6

Top 10 reasons to STOP worrying and LOVE it when your child gets DIRTY.


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In no particular order…

  1. He/she is having fun!
  2. He/she is learning to use his/her imagination.
  3. Clothes can be washed!
  4. He/she gets to take a bubble bath when finished playing!
  5. It gives you a good excuse (that even a small child can understand) to cut trim fingernails.
  6. It improves motor skills
  7. You’ll be the coolest mom/dad on the block.
  8. It gives you an excuse not to dress your little ones in designer cloths.
  9. It brings him/her closer to nature!
  10. He/she won’t grow up to associate ‘dirt’ with ‘poor’

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4

To you Father! Love Yourself!


IMG_4666To the daddy you used to be!

You are the daddy that used to be…

You pushed me on the swing

As I screamed weeeeee…

This is a poem on fathers day…

I’m gonna tell you this story

In my own way…

I love you, I love you…

I always have

There is nothing that can change that

I do hope you know…

Yes, you may have made me cry…

And ever so often I wonder why,

Why you pushed me out of your life…

Why you lie to your very own wife…

Don’t you know that I still love you?

Don’t you know that I still care?

There is no getting near you these days…

You’ve pushed me out in so many ways…

So I have decided to just let you be

There is no need in chasing

I’ve let myself free

Free from your grip, from your love and despair

Free from your third wife who doesn’t even care

Free from waiting for you to be a certain way

Free from making you want to stay

Free from wanting you to love me this way

It’s enough, I’m done, I’ve set myself free

God loves me for me

Some things never change,

I can count on him

I know that I can

There is no other man

Who can compare to Him

To the father you used to be…

I want to say thanks…

Thanks for the love, for the play, for the fun

We liked to ride bikes, to fly kites, and to sing

You let me dress up and flash some bling bling

You taught me to save for the things that I want

Not to be frivolous and buy everything at once

You took us on vacation, my sister and I

to Florida, New Hamshir, and even Hawaii

It would have never crossed your mind

Because you used to be so kind

to push us out the door

back when we played ‘’bucking bronco’’ on the floor

Daddy…

Do you remember him?

The man that used to love me…

The one that used to care…

The one who would stay up all night

The one who brushed my hair

Do you remember goldie locks

and stinky socks?

When did you change?

Why do you think that you are more godly now

Did God disown his children

when they didn’t do things his way?

Do you hear God anymore?

Do you hear him calling?

Saying your name?

Saying ‘’hi there my child, where are your children?

Did they both run away? Is that what you think?

Come to me and I will show you the truth’’

Will you go?

Can you see?

That we both love you so…

Will you go?

Can you bare it?

To see your own truth?

The children you pushed away in your youth?

You wanted it better

that is what you’ve always said

You didn’t want to be like your father

Who is now already dead

You wanted to be good and kind

And let us share what’s on our mind?

When did you stop having time?

When did you start hiding behind?

I do still love you…

I only hope you know

But I can’t be around someone

who wants to be my foe…

Is that what you want?

Because that is the way it seems…

You pretend I’m not on the phone whenever it rings

Well sometimes you do

That is, if let’s say,

your wife isn’t near

to take it away

She doesn’t grab at the phone

But she grabs at you soul, at your mind

Like a child who needs your attention

At every inconvenient time

You don’t say ‘’no I’m talking on the phone to someone important’’

you pretend I’m your boss giving tips on importment

You shove religion down my throat

When I don’t even care

You think you know better

But how can you

It isn’t fair

The truth is…

you don’t have all the answers…

Can’t seem to find them anywhere

And that is ok…

I just hope…

That some day

Some day

You will find what you are looking for

It will come knocking at your door

You will be ready to embrace it

To hold it in your arms

You will love it

Yes you will

Because by then…

You will have learned

to love yourself

Love yourself, father!

