As I said in Part 1, when I was 10 years old I committed my life to God’s Lordship privately. My Mom suspected and began questioning me after a few weeks because she felt she’d noticed a change in me. When I owned up to it, she asked if I wanted to begin wearing a covering, and I told her “yes”.
Although it’s been many years ago, I still remember wearing a covering my mom rustled up for me the next morning to Sunday church. Since the mesh cap style coverings that were worn in that church were intended to be fitted to each person’s head, amount of hair, and style of putting up the hair, my look was not very put together since it was my Mom’s. One of my peers who was just a year younger than I saw me walking down the hall between SS and church and gave me a horrible nasty scowl. She did not cover and I don’t know to this day if the scowl had to do with the covering itself or the ill-fit! Needless to say, it was a crisp and sharp reminder to me (as if I needed any after the experience my Mom had) that adopting this new piece of my life was going to mark me and change how people viewed me.
The next day I was taken to the little apartmenet of the single woman who officially made most of the veilings for the community. My measurements were taken, and she soon had several new, crisp coverings that were made to my own specifications.
My Mom hardly had any hair, and she had little clue what to do with my (then) luxurious tresses in order to get them to fit up under a covering. No matter what she did, my hair would fall down embarassingly during school recesses. She quickly gave up on trying to keep my hair up, so I would perch my covering that was INTENDED to fit on a bun (!) on top of my hair with a pony tail low down . . . and off I would go. When I think back to how that looked . . . OY! Not a nice thing. I’m honestly surprised that it was even allowed culture wise.
(As a side note, we attended a camp meeting that late summer and there were two girls there who were about my age–they had their hair attractively done in braid loops–with small, properly fitting coverings that took into account the fact that their hair was not done up in a normal bun! They looked neat, and well put together, and I have to admit that there was a bit of a pang in my own childish heart . . . )
When I was 12, one of the girls who was a few years older than I, kindly gave me a metal barette and started teaching me how to put up my own hair . . . Up until about 2 years ago when that same barette broke, I was still using it to put up my hair each day! Around 25 years later! How’s that for a practical gift?! Once I could master putting up my own hair, I was good to go.
At age 13, I had an experience that cemented to me the possible out-working of one the verses in 1Cor. 11–the part about the angels.
A friend of mine who was 2 years older than I was was spending several days with me, and we decided to take my family’s horse, Justin, and go for a ride. We were double riding –and having the time of our lives over the grassy fields of an old reclaimed coal mine that was part of our property. Justin began acting a bit balky and skittish, and since I was the one riding on the rear, I slid off to lead him a few minutes to see if he calmed down.
As I was walking, leading Justin, with my friend, V. riding, my ears suddenly alerted me to the possible cause for Justin’s spooked behavior. I heard the putter of a motor, and a white, open topped Jeep that I’d never seen before came purring up the hill and drove past us. A quick glance confirmed that there were two, hulking young men in the vehicle, and as they stared hard at us as they went past, and then braked to a stop and *backed up* just parallel to us. The man driving shut the motor *off* and got out and walked around the jeep towards us. The man sitting in the passenger’s side swiveled and hung his legs out of the vehicle.
As the man advanced towards me with out a word where I stood at the horse’s head, I began to move backwards. He kept coming towards me–still not a word from either of them. I still distinctly remember my feelings of terror and “this is not good–what am I going to do?!!” as I kept backing up. I had backed clear around the horse’s head from the left, to the right, and then slowly clear along the flank of the horse and was clear to his rear haunch, where I finally stopped.
Even in my state of terror, my brain was working clearly and sharply, and I knew that to go backing around the horse’s haunches was asking for a swift kick that could maim or kill me–and so I was frantically thinking, “WHAT can I do to get away from this guy?!” I knew that there was no way to get up on to the horse’s large haunches quickly, plus as the guy kept backing me up I had to drop the horses’s reins to get away from him, and I wasn’t sure my friend was experienced enough with horse riding to do anything about quickly grabbing them and getting the horse going even if I did manage to get on before the man grabbed me.
And . . I could see the guy in the jeep sitting coiled and poised to leap out, so I knew we had no chance against these two. We were far enough away from the house that we had no hope except GOD. None. Zero. Zilch.
As I finally took my stand there in the summer sunshine by the horse’s haunch and looked up at the guy towering over me with his shadow falling over me, and the hum and whirr of the grasshoppers and other summer bugs making the only noise, I could only wordlessly cry out to God for His protection over us. I felt the evil–and it was strong and very present.
And then, Mr. Silent spoke. And what came out was astonishing. And clearly made up on the spot. Something vague about if we knew how to get in touch with the people who owned property. I asked him crisply, “Which property?” and he vaguely waved his hand around. “Who?” and he muttered some name that I knew was not the name of ANYONE who owned property in the area adjoining to ours. I crisply told him I didn’t know of anyone by that name, nor how to get in touch with them, and without another word, he began backing slowly up while still staring hard at us, and went back to the Jeep. He and the other guy conversed quietly for a bit while continuing to stare at us, and then drove off.
My friend and I were so shaken that I could barely get back on to the horse but I managed and we high tailed it for the house as quickly as we could, where we spent the rest of the day. We both agreed that the sense of evil and danger we had both felt couldn’t have been imagined, and that God had protected us in a mighty way.
Did our covered heads and modest clothing have any thing to do with stopping the evil that even as an adult woman I still believe these men were contemplating? I don’t know. But I think it did. And that incident always has impressed me that God can and does protect us when we are living in obedience. Do I think we are guaranteed some miraculous protection and that no evil will ever befall us?? No. I don’t think so–evil happens and God doesn’t always choose to protect us from it. But I know my story is not the first one I have heard of women who were covered who seemed to experience some divine intervention and protection from evil.
In fact, while the story I am about to relate didn’t happen to me personally, I know the women who it happened to personally, and again, it happened very close to where my own story happened. A number of years before we moved into the Kentucky hills, this lady and her family lived close to where we eventually settled, in a house not far from the house I grew up in. One night they had a home invasion by some of the local hoodlums. Both this girl and a single girl who was boarding in the home were attacked by these men, with obvious intentions of physically and sexually assaulting them. The first thing the evil men did?? Try to grab their coverings from their heads . . . in a miraculous and God-way, they were both saved (partially by a neighbor lady who was a local showing up with a gun when she heard all the screaming and commotion!) from rape. But that was always interesting to me–that with evil, hell-bound men, the first item that they wanted to go was the covering.