Here we go….
To say that I’ve had a crazy hard life would be an understatement. While I acknowledge that my life could have been much worse and there are many that have had it harder, it did not seem to be that way for me at the time. I was not equipped with the necessary faith I have now in my Lord Jesus Christ and thanks to my Lord and Savior I can come through it all and let the experiences I have gone through help me grow my faith and my relationship with my heavenly Father. I was not taught to love anyone or how to love myself. Instead, I was taught destruction.
I was born in May of 1981. I have 2 older brothers who are a year apart and a sister a year younger than I am. My early childhood memories with my birth parents consist of drugs, alcohol, sex, and neglect. My birth mother was a drug addict and alcoholic. It wasn’t uncommon to see her passed out naked in bed or witnessing her having sex in front of us with many random men that were not her husband. By the time I was three I knew all too well what sex was and the younger of my two brothers and I playing house, started acting it out together. We had our clothes on. Just acted it out, but we didn’t realize that wasn’t a normal way for kids to play house.
I don’t have a lot of memories of the man I called my father. I would later find out that he wasn’t. My mother and he had divorced when I was 3. I do remember he came over every weekend and made biscuits and gravy for us. I always looked forward to Sundays when I knew he would be there to cook for us. I don’t recall if they really tasted good or if it was the fact that his biscuits and gravy was pretty much the only food we ate.
My mother had gotten bad at this point and had put a chain and padlock on the fridge because she thought we were going to drink her beer and eat her food. I remember getting so hungry that I ate the cat’s food because I had nothing else to eat.
When I was about 4, my birth mother started dating a very abusive man who put her in the hospital at least once that I know of. This didn’t deter her from him in any way. If anything, she was drawn to him more. They partied all the time leaving us kids to fend for ourselves. I remember being so cold that we set our coats on fire in the living room floor because we were so young all we knew was fire created heat. If it wasn’t for the neighbor, we would have burnt the house down with us in it.
When I was 5, the boyfriend decided he didn’t want us around and told my birth mother he didn’t want kids, so she had to choose. The next thing I know we were being dropped off at our aunt and uncles’ houses. My brothers were raised by one set, and my sister and I another. My world was turned upside down.
“For my father and my mother have forsaken me, but the Lord will take me in.” Psalm 27:10 ESV
I saw my birth mother very sporadically over the next year or so with the promise that I would get to go home and live with her again. She was going to straighten her life up and be the mom we needed. I didn’t know at the time she was just filling my head full of lies and broken promises.
When I was 6 my aunt and uncle had enough and sat her and my dad down and told them, this is your daughter, either take her and raise her or let us adopt her because she needs more stability and all this back and forth isn’t healthy for her. I was asked what I wanted, and I said my mom. I want to live with my mom. She was all I wanted. She smiled at me and said okay. You are going to live with me. I was so happy. I was finally getting my mom back. Little did I know that would never happen. Next thing I know instead of picking me up and taking me home, she was signing the adoption papers. Not only is my mom not my mom anymore, but I also now had a new mom and dad. How could my mother not want me? If she couldn’t love me no one could. I felt like there was something wrong with me.
My birth mother continued to stop in from time to time along with my dad, filling my head with false promises and hope. When I was about 9, my dad had passed away. I remember going to his funeral feeling like I wasn’t supposed to cry, after all he wasn’t my dad anymore now that I was adopted. I fought the tears and made myself numb to it. It wasn’t till my adulthood that I finally mourned his death.
A year after his passing, I had finally had enough of my birth mother hurting me and breaking her promises. At the age of 10, her Christmas present from me (because that was the 1st time, I’d seen her in about a year) was a letter from me stating I never wanted to see her again. It was about this time also that I had found out that my dad was in fact not my dad. I asked her who my dad was, and she said honestly honey I couldn’t tell you. He was one of the many she’d been having an affair with. Another lie and another loss.
Over the next year I was trying to get over my decision to not see my birth mother and trying to deal with the emotions of realizing that my dad wasn’t my dad. I was acting out and withdrawing from my adopted parents. I just knew they would leave me too. I told my new mom once; I don’t want your love. I don’t want anyone to love me. At the time all I knew was love was overrated so why would I set myself up to be hurt again. I had accepted that I had a new mom and dad and called them as such. I wanted so much to be loved by them, but I was so afraid to let them.
