17
Wedded Bliss?

I earned my GED just before the birth of our son. After that, my brother encouraged me to enroll in a community college and I did. I took classes at night and worked full-time during the day.

Because of my work for Dad, I already knew as much about the real estate business as most people ever learn. Dad, Mom, Daniel, and I were all in the real estate business. My brother earned his license shortly after his eighteenth birthday. Until I turned eighteen, however, I couldn’t apply for a license. So after my eighteenth birthday, I took the examination and passed without any difficulty. Until then I didn’t have any idea that I was really smart, because most of the people in my life were negative and told me how stupid I was. I believed them.

We moved with my mom to Bay Harbor, a nice, upscale neighborhood. During the first years of their marriage, when my parents had been millionaires, they had owned a mansion in Golden Beach. I was born into a family with money. But after the divorce, my dad took everything. He still had the money, but we didn’t see much of it.

As I often think about it, everything I have in life I had to learn to get all on my own—and with God’s help. At age nineteen, Joel and I bought our first home. I looked into financing and proved that we could pay the mortgage, so the bank gave us a loan.

I enjoyed working in real estate, but ever since I was a kid, I had wanted to be a lawyer, so law school was the obvious next step. I felt I could help other kids; I wanted to be there for them because no one had been there to help me.

About a year after Kipper’s birth, we were living with my mother. Joel wanted us to move to Hialeah, where his family lived. I agreed because it was time for us to move out and be on our own. It hadn’t been a good living arrangement with the three of us living with Mom and my brother in a one-bedroom apartment.

Joel stopped working at Winn-Dixie and found a job with a moving company, which paid better. Later, he began to install garage doors. His mother went back to Colombia, but she couldn’t afford to stay there, so we paid for her to come back to Florida. In return, she would take care of our son while I worked.

That was a big mistake.

There always seemed to be conflict between Joel and me. I don’t want to lay all the blame on him. Neither of us came from healthy backgrounds, so it was probably inevitable. When our son was only two years old, Joel and I separated because of what I called his intense jealousy. “You never want me to be free to do things on my own,” I said, not realizing that in his culture wives were submissive to their husbands.

We finally reconciled and, to Joel’s credit, he let me go out with my friends—friends from my old life. Those old friends tried pulling me back into their lifestyle of drinking and smoking pot. I resisted, but they pleaded, “Come out on the weekends. You work hard all week.”

As a result of my so-called freedom, Joel and I fought over little things that often grew into big things.

Old friends from middle school kept pulling me back and telling me I was missing the fun in life. They insisted I was too young to be tied down, and I agreed with them. Outside of our church, they were the only friends I had. But the best thing was that I could always be myself around them.

Joel and I came from different cultures. I was an American and so were my friends. His friends spoke only Spanish. His mother knew almost no English and didn’t try to learn. Because she took care of my son all day and didn’t speak any English, naturally she taught him to speak only in Spanish. I was resentful because at times I couldn’t communicate with him.

Whenever I went to see Joel’s family, the tension was terrible and, whether it was intentional or not, I always felt left out of their conversation. I had stopped smoking before my son was born, but I took it up again as well as drinking and cursing. I felt so bad about my life that I didn’t care what they thought of me.

The situation worsened. His mother moved in with us, and she took over our house. She rearranged the furniture and brought in their Colombian friends. On almost any night, we’d have several people sleeping in our home, eating our food, and using our laundry facilities. Joel’s sister brought her son over for free babysitting, but by now we were paying his mother to take care of our son.

At first I was the timid, submissive wife. I didn’t say anything, but the resentment built. One day I exploded and yelled at his mother and sister. “You need to leave! You have to get out of my house!”

When Joel came home from work, he angrily shouted at me, “You did that to my mother and my sister?” In his Latin culture, if I disrespected his parents, I brought shame on him. “I’m embarrassed,” he said repeatedly. “I can’t believe what you did.”

