I was recently remembering how it felt to fall in love. I know what you are thinking right now….”oh no, not a mushy, I-Love-My-Husband post!” And it isn’t really… It is actually the story of how God worked in two unbeliever’s lives to bring them together and bring them to the point we are at now.
Bud was born in Montgomery and lived in the same house that his parents still live in to this day (which is four houses down and across the street from where we live now!). He was the youngest child and only boy of four children. So he was spoiled rotten by his parents AND three older sisters. His dad was a cabinet maker who owned his own business. His mom was a stay at home mom who also did the books for their business. He was also a redneck all the way.
My life was as different from that as you could get. I was born in Denver, Colorado and was adopted by my parents at the age of 2 months. I had one older brother who was four years older than me and was also adopted. We moved every three-four years. By the time I was in ninth grade we had moved as follows: Denver, Colorado, Redlands, California, Montgomery, Alabama, Redlands, California (long stint of 8 years this time), then back to Montgomery, Alabama. My dad was an auditor for the Department of Defense in the Air Force Audit Agency. My mom was a stay at home mom who worked part-time as the church secretary when we were older.
As for religion, Bud grew up as a Southern Baptist. His dad was chairman of the deacons at one time and they were all VERY active in church. When Bud was around 11 years old, there was an incident in the church and Bud’s father was unhappy as to how it was handled and consequently left the church. While they went on to another Baptist Church, they were never as involved ever again.
I grew up Lutheran. My dad had been Southern Baptist but switched to my mom’s denomination after marriage. I was “sprinkled” as a baby and was confirmed in ninth grade. Both Bud and I were as lost as could be….
My family moved back to Montgomery when I was in the ninth grade. I was absolutely miserable in this totally alien place. Everyone acted totally different and there were a lot of race problems. Having spent a lot of time in Southern California, I was oblivious to racism. My parents were not racists in anyway. The only experience in my life of racism was when I was in elementary school.
I saw the most beautiful Barbie in the world and I wanted her so bad. She was African American with the loveliest black hair and brown eyes. At the time, most every Barbie only had blue eyes. Since I have brown eyes, I was mesmerized with this brown-eyed Barbie. I had to have her. My mom got her for me and I was so happy. That is until we started playing Barbies the next time and my best friend wouldn’t let my beautiful black Barbie be the mommy with my white daddy Ken doll. She told me she had to be the maid. I was so mad and hurt that I packed up my toys and went home.
Part II coming soon!