Oh......my God!

If you just met me and don’t really know me, you might think I have known and loved God my entire life. Maybe not…I could be more transparent than I think. Regardless, the fact remains, that I only recently began to truly believe in the Father, Son and the Holy Spirit. What I have come to realize is that my faith journey (sorry for the Christianese) is just that…mine. I wouldn’t be the person that I am today without experiencing the indifference, doubt, rebellion and revelation in my life so far.

When I was a kid, going to church meant sitting and listening to some boring stuff and getting to go out to breakfast afterwards. My parents belonged to a Lutheran church but after my mom passed away, my dad never really took me there. Instead, we would church hop, checking out different churches and denominations on a sporadic basis. The pay off for going was Dad would take me out for breakfast after the service. So I would sit there and stare at the clock, dutifully standing and sitting and kneeling at the appropriate time. I would try to follow along to the music and sing some of the words, but I never really thought about what was being said or sung. Occasionally though, bits and pieces would slip past the filter and I would catch something useful. The only other religious exposure I had at a young age was that on Good Friday, my dad would require that I sit still and be quiet from Noon to 3 p.m. I knew the reason he expected this, but it wasn’t like we ever talked much about God, Jesus or religion at any other time throughout the year. I should add that one of my most embarrassing experiences involving religion happened in the 6^th grade. Our teacher gave us an assignment that involved saying the name of the church to which our family belonged. Well, Atonement Lutheran was the church, but they sent out a news letter that was called “Atonement Chimes.” So I answered “Atonement Chimes” …..Thus exposing my ignorance and obvious lack of religious upbringing. Mr. Kowalske probably handled it better than I remember, but it had a real negative impact on me.

As I got into those teenage years, the payoff of breakfast just didn’t do it for me any longer. Sure it was a great way to spend one on one time with my dad, but I was a teenager……the last thing I wanted was to spend time with him. He was the reason everything was wrong in my life. Fortunately, my sister, Shari had married into the Roger’s family. Shari and her husband, Joe went to school at UW-La Crosse and his parents would bring me along on weekend visits. Alice and Jim are faithful Catholics and part of the weekend always included attending a church service. I really loved going to church in La Crosse. They had a banner hanging from the ceiling that said “This is God’s Country.” At the time I didn’t realize it but it was my first religious experience that was tongue in cheek. That impact however, was washed over by going out to dinner on a Friday night with the Rogers during Lent. I didn’t like all the rules about what you could eat, do and say. Joe’s sister, Jenny and I are the same age, and I remember Jenny whining about not being able to find anything appropriate to order on the menu. I felt so bad for her, and I was happy I didn’t have to follow those rules.

As a young adult, I just didn’t see any benefit to having a relationship with a higher power. I mean, I had been raised to live a moral life, not that I always did, but I wasn’t a serial killer or anything. So foolishly, I believed that my good was good enough. As long as I loved my family, was a good friend, and didn’t get caught breaking any really big laws, my life was mine to live the way I saw fit. It was at this time, that I began to deny the existence of the Holy Trinity. I remember a conversation I had with Bobbie Jo Buhr about organized religion and its hypocrisy and greediness. To me, it was better to think of the higher power as an alien that was just conducting a science experiment here on Earth. Sort of 2001 meet Dogma.

This must have been really difficult on my family. My husband, Mike, a confirmed Catholic, loved me in spite of my feelings toward God. I think he wanted to be with me more than he wanted to force his beliefs on me or perhaps he saw through my facade. What patience he showed with me. My dad married Judy, a faithful Catholic and with her shining example he returned to the Lutheran faith. I am so impressed by their ability to have a multidenominational relationship. They are so supportive of each other’s beliefs. Shari and Jerry both married Catholics and Kim married a Mormon. Each of my siblings converted to their spouse’s belief system, but I just couldn’t see myself becoming a Catholic. I was just too hung up on the hypocrisy and rules. So Mike and I never really did anything with organized church. We never took Frank and Mike to service, hardly ever read bible stories and never got them formally baptized. Periodically, Mike and I would discuss what to do about Frank and Mike’s lack of exposure to organized religion. I would always push back and for some reason Mike allowed it even though he didn’t agree with me.

Then our marriage hit the rocks! I mean Titanic like disaster. After 14 years, we lost all trust in each other and began growing apart. Somehow we found a life boat in Sue Panger. She wasn’t our first attempt at marital therapy, but she was the counselor that was effective. Her method was so non-judgmental and faithful.

She just absolutely refused to pick sides. Sue taught us to actively listen to each other, find common ground and communicate what we really meant. She also openly gave credit to God for everything. She began to open my eyes to what having a closer relationship with God could do for me.