At the age of 11, my world fell apart again, but this time there would be no escaping it till I was old enough to move out on my own. For 7 ½ years my dad would sexually abuse me. I did turn him in when I was 12. I was placed in foster care for a short period of time. But ultimately the system failed me and didn’t believe me, and I was sent back home with the warning of if I ever caused any more problems and lied like this again, I would be placed in an all-girls juvey till I became of age. Not only did no one believe me, but I couldn’t tell anyone ever again, so I had to live with it as it continued to happen.
About this time my dad started having heart problems which I got blamed for. No one believed he could abuse me like that so in their eyes the stress from my “lies” caused his heart problems. I was told many times by my grandmother that, “He never had any health problems till you told that lie on him.”
My mom and I’s relationship didn’t get any better. Her anger towards me was a normal part of life at this point. She never held back on how she saw me. When she would get mad at me she would call me names such as slut and whore. She would call me a little b**. She would tell me I was just like my birth mother and that I would always be her. She would get mad if I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night because I’d wake her up flushing the toilet. She put my grandmas old portable potty chair in my bedroom. If I had to go to the bathroom at night I had to go in it. I wasn’t allowed to leave my bedroom at all during the night. I felt more alone than ever. I want you to understand that once my birthmother gave me away, I moved into a home where God was talked about and taught. Grandfather was a preacher grew up in church. Dad was a deacon. I knew there was a God and I believed in Him. I had begged for him to save me more times than I can count. For years I would pray that God would save me from this Hell on earth that I was living through. Age 16 abuse still occurring. My prayers had started changing from please make him stop to please let others catch him, let them see what he’s doing to me, to just let it get over quickly to eventually not praying at all.
My dad had introduced alcohol to me when I was around 15. We traveled around setting up at different towns working festivals. While we were on these trips we stayed in a camper. Mom would stay home more after she had my baby sister leaving my biological sister and myself traveling with dad. He had been hiding his drinking for a while from my mom. While we were at these festivals he would make screwdrivers for my younger sister and I. Vodka was his go to drink. I gladly welcomed the alcohol. It helped me to not feel all that I didn’t want to feel any more. It made me numb to the abuse, to every uncomfortable touch. I finally found my escape at the bottom of the bottle.
I started seeking guys attention at this time in my life. It didn’t matter who the guy was or how many I would be seeing at the same time. I didn’t care who I hurt because I was too numb to feel anything. I cheated I lied, and I stole my friends’ boyfriends. A pattern I would later follow in my adult life.
I will say I did have a couple guys I cared for but was too scared to let them close so I destroyed the relationship before it could really get started.
My junior year I started dating a guy that seemed different to me. I allowed him to get close to me. We decided we were going to get married. I thought if I slept with him that we would last forever after all we were each others first and we loved each other. That’s all I had to do to keep him. Afterwards I just felt hollow inside, emptier. I told him I didn’t want to again till we were married because it didn’t feel right. It wasn’t right. He agreed we would wait. That’s not what happened though. He tried to force himself on me. I fought him off and told him to take me home. I broke up with him shortly after.
My mom found out that I had told a friend about what happened. She made me apologize to the guy because again she didn’t believe me. I was a liar again to my family. At this point I’d lost hope again. I was done living this life. I became very depressed. I was better off dead. No one loved me. No one cared. No one would miss me if I was gone. I remember breaking the razor head out of one of my razors, I remember having it in my hand ready to cut. Ready to end it all, I would say I don’t know why I never made that cut to end it all like I wanted, but now I know it was God. I did how ever become a cutter. I found that any time I felt emotional pain, a few cuts on my forearm was all I needed to forget the pain. Physical pain was so much easier to handle. I was also relying on alcohol more and more and started becoming more and more promiscuous.
“Fear not, for I am with you, be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isiah 41:10 ESV
I would wear long sleeves all the time to hide the cuts. No one noticed not even my closest friends at school. Not until my senior year, when a friend of a friend confronted me. I didn’t know him all that well. We had talked a few times but nothing too serious. He noticed me though. He noticed the long sleeves. He pulled me aside and begged me to stop said he would be there to listen if I needed someone. He said he didn’t know why I was cutting myself, but he knew I was and that I wasn’t alone. He would be there to help me.
Wow! I thought. My prince charming found me and was going to rescue me. We started talking more and more and began dating not long after. He became my everything. I fell in love so hard and so fast. Things were so good between us at least to my teenage broken mind.
