My Story

Not many people know my testimony. Pretty much only the people I'm really really close with. I tend to keep my already friends close and not let anyone new in. There's a reason for that. I would say it's one of my biggest weaknesses. But God works through my weaknesses. In my weakness He is strong. So this is a story about His strength, His provision, and His faithfulness.
My parents were never married when I was born, so from the start I never had a reliable father. My mom and dad broke up after a couple years and I've only seen him off and on since. My mom has had multiple boyfriends since then, most of them were never great role models or worthy of being called my dad. Some of them were abusive, some were alcoholics, some were drug addicts. But mainly they were all not-good-dads. I learned from them about the type of father that I didn't want. I'll come back to this more later.
My grandma and my aunt and cousin were the main reason I came to know Jesus. My grandma was Catholic and went to church every Sunday morning - 7:00 A.M. She made sure that I came with her, and when I was old enough, that I went to First Communion classes. My aunt was very strong in her faith and had homeschooled my cousins and was raising them to have solid relationships with Jesus. I spent the majority of my time at her house because my cousin Sara and I were best friends and close in age. I went to church with them whenever I was over, and even went to Vacation Bible School a couple times. As I grew up I built a solid foundation, so that when I was home with my mom I maintained my zeal. My faith became very much my own from a young age and just continued to grow. I read my Bible without anyone telling me. I prayed every night before I went to bed. A relationship with God felt so much more different than a relationship with anyone else.
As I entered middle school and my teenage years, life became tougher. My mom and I had just moved into a new house (our fourth move since I was a kid), her boyfriend had moved with us, and I was starting middle school. This boyfriend was abusive, especially when he drank, and I learned how to read the signs and stay in my room with my headphones on. I started talking to boys I liked (a big step for me, but not necessarily a healthy one). And I spent most of my time with my friends or talking on the phone to my cousin Sara. She helped keep me stable and helped turn me back to God when that was what I really needed.
In 8th grade, my best friend asked me to go to confirmation class with her at her church. I jumped on the opportunity to learn about God and get to spend more time away from home. That year my mom broke up with her abusive boyfriend and less than a year later found another man. Immediately they got serious and he moved in with us even though I told her I didn't want him to. I poured myself into reading my Bible and journaling out my feelings and prayers. My talking with God started to become more heartfelt and genuine and my greatest desire was to become a member of my friend's church family. I wanted a place where I belonged and I had read about youth groups being like families. I wanted a stable family, a place where I felt I belonged.
God hears the cries of innocent hearts. The groans of my Spirit were heard. However, it's always darkest before the dawn. High school began and for some reason my friends were changing. They didn't want to hang out with me as much. They were interested in different things, like boys and makeup and clothes. I wanted to go to church and read my Bible. Home had become like hell. My mom's new boyfriend would spend most of his time in our spare bedroom (which happened to be next to my room) or sleeping. My mom went through multiple jobs that year, she slept when she wasn't working, and when she did pay attention to me we would end up fighting. Her screaming at me and me ignoring her and staying silent. I joined the youth group at my friend's church, though she didn't go anymore, and still didn't make any really good friends.
That summer I decided to go on a trip with my new youth group. It was a 9 day long mystery road trip. None of the kids got to know where we were going, though it was somewhere out of state, but the parents got to know. I didn't really know anyone that went on the trip but I decided that maybe I would meet some new people and it would be a fun experience. I knew some kids from school though didn't really talk to them. At the end of the 9 days I had met Aimee, Nate, and Joe, as well as others, who 8 years later are still my best friends.
Even though I had new friends, that didn't mean that home life got any better. A year later I found out that my mom was using meth as well as other drugs. There is a sense of abandonment and jealousy when a child finds out that their parent has been loving something else more than them. I spent most of my nights crying myself to sleep. I spent my day after school locked in my room, not allowing anyone in. I would talk to my friends at youth group and at church. I prayed for my pain to stop. I journaled and read my Bible with a vengeance. When I was at home, God was my constant.
The summer after my junior year in high school I was spending nearly every weekend at Aimee's house. My mom was still using and she spent most of her time sleeping while I was home. I generally avoided her. One day she awoke in a fury and we got into a really nasty fight that ended in her hitting me, something she'd never done up until then. That was the last straw. That night I packed up all of my necessities and in the morning packed them in my car, left my mom a note, and drove to Aimee's. Her family was welcoming. I don't know why God provided me with a safe place and a safe family at exactly that moment, but he did. My mom was apologetic but a few months later she ended up in prison for selling meth. And again I was grateful that God had provided a place for me.
My senior year was another tough time. It's easier to say that you'd love to live with your best friend, but harder to do. Especially since I was used to living pretty much independently without thinking about anyone else. Aimee had siblings that soon were expected to become my siblings. I'd never had siblings before. I didn't know how to react to them. Her mom was unconditionally loving and accepting. She worked hard to include me and treat me as her own. I didn't know how to respond to a mom who wanted to be involved in my life. Not to mention I was a senior in high school, struggling to figure out my future. Needless to say, I had come to a refuge but was still stuck in the storm. God had blessed me immensely. He had provided everything for me.
I don't know why people suffer or why bad things happen to good/innocent people, but I also don't know why I survived with a pure heart. I should have been bitter and angry and spiraled downward into depression. I should still be in that place. However, that's not where my story ends.