The next step in God’s plan for me was Phyllis Holcomb and Shiela Williamson. Phyllis and I got extremely close because I was constantly running away from Mike and the problems at home. Phyllis provided me with a buoy to hang onto while I waited for the life boat to come. Her experiences and willingness to share them helped me see the benefit of doing the marriage work Mike and I had ahead of us. She continually told me what a horrible experience divorce would be and to make sure I exhausted every option before choosing it.  Shiela was more of a lighthouse. Ironically, Shiela is married to a non-believer. The greatest thing Shiela has taught me is to love your husband 100% even though he isn’t exactly who you want him to be. Shiela is a true believer and as far as I know, always has been. What a great example these two women provided for me.

Occasionally, when Phyllis and I would talk, she would mention wanting to go to church. She had attended a couple services with her sister and daughter but their schedule didn’t fit with hers. Amazingly, I offered to go with her. At first, it was just to do something for my friend/mentor. During the first service I attended at Great Lakes Church, I kept looking at everything through a cynic’s eyes, constantly on the look out for the hidden motive. Fortunately, GLC isn’t a stereotypical church. I loved the music, the way the message was delivered and the gracefulness of it. Suddenly, I wanted to attend weekly.

Poor Mike, I had completely spun a 180. We sat and talked for a couple days about my reasons to want to attend weekly and my insistance to bring Frank and Mike with me. In learning more about Jesus and the truth of his life, I started to accept Christianity as more than just a fairy tale. I opened my heart and now I consider myself a follower of Jesus Christ. Mike still hangs onto his Catholic upbringing but he is completely supportive of the boy’s and me attending GLC. To date, Mikey and I have been baptized and all three of us serve on at least one ministry team. Mike attends GLC with us periodically, and I am happy to say, God is a constant part of all of our lives. What a wonderful journey it has been so far……what more is there to come?

www.greatlakeschurch.com

State Cross Country 1986

My son, Michael, will be running in the State Cross Country meet this Saturday. It causes me to remember my senior year of Cross Country and the four S’s, the boy’s cross country team, Peter Henkes and of course, Dan Trepanier.

It was in 1986, my senior year at Horlick High, that I had some of the best fun in high school. Our boy’s team and one of the S’s, Shellie Bolman, had qualified for State the previous year and most of the girls had driven to Madison to watch them compete. It gave us the motivation to work hard enough to qualify in 1986. We had a great core group of runners…..the 4 S’s, 2 Tammy’s and Nicole were our top seven. We had a huge rivalry with cross town school, Case. It is funny, because Case still has the same Coach as they did then; Coach Frasier has not changed a bit, just a little greyer on the edges.

The four S’s consisted of my cousin, Sandy Heck, Shellie Bolman, myself-Sue Isen, and Karen Ingles aka Spaz. The other three varsity runners were Tami Langdon, Tammy Dale and Nicole Janaky. Our head coach was Dan Trepanier, but our work outs were designed by Wisconsin Runner Co-founder and boy’s head coach, Peter Henkes. Dan recently retired and I used to see him occasionally at races. I still see Peter regularly, because he times most of the races that are run in my area.

That group of varsity girls was tight. We trained together, studied together, ate lunch together, went to football games and partied together. Occasionally, we paired off and my counterpart was Karen. We referred to Karen as Spaz. The funny thing about Karen is she was an awesome hurdler in track. We competed at a distance of 3200 meters or about 2 miles in cross country and it was quite a transition for her to switch to sprints in track. Michael has a teammate like that now, Mason Waynes. Mason is a natural runner, love that kid! When we ran, we would sing popular songs usually from the Violent Femmes. When I hear "Add It Up" and "Kiss Off," it instantly takes me back to those long runs. We had a stuffed Rebel mascot that we named, Walter Stenovich. Walter had retired as principal the year before and it was our tribute to him. Walter would give the stink eye to the other teams and always accompanied us to the awards ceremony at meets.

Karen and I used to spend lots of afternoons and evenings in her room looking at teen mags, watching TV and just talking. I lost touch with her after high school, one of my regrets. She was a great friend, lots of fun to hang out with, and even more fun to go tp’ing with.

Dan was like a second dad to me. One of my favorite memories of Dan is that I would meet him before school and we would sell candy together. I don’t think anyone else got to do that with him. It gave us a chance to talk one on one and he made a huge difference in my life. He had an understanding of teenage girls and their psyche that made him a great coach. I really disappointed Dan on one occasion though. The winter of my junior year, our basketball team qualified for the state tournament. There were booster buses that took us to Madison for the games. I got really drunk with a friend before we boarded the bus, and passed out for the entire ride to Madison. Dan was the chaperone on my bus. He never said a word to me about it until Monday morning at the candy sale and all he had to say was “Don’t ever let that happen again!” I can’t say I never drank again in high school, but I was a lot more careful about the amount after that.

