12. What IS My Story? A Journey of Freedom.

Happy Independence Day Eve! What more fitting a way to celebrate with you than to share a story of Freedom. Let’s be honest, we don’t have that kinda time. I already write longer posts. Full disclosure would take a book. 😂 But yes, as with any Christ-follower, the Big Daddy Weave song is spot on:

“To tell you my story is to tell of Him.”

I will tell you in this post, the development of my journey with Jesus.

“Because God” sums it up. God created this tiny life in secret in the womb of a 16/17 year old girl who married the boy who “got her into trouble.” I don’t know if it was parental pressure, or if they honestly thought it was the right thing to do. Before I was even a year old, my parents split. Who could blame them.

After that, they both went through a series of abusive relationships. The only place I ever felt safe was with my dad’s mom. Long story short because the details may never be known, I wound up being in the custody of my father around kindergarten. By 3rd grade, he’s remarried for a 3rd time.

She had 2 children from her 1st marriage. She and my dad then had 2 children together. And my mom remarried and had 2 children with him. Yes, I am technically the oldest of 7. Hence my Type A, Momma Bear personality. And none of this is being shared with judgement or malice. We’re all broken people in a broken world.

From my beginning I was unwanted, a nuisance, in the way, an obstacle to overcome, the unfortunate byproduct. There for how I may best serve the person who’s care I was under. At the base level of the trauma, God gifted me with the ability to endure. Deeper still, I survived 18 years of moving around, constant changing family structure, constant changing environment. 2 things were unchanging: 1) the many levels and varieties of abuse and neglect. (My siblings too, but I can only speak for my own experience.) And 2) the instability of it all.

Enter Jesus. It didn’t occur to me until decades later, but I met Jesus around Kindergarten. I’m not sure I would have survived without Him walking with me from that young. It was at my dad’s 2nd wife’s church, a small Methodist church (I think) with a gravel parking lot and the Sunday school in a portable? It was a white building. The classrooms had wood panel walls.

It was there I heard about Jesus. That He is my friend, He never changes, and He loves me unconditionally. God created me and has a plan for my life. Until a few years ago, all I remembered for sure was being baptized at that church and being afraid of a man I didn’t know dunking me under water. And my dad’s wife had forgotten to pack dry underwear.

My dad was baptized, too, and although I felt different, no one around me was any different, and I didn’t know how to put into words what I felt. I didn’t have anyone I could share that with, so I thought everyone believed in God. That most people know who Jesus is and believed in Him.

It wasn’t until college that I realized that’s not true. And that Christ-followers are because of The Holy Spirit within. I had come across very few people in my life where I could feel the presence of The Holy Spirit within them. I didn’t know until I came to Faith Promise Church, that the difference I noticed in certain people was even actually The Holy Spirit itself. All I knew was that I was drawn to these people and the light that surrounded them.

The Holy Spirit was always conveyed as an external, not an internal. But that’s why I viewed things differently, could discern things no child should be able to discern, have wisdom and insight that made some adults marvel and others resent.

In those early years, I went to 2 different churches sporadically with my mom’s mom (a formal Methodist church that was fancier and more organized.) and the one above that was my dad’s 2nd wife’s mom’s church. In late elementary school and some middle school, my dad and his 3rd wife took us to a nondenominational church a little more consistently. I was involved in youth and helped lead preschool on Sundays.

There were a few more people there with that light and presence about them, and I learned that following Jesus did mean living differently. That meant there’s definitely something wrong with the way I’m being treated. I wasn’t crazy for thinking that. I learned about sin, and backsliding, and hell, and as a result felt like I needed to “rededicate” fairly regularly. It’s no surprise that Grace was not an easy thing for me to understand, but by His Grace, I’ve learned and continue to learn.

It didn’t take long for people to realize things at home weren’t great and eventually we left church altogether. I stopped praying and stopped reading my Bible. Distracted now by even greater abuse and all things being a teenager who cares for a house of 5 children and 3 adults. If an image of Cinderella ran through your head just now, you got it, but worse.

There were times things were so bad, I thought of ending my life, but this still small voice talked me down. This peace washed over me that I couldn’t explain. And the thought would occur that I would survive and I could help other people. It gave me purpose. Later, I learned that it was the voice of God.

In the darkest moments of my life, even as a child, He was with me. Ministering to me. Eventually, as I got older, He would say, “I’m going to use this. Use you. Hang in there.” Raising my siblings and getting straight As also gave a helpful distraction.

