Telling Our Story - Part 3

My childhood was pretty standard, at least until I started school.  Up until that point, Robert and Amanda were pretty much my only friends. We did everything together.  We didn't really have much of a choice.  We were products of the farm life.

In March of 1985, I had another brother, well at least for a little while. Sadly Michael Lee Giles died shortly after birth due to undeveloped lungs. I was barely 5 at this point, and had a slight ignorance as to the severity of the situation.  I remember it like this, "I got to ride in a Limo"  I had no clue at the time how bad my parents must have felt.  I feel like that is Gods way of helping people deal with hard situations.  Having my own kids now, I still can't even imagine. The pain must have been horrible.  I have been told by many people that my mom was never the same after that.

When I started school, I made a lot of friends. As I made these friendships I started to realize that what I thought was a normal life, wasn't actually that normal.  It was the little things like friends having friends over for sleep overs, or at least to play after school.  Little things that my kids now see as totally normal.  Also when I was at friends houses, I would notice that the way that their houses looked was different.  You see mom and dad would let me go to others houses, however we were never allowed to have anyone over to our house.  I was told a multitude of reasons why, however truth be known, it was because they were embarrassed because of the state of the house. Now before I explain, I want to let it be known that I love my parents, and nothing stated here is intended to hurt anyone.  However this is a major flaw in my childhood.  My mother is a Hoarder.  She has a hard time throwing anything away.  I for so long thought that this was normal, because what else did I have to compare it too.  I will not go into details to the extent of how bad it was, lets just say that it was really bad.

I can look back and see that this one problem, was what started the divide between me and my parents.  

I really think that bitterness crept into my heart. I have always been one to want to fit in. I have gone to extremes to get people to like me. It's something that I have been able to somewhat overcome, now knowing where I belong in Christ. However back then I just knew that it made me mad that my parents would not allow me to be normal. This drove a wedge between me and my parents.

In hindsight, I realize my fault in this. You see I was a very self-centered individual, and was for the better part of my life. I think that we are all born that way. It's in our nature to look out for number one. My mistake was not giving grace. Indeed my mother had a problem. That's not disputable. It was a problem that not only affected her, but the entire family. And seeing things through my young eyes all I could see was hatred for that issue, and in turn a hatred for her. Now don't get me wrong, I'm no psychopath, and it was all internal, but emotions are what they are. I couldn't help how I felt. I could however help how I reacted to them. Something that I have learned over the years is exactly that. We are who we are, and that is ok. God has made us all unique. We will be tested on a daily basis. There will be many trials, and its not these trials that define who we will become, however our reactions to them that will. We are, in our nature, geared to judge others. We base our judgement on the way that the world sees normal. The uncomfortable way, God way, to see things is through grace.

I can't think of a better example of how to do this than when Jesus was in the temple towards the end of his ministry on earth. The religious leaders were out to get him on something, and like any other time, an opportunity arose where they thought they were going to cause him to slip on the doctrine. They came across a woman that was caught in adultery, which was punishable by death then, and they asked Jesus what they should do, since the law stated death, they wanted to see if Jesus would contradict the law. His response was amazing. He said, "let he who was without sin, cast the first stone". What an amazing answer. First of all he totally dodged the snare they were trying to get him into, but he also gave them something to think about. Before you place judgement, you should first look at yourself. If you are faultless, which none of us are, then judging is ok. But we all have flaws, or I should say unique quirks, that make us flawed, not ruined, but flawed. Remember this, because I'm gonna show you how God uses this very lesson to teach me something later in my story.

I am kind of new to this whole tell your story thing. While I have been writing this there have been so many memories that are coming to the surface. Some are just that, memories, others are keys to understanding what I am all about. Obviously I am going to stick with those, because they are the ones that have an impact on the man I have become.

Telling Our Story - Part 2

I guess if you are reading this, part one didn't bore you to sleep. Well like I said, I didn't realize how much me getting lost in the woods that day would be setting the stage for my life.  I was a "free spirit", or at least that is how I was categorized. My dad said that it was being unrealistic. He said that I wouldn't amount to anything.  My mom didn't have much to say about it.  Either way, I kind of went to the beat of my own drum.

Shortly after that it was time for me to not be an only child.  My brother and sister, Robert and Amanda, were born.  I remember being at the hospital and looking through the glass seeing them laying in those little carts that they put newborns in.

To be honest, I don't remember much else after that until I was around 4 maybe 5 years old.  I remember when all the "big trucks" came to the farm.  Like I said earlier we raised chickens and cattle. Also, like I said, the giant farms were killing the little farms, and this was not exception.  My grandpa was put into a position to where raising chickens was becoming not profitable. So he was forced to get rid of them.  Large companies like Tyson, was coming in and pushing the little people around.  Either way, the "big trucks" as I called them were on the farm.  There seemed like hundreds of them, even though I realize there wasn't.  At that age, everything is exaggerated   

These trucks were here to load all of the chickens up and take them away. I didn't understand why, and I was confused at the moment.  That was until one of the drivers let me ride in one of the trucks from the house to one of the chicken houses.  I still remember this day like it was yesterday.  I was big stuff.  I got to ride in a "big truck".

This changed things around the farm quite a bit.  Raising chickens was a major part of our life.  Now that was gone.  I was unclear of how Grandpa felt about that, but I suspect that it bothered him.

