I did not grow up christian… In fact it was far from it. My parents fought all the time, and not just verbally but physically. During my childhood, my mom was in and out of mental hospitals, emotionally unavailable a lot of the time. When I was about 7 or 8-ish I watched her attempt suicide by swallowing a handful of pills right before my young curious eyes. My home life was not easy… constant fighting and yelling…
Life at school was not easy for me either… I was relentlessly made fun of by the other kids… They made fun of me because I wore thick glasses, calling me "four eyes" and "coke bottles," … and because I was (and still am) a BIG dork!
This is me around age 5
I know it sounds like nothing, "every kid is made fun of" you say. I guess it just felt harder on me growing up because I felt very alone not just at school but also at home as well. I played by myself a lot. My two older brothers were 4 and 5 years older than me and didn't really want their pesky little sister hanging around them and their friends. (I don't blame them haha)
When I was 11 my parents finally got divorced. It was a huge blow on me because I didn't want my mother to leave… I wanted to go with her. I felt safe with her, like she could protect me from my father. I was truly terrified of him. Hated him even. I hated him for the way he treated my mother, and my brothers. When my mom did nothing to gain custody of me I did not understand why she was not fighting for me. She didn't want me. I felt so abandoned by her.
I remember the night she left so clearly… I went to my bedroom sobbing, got down on my knees and begged God not to let this happen, please don't let her leave. Unfortunately I heard this strong voice in my head, "This has to happen…you will understand when you're older." But that just made me furious. I cursed God. I told Him I hated Him and wanted nothing to do with Him. I told Him to get out of my life.
From that point on I just continued to go down a darker path. I became extremely depressed and even suicidal. I felt extremely unwanted and extremely alone. I didn't think anyone cared about me, not even God. I hated God. I told myself I didn't believe in God anymore.
I felt hopeless, like my life had no purpose. I had no reason to live. I didn't think I had a future. I did poorly in high school, thinking I was too stupid to apply myself anyway, so why try? I fantasized of ways to end my life once I graduated high school. However, God had other plans for me. 🙂
My junior year, there was this guy in my computer class who would purposefully sit next to me and talk to me about Jesus. I feel bad though because I gave that kid a really hard time. I would ask questions that would stump him all the time, thinking I was right and he was wrong just because he didn't always have an answer to my questions. He stopped after awhile, mainly because I think he figured I was a lost cause.
That summer before my senior year I had the most realistic dream I've ever had, and never one since. I dreamed my maternal grandparents (who were probably the only christians in my life growing up – they passed away when I was in middle school) came to me to warn me about getting my life right with God. When I say the dream was realistic I mean that I could literally feel a cool breeze on my skin coming in through an unseen window. Everything was extremely bright as if there were an enormous light shining in the background. I recognized them as my grandparents, but they looked young without wrinkles! At first my grandparents and I just laughed and reminisced but suddenly my grandpa's face grew serious. He started telling me things – which I don't remember unfortunately – but I know it was about God, and me needing to turn back to Him. I remember saying "yes" in the dream and right after that I woke up with a startle with the sensation that I was falling. The next day I told my dad about the dream I had, and that we needed to find a church. Once I "officially" gave my life to Christ, I began to talk to my dad more often, and through the process of us going to church together and talking about God and the bible, past wounds were healing. God was restoring my relationship with my dad.
I soon realized that God had never stopped pursuing me, never left me even when I told Him I hated Him… He still loved me with an everlasting, unconditional love. Though I wish I could say that my life was all peaches and cream after that, it wasn't. True, I was on fire for God, I had joy and was completely in awe of His love for me… but years down the road I did begin facing a lot of struggles and disappointments… mostly I think God was really just trying to cleanse out all the junk and lies I had been toting around since my childhood.
My faith is not perfect… I am not perfect by any means. I have wavered at times. But God has never let go of me.