The older I got, the more violent things became. I hated to leave my siblings, it nearly killed me. 5 days after my 18th Birthday, my now husband packed me up and moved me out. I threw myself into becoming the exact opposite of my environment and I though the more distance I put between me and that chapter of my life, the more healed I would be.

Not entirely true. I’m still healing. Glory to God that He finishes what He starts! I actually had to walk away completely a few years ago. I had tried to maintain relationships for many years, but God said no. And I was finally at a point where I was able and willing to listen.

About a year into attending Faith Promise Church, after years struggling to find a church, I began to have anxiety attacks regarding my salvation. I didn’t have that traditional, “I prayed a prayer and got baptized and walked into a different life” story that most of the people I know have. So I kept praying and studying what salvation meant, what baptism meant, who The Holy Spirit is, and the only thing I could conclude is that I needed to be baptized as an adult.

But even in doing that, I really wasn’t emotional about it. (Though I cry tears of joy anytime I witness a baptism. Maybe I’m stunted. 🤷‍♀️) I understand the symbolism and agree with the step of obedience; but for me it wasn’t an emotional experience, and these thoughts of doubt crept in. So one night the devil was on my back trying to convince me that I was the “turn from Me, for I never knew you” person the Bible warns about.

I was freaking out, eaten up with fear for my soul. I began to pray alone in my bedroom, Bible out on bed. I could feel the spiritual warfare in the room. It was heavy and angry and aggressive. A dark and weighty shadow fell. It was tearing away at me. Or at least trying. And scripture came pouring out of me that I didn’t even know I knew. I battled for what felt like hours, praying truth and fighting off the assault of my soul.

Then the sun seemed to come peaking through the window like at sunset, just before it goes completely dark. Though it had been completely dark around 10:30 at night. And the sweet voice of Jesus wrapped around my heart. “No one who didn’t know Me would fight like that for Me. Be at peace and do not doubt.” The dark presence was gone. I tried to find it, actually, to make sure it was truly gone, but no anxious or oppressive thought could come near. It was like Bella and her shield in Breaking Dawn. (#twihardforever)

The Truth is, Jesus has carried me through every trauma, every hateful and hurtful thing said or done to me. I was surrounded by evil from birth. Surrounded by intense spiritual and physical warfare and truly by the Grace of God alone, I survived. Not without all kinds of scars, but Jesus bore the brunt of them for me on The Cross as He did for you.

Your story may be similar to mine or it may be way way different. Please don’t compare. God made you unique. No 2 people have the same identity. Our identities are in Jesus, but they are not the same no matter who you are or what your story is. I can tell you that all of our stories are full of Love. Even in the absolutely worst of situations, He is there. “Seek Him and You will find Him, When you search with all your heart.” He’s not bothered by your anger or shame or pride or fear. He wants you to let Him have it all. He wants to take the broken pieces and turn them into something more beautiful than you can imagine.

Have you allowed Him the opportunity? Would you like to? “This is my story. This is my song. Praising my Savior all the day long.”

He has traded my mourning for a garland of praise, my ashes for beauty. He is fulfilling His promise to use the nightmares I survived to empower others in ways I could never dream on my own. He’s doing so despite my vast faults and imperfections. I didn’t have to wait till I achieved something in order for Him to do His work. I simply (and yet not so simply) had to hand it all over. In fact He uses my weaknesses more than anything! He can do the same for you! It’s a journey.

Have a been angry? Yes. Have I questioned? Absolutely. Do I have a full understanding? No, not even now. Nor do I suppose I will in this life. Don’t be afraid of your feelings. Let Him work through them with you.

Jesus, only You can truly change a heart, only You can heal the deepest parts of us. Only You can use that darkness to bring light. Thank You for my story. Thank You that someone reading this needed something from these words. Thank You for taking all of our shame and all of our suffering with You at The Cross so we can LiveALIVE here and now. Thank You for winning the war on our behalf that we might stand firm in the trials we face awaiting the next step in Your incredible plan of Love and reconciliation. Thank You for standing in the gap we could not fill on our own. It’s in Your name I pray for chains to be broken and Your glory to be unleashed within those who know Your Spirit. And Your Spirit to encounter those who need it. In Your precious, Holy name, I pray.

LiveALIVE Today,

Cindy