I would like to tell you about my life and just how good God is.
The details in the following reading could cause triggers so please
proceed with caution.
I am the baby of 4 children. I have 2 older brothers and 1 older
sister. My mom and dad were both married before, but I didnít find
that out until I was way into my teen years. All along. I thought
that I had real siblings. However, I found out that my oldest
brother was not my momís son. Well, let's talk a little about who we
will call "brother A."
He had a very bad temper. Short
fused you could say and he hated everyone. I was a very angry person
and as you can imagine, we didnít see eye to eye at all. My parents
would go out on the weekends and leave my sister and brother in his
care. Now, keep in mind that we didnít see eye to eye on anything
and when he would tell me to do something that I didnít want to do
and I didnít do it, I would find my head being bashed against the
wall or picking myself up off the floor. He got joy out of beating
I would get up and call my parents,
only to have my dad come home and do the same thing to me for not
listening to my brother. So, needless to say, the phone calls
stopped and "brother A" figured that he could do what ever he wanted
to do with me and I would not be able to do anything about it.
My sister always stayed in her
room, reading so she had no idea what was going on. She was seen as
the perfect one. My brother would take me in his room and make me do
things that a sister should not do to brothers. Let's just say that
he learned all about how sex worked by using me as his lab rat and
would say that he was teaching me what not to let others do to me.
If I didnít give in then it was head in the wall or picking myself
up off the floor, so I just laid there and let him have his way and
hoped that it would be over soon.
About the age of 13 that began to
stop as he and my dad stopped getting along, so he moved out.
Nothing was ever done about the physical or sexual abuse that he had
done to me. He got off scott free and I was left holding the bag.
During this time, my sister and I shared a room. I would tell her
about things that were happening to me and she would find something
and hit me with it saying that I was lying and I was trying to break
our family up. After getting beat with high heels, after a while,
again you learned to zip the lips. She was the angel, the perfect
child of the family so anything that she said was etched in stone.
So, when she would do anything wrong and not want to get in trouble
about it, guess who got the blame. You guessed it, ME. So, it would
result in more beatings. This time it was with the buckle of the
belt. I was whipped in places that could not be visible to the eyes
and was threatened not to say anything about the ďwhippingsĒ as they
Next, there is my brother closet to me in age. We will call him
"brother R." Well, R was and is the apple of my family's eye. The
sun rises and sits around him according to my parents. He did get
some of the beatings, but here again, he would blame me and of
course they believed him and here came more beatings. "Brother R"
began to make me come in his room and do stuff to him that I didnít
want to do and he would do things to me that are unthinkable for a
brother and sister to do. He would make me have sex with him when my
parents were gone. The one time that I told him that I was going to
tell he wrapped a pool stick around my head and said that next time
he would kill me for sure. Well, I told anyway and guess what? I got
the beating for telling on him, because I was once again they said I
was lying. My family had labeled me as a liar, so anytime I had
fingers pointing at me and I denied it, I was the liar.
My dad would get the playboy magazines in the mail and my brother
and his friends would sneak in and look at them and forget to put
them back where they belonged. Several times, my dad would question
"brother R" and he would blame me. I remember crying and telling dad
that I didnít do it, but he never believed me because I was a little
liar. So, because they thought that I seemed so interested in naked
women, dad would make me parade around the house without any clothes
on when mom was away and then it would end with us having sex
This seemed to become a habit for
me so it was not a big deal after all who would I tell? I could
never go to anyone within my family anything so, I learned to just
suck it up and forget about it, or so I thought. I had no idea that
at that time that it would come back and haunt me as I got older.
I lived for my weekends. I remember from the age of 4 getting to go
and spend the night with my grandmother. She was my only source of
love and strength. She was my god. She always did fun stuff with me
and would take me to Church with her on Sundays. My grandfather was
an alcoholic and didnít go to Church. He would come home around 2 or
3 in the mornings and sleep until we left from Church. Mamaw always
seemed to be the virtuous woman that I had always wanted to be. When
we would leave for Church, we had a well balanced breakfast and
lunch would be almost done. Man to be able to do that today!