I graduated high school, got a job and started college. My boyfriend was still in high school, but we continued to see each other as often as we could. He eventually dropped out to spend more time with me. But soon I found he was cheating and broke it off. After a few months, we did end up reuniting with the hope that it won’t happen again. I would be wrong. This time it was I who cheated. Which began a long relationship of betrayal and mistrust.
My prince charming did have another flaw. But that’s ok. I could change that. I loved him after all, and he loved me. He liked to party, and he liked his drugs. But he never got too crazy with it that I saw so it would be ok … I can fix this. I can fix him like he fixed me. I just need to love him enough. Neither of us were fixed, I just failed to see it at the time.
We married right after he turned 18. 2 weeks later I find out I’m pregnant. I was so happy. I can finally have the family I never had growing up. I never stopped to think that I was just repeating the same patterns of my childhood. Drug addicted birth mom – drug addicted husband. Abusive adoptive parents – verbally abusive husband. God wasn’t in the center and wasn’t in our lives to heal they brokenness.
Things quickly took a turn for the worse. He was partying more and more, not coming home for days at a time. We started fighting all the time. It wasn’t long he was asking me for a divorce. I was pregnant and wasn’t giving up without a fight. I suggested a separation and to start dating again to reconnect in the way we did while we were dating. We would meet up and go to movies or whatever. I had asked him to quit drugs for the baby’s sake and he agreed. But that’s when the drinking got worse and then the drug use became a hidden problem, he kept from me. He did move back in with me and continued to lie to me about the drug use.
He began to become very controlling, verbally abusive. He began cheating on me through texts, phone calls and internet messages. We moved to another state thinking that a fresh start was what we needed but things only got worse. Multiple separations. More cheating. Many drunken nights on both our parts. All the while the verbal abuse continued and grew more and more crude.
I would love to say that my drinking had stopped or even had slowed down once I became a mom, but unfortunately that was not the case. If anything, it had increased to the point that I was officially a high functioning alcoholic. I worked full time, went to college full time and even graduated with honors. But I was always looking for an excuse to have a drink no matter the time of day. I just wanted the pain to go away. The alcohol did that for a while but the downside to getting drunk is at some point you sober up and then the pain just comes rushing over you again. It was a vicious cycle that I didn’t know how to end.
I was sitting at home one day when my daughter was almost 2 and I was watching her do something new. Or at least it was new to me. I’d asked her dad did you see what she did. He said she’s been doing that for a while now. I continued to watch her as the words of my mom crept into my head. You’re going to be just like your birthmother. I realized at that moment she was right. I was heading down that path. At that moment she and I were the same but by the grace of God I didn’t have to stay that way. It was hard and didn’t happen overnight, but I decided that I was going to stop.
By the time we hit our 8th anniversary my husband had left me about 6 times one of which was a month after I had miscarried our 2nd child. He said I was too depressed to be around. 2 more times in the next 2 years. I had finally had enough of the other women, the lies, the abuse. At this point I was trying hard to make our marriage work and my drinking was a lot less. My family had become my focus. I was determined to save an already broken marriage. He had promised he loved me, and he’d change but time and time again he proved to me he wouldn’t change. He liked his freedom too much. He just wanted to keep me as a backup plan, so he always had a place to go back to. I can’t say it was all bad, we did have good times too. Our marriage had reached the point where the bad outweighed the good. I finally said enough and asked for a divorce which I would not get for another 4 years because he refused to sign the papers. Last bit of control he had over me.
At the stage of recovery and healing I am in my life now, I realize that while my ex-husband had done many things wrong in our marriage, I cant put the blame all on him. I had my part to play. I broke his trust and hurt him by cheating on him after we moved in together, something he obviously couldn’t get passed even though he thought he could. Just as I couldn’t completely trust him because of his indiscretion while we were dating and the many traumatic events I had already been through in my life. Neither of us were emotionally ready for this kind of relationship.
I had my newfound freedom and had given up on love. The only love I needed was my daughters and I had hers. So, I did what most broken people did when freshly single not looking for attachment of any kind, I went out and I played the game. Dated a few people most didn’t got past 1 date, and some wasn’t even a date It was just one night stand. I didn’t care anymore about anything or anyone but my daughter. I had given in to the lie that I just wasn’t loveable. 2 sets of parents didn’t love me, my husband didn’t, and my daughter only did because she was little and didn’t know any better yet or maybe she did because she had to, I was her mom.
