Torch, Winter 1983

I stood at the church entrance. It had taken every ounce of energy to get the baby ready in time. I was nervous and wondered if my own dress had any fresh spots of formula. There was no use delaying , for at all costs I wanted to avoid a grand entrance . I hugged the baby close , took a deep breath , and walked through the door . Throughout the night I had struggled and prayed about going back to church . A rebellious teenager, I had accepted Christ shortly after the birth of my daughter. In the last six weeks I had become used to the term, single parent. It disguised a myriad of problems and emotions and came in handy for quick explanations. I had met other single parents at work and college. The world afforded some measure of acceptance. My doubts and fears focused more on the church . What Sunday school class should I attend? Singles seemed a little ridiculous and married couples a little bizarre . I even considered sitting in the nursery just to prove that I was a responsible parent. That first Sunday was full of fears; it was also full of hope . I needed Christian fellowship . I wanted to sing and hear a sermon. Though different, I hoped to find a special place with these people . As a struggling young Christian , I needed them . The nursery was my first stop. I was pleased as some stopped along the way for a closer look at the baby . I was alone, but still bursting with the warm pride of any new parent. The nursery staff held out welcome arms and asked all the questions new mothers love to answer. So far , so good. I nervously crushed a tissue as I headed toward the Sunday school classes. It seemed providential that the pastor had just started a new adult class. I could fit into that category. The discussion was interesting and challenging. Class members were kind and understanding . I knew many in the church had prayed for me throughout my pregnancy and recuperation . It touched my toughened heart when some sent cards and gifts. I remembered so vividly one package from a woman I hardly knew . It was wrapped in a soft pink paper. The bow was made of a lacy white ribbon. Inside was a beautiful Polly Flinders dress and white bonnet. It was a luxury I never could have afforded . It meant so much to receive tangible evidences of caring. Between Sunday school and church I checked on the baby . She was being cuddled and rocked by one of the nursery workers . Obviously, she was enjoying this time of special care. For that first Sunday and many thereafter, I was grateful for that nursery staff. They could never fully know what their care meant, and also how wonderful it was for me to be free during the teaching times . I went on to church. I chose an empty row and settled down . A few moments later, a family of six clamored in beside me. I felt like the intruder until the wife leaned over and invited us to Sunday dinner. Though not sure I wanted to say yes, I didn't know how to graciously decline . It was a wonderful day. Both the baby and I enjoyed sharing time with such a dynamic family . As we played games, I silently prayed that someday my own family would be so happy and complete. It was just the beginning of special friendships with many families . Through the years my daughter has had the opportunity to understand families and see dads in action. Though our relationship was always close , I wanted her to see living object lessons ofGod ' s plan for marriage and children . The warm welcome by the people in the church gave me a desire to grow and mature in the Lord. Although our own family was lacking a husband and a dad , our church family allowed us to share family times with them. As time went on, I was able to share with others the heartache of rebellion . In a way , I too was an object lesson. The acceptance of Christian friends gave me the confidence to serve the Lord . Once my education was completed, I taught in the Christian school for six years . I also did volunteer work for a Christian organization. They asked me to serve full time . It was the opportunity I had dreamed of many times. Five years later I married one of the young men on the staff. The Lord has been so good and my prayer of earlier years has been answered above my greatest expectations. We are now a complete Christian family. But we will never forget the special people who became our closest friends over the years. They were my confidants and prayer partners, grandparents to my daughter, and sisters to me. It was their encouragement and love that made me willing to cooperate with God. They were not my judges nor my parole officers. They did not remind me of the past nor try to limit the future. For these people, I am forever grateful to the Lord and pray that my life and my home will be a similar testimony to the character of God . 17