be there just in case I ever needed it, but I had no intentions of using it otherwise. So, I enrolled in college. I didn't have a choice. After all, if you want to be able to function at all in this world you need a college degree, right? Of course, it isn't acceptable to just get the degree and be done with it. It is absolutely imperative that you get a job after graduation. You do want to DO something with you life don't you? All of these things were pressing down on me from all sides. Culture, friends, family, even the church was telling me that in order to have a meaningful life I had to do the very thing I dreaded.
Okay, back up about four years. See that little house up on the hill there? No, not that one. The cream colored one with the rose colored shutters. The one with the little jersey steer in the pasture beside it. Yes, that one. That was my family's little farm. We had cows, chickens. dogs, and at one point we had a horse and a whole family of rabbits. Oh, see that girl coming out of the house? Doesn't she look pretty in the mint green dress? Well, it's kind of hard to see with that apron covering it, but it really is pretty. She made it herself, you know. I bet you can't guess who that girl is. That was me when I was 13. No really, it was. I was a completely different girl then. Dresses, skirts, aprons, all of which my mother and I had made, filled my closet. If I remember right, that green dress was the first one I ever made entirely by myself. I was a very "girly" girl. I loved to read, sew, help Mama in the kitchen, and "tea time" was my favorite time of day. I loved (still do!) ribbons and lace, fine linens and doilies, and anything else that helped to define the word "elegant". College was the furthest thing from my mind. I don't even recall thinking about it before I was 16. I had my life all planned out. Things were going to stay exactly the way they were (with the small exception of a husband and living in my own house of course!).
Sad to say, I had to pay a price for these things. I was the different girl in the crowd. I looked different, I acted different, and I wasn't about to change. Most girls didn't like me because of it. I'll never forget a girl looking me over with disgust written all over her face. When she was through with her inspection she looked down her nose and proceeded to tell me in a biting tone of voice that I looked like something straight out of a 100 year-old magazine. With a final little toss of her head, she glided triumphantly away to join her posse of friends that were a huddled in the corner. I was devastated. The words themselves didn't bother me since I knew for a fact that I didn't look like I came out a 100 year-old magazine. (I don't think ladies wore denim skirts back then!) It was the tone and the utter disgust that this girl had expressed toward me. Was I really that repulsive to people? I knew that I was different and had different tastes and desires than most people, but I'd never really thought anything of it. I knew that was the way God had made me. He had put those tastes and desires in my heart and I knew that He wouldn't have done it if He didn't have a reason for it. But that one girl, with her stinging remarks, put the seed of doubt in my heart. If I was that repulsive to her, maybe everyone else felt the same way but didn't show it as she did. (Note: I have always been a terrible people-pleaser.) I seemed to be the only one with these feminine or "girly" desires so maybe there was something wrong with me.
Okay, fast forward. See that huge clock tower poking it's head over the trees? No, that one belongs to a church. The other one over there behind it. See? That's the local Christian university. There are nearly five thousand students there. It's a small place, as universities go. Not much happens that the whole school doesn't find out about in a matter of days. See that girl on the sidewalk? Sorry, there's a bunch of girls on the sidewalk. I'll point her out to you. The one with the tattered jeans and sneakers. Oh wait, there are several of those. Um...the one wearing the striped shirt. No, that one. The one carrying the big blue bag. Yeah, that one. Would you believe that's me? Changed quite a bit haven't I? This was near the end of my first month in college. That first month was rough. In one short month, my life was turned upside down. I was a completely different person within weeks of the first day of school. Why? Well, I'll get to that.
I started college with the idea that I was just going to get that little slip of paper and then get out as quickly as possible, unscathed by the "college experience". I was still living at home since the university was only a twenty minute drive from the house. Convinced that nothing in my life was going to change except for being gone part of the day and having homework at night, I drove off to college in my little white Honda wearing a denim skirt and heels. (Note: I have absolutely nothing against pants. There are times when I actually prefer them to a skirt. I simply choose to wear skirts because I find them comfortable and they make me feel feminine.) Little did I (or my parents) know, I was in for a devastating culture shock.
My parents had always taught me about "the world". I knew all about the sinful desires and practices that the world endorses, but I didn't fully understand how bad it really was. Nor did I realize how easy it was to fall into without even realizing. This time it wasn't just one girl who made fun of me, but it was nearly everyone I came into contact with. Not that I wasn't accepted. I had a circle of friends, but the all teased me endlessly about my dress and "lack of experience". I didn't know the names of their favorite places to shop, had never seen any of the movies of TV shows they quizzed me about, and their ipods were filled with music that was completely foreign to me. It was more than my people-pleasing nature could stand. I began to transform myself into a more "acceptable" kind of girl. I began to buy tight and revealing clothes and I "expanded" my exposure to different types of media, most of which I wouldn't recommend to anyone. I did everything that I was "supposed" to do. I dressed the way I was "supposed" to even though I found the clothes uncomfortable. I listened to the music I was "supposed" to like even though it gave me a headache. I watched the movies and the shows that I was "supposed" to watch even though I found them trashy and rather stupid. after doing everything I was "supposed" to do for several weeks, I started getting used to it. I came to see these things as "normal" because, after all, everyone else does it and they're good people aren't they? This is a Christian university so it can't be that bad can it? I began to value these people who were teaching me the ways of the world more than I did my own family. I completely rebelled against my parent's authority. My dad and I got into numerous fights over silly things like my curfew. I convinced myself that my parents were the source of all my problems. The things that I said about them to their faces and behind their backs are too terrible to mention. I completely neglected my little sister who looked up to me and copied everything I did. Needless to say, she soon began to follow in my footsteps. I learned how to flirt and get my way in a crowd. I heard language and saw behavior that eventually didn't bother me because it was "normal". I got called horrible names that demean women in the most horrific way only to be told that "it was just a joke". It was normal. Get used to it. Eventually, I did get used to it, and I started participating in it. I stopped praying and reading my Bible. I still went to church because I didn't have a choice, but I'd made up my mind that I wasn't listening to the sermon. I wanted to blend in with the crowd - to be like all the other girls. I wanted a boyfriend. I wanted to be a powerful woman with a powerful job. I wanted, I wanted, I wanted...but deep down none of this made me happy. I was still that 13 year-old girl in the green dress and ribbons. She's been pushed aside and told she was worthless, but in the back of my mind she was still there. She reminded me of how happy and content I used to be. A far cry from the girl that was groping around in the fog of "the word" trying to find something to latch onto so that she could be deemed "normal". For months, I carried on like this, trying desperately to conform myself to the model of womanhood that was presented to me by the world. I was miserable and I couldn't understand why. Here I am trying to model myself after all of these other girls. They seem so happy and bubbly. Why am I so miserable?
