Two Pink Lines

So I’d been going to church for a while. We plugged into a small group, where I really did meet some great people of whom I am still connected.

I was trying. I was trying to fit in. I was trying to be involved, like they told me to. I was trying to get to small group every week and church every Sunday, like they told me to. I usually enjoyed it. I was meeting new people, and they were friendly and accepting, for the most part. Praying out loud was weird. I struggled to actually sit and read the Bible.

As I was trying to grow in Christ, our relationship was growing, too. We sort of talked about marriage; both of us were just 20 years old. In hindsight, I probably pushed him to engagement. I wanted that perfect family that I saw at church every Sunday. The kids. The house. The all of it.

We got married. It was a fun wedding. Four wheelers, fall flowers, dancing – no alcohol, though. I turned 21 three days before we got married. His family didn’t approve of alcohol, so we passed. I didn’t really know if I was missing anything in not having alcohol at my first wedding. I had never drank, and I didn’t really drink until I was about 25. I told you, while I was having a secret relationship with a married man more than twice my age, I was a compliant, rule following chica.

Marriage was hard. (Marriage IS hard.) We had no clue what we were doing. We moved into a little apartment, set up house and we were both working. We got married in October. I quit my job that December. I hated the job, and so – no loss there.

That January, I was sitting in the living room by myself and decided I was tired of being overweight. Like pretty far overweight. I made drastic changes to my diet and started working out. Not a couple weeks later, I missed my period.

Holy crap. We had dated a year, we were engaged a year and we were only married 3 months when I got pregnant.

This was a pretty drastic change from the girl who was never getting married, never having kids and was going to go to college to be a journalist and move to DC.

Now I was 21, newly saved, newly married, newly pregnant and totally clueless.

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