– Staring At My Shoes –

shoe-carnival-5“Okay, the doors now shut. I’m home. I’m pregnant. Now what,” I, the most nervous nineteen year old in the world, asked myself. I walked into my home, having found out a few hours before that I was pregnant. There I was, facing the fact I had to tell  my parents.

What made it the hardest reason to tell them, or really anyone, was because the year before I shared with them how God had graciously called me one of His chosen; a Christian. But it’s one of those situations where I was then the only one in that home who even understood what that was all about. Don’t get me wrong. My family didn’t shrug me away when I told them I was a newly saved follower of Christ. Far from it. I just felt I had to be a bit on guard in what ever I said or did in that home that year. Needing to tell them I messed up and was pregnant was obviously something I didn’t look forward doing.

Now standing inside, having just prayed outside that door before coming in, I continued wondering what to do as I started hearing my parents talking in the kitchen down the hall.

Should I tell them now or wait? I should just get it over with. Okay. I can do this. I hear them in the kitchen. I guess I’ll just walk down the hall and tell them.

A few steps I went, but the stairs up to my room right there were sure tempting.

wooden-exterior-stairs

Stay to the right, go to the kitchen, and tell Mom and Dad. But no, my nervousness won and I went to the left and started walking up.

Half way up I stopped. NO! Just tell them. TELL them. I then turned around and went back down. Slowly I took a sharp left, went a few more steps and there I was.  The shoes I had on I can picture because, as I walked in I was looking down, staring at those shoes. If I didn’t have that comfort inside of knowing God’s Fatherly arm was over my shoulder as I walked in, I don’t know how I could have survived the shame I felt.

 

Now sure, I’d love to get into detail about what happened in that kitchen, but that is all shared in my book. I will say, however, that I began loving my parents and siblings even more after they learned what I was now facing. Being as I was not the only one of my siblings this had happened to, mind you, explains why my parents weren’t ignorant to this type ordeal. However, my family responded as if I was the only one on earth they cared for and loved. And on that day, I sure needed that.

To be continued.

Click HERE  to read how this entire story began.

Marianne Petersen’s book God and Your Pillow is now available. (Amazon) – You can follow Marianne on Twitter at @marimemoirs and read more on her blog, marimemoirs.com.

Staring At My Shoes

5 thoughts on “Staring At My Shoes

  1. Pingback: The Hardest Phone Call to Make (Part 1) | Marianne's Memoirs

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  3. Pingback: Blessings of My Unplanned Pregnancy Unwrapped (Part 2) | Marianne's Memoirs

  4. Pingback: The Word ‘Thankful’ All folded Up – part 1 | Marianne's Memoirs

  5. Pingback: The Word ‘Thankful’ All Folded UP – part 1 | Marianne's Memoirs

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