Love yourself for who you are

Love how God made you

Who he made you to be

Love the mistakes

Love it all

Because God made you

And he makes no mistakes

Because God loves you

He made you and you are exactly right

Don’t listen to a wife that puts you down

Or any one that makes you frown

Just be yourself, whoever that is

You’ll know it as soon as you begin

To Simply Love Yourself

You are who you are

You can’t change the past

Nor can you predict to future

But the NOW is what you have

SO embrace it

Love it

Love yourself

I’ve told you before

That I’ll open the door

But not to a hater full of anger and fear

I don’t need that in my life right now, dear

But I love you none the less

Don’t think about the mess

Just take that step and listen

Love yourself and listen

Ask for help and listen

Your worries have closed up your mind

To submission

Don’t submit to confusion and dissolution

Don’t submit to lies and compromise

Just Love yourself

Then you’ll know what to do

Just love yourself

Do you know how it’s done?

I’ve given up trying to change you

Or tell you how much I care

I know as long as she’s there

It will be ‘Schwer’ (hard/ difficult)

Well I guess that’s not true

No one gets the blame but you

But then again

I don’t want to blame

That would be such a shame

I just want to tell you

That I still love you

and encourage you to love yourself

As I have learned to love myself

4

Just a little note


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It’s too hard to fight. I just want to live. To be at peace and let you be at peace. To share my thoughts and how they became a part of my life, a part of my being is often too hard. I don’t want to explain or defend. I don’t need to know how you came to the conclusion. You be who you are and I’ll be me. That’s all we can do to set ourselves free. Free from the past and the future to be, free from judgment from hate and confusement. I love you, yes all of you, it’s true. Let it be known, there is nothing you can do! Nothing to make me hate you or fear you or loath you. You are how you are and that is the best you can be. So before we ask questions, just to start a fight, before we get scared and want to take the next flight, let us remember that God made us this way, we are perfect, we are precious, in our very own way.

10

Parenting is a Journey of ‘Love’


IMG_3939I take what I can from parenting books, but don’t let theory get me down. I know what is best for my children, but that doesn’t mean I never consider another parents point of view. I love to hear how other parents raise their children, which is why I am sharing my parenting style with you.

 

Every parent has a different parenting ‘style’ because every parent, child, family and life situation is different. ‘There is no perfect’ way. Figuring out what works for me, my children, family, and situation is an ever changing journey. Sometimes it is hard and sometimes I smile inwardly at how smooth everything is flowing.

 

I will never say that my way is the best way for you. It is best for me and my family in our situation.

 

Children grow, life and death happen, taste and points a view change. We learn with every expiriance, we change as we grow, we read, we make mistakes, we are humans.

 

I do not define myself as only mother.

 

I am a mother for three little people in this world and one inside of me. I am wife for one person, my husband. I am daughter to two parents and two step-parents. I am sister to four siblings, a sister and 3 step-bothers. I am cousin, niece and granddaughter to a handful of family members. I am a friend to many and an aquaintance to many more people.

 

But I am much more…

 

I am a writer when I write, a painter, a decorater, a cleaning lady, a reader, a singer, a teacher, a dancer, a cook, a swimmer, a drawer, a patient, a nurse, a researcher, a photographer, a philosopher, a thinker, a protester, a problem solver, an organizer, a perfectionist trying not to be one, a hair dresser, a masseuse, a native and a foreigner.

 

But this does not define my soul…I am Love

 

All of the things that I mentioned above can change in an instant. If people pass away then I cannot define myself in relation to them any longer. If I get sick and am restricted then I can no longer define myself by the things that I do. If I die, how will I be remembered and what part of me continues into the afterlife… Only how much I loved.

 

So love is the key to my being. And it is therefore the source of all my action. And consequently my parenting.

 

Was it always this way? No. I didn’t understand the meaning of love. I didn’t understand that we all are love, every single person on this earth. Now that I do it has changed the way that see myself and evidently the way that I see others. I love every person. I am united to all people through the love that we are. We were born of the Creator who is love in its purest form.

