In my last post, I began to tell my story. Here I am now to finish it as best as I can.
For the next two or three weeks, we spent our time in a hotel and our camper, because we had no house here. Finally, we found a house, and started to move in. It took us only a day or two to unpack everything, and I got started right away at unpacking my boxes and getting things organized in this new room of mine.
Despite the pain.
Despite the gut feeling that this wasn't right.
It wasn't home.
For three or four weeks we went to a church called Northside.
We stopped going there when I heard a guy talking about me right behind my back.
The first night I was there, he was all nice to me and tried to make me feel welcome.
Well, let me just say I felt so discouraged right then, that I decided to tell my parents not to go back to that church.
I remember his name was Josh.
I remember he told me he lived in Running Man, which made me want to stay completely away from that neighborhood as much as I could and at all costs.
I remember he told me he just graduated from Tabb High School, which made me not want to go to that school and to avoid it at all costs. (and then we found out we had picked a house that went to that school o.O)
It just was not a good experience for me.
And also, I remember at that church, the first week we went there, it was the day after we had arrived in Virginia, and we didn't have a house.
I had to fill out one of those vistor cards, you know?
But there was a problem.
I didn't have an address.
I didn't have a home phone number.
I didn't have a school.
I didn't have a neighborhood.
All I really had was a name and my dad's work place.
You get what I mean? How I had a problem?
Yeah.
It was so depressing.
We tried out another church, but I didn't like this one any better.
Megan came down to Virginia Beach, and along the way, she visited me.
We had a blast, going to the park and took a bunch of pictures, sitting aorund and talking, and simply just being together like old(ish) times.
Also, I met a girl who lived down the street from us. We started hanging out, and I got a really good feeling inside of me like it was God giving me this girl to be friends with. It was the first feeling of hope that I had had inside of me for a long time.
A week or two later, we went to Liberty Baptist Church, for the grand opening of the new worship center. It was HUGE. And I mean huge. Somewhere around 7,000 people.
That Wednesday, I went to Tabb to register and sign up for everything.
They told me that if I wanted to be in band class, then I would have to be in marching band. At first I thought I could get out of it, since they had just started that day, but no, they said I would have to start the very next day. I started crying right there in the school office.
Later that awful day, I had to go to the doctor. My brother was planning on getting shots, and I was just tagging along because the doctor had to sign some thing of mine that I was up to date with all of my shots.
Well apparently he couldn't sign it, because I needed three.
Guess who also got three shots that day.
Wipee.
Guess who also cried like a little baby and had to be held down for them to get that needle even close to me.
Yup.
I don't do well with needles. At all.
So arms hurting and all, that night, I went to Liberty youth group to check it out and see the youth praise team and see if it was anything that I would like to be a part of.
Well, needless to say... they were really good and I loved it.
I met a few people and followed them around all night.
And I also shut down. I didn't talk, except when spoken to.
I guess I just kinda figured it was just another church and why bother getting to know everyone and opening up when we would just be switching churches again anyway.
Well anyways, the very next day, I showed up at Tabb High School for my first day of marching band. It was awful. I walked into the tiny band room and immediately felt totally overwhelmed and like I was going to cry. I knew no one. Not a single person. But really, how could I have?
Somehow, I managed to get by, but it was the worst week of learning how to march of my entire life. (the only one too, but it was terrible anyway.)
At the end of the month, there was a hurricane and everyone freaked out and evacuated, but turns out the damage where we had gone too was worse than it was back at the house. And the wind storm in 7th grade was way worse than that thing too.
On my birthday, we went to beach, just cause we could. Without driving hours and hours and hours.
A few days later, we started school. Again, somehow I made it through. I met people here and there, and recognized a few from marching band. I don't know how, but I got through it. Despite the hurt and the pain.
I made it through marching band, and even started enjoying it right at the end. I made some friends that I still have to this day and I'm so glad that I did.
We stayed at Liberty, and I joined the high school chior called Chi Alpha. The week after school let out, we went on tour in New Orleans. Sometime I'll write some about it. It was incredible.
On the 24th of June, we had our homecoming concert. It was a very hard day for me, since it was exactly a year since we had left Ohio.
And you know what?
I could have been sitting at home completely alone, crying on my bed.
But I wasn't
Instead, I was with all of my friends, celebrating life in Christ, and worshipping Him like there was no tomorrow.
I'd say that's a pretty good substitute, wouldn't you? :)
Love, Bridget Colleen <3
