I want to share with you today a little about my ending and my

beginning …

 

Now, I know some of you are going

to JUDGE me just by looking at my tattoos and some of the things I am going to

share with you but me and God are cool with that...

 

I grew up in a VERY broken home my mother and step-father were

 

alcoholics and drug addicts. I was beating, molested and abused emotionally and

 

mentally in ways people cannot fathom by the time I was 10 years old by people

 

whom lived in my own home people who were suppose to protect me and love me.

 

Growing up religion was not a part of my household. The only time I heard about

 

God was when I would visit my grandparents during the summer time. Grandma would

 

take me to vacation bible school and I will never forget the night I accepted

 

Jesus Christ into my heart. I thank her for those times. However not wanting to

 

upset and shame my grandparents they had NO IDEA what was going on in my life

 

apart from them. By the time I was 13 I was already starting my own drug use and

 

being promiscuous. As a young teenager I grew hateful and angry for the things I

 

was enduring and I dammed GOD if he was real for allowing these terrible things

 

to happen to me. There was no love in my home only abuse, hate, pain, sorrow and

 

entrapment! I learned to be strong, tough, a protector; to my

 

mother and siblings but often I question,” Who’s protecting me?”

 

Around this same age my siblings and I were taking away do to my mother

 

being locked up. We were placed in some foster homes, than in a home of an uncle

 

whom was also a drug user and abusive and I experienced yet another tragic

 

memory of sexual abuse. I will never forget the night I ran away and pleaded

 

with my grandmother to come rescue me. So by the time I was 14/ 15 I was allowed

 

to live with my grandparents. At this point they are trying to understand and

 

figure out where their beautiful smart young grand daughter was? I was damaged

 

goods by this time. Grandma would try to take me to church and I

 

believe I was involved with some church activities but I was so consumed in

 

drugs… those time were very blurry…I was doing it all from cocaine, heroin,

 

weed, alcohol, LSD, pills and so on… By 16 I was raped by my boyfriend and was

 

extremely suicidal. I over dosed between smoking marijuana laced with cocaine,

 

drinking and popping prescription pills my heart actually stopped beating. I

 

remember flying upward clawing at my chest gasping for air in the back of an

 

ambulance as a paramedic held paddles over me. I vaguely remember being in ICU

 

unable to move anything from the neck down. I had to have someone stay in a room

 

with me and was strapped down to a bed once my vitals were ok. My family didn’t

 

know what to do with me. They ended up putting me into a rehab center for

 

awhile. I cannot really recall too many events after that and I would like to

 

say I may have tried walking the unbeaten path for awhile. I

 

continued to use drugs. I was filled with so much hatred towards my mother and

 

step-father. I was one of those people who could maintain a job and my

 

responsibilities of paying bills because I learned to become independent and

 

self sufficient. I didn’t want to live by anyone’s rules but my own.

 

I didn’t believe in GOD or the devil. I believed religion to be a

 

bunch of BS. My grandparents always said go to church and pray but all I felt

 

was judgment and criticism because they couldn’t understand why I hated life,

 

my-self, why I used drugs… they were always their when I needed them for help

 

with money or physical needs but I felt they never could ever understand me or

 

accept me for what I had become they could only see the sweet innocent smart

 

little girl they wanted me to be the girl they thought they knew.

 

Around 19 I lost a loved one do to a drug overdose he was only 22.

 

Alcohol and oxy-cotton took his life and then I questioned if there was a GOD

 

again. I couldn’t handle or deal with his death. His sister and I were best

 

friends at the time. She was always a believer in god but she herself was lost

 

and was a drug user and alcoholic. She got me to try and renew my faith in GOD.

 

I was even baptized. I tried to stop doing drugs. But I was still broken. I

 

didn’t know how to embrace the word of God. I tried going to church on Sundays

 

and I tried praying but eventually I stayed away. I always felt judged. I never

 

once shared my story with anyone in a church. I couldn’t get past all the “lovey

 

dovey stuff” and all I saw was beautiful people on the outside and I felt I

 

never belonged. None of those people could love me. How could they when I

 

couldn’t love myself? I never knew anything of love. Love was being abused and

 

doing drugs and having sex…that was love right??? At 21 I was in a bad car

 

accident do to drinking and driving. I was a passenger. I was the only one to

 

get hurt. I was the only one that had some sense to know that the driver was

 

also intoxicated and was driving 120 miles per hour…I was yelling for him to

 

slow down…at the speed of 80miles an hour we clipped another drunk driver doing

 

