God, help me, I keep falling! | The cries of a young teenager's heart
Idioma: inglés
Editorial: AuthorHouse, 2011
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God, help me, I keep falling! | The cries of a young teenager's heart | Demetria R. Harper Ma | Taschenbuch | Kartoniert / Broschiert | Englisch | 2011 | AuthorHouse | EAN 9781456752637 | Verantwortliche Person für die EU: Libri GmbH, Europaallee 1, 36244 Bad Hersfeld, gpsr[at]libri[dot]de | Anbieter: preigu Print on Demand.
N° de ref. del artículo 123728539
- Título
- God, help me, I keep falling! | The cries of a young teenager's heart
- Autor
- Demetria R. Harper Ma
- Editorial
- AuthorHouse
- Año de publicación
- 2011
- Estado
- Neu
- Encuadernación
- Taschenbuch
- Idioma
- inglés
- ISBN 10
- 1456752634
- ISBN 13
- 9781456752637
- Peso del artículo
- 80 gramos
- Dimensiones
- 203 x 127 x 4 mm
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Fragmento. © Reproducción autorizada. Todos los derechos reservados.
God, Help Me, I Keep Falling!
The Cries of a Young Teenager's Heart
By Demetria R. HarperAuthorHouse
All rights reserved.
Let me introduce you to Chelsie:
When I was at the tender young age of five, I remember riding my bicycle so carefree in our immaculate yard. I was free from the cares of this life and I knew not the pressures which lied ahead of me. Sometimes I wish I could go back to that day. I now call it the "good old days." But because of Adam and Eve, all had to be faced with the adversity of this day.
I recall pretending to be a teacher and heck, sometimes a preacher. My grandmother kept my sister and I in church Sunday after Sunday and sometimes on school nights. So, I guess now I was just mimicking what I saw from the sermons that I had heard. The whole preaching thing just down right fascinated me. The small southern atmosphere was a great one overall to be raised in. We stayed way out in a small rural community with very few neighbors, but the few neighbors we had were very much friendly.
I grew up without a father, meaning my mom and dad divorced when I was about three years old. My mom raised my sister and I the best way that she could, but she had help from my dear grandmother, her mother. My grandmother played an integral and pertinent part in our lives. She was my life and truly she was the glue that held us together. Her guidance and discipline brought me a long way, as well as, the morals and values that she instilled in me. My mom was a young mother when she birthed us. I guess you might say she didn't have it all together because of her young age. However, she did her best at the time. Mom was a party mom. She would go out and party hearty on the weekends and leave us home with my grandmother. My grannie didn't mind keeping us sometimes, but I precisely remember hearing her tell my mother, "You just need to slow down and keep your own kids sometimes." Now do you really think for a moment she stopped or minimized her clubbing? Guess what, she took us with her, but not inside the club. We sat in the car with her and her friend. You see, back then in this small town you were allowed to hang out in parked cars on the street.
Oh my! What a way to sow seeds into your child's life. Now what kind of harvest do you think came from such a seed? Even now, as I am writing this I cannot help but to think about the young, single mom who has already or is sowing these seeds of regret. If you are married or single with a child or children, remember God has created and ordained you to train up your child to be righteous, holy, obedient and respectful. We are accountable to God in how we raise them up. Do a self evaluation on yourself. Are you leading by a good example? What kind of seeds are you sowing into your child?
As I share my story with you, it is my hope that it will totally transform your life forever, as well as, the lives you hold so dear to you. May the eyes of your understanding be lit just like a city that sits on the hill that cannot be hidden.
Growing up without a father was hard sometimes because, you see, my dad spent time with us, but he too, was young and unfocused. My dad would hang out a lot at the local bars and drank and party a lot and just didn't keep a clear mind long enough to be the father I longed for him to be in my life. My spirit thirst for the father God ordained for him to be. My dad also partied a lot and would take a few swigs of dranks and just didn't keep a clear mind. You see, there is a difference between a father and a dad. A father is one who is always there and is sober-minded when he is there. A dad to me is just the opposite and this is why I call my dad, "Dad." I loved him so and he meant so much to me, but I needed the real man to stand up and father me. My dad used to come and pick me up and I would go with him around to the mall, movies, and out to eat a lot. This time with him meant so much to me and it made me feel loved and cared for. After hanging out with him I always felt like I could do anything and that I could climb the highest mountain. How I longed for more of his time but it was limited and shared with the demons that controlled and enslaved his soul for the pleasures of this world. I enjoyed the time that I spent with my dad, it was the missing piece to the puzzle in my life. It kept me well-rounded and balanced as a young lady. My dad was my super hero but I needed him to rescue me completely from this peer pressured teenage life. I heard that the reason my parents divorced was because they were just simply too young and immature to be married. They were to young souls ignorant of the true meaning of love and battling with the lust of carnality. Since I found that out, I knew that the split-up was for the best, therefore, it never bothered me.
