Permission to Speak Freely – Free Excerpt #3
She’s been around the ragamuffinsoul.com community for years. My friend Anne Jackson’s second book, Permission to Speak Freely – Essays and Art on Fear, Confession and Grace releases today. I’ve asked her to share one of the essays from her book with you. Anne decided to share seven essays on seven different blogs, this being the third. For the rest of the essays, check out the links at the end.
Anne is also giving away a copy of her book to two ragamuffin readers, chosen at random, on Friday. So answer the question at the end and leave a comment to be entered to win.
You can pick up a copy of the book here.
Essay #3
My dad “resigned” in April of my sophomore year. Months went by, the
summer passed, and I thought maybe, just maybe, we’d end up staying in
Abilene. After all, this was the longest we had lived anywhere. I
began my junior year, was doing great academically, and had started
playing basketball again after hurting my knee the year before.
The only two people I trusted in the world were there—my best friend,
Julie; and the object of my first starry-eyed romance, a senior named
Nathan, who worked at IHOP and made the most amazing cherry cokes for
me.
A month or two into my junior year, my mom got a job offer to teach at
an elementary school in Dallas.
It was time to move.
Leaving Abilene meant leaving Julie and Nathan. And leaving Julie and
Nathan meant leaving a hole in my heart bigger than the state of
Texas.
The first sixteen years of my existence had included church, farming,
basketball, and more church. Before moving to Dallas, Abilene was the
largest city I’d lived in, and with three Christian colleges and a
church on every corner, it was just about as full of Churchianity as a
place could get.
Dallas was different.
Sure, there was still a church on every corner, but on the highways
were strip clubs, big malls, and more billboards per square mile than
I’d ever seen in my days living in West Texas. There were more than
four radio stations, and many of them used words I had never heard
before.
My dad was markedly depressed and withdrawn, and our family was pretty much
financially ruined. When I enrolled in school, I learned that since I
had been on an honors track my first two years of high school, I had
more credits than a typical junior.
My school counselor informed me if I dropped out of the honors program
and stuck to the regular track, I could graduate as a junior that
year. And if I graduated as a junior, that meant I could move out and
move back to Abilene, back to Nathan (and Julie, too, of course). If
all went as planned, I would graduate a couple of months after my
seventeenth birthday.
This new high school was enormous: well over five hundred kids in my
grade and over two thousand on campus. And it was certainly more
diverse than Abilene. Girls in the orchestra would make out in the
bathrooms, and there were boys who wore makeup and had various body
parts pierced.
We didn’t go to church anywhere. We tried a few times, but it was too
painful—for my dad, because he saw someone else in the pulpit living
out his dream, and for my mom, because she projected her heartbreak
and lack of trust on the members of whatever church we visited.
Even though I had officially told God I wanted nothing to do with Him,
the culture shock of my new territory drove me to find comfortable
space. I got a job working at a Christian bookstore down the road
(aside from seminary students, there’s nobody more knowledgeable about
Bibles and Christian products than a lifelong preacher’s kid).
At the bookstore, we got a poster to hang in our window for that
year’s “See You at the Pole,” an annual event where students gather
around their school’s flagpole and pray. At my school in Abilene, I
was one of the leaders every year. I wondered if my new school was
participating, because I hadn’t seen anything about it.
I checked around and found out that nobody had ever conducted a “See
You at the Pole” at my new school. After making some calls to some
churches and sending e-mails to some pastors, I tracked down a local
youth minister who said he had some material I could use to start it
up and advertise it.
Because we didn’t go to church anywhere and he wasn’t my youth pastor,
we arranged to meet at a local Wal-Mart so he could hand off the
posters and leader’s kit. My mom drove me to the store, and I waited
for him in the food court. He showed up, looking barely old enough to
be called a pastor, wearing a ball cap. We sat down to go over the
material.
It was going to be difficult to get momentum going because the event
was only two weeks away, but I tried my best. Nervous that nobody
would show up and I’d look like an idiot rocking out to the latest DC
Talk album and praying by a flagpole alone, when the morning of the
prayer time approached, I stood off to the side to see if anyone even
came close.
Nobody did.
So I went on to English class, once again certain that my decision to
leave my faith behind was a good one.
A couple of days later, the youth pastor called to see how things went.
And then he asked me over to his place to watch a movie.
——–
What about you? Did you move a lot growing up or did you stay in the same place?
For the first essay, visit Don Miller’s blog here and follow the chain…
For the next essay, visit Pete Wilson’s blog here.