Not long after I had asked for the divorce, I started hanging out with a friend who was also going through a divorce, and let’s just say we were using each other’s company to help each other get over the pain of losing the one we love. At least that’s what we told ourselves truth is misery loves company and we didn’t care about anyone anymore and the comfort we found in each other was just another way to hide the pain and forget about it.
One day while at his house, my high school best friend and her husband came by. It was great to reconnect with her it had been so long. Now I had known her husband in school as well. To say I couldn’t stand him in school would be an understatement. He tortured me so much in school. He was an unruly teenage boy with one thing on his mind and I wanted no part of it. He told me at one point he was going to marry me one day and I laughed at him. He was truly relentless asking me out for 4 months straight till I got tired of him asking. I asked him if I say yes will leave me alone? The relationship didn’t even last 24 hours. I walked in the next morning he was holding hands with my best friend. I never knew that what was to come of us soon would even be a remote possibility.
Here I am going through a divorce and had reconnected with my best friend and her husband. I was just living life going through the motions not caring or feeling much of anything, but I was ok because I wasn’t drinking any more. I started hanging out with them more and more at their house staying the night there almost every night. My daughter and her husband’s daughter were about the same age and they hit it off quickly.
The saying hurting people hurt people. This is the most real statement I have ever not only experienced in my life but one that I acted on as well. A few months after us hanging out, her husband and I decided we were going to have some fun. No strings attached. He wasn’t happy in his marriage, and I just wasn’t happy at all. I wasn’t looking for anything didn’t want another man that could hurt me and wasn’t going to put myself in a position for another man to hurt me. No strings attached sounded perfect to me. I didn’t care that this was my best friend’s husband or what I was doing would affect her in a way I could never take back. I was broken and lost and hopeless and didn’t care. I made so many excuses for my actions, he was leaving her anyway, she won’t know, it’s just for fun no strings attached. Who am I actually hurting, but at the end of the day I made the choice to hurt her and hurt her I did.
We have a very unusual story when it comes to this. Situations like this do not usually work out this way but for us by only God’s love and grace ours did. Our no strings attached led to so much more. I tried staying away when I realized I somehow with all the walls up to protect myself had fallen in love with him. I stayed away for a while once I realized that. He had also told me he wanted to end things, he had to try to make things work with her. This should have been the end right there, he’d work on his marriage and they’d make it work and I’d stay away as not to create any more conflicts, but again I was a hurting person who was so selfish that I decided to show back up again.
7 months later he and his oldest daughter was moving in with me while his wife was at work, and he was getting divorced. I still felt I did no wrong. She was why he left. It was all her fault. Deep down though it was my way of justifying the guilt I felt inside. I had hurt her like so many had hurt me with my ex. I have reached out to her and asked her to forgive me not expecting anything from her. I knew I had to apologize and make my amends with her in order for me to heal and move on. She forgave me surprisingly. She thanked me for reaching out to her. She said she hadn’t been able to move on but now she felt she could heal. We stayed in contact for a few years after, but it was just too hard, and we decided it was time to part ways.
2 months after he had moved in with me, I had found out I was pregnant with our first son. We were so happy and thought life would be smooth sailing from here. We were so wrong. During this time, I am also still dealing with abandonment issues due to my bio parents and my ex and the abuse of my dad and mom. I knew I loved Ken but was so afraid to let him close. He would just leave me in the end. I pushed him away for so long and in so many ways. He finally sat me down and said, “I’m not them. I’m here to stay. I don’t care how long it takes I’m going to prove to you I love you and I’m not going anywhere.” It’s been 15 years and we are still going strong because of God.
About 6 months after he moved in my husband’s daughter began running away and threatening my life and my unborn child’s life. I caught her watching me under my bedroom door. I lived in fear for my unborn child’s life. I never stopped trying to love her. I wanted to help her because she came from a similar backstory as I did as a child. Again, if I just loved her enough I could change her but, that would fail, the only true one that can change any heart wasn’t in the center of ours. We were missing God.
After our son was born, we tried to keep a close eye on her with him. We could see the hatred she had for him. She had told us of 3 different plans she had to kill me and my son. I caught her with a knife to his throat at one point. I would love to say that we kept our cool and handled these situations like we should have but that would be a lie. We reacted in anger more than we should have in many different occasions. We had her in counseling, even hospitalized her thinking she needed more help than we could give her, but soon realized that she was choosing to be this way. Her psychologist even said she knew what she was doing, it was all a choice. We started recording our conversations to protect us from her lies. In one conversation I had recorded she had said she was going to continue causing problems and lying till either she went, or I went one of the two. I was so close to giving her what she wanted but now I was pregnant with our 2nd son. Her behavior and lies had child services involved so much that out-of-control charges were filed by the court system and a judge removed her from our care stating she would either hurt one of us or herself if she stayed. This was a month after her dad I had gotten married.
