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2009 best posts – a re-post: my story

December 30, 2009

funny thing about my 3 part “my story” posts…i originally posted them on another blog many moons ago then decided i would post them here in a span of three days, a while back, cuz i wanted to take the week off. well, ended up to be a very busy week here at inProgress…for which i was, and am, very grateful for. it allowed for some great discussion and confessions and ministry to many hearts. our stories are powerful and can offer much needed healing to others…

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Here is my story, my journey to God. Honestly, I struggle with things like this because they always end up seeming like a, who has the saddest testimony.

Truth is, my testimony sucks. It is sad. I endured things a child should never have to endure. If you can think of an abuse, I was a victim of it. But that’s not what I want to talk about.

I always knew, early on, there was a God. I didn’t know it was “GOD” – but I just, knew. The book of Romans speaks to this – that the truth about God is known instinctively – He has put the knowledge in our hearts. Even so…I never searched for more of Him, for a better understanding, or even an introduction. I never set out looking for Him. He just met me where I was.

June 3, 1990. I got married to a man named Steve in Knoxville, TN. I was 19 years old and he was 34. I was looking for the father figure I never had. I just wanted someone to protect me. To coddle me. To love me. This man wasn’t to be that person.

I knew, to the bottom of my toes, I shouldn’t have married him. He was volatile, unpredictable and a drinker. But to the outside world, he was a pillar in the community, a very well known businessman with a stellar reputation. Until one day…he snapped.

I can’t, to this day, even begin to figure out why he came undone. He just did. We were driving home from a golf tournament and he began yelling at me like I was a completely different person. Making accusations and planning my punishment.

I will not go into details of what happened. But for the next 3 days, I was his hostage. He didn’t go into work. He unplugged the phones and went on a tirade. During the 2nd day, late in the evening, I was exiting our bedroom after having just had a “beating”. When I opened the door I saw him searching for something in the hall closet. Wanting to be helpful and non-confrontational, I asked if he needed help. He replied, “No, I just found what I was looking for.” It was then he pulled off the shelf, a gun.

I froze. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak.

I got in trouble for just staring. That’s when he backed me up against the door and put the gun to my head yelling, “There’s nothing stopping me from shooting you. You know that don’t you?!” I knew he was serious. And even though he had asked the question, I couldn’t answer. I just cried. He pushed me to the ground and walked away.

Fast forward to his drinking binge several hours later where he finally passed out from getting so drunk. I took this time to leave. I grabbed his car keys and drove to my brother’s house, the only other person I had in TN. But my brother wanted nothing to do with this. He had one thing to say to me…”You’re gonna end up just like Mom. Just go.”

I had no one else. Nowhere to go. I followed in my mothers footsteps and went right back to my house. Directly back into the hands of a man who could take my life.

While he was still passed out, I called my mother. Her advice to me was when he woke up, to act like everything was just fine. Like he had done no wrong. Even take the blame for everything (even though I had no idea what I was to be blamed for). She told me to do whatever he said. Get him to a point where he was calm and I could convince him to get back on with life. I thought the strategy to be a bit odd – but then she said…”get him to go into the office in the morning then go down to the Greyhound Bus Station, there’s a ticket there to go back to Southern CA.”

So. That’s what I did. He woke up a different person, so that helped, and I began treating him as if he were a king. I convinced him into going to the office that morning but that I would need to drive him and keep the car to do some grocery shopping. He didn’t protest.

I dropped him off then sped like a demon home, put everything I could into one suitcase and went straight to the bus station.

There I sat, a 19 year old little girl, barely escaping with my life. Then I heard a tap on the bus window. I’m certain my heart stopped. I wouldn’t look. I couldn’t look. The tapping got louder and faster. Then I heard my name being yelled. It wasn’t Steve’s voice, it was my brothers. I started to cry. A lot. He motioned for me to get off the bus. I told him no. I was too afraid. He insisted.

I met him just outside the bus where he would tell me he had never left me that night he told me to go away. He followed and watched my every move. He let me know that Steve had followed me to the Bus Station too and was planning on taking matters into his own hands – but…my brother got to him first. He assured me he wouldn’t leave until my bus pulled away.

The next 3 days would begin my journey back to So. CA where I would be met with the most unexpected of situations…

read part 2 here

read part 3 here

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3 Comments leave one →
  1. December 31, 2009 9:51 am

    What a powerful testimony. God is amazing.

  2. December 31, 2009 11:27 am

    Hope I don’t get in trouble for reading all 3 parts before commenting. Wow. Just wow. It’s funny that Nicole Wick was asking for thought on Ecc 3:11 this morning. To go through what life throws our way, good or bad, and to know the eternal Gift God has for us. It’s hard sometimes to keep asking “why, God” and not always get an answer. I look to the day when God answers. I know it will all make sense one day. Got a tweet from @empowered today that is simple, but hard: “Faith sees the invisible, believes the unbelievable, and receives the impossible.” -Corrie Ten Boom
    It humbles me to read your story. To feel the pain, but also sense your victory in overcoming that very pain.
    Abuse is a common thread in many addicts lives. I’ve heard so many tragic stories from addicts in recovery. Recovery gives me the tools & refreshes my memory of spiritual principles to be able to work through the pain of my childhood. And adulthood. I don’t have a story like yours, but I still have pain from the mental abuse I did suffer. The stories of how we got here may be different, but realizing God never ever left my side is just so humbling and awesome! Why me? Because I needed to reestablish my connection with God & addiction took me to a bottom where I realized there was a way out of the addiction & problems with my professional license. Back to the basics of prayer & faith. I choose today to use the tools I had all along. God-given tools.

  3. January 2, 2010 1:27 pm

    I missed these the first time around. Praise God for the life He’s given you, even when it was hard as nails. He is so faithful and good.

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