I want to start off by saying that I love God with all my heart, and I am grateful to him for loving me.  He loved me even when I could not love others, especially myself. Like a lot of people, my home was torn because of drugs and alcohol.  I can still remember the constant fighting and arguing.  I was only five years old and began to take on the “mother roll” for my younger brother, who was only four.  Then it happened, Social Services declared our Mom as “unfit” and we were court ordered to live with our Grandmother on our Father’s side.  I was only five but I remember feeling so unloved and unwanted. We lived with our Grandmother for two years, and it happened again, but this time we were sent to a foster home to live with, what appeared to be, a nice looking family.  My brother and I were both abused physically and mentally.  I wanted to protect him, but I was too little, this is when I began to hate everyone, even people who were just trying to help me. I couldn’t trust anyone.

Only eight years old, but already full of so much anger.  “Why couldn’t my Mom just stop what she was doing? Why didn’t she love us enough? Why did we have to live with these people? Why? Why? Why?”  I remember yelling at God like if he couldn’t hear me! There were many dark secrets I kept to myself out of fear that it was all my fault, and that I  deserved it.  I learned how to keep all my hurts hidden from people, I just wanted to appear normal, and I didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for me. As I got older, love became so unreal, something dirty, something hurtful, people, to me became so fake. The thought of being a family again was a joke. I found myself constantly daydreaming about the way I wanted to hurt all the people who hurt me, my mind became tormented. Eventually, the only person I would hurt was myself. When I would get angry I would hurt myself or pullout t my own hair. “Who cares, nobody will notice anyway.” was the lie I would believe.

When I was eleven years old, that was the last time my Mom went to jail. I remember thinking to myself, “I can’t take this anymore, I should just kill myself, so no one would have to worry about where to send me to live.”  But thanks to God he heard every single one of my cries.
My mom was sent to a woman’s home instead, because she was pregnant with my little brother. I was able to live there with her for one year. She surrendered her life to God. And God began to heal our relationship. He has given me a family, just as I desired to have as a young child. God restored my mind. I no longer have the tormenting thoughts of hurting people.  This, to me, is a miracle. Things have not been easy these past twelve years, but each step of the way he has been

there to pick me right back up! He is faithful, he is not like man who would let us down. 

I am twenty three years old now and have been married almost two years. God is teaching me every day how to love. I hope that what I shared would give someone hope. To anyone who might be ready to give up on life, or love. God does love you! Give him a chance to be your friend today!

 - 23 years old.