My Story
PostPosted: Sat Apr 05, 2008 4:10 pm
Ok, I'll share my story now. I'll try to give the Reader's Digest version (i.e. short and to the point).
I did not grow up in a Christian home. My mother abused me physically and verbally growing up. My grandma took me to church a few times, but other than that, I never went. I was depressed a lot and had few friends. I was told on a regular basis that I was worthless, a mistake, and my mom and grandma would hit me even for little things. I was afraid to cry, afraid to show weakness.
I tried to act tough in middle school by cursing, but I was hiding a lot of pain inside. I was mostly a "good kid" but I was still empty and felt no hope. I thought often of suicide.
My aunt invited me to come to church with her and my cousins the summer after 7th grade. I gladly went --so glad for any reason to leave the house. I went for several months and heard the Gospel time and time again --I felt a tugging at my heart, but was afraid to follow at first. But God finally got a hold of me one Sunday morning during the invitation. I came forward and accepted Christ.
No, my life didn't "get easier" when I came to Christ, but I now was not alone. High school was difficult, but I made Christian friends and attended the local church. I began to grow in my faith and learn that God loves me.
Going forward to college, I really began to grow in my faith when I moved away from home. I continued to study and grow and adjust to college life.
But my sophomore year, I just overburdened myself. I stretched myself too much by doing too many different things and my mind just snapped. I fell into deep depression for several months. I kept having flashbacks over and over of my abuse. I quit my job. I still went to classes, but I didn't read my Bible and I spent lots of time hanging out with friends to try to "drown" the feeling. This all climaxed one night when I went into the kitchen of the Methodist student center and picked up a knife. I just felt that I couldn't take anymore---I couldn't take anymore pain. I was going to take my life.
But, I heard the small voice of God in my head saying "Child, you are loved much more than you know. You have friends who love you in the other room. I love you. Your friends would be very sad. Don't do this. I am here." I put away the knife and went out and sat with my friends. It was several months before I could get up the nerve to tell them what almost happened.
And frankly, that experience (excuse the phrase) scared the hell out of me. I still struggle some with depression (part of the healing process), but I am reminded of that night and I remember how close I came to losing one of the greatest gifts God has given me: my life. I am so thankful that God stopped me. I would have missed so much. Life has pain, yes, but it also has many joys.
Flashing forward, I have now broken ties with my mom so I can begin the healing process from the abuse. I know it will take a long time, but I know that with God, wholeness and healing is possible. He is with me in this and I am excited to see what God will do.
God is faithful. So faithful. I can trust Him. He is not at all like my earthly parents. He has blessed me so much.
I know that God can bring good out of these experiences. I trust that one day I will be given the opportunity to help someone else who has been through the same things.
I did not grow up in a Christian home. My mother abused me physically and verbally growing up. My grandma took me to church a few times, but other than that, I never went. I was depressed a lot and had few friends. I was told on a regular basis that I was worthless, a mistake, and my mom and grandma would hit me even for little things. I was afraid to cry, afraid to show weakness.
I tried to act tough in middle school by cursing, but I was hiding a lot of pain inside. I was mostly a "good kid" but I was still empty and felt no hope. I thought often of suicide.
My aunt invited me to come to church with her and my cousins the summer after 7th grade. I gladly went --so glad for any reason to leave the house. I went for several months and heard the Gospel time and time again --I felt a tugging at my heart, but was afraid to follow at first. But God finally got a hold of me one Sunday morning during the invitation. I came forward and accepted Christ.
No, my life didn't "get easier" when I came to Christ, but I now was not alone. High school was difficult, but I made Christian friends and attended the local church. I began to grow in my faith and learn that God loves me.
Going forward to college, I really began to grow in my faith when I moved away from home. I continued to study and grow and adjust to college life.
But my sophomore year, I just overburdened myself. I stretched myself too much by doing too many different things and my mind just snapped. I fell into deep depression for several months. I kept having flashbacks over and over of my abuse. I quit my job. I still went to classes, but I didn't read my Bible and I spent lots of time hanging out with friends to try to "drown" the feeling. This all climaxed one night when I went into the kitchen of the Methodist student center and picked up a knife. I just felt that I couldn't take anymore---I couldn't take anymore pain. I was going to take my life.
But, I heard the small voice of God in my head saying "Child, you are loved much more than you know. You have friends who love you in the other room. I love you. Your friends would be very sad. Don't do this. I am here." I put away the knife and went out and sat with my friends. It was several months before I could get up the nerve to tell them what almost happened.
And frankly, that experience (excuse the phrase) scared the hell out of me. I still struggle some with depression (part of the healing process), but I am reminded of that night and I remember how close I came to losing one of the greatest gifts God has given me: my life. I am so thankful that God stopped me. I would have missed so much. Life has pain, yes, but it also has many joys.
Flashing forward, I have now broken ties with my mom so I can begin the healing process from the abuse. I know it will take a long time, but I know that with God, wholeness and healing is possible. He is with me in this and I am excited to see what God will do.
God is faithful. So faithful. I can trust Him. He is not at all like my earthly parents. He has blessed me so much.
I know that God can bring good out of these experiences. I trust that one day I will be given the opportunity to help someone else who has been through the same things.
That's really special.