RAIN IT DOWN
I didn’t move a whole lot growing up. My family attended the same church since I was born. I attended a local elementary school. A lot of kids from the elementary school went to the same combined jr. high and high school. Then college came, but a few of my good high school friends came with me to college (the same ones I had known since kindergarten). We ended up rooming together and having a blast our senior year. We also all attended the same church, one that was close to the college campus. It was at that church I really found family, community, and a home.
Now I’m in law school in a completely different area. When I moved here I didn’t know a soul. I didn’t have friends. I didn’t have a church. I had never done this before, and I didn’t really know what to do. I can’t imagine moving around as much as Anne did. It’s been a couple weeks now. I’m adjusting…slowly, but to be honest, a part of me feels like I don’t know what to do with myself.
I moved quite a bit when I was really young, traveled a lot through my teen years, and now that I’m almost 20 things are finally settling down.
My mother lived in Alaska and my (awful) father lived in Missouri. I remember loving every summer when I would get so spend a whole month with my mom. My sister and I got excited every time we got on a plane and went to see her.
Now she lives nearby and I see her everyday, my husband and I have been in the same area for over half our lives now, and I get to see my family all the time.
We are getting ready to move (for the 3rd time since we’ve been married) closer to the city.
We don’t like staying somewhere for too long!
Lived in the town I was born until 23 when I moved 2500 miles away. Not going back either.
The house I am living in now is only the second house I have ever lived in.
And it is also where I work now, so I guess I am a homebody.
If “while you were growing up” includes some of my adulthood, I lived in 13 or 14 houses by the time I was 21. I’ve moved a lot since then too
.
I grew up as a “RAF Brat” – my dad being in the Royal Air Force. We travelled around a lot, never putting down roots for too long and always living with a inherent detachment from all those around. I made friends, but only loosely as there was no guarantee that they were going to still be there in one month, nor any promise that we would.
Making friends outside of the armed forces was pretty much discouraged, how could they understand or appreciate the constant threats we lived under (terrorism was a major issue for us during the 70s/80s and early 90s) and no civilian could begin to comprehend the lifestyle (or at least, that’s how we always saw it)
Yet despite all this, I loved it. We moved around, life was interesting and I got to see so much of the realities of the world, and yet also get to see some of the wonders.
It all came crashing down when I made the fatal mistake of making civilian friends and getting involved in a non-forces church. I rebelled against the control that the forces had over us and swore to never be forced into moving unless I was ready, and to never force that lifestyle on my family.
As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to love my childhood. I’ve come to fully appreciate the life we had – but I’ll still never put my family in a situation where we move every few months, or couple of years.
I worked out a while ago that I’ve lived in over 25 different houses – not bad for a 37 year old is it? Especially as we spent 3.5 years in 1, 5 in another and I’ve lived here with my family for the past 8 years!
I’ve moved a lot in my life. California, Boston, Baltimore, Illinois, Michigan. I was oblivious to my parents’ hurt on anything. not sure how I would have handled being privy to what you were.
I didn’t move a bit growing up. Lived in the same tiny community til I was 19, when I moved to the big city of East Lansing, MI to attend MSU (GO SPARTANS… sorry, football season kicks off this weekend!). Needless to say, the adjustment to a big college life didn’t exactly strengthen my faith. I fell. Hard.
God is gracious. Now, I’m a youth & worship pastor, lovin’ my life. God is good!
I was a preacher’s kid so we moved like 4 or 5 times before I left for college. It was most tramatic for my sister, six years younger. God called my dad to a new church just before her senior year, where she’d been in school since 3rd grade.
Mom and Dad made her move, but realized the detriment and let her move back and stay with a church family to finish her senior year.
My B&N must have had an early release because I saw it on Friday. Gosh it is one good lookin’ book.
I can not wait to read it.
To answer the question. If I had a good throwing arm, or could spit….I could hit the house I grew up in (it is one street over, 2 houses up).
My parents live 1.3 miles from that house and my sister lives 3. ALthough she did have a house at the top of this street for a few years when she was first married.
Erm. I lived in Phoenix for 18 months and ran back home as fast as I could!
shortly after i was born, we moved across the street. i had no reaction or opinion. in 3rd grade we moved 9 blocks away. i didn’t even change schools, but my stomach was in knots. the first week of my senior year in high school, we moved 1200 miles away. from the industrial northeast to the deep south. i nearly died of anxiety. that was 36 years ago, and i’ve survived and even thrived. i dare say that had i NOT moved in my senior year, i’d have never become a christian… calvinists will strongly disagree
btw, as an adult in ministry, i think moving to different places is one of the most exciting things in the world!
