I've thought a lot about what a testimony is supposed to be like. What do you put into it? I've come up with one answer: "I've no idea." I do know what my take on it is so, we may just get somewhere after all!

When I listen to other people share their story, I hear that I'm not alone in my hurts, and that others too share the pain. Their story may be a little different, but what we hope to send out to others is that we are all the same; different struggles, different lives but one God Who made us all. We are all one.

So this is my story; it will tell you that there is hope. If only one person hears me, I mean REALLY hears me, then I've done what I was supposed to do.

I was born in 1974 in California. I have an older sister. I've come from a long line of substance abuse, parental abandonment and all around insanity.

In 1978 my father kidnapped my sister and myself and brought us to Washington. When we first got here my father moved us a lot. I am not sure if he was paranoid from the weed he was smoking, or that my mother would find us, probably both.

I remember my father having many girlfriends and some were not so great. He did finally meet a woman and we all moved to a little two bedroom house. My first memories of that house were my dad's grow room and all the lights. We were told never to mention the "Wacky" tobacco.

It wasn't long before he girlfriend started to sexually abuse myself and my sister. Then the beatings began. By the time I reached Kindergarten she was gone. My father found us a new babysitter. He started to sexually abuse us as well. It all stopped suddenly, just as it had begun. I later found out my sister had made a deal, she wouldn't talk if he left me alone. He did.

Around this time my sister, not wanting to get into trouble, decided it would be a good idea to have me smoke some of Dad's weed with her so I wouldn't "rat" her out. This is where my life of drug abuse first began.

We moved again into a place called Kelly Hill. I hated it there. No one was around for miles. My father met another woman, who had a son. She brought us to a big white church, were they taught me about God and His son, Jesus Christ. She soon left me just like all the others. I asked my father about going to church and he told me "no way", there was no God. He went on to explain to me how he was raised Catholic, and had gone to a Catholic school. Apparently it was horrible.

When I was 8 or 9 I met a family and started spending more time with them. They didn't have to do all the cooking and cleaning like my sister and I had to, and their parents were home with them. We all grew very close. Dad let them come up to the house 'till we stumbled across his plants. I don't think I was allowed any more friends around the house again until I was like 21 or so.

When I was 10 my mother found us. We went down to meet her that summer, then every summer after. My sister chose to stay with her after that second summer, once again leaving me to fend for myself. I moved back and forth from my mother's in California and my father in Washington. I continued to use marijuana.

I dropped out of school after the third attempt in my third high school. I received my GED at 16. I met a man hitchhiking and left my father's house.

We had a son, K., when I turned 18. By 19 he had taken my son from me, ending 3 years of abuse.

I started using meth shortly thereafter. It was only a few months before I started to shoot up. I was hopeless, homeless and alone. After about a year I moved back to California with an old boyfriend's mother. I stayed clean for a few months, then found out I was pregnant again at 21. I moved back to Washington to my father's house. I hated it. I soon found yet another man, thought for sure this was the one. I moved him into my father's house, and it wasn't long before my boyfriend and my dad started on meth and coke. Soon my dad lost his job, all his money, went bankrupt, left the house and told me "See, there is no God! Good luck!"

I had another son, J. He was 6 weeks old when I started on meth again. When he was 8 months old I left him with a friend while I ran into town. By the time I got back my son's leg was swollen. My friend gave us a ride to the hospital. They told me my son's femur had been broken. They put J in a body cast, gave me a U. A. and placed him in foster care. J was there 6 weeks and then he was given back to me. I moved to California once again.

That only lasted a few months before my boyfriend convinced me to come back: this time to Spokane. It was in 1997. We tried it for awhile but I hated him. I found out I was pregnant, yet once again left the boyfriend and found another one. This one beat me, raped me and later I found out that after my third son, S, was born, that he was molesting my son J. I left.

When my boys were 1 and 3 I relapsed on meth once again. THis time I turned myself in and asked for help. CPS took my boys; I never did get help until in 2002. I became pregnant once again, another boy. I used until a week before he was due. I left my boyfriend. I made three phone calls, one to a hospital, one to my father, and one to a shelter. We went to my father's 'till I had my son. I moved back to Spokane when he was 10 days old. I ended up at St. Margaret's, a homeless shelter. I was scared with no idea how to deal with these people. I was convinced they didn't get me. Thankfully I ran into a girl I'd known from the streets. She helped me a lot. I didn't feel so alone anymore. I started to go to out-patient. J. D was this woman who befriended me and started to harass me about going to CBC (Community Bible Chapel and Celebrate Recovery). I'll tell you I thought she was crazy. I knew there was no God. It had to be some sort of Cult. It took her about 6 months of irritating the heck out to me, and wanting her to shut up, I relented.

I though the guys were hot and kept coming back. I found me an apartment, then a job. And a new man at CBC. Guess what happened! I found out I was pregnant. At this point I was still going to CBC on and off when I wasn't working. WHen I was about 5 months pregnant my son M. became ill. It later turned out to be stage 3 cancer. His prognosis; a 40% chance of survival. Talk about God! I am not ashamed to tell you that I was mad at this so-called God. Next thing you know, the church was at the hospital surrounding us. I wanted them to leave. I had no interest in any of their kind. How could I possibly believe what they were saying about God? I still believed I was a victim and now my two year old son as well.

One day pastor Don showed up and said something to me I'll never forget: "We are not alone." They all still came and this burden was lifted. We weren't alone. I had help, and a shoulder when sometimes I became sick or just too tired, my church family at CBC took turns staying at the hospital. When we had to go to Seattle for he bone marrow transplant, they told me he wasn't going to make it, there were a few people from CBC who came all the way over there and helped me by holding my hand, even crawling into bed with M and lifting us up to God. Today M is 4, extremely active to say the least, and a stubborn as they come. My son J is now 2.

God has also placed my other boys back into my life. J is 10, S is 8. They know their brothers and spend weekends with us. K is 15 and lives in FLorida with his father; He found me in February.

Today, I believe in God. I believe in forgiveness and love. I now know that God has carried me and my family all along. He gave me the strength to never completely give up. He doesn't cause these horrible things to happen, but rather uses them, if we let Him, for good. We are not victims, and there is a positive in every negative. God took a dying family in despair and showed us the light and fills me with hope and happiness. I am content!!

Proverbs 10:25 says When the storms of life come, the wicked are whirled away, but the Godly have a lasting foundation.

Today I still don't understand why all the heartache, but I have complete faith in God's glory!

2 Cor 5: 6 - 7 says So we are confident, even though we know that as long as we live in these bodies we are not at home with the Lord. For we live by believing and not by seeing!!

 

Dawn