To one family this may have been a tragedy, to another it was a one-way ticket to freedom.
Earning my degree was my one hope to increase my income and ensure I could provide a roof over our heads, and give us the things we would need to live a stable life.
Lord knows we needed stability.
To get out I had to petition the judge.
Everyone knows you can’t just pick up and leave the county when you share custody. At least not legally.
The judge stamped the paperwork.
We were on our way out.
I would finish my last year of college a county away only to petition the same judge a year later to move out of state, be closer to family, and start my career and master’s degree. By the grace of God, the judge would approve that request as well. That fall, I would be turning twenty-nine and she would be six.
As much as I would like to take all the credit for doing the day-to-day work that gets one out of a situation like mine, I can’t.
There were too many hands involved, too many key players that held me through.
Eighteen years later I would return to this smallish town.
As close to a hometown as I’ve ever had.
Remarried and three more girls added to our family, I had a sense of freedom I had never experienced since I was a little girl unaware of, and unmarked by, life’s pressures.
A place where I left broken and busted, I returned rebuilt.
Positioned to offer what I was able to overcome.
And isn’t that the point?
As much as I fought this return, it’s been more than a reminder of what God brings us out of. I used to think it was about me but the more I walk with Him, I learn I was so very wrong.
I am not just one. I am one of many.
Like you, I am an example.