Our Testimonies
|
Testimony One As a child of about 8 years old, I briefly attended Penninsula Baptist Church near Blackwater, MO. (approximately 40 miles west of Columbia). I went to vacation bible school and attended a revival with my mother, my Daddy wouldn't go.
. So, I got married at age 16; just 4 days after my birthday. I had my first baby at age 17 1/2 , and my second baby shortly after my 19th birthday. My husband had an affair and I was divorced at age 21. I was living in Northern California when I divorced and I stayed there 6 years before returning to Missouri. It was the early 1970's. I got into the drug and partying scene. Remember the 60's and 70's?…."God is dead….Drugs are fun….Sex is free…." It 's a wonder that I survived some of the powerful drugs that I took. There were medications that would cure sexually transmitted diseases, in those days. I was arrested for marijuana and spent a week in jail. I attempted suicide and was locked up in a very scary mental hospital (Napa State) for a couple of weeks. I was a mess and I had 2 small girls that went through a lot. I had a 10th grade education and we lived on welfare. We nearly starved a few times. I believe God sent help a couple of times. One time was when we were OUT of food. Nothing left to eat and 4 or 5 days before the next welfare check came. My girls ages 2 ½ and 4 went outside to play and they came back in a short time later and said they had found a dollar. It was a $20 bill, and I just knew that they had stolen it. I made her show me where she had "found " it, She took me to an isolated area, (where they weren't supposed to go play), and looked around real seriously until she pointed to a thick bush, and said, "There, in that bush!" I had cried out for God to help me, and now I thanked Him, and we went and bought food. Another way God sent help was through an older Christian couple, Mr. And Mrs. Shiner. They came to my house every day and provided transportation for my girls to and from day-care. (I had no car). This allowed me to go back to school. I had taken the GED tests for my high school diploma, and had passed with such high scores the instructor convinced me to go to the local community college. With financial help from Vocational Rehab., I eventually earned an Associates' degree in Business Administration. Mrs. Shiner was so sweet to the girls and I. She had grown kids and grandchildren of her own, but insisted we spend Thanksgiving and Christmas at her house. She knew we would be all alone. Her home was warm and comforting and everyone was so nice. I knew they were Christians by their love! I think they planted a "seed of desire" in my heart for a Christian life! But, it would sadly be many years before I would do that. I was still sure I could find happiness, peace, satisfaction and contentment all on my own. I came back to Missouri in 1976, attended Columbia College, worked, (sometimes 2 jobs), and continued to drink heavily and lived with my boyfriends. I was so lonely and I had finally found a boyfriend that made me happy . I knew he wouldn't make a good husband. I had no plans to marry him. I had lived with him for 3 years when I found out that I was pregnant. I was 31 years old, and my 2 girls were ages 10 and 12. for several years I had said if I ever get pregnant again, I would have an abortion. The Dr. told me I was pregnant, and that's what I told him I wanted to do. He said someone would contact me the next day. Oh, what a long day that was! I cried a lot! I couldn't do it! The Daddy was happy about it, and agreed to get married so I married for the second time and decided to make the best of it. I entered the marriage determined that this child would have a father in the home until age 18. At the request of his mother and my mother, who were both "active Lutherans", I also became Lutheran. I took confirmation classes and was "sprinkled" (not baptized). We went to church occasionally. The marriage was a living Hell. He worked and made money, but rarely paid a bill; I did that. We were poor and lived in some pretty terrible places. He drank and he was violent. He physically abused me many times. Before I was pregnant, we were splitting a fith of whiskey one night and he hit me in the face so hard he broke my nose. During the 16 years I was with him, I also had 6 stitches in my leg (from flying glass during a fight), black eyes, busted lips and bruises too many to count. Oh, sometimes I would pack up and leave for a few days and there were restraining orders….. I think the verbal abuse hurt the most. In 1978, when my mother died he said I shouldn't even go to her ---- ---- funeral, because she didn't leave me ---- ----- anything! Of course, he was drinking with a couple of buddies in the living room when he said that. It was a very difficult time for me. About a month after that we split up and I filed for divorce. Well, he