I was born in Oak Park, IL in 1957.  My parents, Phillip and Joy Steinbauer, moved  to Round Lake Beach when I was 18 months old.  Life was pretty normal until on Valentines Day 1966 my father went out walking and was hit by a drunk driver.  Within hours he'd gone home to be with the Lord..
Denise's Testimony
Yet I'll never forget my first big lesson in caring.  I was at the age when I wasn't sure if I should believe in Santa or not, but "just in case" I wrote a "letter to Santa" that first Christmas and told him what had happened.  I said, "Santa, if you are real, please get some toys for my little sisters.  Don't worry about me.  Just don't let them down."  I put my little note in an envelope and put it in the "Santas mailbox" outside our local post office.

Christmas came right on time, but deep in my heart I prayed for God to take care of my little sisters.  On Christmas Eve night, suddenly I heard bells on the front porch of our home and a deep, loud, and jolly "HO HO HO!".  Mom went to the door and opened it up and sure enough, there was Santa with a huge bag of toys and clothes wrapped in pretty paper with pretty bows on top.    My sisters squealed with glee as Santa called their names and handed them gift after gift.  I stood back grateful that Santa did read my letter and he did come to my sisters.  I have to admit that I felt a little sad at the point that I didn't get bold enough to ask for something for me too, but as Santa reached the bottom of his sack, he looked at the present he pulled out and called me name.  "Denise," he said.  "That letter you wrote me showed a true act of unselfishness.  How could I forget you? Here honey, this one is for you.  God bless you sweetie."   I'm sure he pulled out more for me, but by then I'd broken out in tears.  All I wanted was for my sisters not to hurt, but someone else knew I needed some love too.   We all thanked him (prompted by mom in the excitement), but by the time we had finished....Santa was gone.

Well, that's not the end of the surprise, for what happened next made even mom second guess about Santas reality for a moment or two.   Again we heard bells and a new voice shouting, "HO HO HO".  Had Santa returned?...did he forget something?..someone?   Well in such a short time, Santa got taller and thinner (as some of this story was told to us by mom), and the voice not quite as deep.  However, he came back with .....MORE???????.....Boxes of food and more toys and even something for my mom and grandma came this time.  It seems more than just "Santa" knew about our family and didn't know about our earlier visit.  It seemed that Christmas there was a lot of love and plenty of tears to go around.....
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Mom took it pretty hard and quickly developed physical conditions, including a heart condition.  As the oldest of three kids, all girls, I had to take over and help my grandmother take care of my younger sisters.  Mom had trouble getting Dad's life insurance because she had to prove the drunk  was at fault.  There was little time for playing around.  This was the beginning of growing through hardships, including, struggling for food and clothes day after day.
I grew up always going to church, always being read Christian stories to, always hearing someone whistle or sing a catchy spiritual tune.  The day I received Jesus’ in my heart as my Lord happened when some missionaries visited us at AWANAs.  I remember them talking with us and telling us how great it was to spread God's word to those who never heard before...but soon their voice quieted and their face grew serious as they told us why it made such a difference to tell others about Jesus.  It was then that I heard for the first time, the depth of what Christ endured for me.  As they explained His every moment of those last hours, I KNEW that this was it....I had to give myself to him.

Accepting Jesus isn't were it all stops, but where it begins because now came the time of my growing. Because of not having the "male" figure in our house, I looked to relationships, and not Jesus to fill the void. They all ended in disaster, and I became sure that even God didn’t want me.
It was a vicious cycle and soon "fell in love" with someone that I was sure I wanted to marry....and I did.
If you can't see God's hand, trust his heart!
Don't always look for a blessing...be one.....