Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was an outgoing, friendly, fun loving sort. She loved Jesus and tried hard to live by God’s word, which she always held as precious. But she wasn’t happy. She was teetering on that awkward stage between adolescence and adulthood. Though legally an adult by all definition she was struggling to grab hold of that practically. She’d been trying to sort out who she was and in the midst of it, tended to self- righteously step on those around her in the attempt to gain some ground. In her fear of being hurt or found out as the out of sorts human she felt she was, she had something akin to a brick wall around her heart. She was determined to live on the defense rather than feel vulnerable in any way. She’d lost friendships because of this and though she’d never dated anyone, she’d become a wee bit flirtatious and flaky in her relationships with the guys in her circle. And to add to it, she had a series of health issues which were causing pain, discomfort, weight gain, and the beginnings of depression.
Ok, I promise I won’t tell the whole story in third person… I just wanted to give you guys a very blunt and honest look at the person I was at the tender but tough age of 19 years young. Can I just say, that I did not make that jump from youth to adulthood gracefully?
I can honestly say it was one of the most difficult seasons of my life. Self righteousness was my defense mechanism and sarcasm my greatest tool at hiding my own insecurities. And I’m not sure if even my middle school years could carry a torch to how awkward I felt. I thought I was doing a good job of hiding all of this but I look back now and I can see it written all over my face.
And it wasn’t just emotional insecurities. I was on medication that had caused quick and significant weight gain and none of my clothes fit. But I was determined to lose the weight rather than get new clothes. So nothing I wore actually fit me… unless I resorted to my fall back… wind pants and a t-shirt (snug though it was). I didn’t carry my body changes well in the least.
Now, in the fall of my Sophomore year of college, my parents had moved from where we lived in Mississippi to Montana/North Dakota in the midst of the oil boom, to help with church planting. By that following summer, I knew I was physically in no place to continue my education or work, so I thought I’d head north (for just a year, mind you) to help my parents in their work and hopefully rest and find some answers to the constant joint pain and headaches I was experiencing. So, I joined my parents in a tiny patch of trees on the prairie of North Dakota, a little town called Arnegard. Like so many living in the area at the time, we parked an RV in a friends yard and called it home. We lived in this tiny, little town with the other 20 people or so who made up the beginnings of our church plant. We were all kind of doing life together.
Sorry, I know this has been quite the intro, but I’m trying to paint the backdrop of who I was and the surrounding circumstances when I met “the guy next door”.
Our RV was parked right next to the post office of our quaint little town. And above the post office was a tiny, little 500 hundred sq. foot apartment. And though he was currently on vacation, I quickly learned that the apartment belonged to the brother of the friend from our church plant whose property we were currently parked on.
All I knew of him was that his name was Derek, he was 27 years old, and was obviously the life of the party because he seemed to come up in conversations nearly all the time with the new friends we were making at our church plant. I can’t say I thought too much about it though. I was 19. And that age 27 just seemed so… “adult” to me.
I remember exactly where I was the first time I saw him. I was sitting at his sister’s house talking with a friend from church at the dinner table. Suddenly, all I could hear was: “Derek’s back! It’s Derek! He’s back from North Carolina!” “Uncle Derek! Uncle Derek! He’s baaaaaaaaack!!!!” (Derek’s sister, Amanda, and her husband Jeff had five kids at the time, all of whom were over the moon to see “Uncle Derek”.)
I sat there, almost annoyed. (A frequent disposition of mine at the time.) In this awkward phase of my life, meeting someone “popular” always made me uncomfortable. Especially an older guy when I wasn’t feeling especially pretty. (I was sporting my pony tail, wind pants, and too snug college t-shirt.) But I was also curious. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was like. His sister was sweet, pretty, a few inches shorter than myself and dressed conservatively in skirts most of the time. So I guess I was naturally expecting someone like the other “conservative” young men I’d met growing up. Maybe he’d be average height, clean cut, soft spoken, wearing a simple pair of jeans and a button up shirt…
My illusions were shattered when into the dining room walked “Uncle Derek!” as loud and boisterous as the nieces and nephews climbing all over him.
“Hey, everybody!”
I remember thinking that his voice was just… well… booming. And there, standing before me, was a ruggedly handsome man about 6’3, with a scruffy goatee, tattooed arms, and a jolly laugh that resonated through the house. He was sporting cargo shorts and a wife beater (funny, because I’ve always hated when he wears those). I later found out he’d been hiking Mt. Rushmore earlier in the day, explaining his slightly unkept appearance.
So, in a moment he went from conservative, reserved young gentleman in my mind to an outgoing, super friendly redneck. I was pretty taken aback, if I’m honest. I wouldn’t say it was love at first sight. I was more shocked than anything.
But my curiosity had been satisfied and I’d finally met Derek of the Legends of Arnegard. (Sounds like something off of Lord of the Ring, doesn’t it?) I think someone briefly introduced us and we waved or something. Maybe, I can’t really remember.
A few days later we were all invited over to Amanda’s for dinner and he and I sat across from one another, but barely exchanged more than a few words. Although… for some reason I couldn’t have expressed at the time, I did decide to slip into the brief conversation that I was “going on 20″… (ummmm… it was August and I had turned 19 in June.)
But then came that one telling evening. Amanda (Derek’s sister), my dad and Derek were out at Amanda’s garden chatting. I decided to take our dog out for a walk and stopped to join the conversation. Before long my dad and Amanda headed inside. I proceeded to stand talking with Derek for the next, well, two hours. (My dog hated me.)
Y’all, never in my life had it been so easy to talk with someone I’d only just met. And the fact that he was a guy and so much older than me made it even more surprising. We talked about anything and everything. I don’t really even remember what. I just know it was a really effortless interaction.
Still, though it struck me as odd, I refused to think much of it. There was no way a 27 year old man was interested in my awkward, insecure, mixed up, immature 19 year old self. So, I left it there.
Well, I did, anyway. I later found out that the whole neighborhood was watching with wrapt attention and speculation.
But for the time being, though I knew our relationship was an unusual one, I honestly saw him as a friend. I invited him to sit with us at our plant’s sister church since he didn’t really know many people there. I’d chat with him whenever we would pass one another in the yard or at Bible Study. (Come to find out my parents were very aware of our interactions… even while I was oblivious.) And then there was the time I invited him to join my parents and me at a local Saturday night rodeo since I knew he’d expressed interest in going.
But earlier, on the Saturday morning of the rodeo, Derek, my brother, and I had planned to go kayaking together at a little spot down the road… until my brother got called into work at the last minute and I figured we’d have to cancel.
But Derek asked if I wanted to go with him anyway.
And I, ever so hesitantly, said yes.
(But to find out where that led and what he said… tune in next week… hehe.)
My Family Freedom 