 

Once I began to truly love myself, loving others became natural. How can I decide who is worthy of love? Aren’t we all siblings? Who am I to say who is worthy and who is not? We are all worthy. If there was a criteria to the worthiness of love then we would all fail because we are all human. But there is no criteria. We are love. Whether we know it or not we are brothers and sisters, born of Love into love and return as love.

 

That being said, you now know the bases of my parenting and what to expect in this blog.

 

  1. Parenting is a journey that never ends.
  2. There is no perfect parenting.
  3. The most important thing I tell my children is ‘’I love you!’’
  4. The most important thing I give my children is ‘’my time’’. It is not the quantity rather the quality that counts.
  5. The most important thing I show my children is that I love myself. So that they can learn by example to love themselves.

Our most important rules

  1. Use your hand and feet for good. (No hitting, kicking ect.)
  2. Use your words wisely. Speak positively about others. (No name calling)
  3. All emotions are accepted. (not all actions)
  4. Speak softly with one another.  (no yelling)
  5. Listen

Now I invite you to share: What drives your parenting? What are the most inportant rules in your family?

And of course I always love reading and replying to your comments. Thank your for spending this time with me. Rebekah Butterfly

Let’s get naturaly happy together!

0

How to keep lice away without a preventative chemical spray, 4 simple steps.


If you have a girl with long hair and hear that lice, is going around in school, don’t panic. I can give you a fool prove way of keeping her lice free.IMG_4765

1. Don’t wash her hair. The little bugs love clean scalps, it is easier for them to suck blood from dirt free heads.

2. Braid her hair in as many braids as you can stand to braid and don’t take them out until the epidemic is over. It is hard for the lice to build nests in tight spaces.

3. Rub lavender oil or teabaumöl, (a German word for an oil from the tea trees in Australia), directly on your Childs scalp. The little bugs don’t like the smell and stay away.

4. Other than telling her not to use combs, jackets, hats ect. from others, put all of her school items in a plastic bag. No hanging jackets on the hooks…no, no, put then in the plastic bag that hangs on the hook. Lice doesn’t jump, contrary to popular belief. They crawl from jacket to jacket. So it really doesn’t matter who she plays with, it matters next to whose jacket her jacket may hang.

If you DO have lice, DON’T use the Chemicals on your children under two years of age, just pull the suckers off, it is too dangerous for your child otherwise.

If you do have lice don’t panic. You don’t have to freeze the stuffed animals, or change sheets every night. You don’t have to vacuum the house like crazy. Just spend an afternoon in front of the telli with your kids and comb those suckers out (after using the chemical spry). Nine days later, do it again. You can send your children to school directly after the first treatment.

6

Learning to Love


Hello friends,

Learning to love, starts by loving yourself. I want to tell you a little story about my journey toward love. I always thought I should love others. I did love other. I loved others so much that I put everyone else before myself.

 

I thought I was doing well, but I wasn’t at all in tune with my own needs and limits. I became so frustrated and didn’t know why. Some people call this behavior being a push over. I call it simply not understanding what love is.

 

I asked myself over and over, ”What is love?” In some languages there is more than one word for love. There is love of the Parents, love of the Siblings, love of the Friends, love of the Spouse, love as Lust… and the list goes on.

 

I even contacted my first ”love” and asked him what he thinks about love. Did he love me then? Does he love me know? Can love really dissolve? Did I love him? Or did I just like the attention?

 

I have slept with a man that I did not ”love”. Call me what you will. You are allowed to have your own opinion. But in some way I did love him. I just knew, that I did not want to spend the rest of my life with him. Short lived. I am married to a man that I love. But I’m not always running around ”in love” with him.

 

So what is love? What does it mean? And how do we express it?
I spent the other night talking with a new friend about just this. She told me, that love is not always the same. She loves her family members in a different way than she loves her friends. She said she doesn’t love people that she doesn’t know.

 

I said, ”I love everyone just the same.”