6 schools in 12 years growing up..I cant count the number of different residences, one step ahead of the bill collector..
I never moved growing up. I even lived at home through college. I only moved after getting married.
I loved once, when I was four. My parents built a house next door to the house we were living in… not very traumatic.
My husband is in the navy. We move all the time. When my daughter was celebrating her fourth birthday, she asked what kind of house we would live in on her fifth. We had moved every year the first four years of her life.
I see how traumatic it is. I hope one day, they can be happy because they’ve seen the world. Two of my girls were born in Iceland. They literally know people living all over the world. I hope one day they will see the value in it. Today, with skype and email I think it must easier than it was in the past.
Trust me…they will. They’re learning invaluable people skills. I do not regret one minute of my childhood. What I miss most about the military life is the sense of community. Military families take care of their own like nobody’s business.
Take care and rest easy lil’ mama. Your babies will be just fine.
My Dad was in the Army so we moved every two to three years, sometimes that was good other times it was heart wrenching. Then I married someone who had lived in the same town his entire life who joined the Army and we were on the road again!
We moved from NY to TX when I was 8 months old.
Then we moved from TX to Mo when I was 5.
My parents still live in the same house I “grew up” in.
Yep, moved around a lot. Grew up military, and lived from coast to coast, and foreign as well. Not that fun growing up, but we were a strong family by God’s grace, and I look back with appreciating on the experiences we had.
Army brat here. 12 schools in 12 years.
My family moved once, two months before I turned four. My dad was working in a different city, so we moved a half hour away, right in between my dad’s work and our church. I do remember parts of moving. My brother was born just under a year after the move, and my sister was only a year and a half, so she doesn’t remember anything. I remember looking at houses during the process of finding a place. The house my parents are in now is the house I grew up in.
I hate moving. In college it always felt like I had to pack and move every few months, which is kinda true. Moving out for the summer and then back in for the fall was always the worst. I’ve been in my apartment for over a year and a half now, and not having to pack everything or unpack it has been so wonderful.
I stayed in the exact same city from the time I was born until the day I left for college. I moved twice within that city – I don’t remember the first move, as I was only a year old, but the second move across town occurred when I was 6 1/2 and was about as traumatic (in my opinion) as a move across the country. Change was not my friend, as it came hand-in-hand with the unknown and unfamiliar. The move to college (four hours from home) was a huge step of faith, and it took about a year to finally feel adjusted.
It was definitely worth the required faith to be able to grow the way I did from that final move.
I moved states when I was 5 but that was it. My wife on the other hand moved a lot. When I took my current job, the possibility of moving back to that town was very good. In fact we wanted to move back to that town. But that meant selling our current home.
The issue was the prepayment penalty on our home. We would have to wait about a year and half before we could sell our home and make anything off of it. Then the housing market crashed and what we thought we could make off of it went down the drain with the rest of the market.
Since that time our boys have started school and our oldest is now in his third year of cub scouts and has some great friends there. My wife and I talked about this about six months ago and she told me what it was like as a child to move and we have decided that it’s best if we stay put for a while. It means a lot more driving for me but for the stability for our boys it’s worth it.
dj
Only moved once, but that was rough. I’m 27 now, and I’m still not sure what to say when people ask me where I’m from.
I moved between two states multiple times during high school to try to escape the chaos in my life. My parents, divorced, lived 1500 miles apart, and I spent my high school years going back and forth until I finally landed in Utah for 4 years. I still have nightmares about moving. Most of them are about me making a snap decision to move back to Utah, arriving in shambles, and crying out that I didn’t really want to move. I didn’t want to leave my friends. I didn’t get to say goodbye. The scariest part of the dreams for me is that those feelings were a reality. I always left without saying goodbye because I thought it would be easier. I never really wanted to move, I just wanted the chaose to stop. And I always deeply missed the people I left behind.
33 years in same town.
I moved around a lot. My dad was a pastor, and his ministry took him all over. I’ve lived in three different places in Iowa, in Missouri, in Texas, in North Carolina, in Nevada, and now in California. I am grateful for the experience because I know that wherever I go I will be able to survive and make friends. I also learned that “home” is not a place, but it’s wherever your family is.
I lived in the same place my whole life. Obviously I’ve never experienced the “move a lot” side of things, but I do know staying in one town doesn’t protect you from losing friends or feeling alone.
Despite being a military kid, I stayed predominantly in the same town and same church during my formative years. There are definitely pros and cons…but that list is too long for the “comments” section.