“I won’t take this anymore,” I said, and meant it.

“Then leave the house. Get out, Kat!”

That was the end of the argument. I took my son and left. I went back to live with my mother.

After I left Joel, I decided to get a divorce, even though I didn’t want one and didn’t feel it was right. The main reason I gave in to the pressure to marry him was to have a father for our son, and I hadn’t wanted my son to grow up in a single-parent home.

While separated, I went out drinking with my friends and got really drunk one night, and it made me sick. I suffered from a terrible hangover—worse than anything I’d ever had. My mom encouraged me to go back home to Joel and, sick as I was, I called him. He let me come home.

Joel was very nice to me, didn’t fight with me, and took care of me until I was better. Maybe, I thought, we could make this marriage work. The following Sunday we went to church and heard a message on marriage and reconciliation. I went forward, and this time Joel went with me. Both of us rededicated our lives and our family to the Lord. In 1991, Joel and I were baptized in that church.

After that, Joel spoke to his mother and set boundaries. She moved out and went to live with his sister. Her move didn’t resolve all the issues, and he still spent a lot of time with them, but life was better—for a while. Both women still had a lot of influence over him, and that may have been part of his culture.

After rededicating my life to God, I enrolled as a student at Trinity International University in Davie, Florida. Before long, I also started working there. The job came about because on one of their radio programs, they spoke about jobs at the university. I called the station to see if they had any jobs I could apply for. I wanted to get a better job, and it would be an opportunity to get away from my controlling father.

The radio host sent me to talk to Bee Justamante, who was friendly and warm, and after a single interview, she hired me. I later got to know a godly man and father figure, Dr. Stefan Tchividjian, who also worked there. His was the radio voice that had sent me to Trinity. Later I learned that Dr. Tchividjian was Billy Graham’s son-in-law.

I was grateful to God. By then I was twenty-four years old, working and going to school in a Christian environment—so different from anything I’d known before. At first I coordinated classes for Excel, which is an accelerated degree program, and then I went to work for the development department where I got to know Dr. T (as we affectionately called him).

One day I spoke with Dr. T’s wife, Gigi Tchividjian, who was Billy Graham’s daughter. On the phone I clearly sensed the presence of God in her voice, especially when she told me about raising her large family. I smiled as I thought about the influence of the Graham family in my life.

My job at Trinity University included coordinating the manuals and classes for the adult education program. The development department promoted me to assistant to the director, where I coordinated Christian women’s events and fund-raiser dinners. That gave me the opportunity to meet many well-known Christians, such as Dr. Tony Evans, Pastor Steve Brown, Luis Palau, Evelyn Christiansen, and other famous authors and speakers.

After that, I moved over to Trinity’s radio station, WMCU, and I helped set up their big events. I met many influential people who really took the time to pour their interest into my life.

Steve James ran the radio station, and he told me about his church in Fort Lauderdale. In 1996, when our church went through a split, Joel and I decided to visit Steve’s church. We liked it and became regular attendees there.

Educationally, the difference between Joel and me widened. I had passed my GED and gone on to college, but Joel had never graduated from high school. I kept advancing, and because of my good grades in college, I received scholarships and awards for my accomplishments.

My acceptance by the Christian community increased and my self-esteem grew. I made top grades, which surprised me because I hadn’t been a good student as a kid. “Who would have known I would do well in school when I wasn’t forced to go?” I told my mom.

The new me—the real me—was beginning to emerge. While I was still an undergraduate student, I met Diane Johnson, a professor at Trinity. She was a wonderful example to me of a godly woman, and she discipled me and taught me many things. And in 1995, when our second child was born, we named her Diana, in honor of Diane. That same year I graduated cum laude (with honors) from Trinity International University with a Bachelor of Arts degree in Human Resources Management. I was the first one in my family to receive a college degree.

