Hurt/Hate

I've said in other posts that I have been busy on a different project which has pulled me away from doing a lot of blogging. Well that's still true, but in the course of doing my other project I came to realize something interesting that I thought might be a good blog. *Disclaimer, because I am writing about real people I will not be using their names. These things happened many years ago, we are all different people now.*


Growing up, I was completely involved in church and church activities. Being a pastor's kid kind of meant I had to but also all my friends were. Acquire the Fire, Christian concerts, etc, were what I looked forward to. My best friends' dad was our youth pastor, every person on the praise and worship team was either a friend or a friend's parent. Most of our church youth group had known each other for over a decade. To top it off at least four of my buddies lived less than a half block away. There was the regular drama from time to time between each other and sometimes even our parents but for the most part life was good.


That all changed the summer going into my junior year. First the youth group leader got mad about something and left the church. My best friend and I could now only talk on the phone (no cellphones yet). It was hard but it also wasn't the first time this guy had done this so I was pretty convinced they would be back soon enough.


Then one Sunday no one from the praise and worship team was at church, well except me and I was the sound chick. Not the pianist, drummer, guitar players or any of the singers, none. It seemed shocking to me, but my parents must have known because they just took everything in stride. Apparently there had been some issues brewing that I was unaware of and honestly it's been so long that I really don't care what they were. Throughout the school year ( I went to a school at the church) there had been some tension between the administrators, one of whom was my father, but again I really didn't need to know, then or now. But suddenly (or so it seemed to me) I woke up, went to church, and had not a single childhood friend was there. The youth group was gone, I mean empty, the closest kids to my age were at least 3 years younger, most of them even more.


Throughout the next week, almost all of my friends talked with me about what they knew, which was mostly, "Mom and Dad said we are going to try another church." Most of the parents were cool with me hanging out with their kids like normal even, except one particular family. It just so happened to be the person from the school that I had had quite a bit of run ins with. This family wouldn't let their kids hang out even if we were at a mutual friends house; if I showed up, their kids had to leave. For years I hated these parents! Just hearing their names would bring back these awful memories. It wasn't until I was in Iraq and I learned what true hatred was, that I realized I didn't hate them at all. I was just terribly hurt. I couldn't understand why they dislike me so much or what I had done that made them not allow me to speak with their kids anymore. Now I realize, who cares? It was so long ago I bet no one remembers why or who did what. And really it doesn't matter anyhow. But finally understanding that I didn't hate them, allowed me to forgive them and let go of the past. I had been holding onto it for so long that I didn't even realize the weight anymore.


While this was such a hard and depressed time for me, I found I wasn't alone. I had some new friends who quickly became close- Amy Young, the whole Overstreet family, you guys will never know how much you saved me. And my old friends, some of them have faded with time but we are still friendly, and others are still incredibly close, even more so than before; I won't use names because I said so early on, but I'm pretty sure my little "sister" knows who I mean!


It's weird what things a person remembers when they grow up, for some reason that summer never fades fully away. Maybe it was because that was when I first learned that things would never be always the same or because I started to painfully grow and do different things. The next year I went to public school for the first time, I started making friends outside of my church, and I stretched my wings a little in the theatre department.


Sometimes I can still feel the old hurt and bitterness try to creep back in; mostly when I'm having a down phase. I just remind myself that it's old, the scars have already faded and it won't hurt anymore unless I start to scratch at them. Instead of being upset over the one terrible summer we had, I remember all the great memories from the years and years of friendship we had before and the new memories we've made since.