Only moved once while growing up.
we moved one time. It was during the summer between 3rd and 4th grade. It was hard at the time, but I’m really glad it happened.
We never moved. I lived in the same house and went to the same church every sunday and wednesday till I left for college. And then I came back, not by choice but rather because the Lord’s plans are very different from my own. I moved back in with my parents (although I’m not there now) and am going to the church where I grew up. And to be quite honest, as much as i love my church,I now work here and it’s hard. It’s hard to work where I worship without feeling like the later is tainted by all that happens in a week.
Lived in Jamestown, NY until my freshmen year of college when my Dad got the head track and field coaching job at my school. My family then followed me (if you will) up to Rochester, NY. I’m a senior now and I love the move.
My mom still lives in the house my family moved into when I was 4. I was married in the same church I was born into, so no I did not move around much as a child. For years I desperitely wanted the clean start that a move provides, but after moving around as an adult I can say that there are pros and cons associated with both moving and staying put, and I’m not sure if either option is clearly better than the other.
The first and last halves of my life were almost polar opposites. My first 18 years were all lived on my grandparents’ farm, not in West Texas but in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula – both places very remote, but you had few trees and we had nothing but. And where your life started in church, mine started out of it.
Eventually I decided I was an atheist, until a school friend nagged me into going to his church – where I saw love, joy, and miracles. I found reality there – but that didn’t stop the church from eventually running my first pastor out.
When my second wife and I married, it seemed we couldn’t STOP moving. We lived in six cities in our first eight years – half in Florida, half in California. Later, for five of the six years we were
homeless after a government budget cut, we worked in a different city almost every week, covering eight Western states (but not Texas).
From when I was 3-12 I lived in the same house, in the same town of 5000 in rural Northern KY. From 12-16 I lived in a slightly bigger town in Rapid City, SD. At 17, having already finished my first year of college, I moved on my own to Minneapolis in search of big city life and excitement.
It lasted a year. Then I moved back to Rapid City, pregnant, married, and looking for a place to grow my family. It’s been a good move, mostly. And I’m happy where I am (even though we moved 6 times in the first four years of marriage). We love our home, our community, our schools, and the many opportunities to be a part of serving in this smallish town (100,000).
I lived in the same house from the time I was a few months old until I graduated from university. It was then that I crossed state lines and moved from the Midwest to the South and got to experience what it was like to live in a new place. Apparently it sparked something in me because I have gone on to move overseas for a year, to travel for extended periods to foreign countries and to move within the US as well. I’ve been in my current state for almost a year and I’m already daydreaming about the next ‘new’ place!
When I was growing up, we moved way more than an introvert like me would be comfortable with. Now my 12yo son has lived on the same street his whole life. So weird.
I honestly cannot count the # of x’s we moved (mostly within the same area) when I was a kiddo.I think it helped make me as flexible as I am today.
We moved twice…once when I was six months old, and then again when I was five years old. I only vaguely remember the second move.
I did not move until I was 14 years old after my parents got divorced. Then I moved between parents until I graduated, to and from college for 4 years, back and forth to Wisconsin, six months in Brazil and then various times once I got home until I got married and finally lived somewhere again.
I grew up in 4 different houses, but all in the same town. Then I went to college, then moved back to my hometown. But it’s a military town, so my friends moved all the time. My elementary school was on the military base, and from K-5th grade, it was just me and one other girl that made it all the way through. The rest moved in and out.
I only moved once, at 7, then when I got married I moved across town… Very exciting…
Eight homes in ten years, is that a lot? 12 homes in my lifetime, and I’m 26. No, my dad wasn’t in the army, he was just a poor money manager, and after we lost our house in SoCal it was one rental after another. I spent every year of high school in a different house, but it was OK because somehow my dad worked it out so that I could always be in the same high school, even when we were in another town.
After that I moved to SF and it was one dysfunctional roommate situation after another. I never felt like moving a lot was odd, because it was normal for me. I had enough constants in my life and had an adventurous enough spirit that moving from place to place appealed to me. It was very odd getting used to the mindset of my husband, who had lived most of his life in the same semi-small town. Last year we bought a house – a dream that continues to elude my mom – and I’m actually glad to put down roots.
Besides, filling out all those change of address cards is a pain.
Stayed in about the same place- though I did change schools once. Heck, I still live within 20 miles of all 4 places I’ve lived so far.
Such an excellent writer. Anne is gifted when it comes to writing in a way that is part conversation, part hard to put down novel.