Because I had earned my bachelor’s degree, I could take the next step in my desire to help others. I still wanted to go to law school; however, that didn’t happen right away. Instead, I resigned my position at the radio station in 1997 to become a stay-at-home mother. The major reason I quit was because the pastor of our church regularly preached against mothers working. “You don’t want your kid raised in day care,” was one of his regular messages. I felt all right about staying at home to raise my children in the Lord. But financially it was difficult for us living only on Joel’s income.

I took my dad and Joel’s younger brother, Julian, to a play called Heaven’s Gates and Hell’s Flames. They both went forward and received Christ. To finally see my father turn to Jesus Christ was one of the happiest moments of my life.

Mom had been influential in my dad’s turning to God because she stayed in his life and was a consistent example of God’s love in spite of all the years of abuse. Even though they were divorced, when Dad became seriously ill, Mom went to live with him and take care of him. It was through her consistent love and our prayers that my father’s heart and life finally turned toward Christ, and he was ready to make a public confession when I took him to the play.

One day I felt convicted to tell Julian, “You’re staying out every night until eleven or twelve o’clock, and that is a terrible example to Kipper.” He had been living with us for nearly five years. He didn’t seem to want to change, so I finally said, “It’s time for you to find another place to live.”

I knew Joel wouldn’t tell Julian that, because he felt responsible for him. I was most upset because Julian went to his stepsister’s house every weekend. The woman was a lesbian, and her girlfriend was involved in Santeria, a religion that is a mixture of African and Caribbean witchcraft and Roman Catholicism. Each time Julian spent time with them, he came back antagonistic and argumentative because the other woman was jealous of Julian’s relationship to his sister.

Joel and I prayed regularly for all three of them. Finally, the other woman demanded that the sister choose between her and Julian. The sister chose Julian and her relationship with the other woman ended.

A few weeks after that, Julian’s sister came to our house. “I know you’ve been praying for me. Thank you,” she said. “I’m not in that lifestyle anymore.” Not long after that, she met a man online, they fell in love, and they were married.

Seeing God use that was a huge encouragement, even though my husband had become angry when I told his brother to leave. Although I knew it had been the right thing to do, it caused a lot of friction between Joel and me.

After Julian moved out, there were only four of us—Joel, me, and our two children. By then Kipper had started school and I was home with our baby daughter. One day God spoke to me about helping Joel start his own business. It seemed so obvious, I wondered why I hadn’t done that earlier. That day I had what I can only describe as a vision. Inside my head I saw Joel as a boss with other men working for him. I knew it was from God and that it would happen. I had faith that God could do anything.

I prayed fervently for guidance. Joel was good with his hands and liked working with a friend installing garage doors. Joel caught on quickly and was very good at his work.

I continued to pray daily for guidance because I wanted to be sure I had heard from the Lord. After a few more days, I thought that with the skills Joel had developed it seemed natural for him to start his own garage door business.

I decided to tell Joel what God had impressed on my heart. “God is telling me that I need to help you start your own business.”

“We can’t do that. I wouldn’t have a regular paycheck.” He had never done anything so risky, and I understood his resistance. I also knew that with God’s help, we could do it.

“It will work. And I’m going to help you get those accounts.” I told him that I had been praying and what God had shown me. “I’m going to help you set it up, and I’ll also help you get accounts with major companies. You’ll become a boss and have workers under you.”

I sensed he was scared that he wouldn’t make enough money to provide for us. I understood his feelings. I also had faith that what God had said, God would do.

We started the business. I kept the books and taught Joel how to attract customers. Our next step was to attract big accounts. I went to Home Depot and asked them to list us as one of their subcontractors. They gave me forms, which I took home, filled out, and brought back.

The manager read the forms, shook his head, and said, “We’ve never had anyone do an application so well. Even though you’ve only been in business for two months, we’re going to give you this contract. Usually we don’t do that for anyone who has been in business less than two years.”

That happened in 1999; Joel still has his subcontractor account with Home Depot.