However, as I knew very well, there was nothing enjoyable without a
lot of pain.
On Friday and Saturday nights I
would lay in the bed with my grandmother until we seen the lights of
my grandfather coming up the driveway and then I would run to my
room and act like I was asleep. Every Friday and Saturday night the
same thing would happen over and over and over again. Sometimes 3 or
4 times a night. I still envision the routine. My grandfather would
come in the front door and sling whatever was on the counter on the
floor. (Mamaw usually left his dinner plate sitting there for him to
eat dinner when he came in.) He would then walk past the kitchen and
to the bathroom. The bathroom separated my room from my grandmothers
room. He would turn the light on as if he went in the bathroom and
come in my room and close the door. He would climb in the bed with
me and begin to fondle and kiss all over me. I thought if I
pretended to be asleep he would go away.
Well, he got tired of doing just
that so he would take his socks off and stuff them in my mouth and
tell me that if I screamed, he would kill my grandmother. So, I
would just lay there with his nasty socks in my mouth, crying. He
would tell me not to cry, that He was just showing me that I was his
little Agnes (my grandmothers name) and he would say that it was a
special bond between just us and that no one should know about it.
It was our secret.
As I had told you earlier, no one
ever believed me when I told them stuff like this. They would say
that I had a vivid imagination and that I was lying. So, for years I
just zipped it and it was our secret. At one point I tried to tell
them what was happening and I got the beating of my life and never
said anything else about it again.
It got so bad with my grandfather
that when he asked me to go places with him and I was scared to say
no. So, we began taking trips to the store to get a coke and then he
would have to stop in the woods on the way back and we would have
sex. I finally learned to stop fighting and let him do what he
wanted to do. I didnít want him to hurt my grandmother anymore as I
had watched him beat her and break her arm for questioning him for
being in my room. I would do whatever it took to protect her.
Remember she was my source of life and my strength.
Anyway, papaw and I would go many
different places for him to have his way with me. There was one time
when we went fishing with 2 of his other friends and when they got
drunk and they had a threesome with me. I just laid there and took
it because after all no one believed me.
One day, I had taken enough and I
went to the counselor at my school and tried to tell him what was
happening, who proceeded to tell me that my dad had already spoken
to him about my vivid imagination so it would do me no good talking
to him and and guess what? Yes, you guessed it, one time when I went
into his office for something, he locked the door behind me and
raped me. Here again, I told no one zip.
This went on for 14 years until my
grandmother died and then it stopped, because I stopped going to
visit, being my Grandmother was gone.
I grew up being a hard, cold individual wondering how such a good
God could be so mean. I still went to Church on Sundays and tried to
learn to love God, the best way that I could, but the anger seemed
to be to much. I went to talk to a youth pastor about it and he too
was friends with my family and dad had asked him to talk to me about
my imagination. He too began to believe my parents and not me. So,
what else could he do but have a taste for himself. Yes he raped me
too. Just another day in my life.
Where was God? This was a man I had
grown to love and trust only to be betrayed. I began dating and sex
was something my boyfriends knew they were not getting from me. I
had taken enough to last me a lifetime for sure. For some reason, I
stayed in Church and tried to learn to understand and love God.
This particular guy that I was dating and I had gotten really tight
but still no sex. He had asked me to marry him and I said yes, I
would. It looked like a way out for me. We began to make plans and
dates for the wedding and things were going good. Then one night
when he brought me home and no one was home, he said we were going
to be married and we were going to have sex if I wanted it or not.
So, yes he date raped me and I just laid there and took it like all
the other times. I was still going to marry him but for some reason
before ordering my dress I called it off.
That was God!
I began to date another nice man and he too proposed to me. I was
deeply in love with him. We will call him "D." I was also very
involved with my Church being in the choir and orchestra and still
trying to figure out this God stuff. I was like a brick wall and no
one was going to get through to me to hurt me again. "D" was
everything to me and he would protect me, or so I thought! Well,
things were going well and it was the day of the wedding rehearsal.
