Part 7

I had met girl that was going to college at Treasure Valley that summer I was 18.

We had gone to a few jackpot barrel racings together and she told me about the rodeo team there.

I started thinking that I might try going.

I got my GED, filled out my paper work for the college

and filled out my paperwork for financial aid.

I got accepted for financial aid, but my mom would not sign the papers for it.

It went against her “convictions” of taking money from the government,

something that she believed was a sin to do.

Therefore, I didn't go. I continued working.

At 17 I was fully running our restaurant. From September to June, I was running a full time daycare.

I was barrel racing and roping.

I had taken my first trip to Europe while I was 17, with four other kids from our area.

We had traveled Europe and fit a trip to Israel in as well.

My life was full and active although I always fell short when it came to my mother.

She considered me “rebellious” and “disobedient”.

God was used to try to control us and manipulate us.

One of the local guys made the comment that I would end up

“married to a local guy and live in Silver Lake forever.”

Silver Lake is a small town. It's like a vortex that sucks people in. Everybody knows everybody, and for the most part, knows everything going on in everybody's life. Once you are there, you don't get out. I saw many people move into the area, and the majority of them never left.

My mother made the same remark to me, although a little different, along the lines that I would end up married to a drunk with 5 kids that I would end up having to support.

That was the wrong thing to say to me. I was not going to end up in the Silver Lake “void”.

I had already been thinking of the idea of going an a missions trip with Teen Missions.

It would be during the summer which was our busiest time with the restaurant which would be a challenge for my mom as she was very dependent on me to help run the restaurant.

My Grandpa had also giving me a colt that spring.

He had gotten a bad wire cut on his leg so he was brought up for me to doctor.

My Grandpa had hopes that the colt would make a good barrel horse.

Being a faithful customer at our restaurant,

I think he saw most of what I went through.

I decided to go though with it and sent off the paper work.

This was the Summer that I was 19.

I wrote letters for support for the mission trip.

I had the majority of the money myself to pay for it.

I boarded the Teen Missions bus in Portland with about 50 other kids and

we drove across the US to Florida.

There I met up with the my team where we would also go through two weeks of boot camp.

Then we headed out to Germany.

I picked Europe because I had been there before.

Germany because I had read a lot about Germany,

and debriefing was going to take place in Switzerland.

I had only ridden a train through Switzerland before.

We hadn't actually stopped to look around.

I wasn't a shy person, but I was a quiet person.

I really wasn't interested in nor did I want to be part of the dramas

or any of the outreach stuff.

I preferred to stay in the back.

While on the field, we did devotions nightly together and…

each team member was to give their testimony during this time.

I made sure mine was toward the end.

I was one of the last people to share my testimony.

I really had no clue what to share really,

but when it came to my turn, I started just telling my story.

I really can't remember what I said, but

I do remember how shocked everyone was.

I guess, supposedly people who come from the traumatic home life that I did

had more issues.

I was shocked how freeing it was.

When one shares their story, it is freeing.

It can no longer rule you or control you.

You are free from it.

There was one thing that one of the team leaders said to me
as I was talking to her about my mother.

It really bothered me that my mom and I did not get along.

I just did not get why.

She said “It sounds like your mother is jealous of you.”

I disregarded it, but it stuck in my head.
It was a statment that I would go over and over again in my mind.

Back at home once again, I started working with the colt that my grandpa gave me.

I continued working but my jobs were changing.

I was going to try my hand at barrel racing again.

I bought a truck.

And life continued.

Our family continued to spiral out of control,

defragmenting little by little.

I noticed a lot of people who had been there to help and

support us before weren't there anymore.

Bridges had been burnt.

They didn't get why my mother continued to stay in the situation,

nor did I.

Some probably felt pretty used as there was no change, no follow through.

I was also seeing that my dad just didn't care anymore either.