Our trip to state was so fun! The boy’s team had qualified too. The coaches had the difficult decision of assigning rooms. In the end, they let the four S’s have their own room. John Pomeroy, Ronn Blaha, and Scott Druschke joined us in our room until curfew. I remember laughing so hard it hurt and staying up way too late for the race the next day. The adrenaline rush was the best and I remember feeling like I sprinted the entire 2 miles. We did really well in the race and we will always argue that we got screwed by the officials and we really did beat Case at state!

Front Row: Sue Isen, Sandy Heck, Shellie Bolman, Karen Ingles (Spaz), Back row: Maren Kozlik, Jennifer Berby, Nicole Janaky, Tammy Dale, Tami Langdon, Heidi Wolff and Coach Dan Trepanier 

Halloween 1979

Halloween is always a time of reflection for me. You see, when I was 10, I was hit by a car while I was trick-or-treating. I was out with my friends, Donna Gleason and Joie Paranteau. It was raining and dark and cold because back then (1979) trick-or-treat was on Halloween Night. We were getting tired, cold and wanted to get as much loot as we could so we decided to go to an apartment complex  in our neighborhood. We were crossing near the corner of Douglas Ave and Carlton Blvd  in my hometown of Racine, WI. We had to wait for traffic, and when we thought it was clear, we didn’t see a woman pulling out of the convenient store and onto Douglas Ave. Donna or Joie yelled to stop,  but I didn’t hear or react and I ended up getting hit by the van. I was thrown 20-30 feet and came to rest on the side of the road.

Meanwhile, my 16 year old sister, Shari was home talking on the phone. I am sure she and my dad were handing out candy to the other trick-or-treaters. I  know that the operator had to break into Shari’s phone call to tell them about my accident. Can you imagine how it felt for Shari to hear that news? Dad and Shari arrived at the accident scene before the ambulance left. Shari rode with me while Dad followed behind. I remember the pain and crying to Shari to help me.

At the hospital, my family was told of my injuries. I had a concussion and a really badly broken right femur. Pretty much, that was it! The concussion was serious, but the femur was the real story. In order to repair the broken bone, a pin had to be inserted through the two broken parts of the bone and then attached to traction weights while the healing occurred. I would be bed ridden in the hospital for 6 weeks. I remember on my second day in the hospital, a nurse offering to bring a game to play with me and before she could return to play with me, I fell asleep. The nurses were terrific! They would have to wheel my entire bed into the play room in order for me to be able to spend time with the other kids in the hospital. The rest of the time in the hospital is sort of a blur. I remember receiving tons of gifts and visitors. My favorite gift was a stuffed Beagle puppy that I named Mustard. Don’t ask me why, but that’s what I named him. To this day, Beagles are my favorite breed and someday I hope to own a real one. I probably won’t name it Mustard.

After 6 weeks of traction, I got put into a body cast. The cast went around my torso starting in the middle of my chest and then down my right leg all the way to the ball of my foot. Let’s just say this wasn’t a walking cast in any way! We lived in a two story house and all the bedrooms were on the second floor, so my room was set up in the living room on the hide-a-bed. I had to remain in the cast for 8 weeks. I remember how my brother, Jerry would pick me up and carry me to different places in the house. For Christmas he put me in the back seat of our station wagon, so we could go to my Aunt LaVerne’s house on Christmas Eve. He was 20 or so at the time and he was my hero. I felt special to be so well taken care of by my big brother.

That time at home must have been really difficult on my family. My dad was a single parent by then, and he worked during the day. My oldest sister, Kim had moved out of the house and worked a waitress job 2nd shift. I suspect that between Kim, Jerry, Shari and our neighbor, Bette Bowmen, I was looked out for during the day. I had an in home tutor that would come to give me my school work and I had some really great friends from school that came to visit me. They brought me a wreath made of construction paper hands from all the kids in the fifth grade. I hope that Victoria Mahl and Martha Swan know how awesome they made me feel when they painted my toe nails for me. I also had a neighbor, Chad Bongiovanni that would come visit me. Chad and our relationship is a separate blog entry for the future, but he made a huge difference in my happiness during my recovery.

Most of all, I have to thank my dad, sisters and brother for the sacrifices they made and for the time they spent caring for me. It is because of that time and the love they gave me, that I have always known love, each day of my life. My family has known a lot of hardships and through them all our love for each other has endured. Now we are spread out from one end of America to the other. Even though we are not close in proximity, we are close in our hearts.