Like a Stone Wall

When I moved in with Uncle Ranny, Aunt Kathy and Mary, I began a season of stability in my life I hadn't experienced since elementary school.  I completed my high school career at Stonewall Jackson High School.  My weeks were punctuated by midweek youth group experiences that served as an oasis of relief between Sundays.  Although I knew little of what it meant to be a Christian, I found a sense of peace and joy being in the presence of God and His people.  That isn't to say there weren't times I felt totally out of place.  People would often refer to "familiar" bible stories in conversation and I would have no idea what they were talking about.  I had no idea what David had to do with Goliath, why Jonah was in a fish, or why God was interested in talking donkeys.  But I played along and learned as I went.

I'd love to say I was Mr. Popularity in my new school environment.  But as a late-blooming 14 year old in the 10th grade, that would be far from the truth.  I didn't have any great attractiveness or talents that drew others to me, and I was not very socially adept.  My emotional maturity had stalled somewhere around eleven or twelve years old, and I am grateful that some people were kind to me despite my selfishness.  I don't remember much about finishing my sophomore year.  But that summer was another summer that brought significant life change.  That was the summer when I experienced one of the greatest joys on earth for the first time -- Christian camp.

Tri-State Christian Camp sits nestled in the northwestern corner of Virginia.  God used this setting to call me from merely accepting Christ as Savior to accepting him as Lord.  David Lucas & the Watchman quartet were there for the week.  God spoke a message through David in which he explained that God has called us to be Salt, Servants, and Sacrifice.  Something about the message at vespers that Wednesday night left me thunderstruck.  I spent the evening talking with God while the other students were continuing with evening activities.  That night at campfire when the invitation was offered, I offered myself to serve the Lord full-time in ministry.  One other person came forward that night, but I don't recall their decision.  I'm grateful I didn't wait until the following night when 44 students responded.  Had I responded then, I would question whether my judgement was influenced by the decisions of others.

Now that I'd made this life-changing decision, I needed to figure out what it meant.  When I returned home, I remember being depressed and lonely.  I had gone from being around dozens of Christian peers to being by myself at home on Lake Jackson.  I spent most of the rest of the summer fishing, and grew to be fairly decent at it, though I was never quite as good as my best friend Scott or Uncle Ranny, who had become Dad.  Scott and Mark and I were the three amigos.  We were about the same age, part of the same youth group, and we all enjoyed fishing and one another's company.  My friendship with Scott endures from a distance to today, but we were grieved to learn of Mark's suicide a number of years ago.

The longer I lived with Uncle Ranny and Aunt Kathy, the more clear it was to me that they were the parents I'd never had two of before.  I was never sure before what it would feel like to have a Mom & Dad, and I finally felt I was getting to experience it.  They got legal custody of me, and began pursuing adoption.  It may seem odd to think of adopting a junior in High School, but it meant a lot to me that they actually wanted to be my parents, since it seemed so many others had bailed on the task.  My biological mother was understandably reluctant to give me away a second time, so the adoption process took a long time.  In fact, it wasn't until I graduated from high school that I found out I was legally adopted for a second time.  In all, I was adopted three times:  the first time by the Stetten family, the second time by Christ, and now the third time by the Isenberg's.  One thing that made this seem particularly fitting was knowing that when I was born, they had offered to take me in then.  But at the time both Ranny and Kathy were young (21 & 23), struggling, and they already had two kids.  My life had come full circle and I was back home where I might have started.

My junior year memories include pleasant memories of riding with Mary each day to school.  We would stop at 7-11 to pick up snacks or play Ms. Pac Man.  Although I think it was difficult for her to suddenly have a younger brother, for the most part she handled it well.  We are nine months apart in age, but were in the same grade together.  Thankfully, our classes were mostly different and our social circles overlapped very little.  This likely helped her life feel a bit less cramped by my presence.  As time went on, the relationship between Mom and Dad became more tense.  There was trouble in my new paradise.  It still seemed more stable that most of my life experiences, but it shook my sense of stability

The summer between junior & senior year I returned to camp where Jay Banks led the group Son's Up.  They produced music that seemed much more fun and alive than the typical hymns I was accustomed to at Antioch Church of Christ where I attended on a weekly basis.  Since they were based out of Roanoke Bible College, they played a huge role in my decision to go to college there the following fall.  I wanted to get an education from a place where they were able to combine knowing more about Jesus with humor, music, and relevance.  I never dreamed at the time that one day I would be part of Son's Up myself.

My senior year I spent very little time in school.  I only went for the first four periods, and by noon I was out.  I grabbed a quick lunch each day and walked to Manassas Mall where I worked from 12:30 - 9:30 five days a week with an hour long break for dinner.  I worked at the Thom McAn shoe store after a short stint with a consumer polling organization called Consumer Pulse.  Working 40 hours a week helped me become more responsible and gave me a nice weekly income.  But looking back now, I regret that I completely squandered my senior year.  I really look back now on that year of my life, and all I remember for the most part is working.  The only exception I can think of is the afternoon Kathy and Mary and I walked in the house and realized that we had been robbed.  While we stood in the kitchen assessing the damage, we heard the robbers downstairs still in our basement!  In shock and horror, we raced out of the house and down the road.  But other than that, my senior year is just a blur.

I was 16 years old when I graduated from Stonewall.  I'm grateful for Mr. Miller's U.S. history class that helped me fall in love with history.  I'm grateful for Mr. Button, my Christian physics teacher.  And I'm thankful for Mrs. Blauvelt, who helped me learn that while you may be able to get by in life without doing your best, that you'll never be satisfied with your own medicrity when you know you could and should have done better.  By the time I graduated, I wasn't very solid personally, but at least I had some positive experiences that had helped me grow in that direction.