The dresses were bought, Church was decorated, everything was
ordered and we were on.
Well, it came time for rehearsal
and "D" was not there. He never showed up that night at all. My
brother in law and my brother went to find him and ask him what was
wrong. The whole thing boiled down to the fact that he didnít want
to marry me because he didnít believe in my Religion. I wanted a hug
so bad from my mom or my dad only to get the silent treatment.
Three days later, I was asked what
did I expect them to do with all the wedding stuff. How did I expect
to pay all that money back because if I was not such a slut, we
would have gotten married. Never once did I receive a hug or an I am
sorry for your pain. It was all my fault in their eyes and that was
the end of it no matter what I said. I didnít have a hugging family
so I very seldom got hugs but needed one so badly. Here again I just
zipped it up and went on my way. I learned the hard way not to
question anything, to just deal with the blows that life gave you
and move on..
Where was God?
I stayed in Church because I promised my grandmother that I would
and that is where I met my husband. Things were going good with us
until my children got molested by a member of his family and things
began to go down hill from there. The courts got involved and we
were given an absolute 0 contact with the entire family. That has
been 5 years ago and I have not seen my husband's family since then,
but my husband has.
My husband began to drink and to
become very hurtful and mean to me. I still stayed because my
children had been through enough and they needed their dad. They
never saw him hurt me, so it was all good in my eyes. One particular
night he had had too much to drink. I had gone to bed way earlier
just to get away from him, when he came in my bedroom and he began
to have sex with me against my will.
Yes, my own husband raped me!
I still am with him today.
Where was God?
I later talked to him about what he
did and he had realized that he had too much to drink and he cried
like a baby when I told him what he did. He promised me never to
drink again and never to hurt me again and so far he has held strong
to his promise! We are working on loving each other in the way God
would have us love each other and things are better between us. I
wanted to leave him but have chosen to tough it out with him. I know
that God put us together and who am I to break us apart?
About a year ago my dad came down to my home to get a copy of
something that was made and molested me while he was here.
Where was God?
The pain had become too much in growing up, so I began to burn and
cut myself to do away with the pain.
It didnít help. It just left marks on me.
The only way people told me I could
deal with the pain was to give it to God.
How could I do that? This was someone who I believed never helped me
and always allowed people to hurt me, or so I thought.
Today I can tell you that is not
who God is.
You ask me how I know that?
I look back on my life and I see
how God did protect me from many horrible diseases that I could have
contracted. I could have gone off the deep end and done away with
myself, but that would solve nothing, so that was not an option. I
could go to counselors and talk about it but that would not do
anything but make me burn and cut more. That would solve nothing. I
learned that I was not important and that I was just a toy for
people to have their way with. I learned that it didnít matter what
I wanted because I was not important.
I found a few friends who told me who God really was and that He
really does love me. I could not believe it, but I tried my best to
hang on to the fact that someone loved me.
Did I love him?
Did I love anyone?
Not even my husband. He was a
I have now learned that I am the apple of Godís eye and I am the
most important thing to him. I have learned that He was there with
me during all the abuse holding me and crying with me. You see God
gave man free will and man's will was to abuse me.
Godís will was to love me.
It has not been an easy road to
travel and I am not there yet. I have forgiven God, man and myself
and I am learning to trust God and let him continue to heal my
heart. It has not been easy letting all this come out, but in order
to be healed I have to face it head on and so does anyone who is has
or is enduring this type of pain and suffering.
God is right there by our side
waiting for us to ask Him for help. I know that with God all things
are possible and that He promises that He will never leave nor
I have to take Him at His word.
What do I have to lose?
What do YOU have to lose?
God can do for you what He has done
Will you begin to let those walls
down and trust Him?
Will you give Him your heart and your hurt?
Will you allow Him to heal you?
You are worth it and you are important.
I would love to talk to you
sometime and tell you just how good my God is.
Here is a path that may help you
find peace, freedom and joy: