My husband and I led a Bible study for the students at the Methodist Student Center at our alma mater this past weekend. It was good to be back in the Mountains of eastern Kentucky. There is something about being in the Mountains that restores me. And engaging with college age people is energizing.
When I left for college, a mere 18-year-old, 36 years ago I had no idea what a special place Morehead would be for me. I chose this college for two main reasons; it had a very good social work department, and the campus had a lot of grass. Yes, I chose my college because of the grass.
I grew up in rural southern Ohio on a small farm. I spent my childhood and adolescence in the country. I got up early before school to do my barn chores. I loved the farm, I loved being outdoors. I loved the cats, our dog, the horses and even the smells of the barn. It was my horse that got me through the emotional ups and downs of my teenage years as I spent my time in his stall with him.
When my parents took me to look at different colleges it seemed all I saw was concrete and blacktop. It was not until I went to Morehead that I saw grass and trees and I knew this was where I wanted to be. Morehead State University is nestled in a valley, surrounded by mountains. I came to call these mountains home during my four years at Morehead. When I did return to Ohio on the weekends, I would see the rolling hills of my hometown as almost suffocating and I would long to get back to Morehead where I could breathe. I know now that it was not really the mountains but more so the freedom I felt living my own life away from my family.
Being back in Morehead this past weekend brought back many memories. Some in the form of feelings. Many things have changed in the 36 years since I started my freshman year but that feeling of being free remains. Morehead is mine. I share it with my husband because that is where we met and fell in love, but I don’t share it with my parents. They were never really interested in my life there. I grew up in Morehead, I grew in my faith. I developed into my own person.
My husband and I met when I was 18 and he was 22. Fortunately, he was a class short of graduating in the spring and had to take one more class in the fall. We have always felt our meeting was orchestrated by God. As we shared our story with the current students, we realized just how much things had changed in Morehead. Back in October of 1985, Kurt picked me up for our first date at Waterfield Hall that no longer exists, we ate at Sir Pizza, which no longer exists and then we went to the movie theatre downtown that also no longer exists. We have outlasted these landmarks of our beginning.
As a college freshman I was expected to come home every weekend to help with the chores of the farm. I had to have a good excuse to stay on campus for the weekend and be a typical college student. On those few weekends I did manage to stay in Morehead I loved it. I loved the quietness of the campus. I loved hanging out with friends. It is amazing that I integrated myself as well as I did into college with having to travel back to Ohio on the weekends. I did not have a car my freshman year and so I had to rely on other kids from our area that were going home and there were always kids coming home.
That first disappointing weekend home as a freshman full of stories of college and the exciting events of my new life. I was eager to share my new experience with my family when I was met by my mother who told me to throw my dirty clothes in with their laundry and “just do it all”. My heart sunk, my stories went untold and instead of being welcomed in, I felt like I was being punished for being gone. It seemed like I was in trouble for being a normal high school graduate going on with the next stage of life. I did all the laundry that weekend, but I never brought my dirty clothes home again. If that meant staying up late to launder my clothes in the basement of our dorm, that was a price I was willing to pay. When my mother tells this story now, as she likes to do, I come off sounding very self-centered and uncaring.
This story is just one example of many ways my family of origin impacted my faith. I am only beginning to fully comprehend how distorted my understanding of the Christian faith has been. It is beginning to make sense why it is so hard to do things for myself. I have found it hard to let go of this notion that when I do what is best for me, I am not being selfish. I was labeled that so often throughout my childhood. Messages like this have led to my understanding of God. I have always seen God as a critical, judgmental, harsh being who loves me but who I will never be able to fully please. A God who sees me as my parents see me, selfish and uncaring. This early scaring has followed me into my adult life
As we sat with the participants in the Bible study at the Methodist Student Center that night I felt as though I was straddling two worlds. And maybe more significantly two different faiths. The faith of my youth that I have struggled to hold onto so fiercely and the faith I am finding as I let go of those beliefs that I no longer ring true for me. Towards the end of our time with the students the campus minister asked my husband and I if we hear God differently now than we did when we were in college. As my husband was answering this question, I thought about what I wanted to say and what I heard myself saying was that I am learning to trust my gut, I am learning to hear God through my truest self. For most of my life my own true voice was drowned out by all the criticism and harsh judgements I heard in my head. Leftovers from my childhood surely but also added to by my own inner critic.
I will always love the mountains. They will forever be a representation of freedom. I believe the mountains now hold a new freedom for me. The freedom to explore my faith, to let go of what needs to die out so that I can hold more tightly to that which is truly life giving.