Recently I was encouraged to tell my story- to share the journey that brought me to Christ. I struggled, at first, to see how this story fit into my healing journey. I wasn't sure if it had a place in a blog about healing. But, after much thought, I decided that this too is a part of that journey. Physical healing is important. But without the spiritual healing my body can't fully heal. And even though I have been a follower of Christ now for 14 years, I've never really told my story-the whole story. Perhaps the reason this is so important to tell is because many wounds have followed me into my adult life and some have even inhibited me in many ways. Though this testimony is not directly linked to the actual illness it certainly plays a huge role in how I perceive things, how I deal with struggles, and thus how I heal. So, I'm ready. I'm ready to be vulnerable; to tell the world a story of a girl who so desperately wanted to be loved, who had hurts nobody could heal but a Savior she had never heard about, who sought a kind of hope she didn't know existed, and who one day found it. A story of pain, of sadness, and of redemption. A story of the journey that lead me to this moment in time where I would have the opportunity to share with others how the Lord healed my soul, and continues to heal my soul as I allow Him in daily. How this same God has given me the hope I need to press on and push forward even on days when my whole body screams in pain or my mind wanders to places it has no business being.
So, bear with me as I navigate through this and please be gracious with me...
When I was 8 years old my parents divorced. Very early on into the divorce I made the decision to no longer visit my dad. Looking back I now know that this was my way of shutting down and not dealing with the emotions I was feeling. Instead, I ran from them. This would later become the theme of my life. My brother went to live with my dad before I was 10 and we no longer associated with each other; we became 2 separate families. My mom's boyfriend started coming around more and told me not to tell anyone (since he was still living with his wife). I didn't think anything of it, it had just become normal. By the time I was 10 he had left his wife and moved in with us. The friendly man who had once tried to impress me had transformed into a man who made it his mission to not allow me to get in the middle of him and my mother. The day he moved in he and my mom got into a really bad fight. I remember them screaming and yelling at each other. I stood in the kitchen frozen. I literally couldn't move. I stood there just crying intensely and he looked at me and said "what are you crying about, this is all your fault". I thought maybe the fight meant he wasn't going to move in after all, but I was wrong.
He mentally and emotionally abused me every day. There wasn't a day I wasn't sad. I hated myself. The insecurities this caused me later in life were unbearable. I didn't know it at the time, but he also sexually abused me (I didn't even know the things he did and said were actually sexual abuse until I was a grown woman because I thought that it was just the way he was). He hated me and he made sure I knew it. I remember when I was 14 years old I was standing at the top of the basement stairs while he screamed in my face, and in my mind I said "just push me". I would sneak in the bathroom while my mom was taking a bath to plead with her in secret. He had moved us out to a secluded farm and I had become a prisoner, I couldn't even talk to my mom without sneaking around. My mom worked Saturdays and I was left alone with him on the farm. These days were terrifying and I never knew what to expect. He would leave the farm for short periods of time to haul water or do something at the farm next to us. I would sit on the couch and watch out the window for the old blue scout to start back down our winding dirt road. And when it appeared I would sit in fear, wondering what was next. And I sat there alone just waiting.
When thinking about how I was going to tell this story I really couldn't decide what to tell and what not to tell from this chapter of my life. I wanted to accurately convey the hurt I went through in this period of time to show the pain I was saved from. But, I also don't want to dwell on the negative things that happened so I will leave it at that.
I'll never forget the day we left. I was 15 years old. We packed up my mom's Buick while he wasn't home. As we were about to drive away he showed up and we sped away passed him. I was terrified.
Life was very hard after that. We had nowhere to go and I felt so alone. My mom had changed so much and I didn't even know her anymore. My great grandmother ended up taking us in and I remember my mon and I sitting on the bed in her guest room. My mom revealed to me that she was thinking of going back to him. I told her I wouldn't go with her and she said "then where will you go?" She had actually considered going back without me and I felt the ultimate betrayal. Thankfully, she never went back. But her and my relationship had been wounded so much that it took a long time for it to recover. I became so full of hurt and hate that I withdrew in every way. I shut myself down so I wouldn't get hurt anymore and wouldn't allow anything or anyone in.
And that became my life. I spent the next 5 years trying to fill the void that had been left inside of me. I started to drink and party. When I discovered that I could be a different person while under the influence of alcohol I became drawn to it even more. I used it to mask my insecurities about myself and drown my self hatred and lack of self worth. I started to date and would stay with someone for just a few weeks or even days then break up with him because I would never let anyone get close to me. I would move on quickly from one conquest to the next, trying desperately to feel better about myself. But, I never did. I was living in a world of self destruction.