45 on 81 I was thrown from the back seat and should had went through the front

 

window but didn’t…I sustained a gaping hole through the bottom of my lip so bad

 

the ER had to have a plastic surgeon operate on me. You ask did this stop my

 

wicked ways? Maybe for a little while….I continued to live my life

 

as I saw fit. My mother and I started our drug addiction together. My mother

 

even taught me to use needles in my arms. I partied hard. I carried a gun. I

 

sold drugs with my mother. I went to the bars with my mother. I thought I had

 

finally had a relationship with her. Until 2005 I became pregnant

 

with my daughter. I stopped using drugs and alcohol. I knew I had a life to take

 

care of. I buckled down; stopped hanging around certain people, places and

 

things. I started working a good paying job. Started doing the things I was

 

supposed to do. After the birth of my daughter I did stay clean. I can honestly

 

admit that I relapsed for a total time period of 4 months since 2005. I tried

 

doing good. I worked hard paid my bills tried to be a good mother. This became

 

routine. I still didn’t believe in god or the devil. I felt I was so strong that

 

only I myself had over come all these hardships. I didn’t need a GOD I could do

 

everything on my own. I didn’t need friends. I prided myself on achieving a good

 

job and making good money. I started going to the bars again and would have sex

 

with strange men. I was searching for something. I was searching for love in all

 

the wrong places. I thought I was doing good for myself and I just needed to

 

find a man and I would be complete. I got to the point where I was disgusted

 

with myself. So I stopped going to the bars. I would work 6 days a week 12 hour

 

shifts. Away from my daughter depressed alone angry. I tried not to bring men

 

around my daughter. I didn’t want her ever experiencing the things I did as a

 

child. I wanted a better life for her. So I just did what I had to do work, pay

 

bills and provide for her. I kept meeting men that were criminals, lyres,

 

cheats.. I was still angry all the time. I hated my job. I hated people. I just

 

wanted to be alone yet every night I would cry from so much hurt and loneliness.

 

I could never figure out what I was doing wrong in my life. I

 

noticed my working all the time and my sadness was affecting my daughter. In

 

December of last year I thought I finally met the ONE. However, this past July I

 

had been with a man who didn’t do drugs, wasn’t a heavy drinker, he didn’t go to

 

church, he worked hard, was raising his 2 children on his own. A lot like me I

 

thought. He had suffered great hardships as well. Really thought we had a

 

connection. I loved him. We spent quality time together with our children. We

 

even talked about marriage. Then I found out that his mother did not approve of

 

me because she was catholic and I had tattoos and didn’t believe in God. She

 

thought I wasn’t good enough to be around her grand children. I didn’t drink. I

 

didn’t do drugs. I loved his children. But he became consumed with other

 

people’s opinions of me. So he started to distant himself from me. Found out he

 

had cheated on me and than three days later I found out I was pregnant. He

 

flipped out. He didn’t want anything to do with me or the baby. He gave me 400

 

dollars to abort the baby. He made me feel like a piece of trash. The trash that

 

I had thought I was because of my past. What was wrong with me what did I do to

 

deserve all these horrible things? I had sat in my bathroom for an hour crying

 

thinking to myself who can help me? What am I doing wrong? I’ve tried living a

 

good life. I had changed my ways. Why was I still hurting? And this thought ran

 

though my mind “you are not putting God first”. I knew my grandparents wouldn’t

 

understand and my mother just recently got out of prison and rehab and was

 

starting a new path in her life. My baby sister and baby brother didn’t believe

 

in GOD and had started their rocky path from all the hurt and pain we went

 

through. My oldest brother just got out of prison and was on the run. I had no

 

friends. Than Kristen Ruffner spoke in my mind. She had been my

 

daycare provider for a couple years and I knew she attended the living room. I

 

sat there clenching my phone just crying and staring at her number and I felt

 

like I couldn’t breathe like there was a boa constrictor around my throat and it

didn’t want me to reach out but by the almighty grace of GOD I DID!!! Kristen

had always been praying for me and my family. She would try and invite me to

church and she would try and say good things and encouraging things to me

throughout our short drop off and pick up times. She was there for me with arms

wide open and no judgment. We talked throughout the days about my situation and

going to church. During the week I had started to have cramping and bleeding and

the doctors couldn’t find the fetus. The ER doctors ended up

finding the baby in my tube and they had to end the pregnancy or it would have

 

killed me. I ended up having my tube and unborn child removed by surgery on Thursday July 28th and on July 31st I woke up and texted Kris and told her I wanted to go to church. I walked into the living room that day willingly and knowingly that I needed GOD!! Every day since that day I have continued to receive god’s word, god’s love and the love of a group of beautiful women who have not judged me. Throughout my short beginning with God he has been speaking to me to share my story and I have with a few women. The things I have shared with you here today about my past are just a small portion of the battles and demons I over came but I wanted to summarize them in a short story to grab your attention. I want you to walk away today and know that there is hope! There is a GOD if you don’t believe! If you’re a believer please don’t judge others and criticize them! I know it’s hard but as followers of Christ we must build up his army! Love with arms wide open! You never know who you may just save! One little seed was planted in me! The lost need real people like you and me to be there to reach out to them and if they don’t want to be reached one day they WILL reach back with your prayers and hope and your faith in GOD! Lead by examples! It’s not about being a perfect person or perfect Christian! It’s about God’s LOVE for ALL OF US!!! We are all deserving of love! Do not be ashamed! Do not be silent! Do not hide in the darkness anymore! You are NOT ALONE!!! Let your Light Shine!! Renew your passion for GOD and become on FIRE for GOD AGAIN!!!!!