I was born in Arizona and moved to Texas when I was 2. I was raised in Freeport till I was about 8. During that time my dad traveled a lot. I think that's why things fell apart for my parents. They fought all the time. I don't remember much from that time, except a few fights they had, and a little about my brother and sister. I was the baby, so they probably hid a lot from me.
My parents divorced when I was about 8 and mom and moved to Sweeny, Texas. We lived there for about a year. She met this guy who was wanted by the police. I'm not sure if it was her idea or his, but we moved to California to live with my grandma. It wasn't long till that guy split and my mom met another guy. After being in Cali for about a year they decided to move us again to Tennessee, where his family is from.
Shortly after settling in Tennessee with his family, they got married, and they found their own place. A small house trailer in a little neighborhood.
During all this moving around, my dad had no idea where we went. I heard that he knew we ended up in California, but my grandma would tell him we weren't home or I was at a friend's house. Always have him reasons why my mom and I couldn't talk to him. I'm not sure why, all I knew is I went years without seeing him or talking to him and my mom never admitted to keeping me from him and my dad said that he called all the time and threatened to send the authorities after her.
It wasn't till my step-dad started really being mean and hitting my mom till she decided to call my dad for help. At that time I got to talk to him and was able to on a regular basis. Things started to get bad. I wanted to go to church and the bus would come right by our house. Some weeks I went and others my step-dad wouldn't let me. Either my room wasn't clean enough or I was grounded. Actually, that year I was grounded the whole school year for my grades. He always did things out of spite. I never really understood why.
My mom finally got the courage to leave. I think my dad sent her money to get us out of there and into our own apartment, and he came to visit us. I remember being so excited! It had been 4 years, I think, maybe 5.
I'll stop right there....
At this time in my life when my dad came back into our lives, I was about 12 or 13ish. God wasn't on my mind, but I think he intervened. Maybe for my dad or maybe for us, I don't know. I don't think any of us were living for him, but God knows what needs to be done to get you where you need to be. How to align things to make the right things happen. It may take years or even a decade for you to see how situations play out for you or someone else to see the finale.