Patsy Clairmont - I Grew Up Little: Finding Hope in a Big God

I Grew Up Little

2004 by Patsy Clairmont

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any other meanselectronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any otherexcept for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published in Nashville, Tennessee, by Thomas Nelson. Thomas Nelson is a registered trademark of Thomas Nelson, Inc.

All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise indicated, are taken from The Message (MSG) by Eugene H. Peterson, copyright 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group. All rights reserved.

Other Scripture references are from the following sources:

The New King James Version (NKJV) 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc.

The King James Version (KJV) and The Holy Bible, New International Version (NIV) 1973, 1978, 1984, by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan Bible Publishers.

Cataloging-in-Congress Publication Data

Clairmont, Patsy.

I grew up little : finding hope in a big God / Patsy Clairmont.

p. cm.

ISBN 0-8499-1810-3 (hardcover)

1. Clairmont, Patsy. 2. Christian biographyUnited States. I. Title.

BR1725.C475A3 2004

277.3'082'092dc22 2003020222

CIP

Printed in the United States of America

05 06 07 08 09 QW 11 10 9 8 7 6 5

To Jesus for redeeming me,
To my family for enduring me,
To my grandsons, Justin and Noah, for renewing me.

Hope is a thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words

And never stops at all.

EMILY DICKINSON

Contents

Foreword

I SAT IN THE FRONT ROW of the auditorium holding the program of the evenings events and saw that I went on after the book reviews. Why do they always feel led to have book reviews at each of these womens retreats? I mused. They are always so boring. I looked up at the ladies sitting in a dignified row on the platform. Which one is going to do the reviews? I wondered.

In the midst of these important leaders sat a little lady. She was in a plain cotton dress and flat shoes. She wore no make-up and looked out of place in this group. At that point the chairman announced Patsy Clairmont will now give us the book reviews.

Up jumped this little person, bounced to the lectern where she barely peered over the top. As she moved to the side where we could see her, it was as though lights went on. Make-up wasnt needed as her face took on an energy of its own. She was hilarious! Id never seen such an instant transformation before, and I approached her afterwards and invited her to come to the first CLASS I had prepared. You have such amazing potential, I said. Have you ever thought of becoming a speaker? She gave me several reasons why she couldnt do this, but I invited her to join the group that included several Hollywood personalities.

The rest is history as the potential exploded into reality. She was a quick learner and she ate up the instruction as a hungry child. I feel today that if I had done nothing more than light Patsys fire, it would have been enough.

FLORENCE LITTAUER

Founder, The CLASSeminar

Speaker, Author of Silver Boxes and Personality Plus

Want Ad

JOB WANTED: Woman seeking inspirational speaking and writing opportunities. QUALIFICATIONS: High school dropout, teenage runaway, and agoraphobic.

W OULD YOU HIRE THIS WOMAN? Me either! Which is what makes my story one of hope: I was hired. Oh, not right away, of course. It took a gazillion years to move past my phobias, hang-ups, and shortcomings, and the path did plenty of zigging and zagging. But the end of the story is a happy one. Not a perfect one, but a perfectly good one.

When I was about twenty years old, I was knee-deep in emotional instability. By the time the calendar had flipped over twenty-three times, I was drowning. An addict to nicotine, caffeine, and tranquilizers, even I had to confess that my neurotic lifestyle held nothing inspirational. Add to that my obsessive fears, my repressed anger, and my unrelenting guilt, and I was unemployable in any market. As a full-blown agoraphobic (unable to leave home), I clung to the walls of my house, longing for security while smothering those I most loved with my neediness.

So how does one go from housebound to footloose and Jesus free? Folks often ask how I broke out of my prison of fears to now stand before thousands in arenas throughout the nation proclaiming a message of liberty. I can tell you it wasnt easy, quick, or without painful effort. Yet because of the hope of the Lord that flooded into my heart again and again, I took scary steps toward my recovery.

I know, I know, you thought I was going to say I became ensnared in my insecurities, then I met Jesus, and he set me free. Actually, I was a Christian throughout those troubled years, which made the mess my life was in all the more confusing for me. I couldnt figure out why God just didnt fix me. But the Lord didnt plan to stay up late one night and slipstitch my fractured parts back together. Instead, he began a holy procedure of deep, inner repair that required my involvement. It would take me years to sort out Gods part and my part in the healing process. Eventually, I came to realize that God isnt a fixer, he is a redeemer. The lost are found, the blind see, the sick are healed, and the lame walk again, but each redemption requires the willingness of the redeemed to be reclaimed.

I was lost in an emotional thundercloud; I was blind to any path that might lead me out of my despair; I was mentally muddled, and my faltering walk was one of obvious dysfunction. In the following chapters, I will introduce you to the people who encircled my life, then lead you into my despairing years and, finally, out into the daylight of Gods irrepressible hope.

While I wouldnt have given the woman who wrote the want ad a whit of a chance of survivingnor did few othersthe Lord took delight in providing for and eventually using her in unexpected ways.

In my journey Ive learned that hope was not, as I had feared, hidden away on some other planet. For hope may arrive in a song, a phone call, an apology, a vision, a promise, a sunset, or a new day. Hope, my friends, is just a breath away.

May you find in these pages a sense that If God would do that for her, theres hope for me, because God is big, even if we are little.

Oh! May the God of green hope fill you up with joy, fill you up with peace, so that your believing lives, filled with the life-giving energy of the Holy Spirit, will brim over with hope! (Romans 15:13).

Hope is just a breath away.

Rebecca of Rosecreek

I GREW UP LITTLE. That shouldnt have been a surprise since my moms four-foot-ten-inch stature loomed over me throughout my life. Oh, I grew to be taller than sheIm a full five feetbut Mom was a force to be reckoned with. She was a giant in her faith, which helped moderate the tyrant in her temperament. Mom, a tiny bundle of fireworks, exploded over her family landscape and left a dazzling impact.