My mom was a good mom, in that she always kissed me and told me just how much she loved me. It felt authentic and genuine. My grandmother was more of the disciplinarian when we were just plain out hard-headed. My mom never wanted to whip us, but with my Grannie, you didn't stand a chance. She would whip us pure naked, meaning she made us strip our clothes off. This technique was done so that we would feel every inch and print of the switch. Now, she was a devout Christian woman who strongly believed in the scripture about not sparing the rod of correction. My, mom, a young vivacious woman was doing all she knew to do in order to love, protect and care for us. However, later on she went on to achieve her high school diploma and obtained a four year degree in political science. Also, my dad currently holds a two- year degree in electronic engineering. She worked at the local doctor's office as a receptionist day in and day out, working to provide food, housing and clothing for us. And you know there wasn't ever a time that she murmured or complained. She was so strong, but I now know that if it hadn't been for the Lord who was on her side, we wouldn't have made it. God is the answer to all of our hurts, pains, heartaches and adversities. He is all we need. It is not another man, woman, another drink, crack cocaine or whatever our stronghold maybe. God is a deliverer and a rewarder of those who seek Him!
Our grandmother loved cooking us those good home-cooked, southern hospitality meals. One summer day in mid-August, she was cooking us a delicious meal. She sang while she was cooking as she normally would do and I can precisely recall her singing like I'd never heard before. It was almost unusual, but I listened and enjoyed the sounds of her strong, vibrant, soprano voice. My sister and I were watching T.V. and waiting for our dinner. Grannie went back to lie down and read her Bible before she finished cooking. Suddenly, I heard a noise, like someone choking and I went into Grannie's room and there she lay on her bed on her back, having a seizure. So, I called 911 and my mom at work. The ambulance rushed her to the Emergency Room. Little did I know that this would change our lives forever. Shortly, she was pronounced dead in the Emergency Room. My life, how I once knew it, was shattered and the days ahead were dark and gloomy without her. My glue, my bond ... was gone. Oh, how I missed her! Now I thought, "Who would hold us together or who was going to meet our needs when my mom fell short of money?" Suddenly confused and full of emptiness, I just didn't know what to do. Where were all the sermons that I had heard and meditated on and once mimicked so well? My mind was cloudy with racing thoughts. We all had such a tough time coping with her lost. We not only lost a mother or a Grannie, but we lost our hope. We lost our support. We lost a friend.
For the Bible states that God would not put any more on us than we can bear and he made us a promise that He would never leave us or forsake us. We must believe that God is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him. He is the source of our strength and He will not suffer our foot to be moved. Praise God! I hear Ecclesiastes saying that in much knowledge there is also much grief. In other words, when the eyes of your understanding are opened, you'll see by the spirit. And all things seen by the spirit will not be good or entertaining. But, I have discovered that I would much rather be in the know. Thank you, Holy Spirit, for opening up the eyes of my heart so that I might see what you see. Oh, God of heaven and earth, how I long to see you just as you are!
Many months had passed since the death of my grandmother and as each passing day went on, we became stronger and stronger. Through many tears and prayers, we made it through. However, things simply were not the same. My mom and dad continued to live their same old lives, which wasn't helping us at all. My mom was in relationship after relationship. She was searching for her one true love but in all the wrong places. However, if she would've followed God's direction and guidance for her life ,she would not had been faced with the disappointments in finding her true love. Now, she wasn't clubbing as much, because she didn't have a babysitter. As you can recall, my Grannie was once the babysitter. So, now the party was brought into our home. We stopped going to church and it seemed like all Hell broke lose around us. My environment was forming and shaping me. At this young pre-teen age, there was nothing that I could do about it. My mentor had left me and gone on with her Lord and now I was all alone, so it seemed, without instruction, rules, discipline or proper training on how to be a teenager. You see, my Grannie was my role model and a very good example to follow. She was my blueprint for life on how to best live this life on this side. Now, my only examples and role models were my young and unfocused parents. Therefore, I followed them.