I want to stop for a minute and talk about my Grandpa.  He was an amazing person.  I actually attest much of my personality to things that I picked up from him.  He was a loyal, caring, hard nosed, fair person.  He was never too busy to help people. He taught me, that a mans word was just as good as a signed contract, and your word was all that you had.  He was a hard worker.  That man could out work me and he was three times my age.  To put it bluntly, he was a dying breed, and that saddens me.  The world that we live in today is a world that is all about "what can you do for me?" He looked at things a little differently.  I wish that I become half the man he was.  Needless to say I respected that man dearly.

Where was I, oh yeah, the chickens sold. Well now that we were no longer in the chicken business, grandpa focused on other avenues.  He started to grow the cattle business. What kid didn't want to be a cowboy.  I spent many, many, many hours working on that farm.  Funny thing is I am sure that I worked harder on that farm in one day than I do today in a week.  Whats crazy about that is, I feel much more stressed now than I ever did then.

Life on the farm was quite a bit different than what many people know.  For instance, how many of you would say that it is normal to get up at 5am to feed cattle and complete other chores, before you go to school, or work?  Not many.  I personally now rarely ever see 5am.  I have become soft as I got older.

It was a simple life, and I loved it.  I now had a brother and sister.  They were pretty cute, and I mind the attention that they got.  I mean twins will always get attention, no matter where you go.  I might have had a problem, but I don't recall if I did.

I was not getting to the age to enjoy other things in life.  The most important of which was fishing. I had the perfect buddy for that, my uncle Bill. He was my grandma's brother and he LOVED to fish.  I remember that he used to come over to the farm and take me, and later on, Robert and Amanda, fishing.  Funny fact about Uncle Bill is his actual name was Walter Lee, but he went by Bill.  I still to this day don't understand how that happened.  I really enjoyed the times when we went fishing,  I would guess around the age of 7 or 8 and I remember catching a cat fish that was as long as I was tall.  I know what you are thinking, yeah right, but my mom actually has the pic to prove it.

Telling Our Story

Well I created this blog a while back because I felt led to do so by God. I have never considered myself a writer, creative maybe, but not a writer. This is an attribute that my wife is much better at than I. I feel like this is the reason that I have yet to actually post anything to this blog until now. My intentions were to share our life experiences to the world, with the hunch from the Holy Spirit, that it would help someone that reads it.

I feel like I am so far behind that there is no way that I can catch up. But, I will try. It will have to be like eating an elephant, I will take it one bite at a time.

Our story, or my story for now, will have to start with a little background. I am 32 years old, and a born again Christian. That being said, I will share the long road it took to get to this place I am at now.

If you did your math right, you would have guessed that I was born around 1980. I was the first born child to John (Eddie) and Susan Giles. We lived in a very small community called Pearson, AR. We lived next door to Charlie and Marie Todd, who were my grandparents on my mothers side. They had a fairly large farm, and raised chickens and Polled Hereford cattle. It was a very simple kind of life there. It was also a very poor life. Farmers didn't make it as well as they did in the past. Everything was going to the giant farmers, and the little guys were getting left behind. I loved it though. It was a free life. I enjoyed the ability to roam as I wanted.

My earliest memory was just that, me roaming. I was not quite 3 years old at the time, and apparently I liked my freedom even then. One day I set out on an adventure in the wooded areas of grandpas farm. Me and my dog Poochie. You might be wondering how I knew that I wasn't quite 3 yet? Well I am almost exactly 3 years older than my brother and sister, and I know that mom was pregnant with them when this all happened. Anyway, back to my adventure. I remember that I just liked to walk and check things out, however on this day I went a little too far from the house. It was about 2-3 miles away. I was really enjoying the stroll, with Poochie by my side. That dog hardly left my side back then. Well I remember getting lost, and coming up on an open field of the neighbors. Mr Sartain was out there on his tractor feeding hay to his cattle. I stood and watched him for a while and then he noticed me. He stopped his tractor and came over to talk to me. I remember he asked me if I was lost, and I answered yes. He then told me to turn around and go back exactly the way I came. So I did. The only problem is I didn't know which way that was. The woods all looked the same. On a side note, my mother says that Mrs Sartain really got in to him for not taking me home. After all a three year old shouldn't be that far from home alone right. Anyhow, I was wandering around in the woods. I had no concept of time, I was just looking for my way. Mom says that I was out there for quite a few hours, before I eventually made my way out. I remember my dad honking his horn on his 1967 Ford Ranger truck. It had a unique sound. It's almost like I can still hear it today. I heard it that day and began to follow that sound until I made it back to the truck. Oh the spanking I got that day was horrible, however the hug I received was tremendous.

Looking back now I realize why I remember that event, even when most people can't remember much before the age of 5. The outcome of that day set stage for things that were to come next. It almost is the perfect metaphor for my life story. I see now that I was wandering a lot in my spiritual life. I would not let anything stop me from searching for that fulfillment in life, whatever it was. You know that desire to fill a hole in you that you aren't quite sure what goes there, but you know that you need to fill it.

I searched for 27 years before I found it, and I would like to share my journey with you. I will tell you this, it's not a pretty story, but it is my story, and I want to tell it. Keep posted, and I will continue writing as often as I can. Hopefully I will get caught up to the current day soon.