By Cinda Osterman as told to Staci Schefka
When I think about my childhood, family closeness is the first thing that comes to my mind. Together we went on camping trips and vacations, and on warm summer evenings, neighborhood children swarmed to our front yard to join our family in games. My parents were the pillars of our home, and I loved them dearly.
Father taught us strength of character, yet showed a gentleness that spoke of his genuine love for us all. As a little girl, I admired my dad. He was the “apple of my eye.” Mother always disciplined us children with much patience. She placed in our hearts love and honor for our father and each other.
As I entered adolescence, I began asking myself many questions. Am I a little girl or a young lady? How am I to act? How am I to relate to my parents? Unfortunately, I never thought to talk to my parents about these insecurities.
About this time our family moved to a university town. Being a diligent student, I looked forward to my first day of high school. I wondered who my new friends would be. I soon realized that the students at our school fit into only four groups: the jocks (the athletes), the ropers (the cowboys), the Christians, and the dopers (the party people). I didn’t fit into the first three groups. The dopers, though, accepted my outgoing personality. At first I refused to join them in their wild lifestyle, but my longing for their friendship soon led me to give in. I thought that my new friends could help me find answers to my insecurities; but they were insecure as well.
As I associated with the “dopers,” their rebellious attitudes influenced me. It was not “cool” to respect those in authority, especially parents. No longer did I desire family closeness. Instead I “hung out” with my party friends. Peer pressure had conquered the family love I had always cherished.
Rose Beamer, a sweet Christian classmate, entered the wild scene of my life, helping me by her friendship. She invited me to a Christian youth meeting called Young Life. The energetic group met to sing songs, study the Bible, and do fun things together. I enjoyed the evening so much that I kept attending. For some time, I lived a double life between the peaceful satisfaction I received at Young Life and the empty whirl of merriment with my party friends. At age 16, though, I no longer desired my artificial life. A young man from the youth group helped me to accept Christ into my life. Peace and joy thrilled my heart!
But my newfound peace was short-lived. Because I had never dealt with my rebellion, I soon found myself the prime target for a group of bikers. In my teenage eyes, being a “motorcycle mama” had to be the epitome of rebellion. I felt drawn to one young man who I thought could be easily won to Christ. During the next three years, that painful mistake lacerated my heart. Not until I was nearly killed did I seek help.
Although my decision to join the bikers had pierced their hearts, my parents reached out to rescue me when I needed them most. One night soon after they had brought me home, I felt overwhelmed by depression. My dad sat in front of me and looked into my eyes. I will never forget his words: “Cinda, if you want to go back to that abusive situation, you may; but if you want to stay, I’ll help you.” Those words spoke such love to me. I reasoned for a moment. To go back meant more pain, but I had a choice, which my father respected. His love won my heart. I would stay and seek a new life.
I longed for the peace those Young Life meetings had brought me in my high school years. Could God’s love be like my father’s outstretched arms? If so, I wanted to experience it! My older brother, who had recently become a Seventh-day Adventist, shared with me how to come back to God. My journey had begun.
My father’s love had brought me home, but now I longed for heavenly peace. Could God’s love be like my father’s outstretched arms?
While on a school work program, I met my future husband, Ron. Sharing a similar desire to know the Lord, we attended different churches and studied the Bible. In a letter from my sister-in-law, we learned that the seventh day of the week is the Sabbath—the day we are to worship the Creator. After our wedding, we found a Seventh-day Adventist church and attended. The following week the pastor came to our home and invited us to an evangelistic crusade. The Bible truths we learned there made our hearts overflow with joy. I had finally found the source of unfailing love in the Savior who could fulfill every need. Now I was truly home.
During my first pregnancy, the wounds of my soul continued to heal. I feared my baby would suffer the consequences of my past drug-filled life. One Sabbath morning in church, my heart was especially burdened. Comfort came in the words of a Bible verse. “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” Isa. 1:18. I felt assured that my baby would be born in good health. God honored my faith by giving me a perfect baby girl. With gratitude I dedicated my infant to God’s service.
I later gave birth to another baby girl, and my two daughters became the focus of my love and training. I devoted 12 years to their education as a homeschooling mother. Once they entered their teens, we felt God’s call for our whole family to minister to churches and schools by presenting seminars on the family and nature. We also dedicated several summers to Young Disciple Youth Bible Camps.
Speaking to youth groups about my testimony and individually appealing to their hearts gives me the greatest sense of fulfillment. In their faces I can see myself and the struggles I faced in my teenage years. I can relate to their attitudes and rebellious feelings and share with them the answers I found through my Christian experience.
Looking back to my teenage years, I see how my wrong choices could have ruined my life. Yet, because God had a plan for me, He put His hand over my life. Now God uses my experience to help others. I am humbled when I think that all along, God had a place reserved for me in His service. “Being confident of this very thing, that He which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.” Phil. 1:6.
Image credit: © Shutterstock.com
Staci Schefka and her husband, Steve, live in Michigan where they are involved in full-time church ministry. Her mother, Cinda, is an educator and founder of Training Gifted Minds, which offers dyslexia/ADHD/ autism correction programs (www.traininggiftedminds.com).