I think I’ve lived in 20 different houses in 3 different states (MI, TX, CO) in my life. We moved when I was a kid cause my dad is a bit of a gypsy and didn’t like staying in one place very long. Since I’ve moved out of my parents, I’ve lived in 5 different apartments, so I guess I’m continuing the tradition.
I lived in the same tiny town, FULL of relatives, until I was 18 and left for college. It was after I was out of college and married that we moved 4 times in 18 months. I quit unpacking when we moved to a different house. It was tough, even as an adult.
i’ve lived in the same town since i was 5, but i found this essay interesting from my perspective as a social phobic. i was always an outsider, but i was completely thrown by my town’s lack of values and disinterest in helping the youth in church-related events. after a while, i just gave up trying.
I was an Air Force brat growing up so we moved every couple of years until junior high. I think it’s one of the reasons I still have a hard time with relationships today.
Ever since I was about two weeks old I have lived in the same city. I did move two times during second grade, but they were all in the same city. Not to say that was easy though. I still remember the first night after my family moved out of our apartment into a house crying that I wanted to go home. Also, even moving across a city I still lost friends at each move. A move that was harder than that though was when my family switched churches. A majority of my friends were from that church. I got to keep going there on Wednesday’s (mostly because I screamed–my parents really did not want me there). Then Wednesdays got taken away, the same year that all but five of my friends outside the old church graduated. So now I lost not only the familiar routine (and change is hard for me) but also almost all my friends all at once. Having your best friends taken away is definitely not an easy thing.
My dad was in the Air Force. Moving was a way of life! We lived in Europe for the most part. I’m grateful for it now, because I got to see the world, meet people I wouldn’t have otherwise met, and experience cultures so different from my own.
My dad is a high school teacher and coach, so I did my fair share of moving – not as much as it could’ve been though. I am SO thankful that we moved. I would not be the woman I am today if we hadn’t moved. I’m grateful to have a lot of friends, but in high school I was a little disappointed that I wasn’t graduating with people I had been in kindergarten with. God had a plan for our family and it proved to be a great one for us!
I grew up in the same town for 18 years, but since then, in the last 7 years I’ve moved 16 times. Sometimes I’m running away from something and other times I’m running towards it. I’m tired and I’m ready to find it, and I know God is doing something and preparing me for it.
I stayed put until I went off to College. When I was a kid I always thought it was cool to pack and and move some place new. I had a few close friends who did. I also thought it was cool to be the new kid in school. It’s all about perspective I guess.
Once I moved out of the homestead, I moved many times after that. Moving is something that gets harder every time you do it. It does not get easier with practice.
I attended first grade on three continents. (!) Started out in Beirut, Lebanon, was evacuated (civil war started) to Athens for a couple months, then the fam moved back to the states, where I finished out the year. Things settled down a bit after that, but yes, I moved multiple times as a kid.
I moved a lot in the same area – so that even though I changed schools, I never changed churches. I wish I did though.
I’ve lived in 2 countries, 7 states, 14 cities, and 22 homes (not counting repeats nor temporary housing). I have been in Rhode Island for 6 years and my current home for 5 – the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere in my life.
I thought I coped with it well – I thought I was amazingly flexible and up for living anywhere, any time.
I went back to my “home town” of sorts last summer, and it all caught up with me, and I fell apart. I’m still picking up the pieces.
The homesickness is still gut wrenching at times.
My family moved a few times but all in the same area, and we went to the same church since I was a baby. My parents still go there to this day, although I don’t. I didn’t like moving though because it kept taking me further & further from my friends. Now I don’t really care ’cause I can drive, so no big deal =)
I moved around to several schools when I was young. My mother died when I was 8 and I lived with my aunt for 5 years. It was in the same small town but I went to 4 different elementary schools. I did remain at the same church.
We pretty much stayed in the same place – moved around the city a few times – but same house and school district from 2nd to 12th grade and beyond.
We moved a lot. I lived in one town in OK through 1st grade. Another 2nd-5th. Another 6th-7th. Back to the first for 8th-12th. Then I went to college in Dallas for 2 years, moved to Tyler, TX for 1 year. Then moved back to the 1st town with my fiance (now hubby) and we’ve been here 2 yrs, 3 months. But we’re planning on moving again at the end of the month–probably back to TX.
So yeah, I moved a lot.
I’ve lived in the same town my whole life–except for two years when I went away to college. And I still came home all the time, so I don’t think that really counts.
Now though, I work with teens in the foster care system who all they know is moving… It’s tough even experiencing their pain secondhand.