At this point I was broken, another person I loved dearly didn’t want to be in my life. There was all this abandonment in my life. I had hit my rock bottom and so had my husband. There had to be more to life than all this loss and pain. I couldn’t bear the hurt and anger I was feeling anymore.
Ken and I started talking about our options. We didn’t know exactly what we needed but we needed something. I remembered meeting this pastor at a previous job I had. He had started a new church and asked me to come out. I just never took him up on that offer, till now. Growing up in church I knew about God. I knew the power of God just never thought God loved me so I was hesitant about church of any kind. Something in me said we need to give it a shot. I mentioned this church to Ken and we decided to give it a try.
We began attending a church in the summer of 2013. From the 1st moment I walked into the church doors I felt at home. We were greeted and loved on from the parking lot all the way into the building. I had never seen a church like this. Pastor always says there’s 2 types of people who come to our church. One that says I have never been to a church like this, and I won’t be back. Then there’s the one who says I have never been to a church like this, and I can’t wait to come back. We were the latter of the two. The music captivated me, the sermon overwhelmed me, and I felt something I never thought possible. Everything was going to be ok. I just knew it. I had found my church home.
October of 2013, I rededicated my life to Jesus and found my hope again. Ken came to church with me but we were not in the same place. We were both still hurting from his daughter, but his hurt and anger showed through in a different way. It got to the point I gave him an ultimatum. Get help or I was gone. A few days later I had volunteered for an outreach event the church was hosting. I was helping at the coffee bar. I was still new to church and didn’t know many people. I met a couple ladies this day that will forever hold a special place in my heart. I began speaking with one of them about some of the things we were going through when another woman overheard and came over to us. This 2nd lady and I started talking and before I knew it I was opening up to her about things I never knew I could open up about especially with someone I didn’t know. She had asked me if I had heard of CR. Of course, I had heard pastor mention it in services, but I had no idea what it was. She began explaining to me what this program was. I was interested immediately. Yes, my husband needed this. Question was how I was going to get him to go willingly. She gave me her husband’s number telling me Ken could all any time. I started praying God would open his heart and mind up to it. I found out later that the following Sunday the 2 men had actually talked, and Ken was convicted to go to the program. I truly believe God put me there volunteering that morning to put these women in my life.
April 3rd 2014 was our 1st cr meeting. I went to support my husband with his anger. He definitely needed help. I soon realized I did too. I took my first chip that night. The chip that would be the start of me changing my life by allowing God to love me and accepting that He did. We continued to go to CR volunteering and eventually stepped up to leadership. I was giving back helping others healing myself in the process. I worked my steps forgave those who hurt me even my mom and dad, my bio parents, and my stepdaughter. The hardest part of all that was forgiving myself.
Three years I had been serving at the church and at CR every week. Still struggling with life but life isn’t meant to be easy. My daughter was now 16 and she tells me she’s moving in with her dad. I don’t want her to go. He hadn’t been in her life for most of it and I couldn’t protect her from him if she was living there. Here we go again, being left. I didn’t stand in her way I let her go. I knew if I had tried to stop her, she would resent me. Things were already hard between us as it was. Teenage years are always the hardest for both the parents and the kids.
She moved out and I lost my daughter. She didn’t call she didn’t text she didn’t come see me. She changed her number. For a year I went without having my daughter in my life. I was working more and more hours with no time off. Still volunteering at church and CR and we had started another program I was helping with too. But something was different in me. I was feeling lost again, no hope. Depressed. I went through the motions not realizing I was doing just enough to survive. I distanced myself, the anger of losing yet another loved one consuming me. I eventually just went numb.
One day the females of the leadership team pulled me aside asking me to step down from leadership telling me they had seen me struggling for a while. My first response was “yet not one of you had reached out to me?” The response I got was the phone works both ways. Yes, while technically they are correct, depression doesn’t see that logic. Depression sees your problems are just that yours and no one else cares so why bother them with it. The hardest part of this was 2 of the 3 women sitting in front of me were my best friends matching tattoos and all, or so I thought. The other woman was the pastor’s wife. Their lack of concern for me about my sudden depression made me realize I cared more than they did. Another loss.
