Sunday, June 17, 2018

WHO PROTECTS A SCRAPPER?

WHO PROTECTS A SCRAPPER?
By the age of four, I was a scrapper. Some called it selfish, but for me it was self-preservation. At four-years-old, I had a two-year-old brother and one-year-old sister. I could see this wasn’t working out for me, so I wrapped all my favorite stuffed animals and toys, as well as my clothes, in a blue blanket and headed out the door and down the driveway. I didn’t get very far before mom coaxed me back, announcing that my favorite TV show was about to start.

My first day in kindergarten, I bit a girl on the arm when she cut in front of me to get on the swing. The teacher called my parents.

I learned early on that dad was busy working late, mom had to take care of my younger siblings, and I had to fight for myself. When some older neighborhood kids tied me up and locked me in their garage with a hose underneath the door so they could torment me with threats from outside, there was no one to come to the rescue. I screamed in terror at the top of my lungs until the older kids let me out. I’m not sure if my parents ever even knew about that.

In sixth grade when the boys made fun of me, I wrestled Lex Garcia to the ground, pinning him down so he couldn’t get up till the teacher made me get off him.

Being a scrapper, I grew up fighting for myself. Then when I became a Christian, I fought for my friends and the people I loved. I still do, just different weapons.

I don’t blame anyone in my family for not making me feel protected. Those early years jaded my thinking, and I was pretty good at hiding my feelings. I grew a hard shell and a tough persona. I didn’t have the feeling or experience of a father who fought for me, or a big brother either. They probably didn’t know I was in so much trouble, or they felt I was tough enough on my own. I always felt I was on my own. And even with God, I knew He would eventually bring justice to pass, but not quickly. Until now.

Recently some things happened that made the hair on my arms stand up, the hackles of my mind raise up, ready to fight.  Isaiah 51:20 describes it perfectly: “Thy sons have fainted, they lie at the head of all the streets, as a wild bull in a net: they are full of fury.” That was me. I felt like I was right back in that garage, little Carolyn, tied up, terrified, and enraged. I did my best to hold my tongue, but some slipped out. But this time it was different. My Father God and my big brother Jesus brought swift judgment on those who would bully me and bring me down.

In all my life, I’ve never seen it happen so fast! I was shocked, and I’ll never again doubt that God has my back. He has your back too. He is a great, great father!

If you have a father in the natural who you know has got your back, you are a very blessed person. And if you are a father, try to be this person for your kids.

If you’ve never felt the protection of a father or big brother in your natural life, then I am praying that you will have an experience like I did, where God’s fatherly actions are unmistakable and life-changing.

Love, Carolyn

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