 

She tried to convince me that this is impossible. Arguing that you can’t treat everyone the same. Saying, ”You don’t have enough time to love everyone.” Meaning there are billions of people in the world and if I love them all the same then I must behave a certain way toward them. Like, ask them how they are doing and spend time with them.

 

I replied, ”Loving everyone doesn’t mean spending an unlimited amount of time with them it means treating them with respect.”

 

Her reply, ”Respect is not love. Respect is respect.”

 

”Right,” I say, ”but respect is an expression of love. Everything we do is an expression of how in tune we are with the love that we are. See, we are love. We are born as a bundle of love. Love is the only everlasting ‘part’ of us. It is our very soul. We all came from the same love source. Love gave birth to love. And here we are on earth. One day we will be united in love, with our creator, who made us in his own likeness, unconditional love. Do you follow me?”

 
”I’m listening.”

 
”So while I may not have time to speak with every person on the planet, I can still treat the people, that I meet with respect. I recognize that we are all love. Does this mean that I’m perfect? Not by any means.

 
I spend more time with you, because I have gotten to know you and we communicate well. Does it mean that I love or respect you more than others? No. I love you just the same. Does that mean that I have to do, what you say or try to make you happy? No.

 
I love everyone just the same. But I don’t have to sit around and allow people to hurt me. For example: My Father and step mother have hurt me in so many ways. The funny thing is, I doubt they even realize this or care. I still love them both. But I don’t subject myself to being hurt by them.

 

 

”So, you are saying we should love people that hurt us. But what about people who murder? Should we love them?” My friend asks.

 

 

Now, I ‘m not going to lie to you. I had to take a moment to collect my thoughts. I said, ‘ You and I don’t have to love anyone. Fact is, we all are love. Do we have to like the fact that murder happens? NO! Lock a murderer up. Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should let them hurt you. In Fact, Please go away from them. Leave, out of love.

 

 

If you have ever hurt someone emotionally or physical, then you know, that it hurts you as well. And we are all humans, so I’m sure that every person can identify with this at some level. We are not perfect.

 

 
So I see it this way. If someone hurts me, I get out of the way. If I keep putting myself in the line of fire, then I’m hurting myself by not moving. I’m helping someone else hurt themselves by allowing them to hurt me.”
My new friend, who normally always has something to say, was quiet.

 

 
”Are you ok? Did I put you to sleep?” I asked.

 

 
”No, no, I just have a lot to think about.”

 

 

Speaking about murder was not the goal of this message, although I assume it will get the most attention. It is a sensitive subject. I have no authority or personal experience with it. I have never known anyone, who has had their life taken away at the hands of another human. And if we speak of murder, then it is difficult to avoid the topic of war. I do not judge anyone. Who am I to judge? I am trying to figure things out myself.
If you have lost some you knew in this manner, then I am very sorry. I can’t even begin to understand how it has affected you. I don’t pretend to understand. Feel free to write a message and I will pray for you.

 

 

So my personal journey did not end with this conversation. I went on to learn what it means to be good to myself, to love myself. I am learning to take time to listen to myself. What is my body feeling? What does it need? What is my mind saying? What does it need?

 

 
I have banned two words ‘must’ and ‘should’ from my vocabulary. It is great. I ‘desire’ or ‘want’ to do something and that is why I do it. I love myself and found that I automatically love others in return. I respect myself and found that for the first time, I really know what it means to respect others.

 
This has been inspiring for me and I hope for you too. Until next time…
Love Rebekah Butterfly

0

Why I moved to Germany.


It was the summer of 2004. I had just turned 19 years old. Johann was in from Germany. It was one week till our wedding.

”Get out of my house!” yells my stepmother as she throws Johann’s suitcase out of the front door. His saxophone came flying right behind.

Johann took his things planning on taking a walk around the block and coming back after everything had cooled down. But he never came back.

I later found out that my father drove up behind him and said, ”Get in the car. I’m going to take you to the airport. And if I see you at my house again I’m going to call the cops.”