My mom became a Christian when I was 16. Instead of that being a turning point for me I became even more angry, believing she was a hypocrite, and it put more of a wedge between us than ever before.
At 17, after another break up, I laid in my bed that night and accepted Jesus into my heart. I'd love to say that I finally got my life together but unfortunately I didn't. I continued living the way I had been living. At 19 I started dating someone that changed me ( I'd like to say for the better, but it wasn't). I became more lost than ever. I was so insecure that I tried to become who I thought he wanted me to be and completely lost myself in him. It was the longest relationship I had had so far and when it ended I finally had a turning point. His parents were Christians and before we had broken up his mom had invited me to church. We broke up before that Sunday so when Sunday came around I didn't want to go with her so I told her I was going to my mom's church instead. So, that's what I did! This was just a few months before my 21st birthday. I went to her church and literally made the decision right there to change my life. It was a pretty amazing transformation. But, just a few short months in, I received a call from a girl I used to party with who told me she was a nanny in the States and asked if I wanted to come there and work. So, I went. I fell back into my old ways. We started to drink together and I started to date someone again.
I always tell this story by saying this guy was Mr. Perfect. And, in many ways he was. He was the perfect gentleman. He was tall, dark, and handsome. He had an amazing relationship with his family. He was a 26 year old man who owned his own business, lived at home because he was saving to buy a nice house, and had never even kissed a girl. But... he wasn't a Christian. I thought maybe I could just accept that. Maybe I could even marry him and we could just keep that separate. But, God had other plans...
I had been church hopping every Sunday and found myself at a little old country church one Sunday morning in New Jersey. The Pastor's sermon was all about how important it is to be equally yoked; why a Christian should be with another believer. I just froze in my seat, trying desperately to find a way to justify my position. I had just read about Gideon in the Bible and decided to lay out a fleece. Right there I prayed quietly to myself: "Lord, if you're speaking to me I want that Pastor after service to call me back to him by name." Ha! Impossible, right?! He didn't know my name, so I was safe. After service I was determined to get out of there as quickly as I possibly could. The Pastor beat me to the door and was shaking people's hands. When it was my turn I sheepishly shook his hand. He asked me my name... I told him my name, then turned and started down the front steps. "Sara!" He called after me. "Come back!" I froze. That Pastor had just called me back to him by name. Then he said, "I wasn't supposed to preach this sermon this morning, it was meant for next week. Something made me change my mind at the last minute and preach it today. Now I know it was for you." By this time, tears were streaming down my face. God had called me by name. He had shown me that is was Him that could fill my void and nobody else. That He loved me more than anyone could. I went back to the vehicle and just sobbed and told Him I would never turn my back on Him again. Within the week, I had broken up with the guy and flown back to Canada to begin my new life.
When I got back, God completely turned my life around. I started to study what God's word had to say about how to be a Godly wife and mother. And, that winter I met my husband. We celebrated our thirteenth year of marriage in April and have 3 beautiful children together. The person I once was became transformed and I truly became a new creation in Christ.
Life still hasn't gone as I had planned. It's much harder than I ever imagined. Becoming a Christian doesn't make life all of a sudden become perfect. I have had major health issues for almost my entire marriage. But what committing your life to Christ does do is give you hope. He gives you hope. He gives you self worth. He gives you security and safety. He gives you love. He fills the void that nothing and no one else can fill. He heals your wounds and makes you whole.
I could take all the medicine in the world, all the treatments and supplements , all the oils. I could eat the most clean, healthy diet on the planet. I could do absolutely everything right but if I don't have Jesus I can never be truly whole. He really is the key to our healing. Because without Him, even if things go great for us and we are healed from an illness and we give the glory to doctors and medicine, where are we when something doesn't go great? Because life is never perfect. Without Him, we have no hope. We just have nothing. Nothing to turn to. People will fail us but He never will. I have learned to lean on Him and trust in Him more and more through the things I have had to face. It could have pulled me further from Him but instead it made me cling to Him as He helps me through each day. I am so thankful for how far God has brought me- from a girl who trusted no one and felt unloved and unworthy, to a woman of God who puts her trust in Him, a beloved daughter of the King of all kings.