Toward the end of my first year, God began working on me. that girl in the green dress started coming back into my mind more and more. Slowly, my eyes were beginning to open, and what I saw shocked me. As the fog began to clear, I looked at my friends and I realized how shallow their friendship really was. They were only my friends because I had changed myself into who they wanted me to be, because I did and said the same things they did, and because I was helping them to justify the sin we were all participating in. I saw the hypocrisy that I'd been blind to. These people were professed Christians. To my mind, that meant that everything they did must be okay. It took a year of wallowing in the world for me to realize that just isn't true.
For the first time, I began to see myself for what I really was: a hopeless sinner who had fallen so deep that I wasn't sure that even God could help me out. I thought I was stuck. After all, I still needed that piece of paper and this was the only way to get it. Even if I could somehow crawl out of the mess I'd gotten myself into, I would still have to be around the same people, the same influences, and the same temptations every day. I'd already been taken in once and I knew that it could very easily happen again. I began to talk to my parents about other educational options. They were so thankful that I'd finally realized what a fool I'd been and we all agreed that I probably wouldn't be going back to that particular school. We discussed several options and finally decided that I would take summer classes at the community college. I did and within a week I saw that I would have the same problems no matter which school I went to. As this realization began to sink in, the girl in the green dress started coming back into view. I missed that girl. I missed how happy and contented she was. Most importantly, I missed her innocence. Her naivety was something that I knew that I could never regain. In fact, I wasn't sure that I wanted to. That naivety was partially what got me into trouble in the first place. But the innocence was something that I did want. I yearned for the purity of a sound mind and a clear conscience, something I hadn't had in a very long time. I began to think about what the girl in the green dress had that I didn't have. Why was she so happy and I wasn't? I had turned back to God and His Word, my relationship with my family was beginning to be repaired, and I had begun to get back into sewing and other things that I love but just hadn't had the time for. Still, things just didn't seem right.
Fast forward to today. See that house? No, it's not the same little house on the hill. This is a different one. This one's bigger and brown with black shutters. See it? See that girl up there cleaning one of the upstairs windows? Bet you can't guess who that is. It's me. Yes, I know it's Monday, but I'm here at home helping Mama keep house. My family and I have been through quite a journey to get to this point. There was a lot of heartache involved for each of us. We realized that we were taken in by the word's notion that a college degree is the answer to your problems. If you have a degree you can make more money. If you have a degree it's easier to get a good job. If you have a degree you can be whatever you want to be and do whatever you want to do. (I can give many examples of how these statements are not true.) I found out the hard way that college was not the answer to my problems. In fact, it caused more problems than I could have ever thought possible.
The decision for me to stay at home was voted unanimous by all parties. There was only one condition that Daddy gave: I had to come up with some way to make good use of my time. (Aside from being a people-pleaser, I have also acquired the reputation of being slightly lazy. only slightly...) So, I promised to make good use of my time and that was that. I've been home ever since and I absolutely love it. I help Mama with the house and the cooking, attempting to keep everything as organized as possible. I run a private taxi service for my younger sister, and I finally have time to indulge in my hobbies. I've also begun to teach piano lessons so that I can contribute to the family economy. The time that I get to spend with my family now is absolutely fabulous. I have learned so much from them and I feel like we are closer now than we've ever been. I've also had more time to spend studying the Bible. God has revealed so much to me lately through His Word. The knowledge and understanding of God's truth is such a peaceful and freeing thing. Serving God, my family, and others through my home brings me such joy. I know that I am living out the plan that God intended for women. To earn how to love and respect her husband by loving and respecting her father, to learn how to nurture children and run a house by helping her mother, and to learn how to be a woman of godly character from both.
As I look back on my college experience, it is amazing to me how evident God's hand is in everything that took place. The doors opened for me to go to college. It basically reached out and grabbed me. The people that I met and the experiences I had were all God-intended to make me realize that His plan for me is far better than anything the world can come up with. He created the home and He gave me parents for a reason. That reason was that He knew that I needed guidance and protection from the world and from the selfish desires of my own heart. I guess He decided that I needed to learn that lesson the hard way.
Although it was a painful experience, I'm glad God put it in my life. It is something I will never forget. Whenever my rebellious and selfish spirit begins to rise inside of me, I will always have the memory of what happened the last time I decided to do things my way. I will always remember the misery and confusion that I encountered out in "the real world". The memory of the drifting sensation that came with a lack of purpose is something that will stay with me forever.
Now, I have a purpose. I was created to be a wife and mother living for the Lord. What better place to learn than right in my own home?