Today I am married to Johann. We live in Germany and have three children. What happened back then was 10 years ago and I am only able to write about it now.

This is my true story. It’s about following my heart, persevering and forgiveness.

The music was playing loud in the other room. I was using my break to fill out my application. I wanted to spend one school year in Germany. Only a hand full of high school students would be selected to go. Sweat covered my body. I had been dancing for 4 hours straight. The clock ticked away as I scrambled to finish, skipping dinner and then it was time to go back out.

I spent four to five days a week dancing. My mother had always supported me. Sending me to dance class from age 6 until I moved out. She or my stepdad drove me faithfully to every class, even after we moved making the drive much longer. Both worked full time jobs away from home and my mother finished collage by going to night classes, then went on to receive her MBA. She spent her hard earned money on my school, my cloths and my dance. She never put a limit or condition on my dancing. (Thanks Mom…and Stepdad) They came to every TPAC performance and my mom never failed to help me with hair, makeup and outfits.

My dad supported me by coming to my performances until he got married to his third wife. At an age where girls are self-conscience about their weight my step mother managed to make it worse by voicing her opinion after one the best shows of my life. I was very proud of myself. Then here she comes, ”No one could concentrate on the dancing. Ever one was just staring at that fat girl. Why do they let her dance?”

Who makes comments like that? Realy? And she was serious.

Well, there was a dance class close to where my dad lived, around the time I was appling for the exchange year in Germany. I asked him if I could stay the night at his house one night a week so that I could attend this class.

Now keep in mind my father had been wanting me and my sister to live with him ever since my mother left him. That was in 1989. So I figured he would be thrilled. But no, he would only take me to the class if I got all A’s. I was going to a private catholic school, not the easiest in the world. So when I got a B it was over.

On a three week trip to Germany with my schools German class I received a letter, letting me know, that I had made it. I was selected to spend my senior year in Germany. I didn’t know then how this letter would change the course of my life forever.

My German teacher who was with us did the same exchange program when she was in high school and was the person who told me about it. I gave her the letter as we stepped into the bus. ”I made it.” I said. This was so crazy. I was in Germany, letting my German teacher know, that I would be returning in just under 2 months to spend a year with the same exchange program, that she went with, when she was in high school.

The bus took off. Taking us to an unknown place. A new adventure lay ahead. What it would bring, we did not know. Just as I did not know where my one year journey would take me.

My stepmother took me on a jog with her before I left for Germany. She ran regularly. I disliked running. I’m more of an aerobic girl. She made me run closest to the curb where the road dips down on one side so that rain water can smoothly flow away. After a while my leg started to burn and I needed a break. Why did I go jogging with her? She wanted to hang out with me. I thought she wanted to bond. I told her, I’m not into jogging, but she insisted. I felt sorry for her. So I went. I thought she would take it easy on me, knowing, that I don’t jog.

So my leg is burning. I stop for a minute and tell her, that if we are to continue, that I don’t want to be on the slanted side of the road.

”Oh, now see there. You are weaker than you think you are. You don’t realize how weak and unfit you are until you start to work out. Then the truth is revealed to you. Just like when you go to Germany. You think you are strong in your faith, but when you get to Germany where temptation is high, that’s when you will realize how weak you are. But it will be too late. You should reconsider going on this exchange year. What you really need is to be around strong Christians, who can show you how to follow Christ.”

I’m thinking ”What is she trying to prove? I’m not hurt because I’m unfit rather because I’ve been running at a tilt for about two miles. Neither do I claim to be a supper fit Christian at age 18. But what do I say to this woman who wants to prove a point and make me feel bad?” So I said I just want to run on the other side, that way I won’t be in so much pain.

”See there, you go making excuses for yourself. The truth is that you are not in shape and you don’t want to admit it. Just like you are not ready to spend a year in another country and you don’t want to admit it.” says my stepmother.