During my early teen years, I would take summer trips alone to California to visit my Aunt. My interest in boys started a little before I left for my first California trip. I was a very attractive young lady with curly brown hair but short in stature, with a beautiful appealing smile and I had big dreams for my life. Around the 5th or 6th grade, I wasn't much a looker, but something amazing began to happen after the 6th grade. Boys were pulling on me and writing little love notes to me. I really didn't like them touching me or talking dirty to me, but I began to enjoy talking with them over the phone. Soon my mom got me a line of my own, which was the right thing, but maybe then again, it wasn't. By then, I was 14 years old in Junior High. I remember my mom held a party at our house for my sister since she was a little older and I received my first kiss from a guy named Walter. I liked it, but it was too wet for me and he was trying to do more than just kiss, so I just left.
Girls were already beginning to envy me with a passion so deep. Oh boy, did they envy Chelsie! As soon as I blossomed into something attractive, the lies and jealousies began. I used to hate this and I never understood how people could be so envious over one person and make up so many lies to make one look bad. But again, now through knowledge, I realize that people are not happy with themselves and in the natural, in this world, they will never be. So, envy will exist until the end of time.
I thought that I fell in love for the first time when I went on my first California trip to the city to visit my Aunt. I remind you that I was already showing an interest in boys. During this hot, sultry summer, I met a tall, geeky looking, extremely dark complexioned young guy named Brad. The scenery of guys was different from that of the country boys and the variety was huge! I felt like I was in "la-la land" on a big cloud, just wanting to float into something, or may I say, something like one of those beautiful attractive guys. I had a body that just wouldn't quit growing. At the time I knew this, I had already began to look much older than 14 and my conversation was always older than my age, which I received because I always hung around gown-ups. I remember my mom trying to get me to do something else and get out of her conversation and of course, the guys wanted to get to know the new chick on the block and would probably have done just about anything to get it. I was young and naïve and my little engine begin to get curious.
My cousin Shawn introduced me to Brad one day in the park. I guess he was scoping me, as well. I thought that he was the sweetest guy that I had ever met, and his dark, dark skin was so appealing to me that I melted like ice just by the sound of his deep, but kind voice. He was slim and of average height with a keen gangsta profile. His gear was definitely thuggish. I never knew that I would become attracted to a roughneck from California, but I was deeply attracted to him. Our moments were exciting, but short. The time was going fast and soon the summer would be over. My love, my prince, would be no more and little did I know that I would feel great pain of absence and that the time would be soon over. I thought that good-bye would be easy, but it was hard as heck. Then, on my ride to the airport, I finally got my feelings back in tact. I would now be alright because we agreed that we would write and see each other for Christmas. But little did I realize that this first notion of love and of abstinence would be one of the hardest things young Chelsie would face.
I soon returned home from a fairly long flight from California to Raleigh, NC. I had already told my mom about my new found love earlier during the summer. I went into my room, which I didn't miss and began to unpack my clothes. I suddenly began to think about him, my sweet dark, dark prince. It was then that I felt this terrible knot in my stomach, and then it raced up to my heart and cut into it like a knife. The tears rolled uncontrollably, as I cried until my eyes became red and swollen, even way after I had stopped. I just couldn't seem to replace this emptiness that hurt so badly. My mom tried to assure me that I would see him in December and for that next summer, but it all seemed too long. As I write, I can still recall the pain of loneliness and emptiness. In our letters, we spoke of how much we missed each other and how much we loved one another. I soon began to feel alright without him, but I still cried from time to time when I thought of him for too long. Imagine, I was now 15 years old, in the 10th grade, with only this guy on my mind and I wasn't about to cheat on him. After all, I wanted him to be the first to kiss and hold, and maybe, lose my virginity to when that time came.
Amazingly, any song that reminded me of him made me cry like a baby and I became afraid that I was going back into the beginning stages of this abstinence of him. God knew I couldn't bare it so soon. I only had a few guy friends, but freaked out when one of them would try something affectionate. All I could think of was that I was "Brad's girl." Finally, it was December and Christmas came. I flew up to California alone again, but I was happy and full of joy. Seeing him again was like a blessing in disguise and it felt so good to hold him, to finally love him. This was one of the best holidays that I had experienced in a long time. We couldn't spend a lot of time together because of my Aunt and her strict rules about the city slickers and their games. By the way, I would soon learn that she was very right. Christmas time in California consisted of plenty of gifts, family laughter and joy, but most of all, it consisted of Brad, my prince. I, Chelsie Wright, was the happiest 15 year old alive. I remember one afternoon Brad and I sat on the balcony of our apartment building holding each other and lightly kissing. Ever since that wet kiss earlier in my teens, I was disgusted with all that saliva. Some how he understood that and how I still couldn't do that with him yet because I was simply not ready to lose my pureness that God gave me.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from God, Help Me, I Keep Falling! by Demetria R. Harper. Copyright © 2011 Demetria R. Harper, MA.. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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