At the time these women and helping others in this program was the last little bit of hope that I was hanging onto and I felt that gave me purpose. They took that from me because I was struggling, I was struggling in a program for people who struggle. I couldn’t wrap my head around this. I was so angry and hurt. They were supposed to love me, support me, help me when I was hurting. How could they kick me when I was down? I walked out of the meeting before it was even over, I was so angry and hurt. I also quit attending CR.
I began to question God again. How could he allow all this bad to happen to me? I just wanted a drink. I knew though if I picked up that drink I wouldn’t stop and this time I’d probably end up killing myself. I didn’t drink. I just kept living life one day at a time till one day I realized I had no reason to be angry. My daughter had to figure out who she was. Although it still hurt, I realized she had all that time with me and she needed her time with her dad. She had her own lessons to learn. She came back to me, and we are now closer than ever.
A few years later I would leave this church after witnessing several things that didn’t align with God’s word realizing that sometimes God puts us in places for a reason and for a season. Our season was finished there.
Looking back, the people at CR were right to ask me to step down. Although I may not agree with how they went about it, I was in no state of mind to be leading anyone. I was empty and depressed because I lost sight of the most important thing, God. I forgot to practice what I was preaching to all those I was trying to help. To look to God to hold to Him in the hard times and in the good. I took it all for granted and God had another lesson for me in it all and it was humility. He wanted to humble me. I was helping these people, but was also taking the credit for God’s work. I forgot that God gave me the story and the strength to share it to help further His kingdom and glory. God needed to remind me I was where I was because of Him, and I needed to give him the glory. It’s a lesson that was hard to learn but a lesson I needed to learn. Even before I shared this, I had to be sure the reason behind it was for the right reason. It’s about God and all that He had done, can do and will do in my life and others. He is the reason I am where I am. He is the reason I came out stronger. He took all my pain and suffering and turned it around to a story that will help someone going through the same things one day.
Realizing this was something I needed for what happened after I shared this testimony on a ministry page live on facebook. I had several people behind me supporting me and encouraging me to tell my story. At first it was told anonymously. I feared my family knowing I was sharing some of the things I was sharing. I mean they didn’t believe me when I was a child why would they believe it when I was an adult. God told me to share my story that night so I did. I mean my family isn’t associated with this group and I’m not even logged in under my account. It will be fine. They won’t know and I can tell my story to help someone else like God wanted me to. But wouldn’t you know it, my sister, who by the way is the least electronically inclinded person in the family, somehow found her way on to this live feed telling all the dark secrets of my family. Within an hour, I was blocked from my sisters and brother-in-law, and other family’s pages and then the posts about me began. I had been disowned by family and a church I had called home for 10 years within just a couple months time (The church blocked me on facebook as well)
It was hard to swallow, but I didn’t fall apart this time. My faith held firm in God. I started seeing things differently. I started seeing things that God wanted me to see and I realized not all things that seem bad are bad. I don’t have to hide in fear of my family anymore. I can see my worth in God, not people and I realize I’m not what everyone says I am. I am free from their negative thoughts about me and I’ve learned it’s ok to not be okay as long as I don’t stay there and I turn to the right one, God. I have also learned in this that sometimes God will remove those out of your life that actually are harming you especially when you can’t see the harm they are doing to you. I had to be set free from this in order to go where God wants me to be. Sometimes God removes you from what or who is holding you back from His purpose and plans for your life. I now see how that is the case for me. Living in the fear of them and their reactions of me. I was fighting for people who either never fought for me or gave up on me many years ago. It was destroying me. I had to be set free.
Life is still hard at times, and I struggle daily, but the difference now is I am not alone. I look to my God to give me the strength and the love and guidance to keep me focused going down the path He leads me down. I am nothing without my God and to Him I give all the glory of all that I’ve overcome. It was in His strength and power not mine at all. I did not have the strength to pull myself out of any of it. It was all God never leaving my side and never giving up on a sinner like me. I pray that my faith continues to grow and that I continue to find my strength in God who saved me.
“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” John 16:33 ESV
Randomness 
Your story is powerful and it’s not done yet!! Thank you for sharing
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God never wastes a hurt! And yes I believe there will be more to tell. God isn’t finished with me yet!
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Do you know about this movement happening on March 25?
https://www.facebook.com/YourStoryIsNotDone?mibextid=uzlsIk
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No I haven’t. I will check into it though. Thank you!
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