Wow. I don’t even know what to say. Shortly after this whole ordeal, my dad asks me to move in with him. To explain how crazy this offer is, I would have to explain what happened just two years prior… I was at my dads’ house for the weekend visitation. These visitations were every other weekend for 10 years. I had never missed a weekend not even when my dad lived in another state.

I was sitting at the table having a conversation with my father when my stepmother yells something from the couch. She come storming over and starts talking loud to me. My dad just sits there and does nothing. I have no idea what we were talking about. I remember being confused and thinking this has nothing to do with you. My sister says what I was thinking. She starts yelling at my stepmother for disturbing the conversation between me and my father. My stepmother started yelling at my sister. There was no room left for my father or I to say anything. The two just kept yelling at each other. My father and I never finished our conversation.

My sister drove home that night begging me to come with her. I said ”No, I want to stay. I’m sure we’ll talk calmly about it tomorrow and figure things out. I’m not going to give up by leaving. Tomorrow is Sunday. I’m sure we’ll figure this out. But if you want to leave then I won’t stop you. I understand.”

My sister left. I went to sleep confused but hopeful. I just knew we would all be laughing about it by tomorrow night.

The next day came. The house was unusually still. I didn’t see or hear my stepmother and my father didn’t say a word to me. I knew that we would go to church, so I got myself ready. We went to the car and then I say my stepmother scurry out of the house and into a separate car. Unusual, we normally all ride together. My dad normally used car rides to lecture me and sister about uncomfortable topics such as sex. So we can’t just get up and leave. I figured he wanted to lecture me in the car so I didn’t say anything. I just waited for him to begin. He didn’t say a word. We drove and drove until we can to the interstate and I realized he was not taking me to church. I asked him where we were going. He just smirked.

We continued to drive for a while before I realized he was taking me back to my mothers’ house. Of course she was not there. She was not expecting me to be brought home early. As we sat in the drive way I asked why he took me home.

”Devlin and I think it is best if you don’t come back to see us for a while.” says my dad.

”What? Like skip a weekend?” I asked ”Why?”

”More like two months. We need some time alone.” replies my dad as if two weeks between visitation wasn’t enough.

”Ok but why?” I asked

”I’ll write you a letter explaining everything.” he says.

”A letter. Just tell me now then we can work it out.” I plea.

”No I’m going to write it in a letter.” he says coolly.

”But I don’t understand, did I do something wrong. Just tell me what it is.” I plea again.

”I also won’t be calling you. If you want contact you need to call us. The ball is in your court now. You are in high school and if you want to talk to us you can call.” He says.

I ask myself again and again where this is coming from and why. What does he mean by ”the ball is in my court.” He never calls me anyways and now it is ”in my court.” What?

Two months come and go. No letters. I call my dad and ask him if we should come and visit him or not. The two months are over.

He says no. He thinks the break should be longer.

I asked him why and he said I could read all about it in the letter. I said ”what letter we haven’t received any letters from you.”

That’s right the letters were never sent. That is because they are not finished. I asked when they would be finished and he did not know.

Four months later, I received my letter, along with my mother and sister. I figured after waiting for a total of six months these letters would be the size of a short story but they were only one to two pages each. And there was a paragraph cut out of mine and pasted into my sisters letter. That would have been ok except the paragraph started like this, ”Rebekah, you and your sister Kelly…” That was my sisters’ letter. My name is Rebekah not hers.

After getting over the initial shock of these unthoughtful letters that explained nothing to me about why I my father stopped visitation, I gave him a call. ”I just read the letter you sent. I don’t understand. Can you explain them to me.” I asked him.

”Everything is explained in the letter.” My dad replies.

”So you are telling me that you stopped visitation because I didn’t send thank you cards to my stepmother after we visited. I didn’t know, that it was expected of me to send my stepmother a thank you card after visiting every other weekend, considering we have been visiting you our whole lives. Fine. But then you write, ‘you notice improvement in me because you heard from your mother, that I sent her a nice letter.’ I always send her nice letters. That is nothing new. I don’t understand what you are trying to say here.” I say in confusion.

