I Am My Own Higher Power

At a meeting with my son's school counselor, this woman looked at me and asked me about my religion in front of oh, about six other people. Taken aback, I mumbled something about how I don't go to church. She charged in like a pit bull, stating that wasn't the question she asked. Then she asked, "Who do you lean on when things get tough? Who is your Higher Power?"

Hmmm. I thought about that for a second. I didn't answer right away, and honestly, I was hoping that she would just let it go, but she obviously expected an answer. I drew my shoulders back, looked her dead in the eye, and told her who my Higher Power was. "I am."

I grew up in a First Baptist church. I was baptized when I was 13, in accordance to the church's beliefs, in a great big pool of water that was hidden under the pulpit. That was a day I'll never forget. Under the heavy white robe they had us wear, I had my nicest dress on, my hair done all in curls, and I had to take my glasses off before I made my way down the steps. I thought I was whispering when I told the pastor that I couldn't see anything, but apparently I wasn't because the whole congregation laughed. Unceremoniously, I plugged my nose, the pastor tipped me backward, and plunged my head under the water. Then apparently, I was saved, or something.

A couple years later, my father passed away. This took me away from the church. I didn't want to step foot in the church where my father's funeral was, and frankly, I was madder than hell at God for taking my father away from me. Fifteen years wasn't long enough to get to know my father.

The next 10 years I wandered aimlessly, not caring one bit about my soul or my position in Heaven upon my death. Then I hit a rocky patch in my marriage, and I decided to find religion again. I was working at our local newspaper, and the reporter was also a minister at a Pentecostal church - Assemblies of God, to be precise.

Desperate to belong to something, I threw myself into the church. I volunteered to head the nursery. When the position opened up, I applied to teach the pre-school Sunday school class. My pastor agreed, since he figured it would be a good learning tool for me as well. A refresher course, if you will.

I loved my time at the Assembly of God church. I had a support system, people I could rely on. Then suddenly, that was gone when I found out my husband had an affair with a member of my church! Apparently everyone else had known before I did, because the girl in question had 'confessed' it. How could I face everyone? Somehow I managed and even forgave her, since that was the Christian thing to do, even though what I really wanted to do was punch her in the mouth.

I was just recovering from that when a couple church members decided they didn't like the pastor anymore. The pastor I adored and loved, the man who helped me through so much, was suddenly being picked apart in the community. Their behavior was completely un-Christianlike and it boggled my mind. My last Sunday at church was also my beloved pastor's last Sunday.

Fast forward a year. My marriage ended in divorce, and I was getting no support financially from my ex-husband. Together we had two small children, and I was barely scraping by. I decided that if we were going to survive, it was up to me.

I am the one who has to make sure there is food on the table. I am the one who figures out which bills to pay. I am the one who cleans the house, does the laundry, takes the garbage out. I am the one who works full-time to support me and my two beautiful children. I am the one who practiced throwing a baseball with my son and taught my daughter how to do somersaults. I am the one who found the resources I need to get by.

If this sounds bitter, it's not. I'm not bitter. I just realized that I was the only one who controlled my future, my destiny. My answer to the school counselor brought many shocked gasps, but it was true. Who do I rely on when things get tough? Me, myself and I. That's it. I am my own Higher Power.