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The first memories of my childhood are of my brother and me being moved from one foster home to another, which occurred about three times a year. Some homes were abusive; some were not. Eventually, we returned to live with our real mother. Though I adapted quite well to my new surroundings, I still felt like people weren't quite who they said they were. I really didn’t like people very much.
Things went pretty well for a few years. When I was 11, my mom invited Jesus Christ into her life and we started attending church on a regular basis. It was then that I was first exposed to the Bible. I soon realized that Jesus died for me, so I asked Him to forgive me and come into my life. I also asked Him to make me into the person He wanted me to be.
I was just beginning to like people in our church when everything suddenly went wrong. The associate pastor assaulted and humiliated me at a church picnic.
Grade 7 was terrible. I went from having lots of friends to being hated by my classmates. I was ridiculed and beaten up on a regular basis. To this day I don’t know why that happened. High school wasn't much better and by this time, my opinion of myself was at an all-time low. I was terrified of being betrayed and wouldn't allow myself to get close to anyone.
Eventually, my mother sent me to live with my father. It wasn’t long before he kicked me out. Devastated, I once again felt alone in the world. It was at this time that I met a man who seemed wonderful. He fed me and gave me a place to live. He also showed genuine respect for me and listened to me. Then he raped me. Having been betrayed yet again, I found myself in a pit of despair. I wanted to die.
Life became a blur after that. I robbed a store and turned myself in, earning myself a place to stay for the next 18 months. My poor choices did not end there. I started a relationship with a girl who was as messed up as I was, and found myself a father at age 21. I didn't know the first thing about love, trust and honour. Sadly, my son was stuck between two co-dependents that couldn't make a right decision if their lives depended on it. I remember saying many times, ‘Oh God, please be patient with me. Don’t take my life yet.’
Nine years later, we had a daughter. I felt like I was more mature by this time and was determined not to make the same mistakes I made with my son. I poured the only love my heart had ever known into this little girl. Unfortunately, I could not foresee the negative impact this would have on my son and his mother. Our family later split up when my daughter was a year old.
Finally, having reached an all-time low, I decided to give Jesus a chance. It was time to see if what I heard about Him at age 12 was true. So at 34, I told Jesus he could have complete control of my life.
Over the next three years God convinced me beyond a shadow of a doubt that He truly does exist. Even though I had forgotten about Jesus many years ago, He never forgot about me.
After all these years, I have found someone who truly cares about me. He is never going to betray me, He is never going to turn around and hate me and He will never abuse me. No matter what, He will always love me.
Jesus is slowly restoring my faith in life and in this world. He is also teaching me to love. God does not wipe out all the consequences of the bad choices we make. But He has promised to never leave me or forsake me. He is carrying me through life one day at a time. I'm even starting to like people, although I'm not always the best at showing it.
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