”Well that is not all I wrote in the letters.” he tries to explain.

”No, you are right. That is not all. But nothing in this letter explains to me why you stopped visitation. We had an argument. No Devalin and my sister Kelly had an argument. The two of us were just talking. And anyways arguments can be worked out. We could have just talked about it and worked it out. Kelly left that night but I stayed so that we could get things worked out. You gave it no chance. Then told me you need a break from me, your daughter. You have been doing nothing but telling us how our mother ruined your life when she left you because she took away the most precious things in your life, me and Kelly. Then you just the throw us out the minute it gets hard.”

Silence

I’m on the verge of tears. ”You said it would be two months. That you needed a two month break. You said you would write letters in that time explaining everything. This explains nothing. And it took you six months to write it. I can’t believe that. There are mistakes in these letters, big mistakes. There are accusations that make no since. For example, you pouring orange juice for my friends and I at the breakfast table after they stayed over for the night. I should have poured orange juice for myself. What? What does your pouring orange juice, have to do with me?”

My dad, ”I shouldn’t baby you. You are in high school.”

”I don’t see pouring orange juice as babying. Where is this coming from? And I could have poured it myself. Why should I, if you already have? This is non since. There is no way that you put even a little thought into these letters. How do you think that makes me feel?”

Silence, then, ”I did spend a lot of time on the letters.” I start crying. ”I put a lot of thought into them. I’m sorry if you don’t understand. And I am sorry that it took so long.”

At some point I forgave him. That is why I started visiting him again. It never turned back into a regular, every other weekend, visitation. But I convinced myself to be happy with being able to visit my dad and Devlin whenever they felt like having time for me. My sister stopped visiting, she was angry for a long time.

Now you can see, why my dad offering me to live with him, just kind of threw me off guard. He didn’t really ask thought. He kind of told me that he is my father and knows what is best for me. He started attending a church that later turned out to be a cult. But none of us knew that at the time. He told me that his role as a father is clearer than ever now. He really is a Christian now and just thought he was before. He said that he and Devlin are the ‘strong Christians’ that I need in my life right now. Remember that I attend a catholic school. I attended church every Sunday with my mother. And had been confirmed not to long ago. But that did not stop my father and Devlin from thinking they know what is best. Especially now that they have a ‘church’ to back them up.

Let me think…stay in the USA with my mother even thought I have been selected to spend a year in Germany when she supports me, is happy for me and willing to pay the 200 a month necessary for the trip and fly me to DC where we are to meet the other families and leave for Germany. Or stay in the USA with my crazy stepmother and unreliable father. Or go to Germany, have a new experience, meet new people, a new way of living, master a second language, and gain a new world view before starting college. What would you have done?

I chose Germany. Although I must admit I considered staying with my father. He and my stepmother where very persuasive and pushy. I was almost afraid he would disown me, like he disowned my sister for  marrying her first husband, if I didn’t move in with him. He refused to walk her down the isle. I’ll admit, Kellys first husband was a jerk, but in the end, it is my sisters’ life. She has to make her own decisions. It is the families’ job to give support, advice when asked for, and to love unconditionally.

Isn’t loving unconditionally the quintacential message? The most important message of Jesus? If you claim to be such a Strong Christian, start loving first.

While this post does not explain why I moved to Germany for good, it does give insight into why it wasn’t hard for me to leave my home, my country and my family for a year.

I notice that it leaves the question open, why did Devlin throw Johanns’ things out of the house? And how did I end up marrying him?

I realized that in order to answer these questions I would need to go back even further and that it would take a book to explain every detail.

So I started a new blog called Ten years in Germany, a story of a young girl following her heart.

In order to protect people I have changed names and some information. It is not totally a true story. The events are as true as I can remember. No events are exaggerated to make a good story.