begged for another chance, and I agreed to try it again if he would first go to Charter Hospital for the 30 day inpatient alcohol/drug program. He did, and the next year was really good. The best year of our marriage. I fell in love with him all over again. The next four years after that year were all down hill. He slowly began to drink again, gaining speed like a locomotive! His behavior was the worst I'd ever seen. I didn't drink after he was released from Charter Hospital. That didn't stop him from drinking, but at least he couldn't blame me for tempting him with it. Five years later, by the spring of 1994, things were really bad. He was beginning to treat his own daughter very poorly. He was very hateful toward her. She was now 12 years old. The 3 of us had been planning a vacation to Myrtle Beach, SC for the past 5 months, but one week before we were to leave, he said he just couldn't go, had to work, too busy. I had clues he was going to do this, so I invited my oldest daughter to go and help me drive, and the 3 of us went. He was so furious, he couldn't believe we went anyhow. He expected us to stay home. Well, a few weeks after the trip I discovered he had been having an affair with another man's wife for several weeks. That did it for me. I filed for divorce! In 6 months it would be final. The first 3 months of that 6 months were the worst days of my life. I really and truly did love him. We seemed like soul-mates at times. Oh, we had some fun together, and there are some precious memories, but the "bad" outweighed the "good". Affairs are something I just can't live with. When his affair was over, he begged to come back and I had to avoid him and most of his calls. When he saw sweet talking and begging wasn't working, he threatened me-repeatedly! He threatened to kill me anyway he could. He mentioned maybe the old mobile home that my daughter and I lived in would burn as we slept some night. Several times, late at night, I would hear his pickup slide to a halt on the gravel road about 20 feet from my trailer. Then he would stomp the gas pedal and spray the side of my trailer with gravel. You want to know how scared I was? I bought 2 smoke detectors, and a 38 special, a parking lot purchase. I carried that little hand-gun in my baggy jeans' pocket everywhere I went for about 3 months. I target practiced, and I was very goodI wasn't going to let him hurt me, or our daughter, ever again! There would either be a divorce or a death! Is there any wonder I couldn't eat or sleep for 3 months straight? He wanted half of everything that he didn't even help pay for --- I always paid all the bills! He wanted "our" 21 acres of property sold. So that he could have half of the money it was worth, he was trying for ½ my future retirement benefits from my job. We would have to have a judge split the property, and I could possibly lose everything I had worked so hard for. I lost 30 pounds in a short time. I only ate a little bit every 3rd or 4th day. I slept 3 or 4 hours a night, if I was lucky. I cried all of the time. I had a ton of burden on my shoulders. I felt like I couldn't breathe at times. In October, 1994, 3 months into the divorce proceedings, I was working one day on a dead telephone line S.E. of Harrisburg, way out in the County, on a gravel road. I was running cable trouble on a very long line, when it began to storm. There was lightning and thunder, and it was dark and dreary. Days like this worsened my already depressed mood. It rained hard for hours. I sat by that telephone pedestal (229-9), in my truck, and read a magazine, a Reader's Digest, and anything else I could get my hands on. Then I felt around behind my seat searching for another book to read and my hand brought out the ragged old Bible I had mindlessly thrown into my truck about a month earlier. I don't think I had even looked at it yet. I don't even know why I took the only Bible in my house, and put it in my truck, but there it was. I began to read and skip around to various books and read a few scriptures here and there. Then I read Matthew 11, verses 28-30: Come unto Me, all ye who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." As I read those verses, tears began to roll down my face. Tears were dripping off my chin and I could tast them in my mouth. The words, "Heavy laden" were echoing in my mind. Then, the full weight of my burdens hit me suddenly and I cried out loud. I read the verses again, and this time I saw the words, "Come unto Me," and "and "I will give you rest. " Rest, oh, how I needed "rest"! Especially my mind. My body was tired, but not as tired as my mind and my soul. I read the words, "and ye shall find rest unto your souls". Oh, how I wanted and needed that. So, I sat right there in the driver's seat of my work truck, rain pouring down, and my tears pouring down, and I asked the Lord to come into my life. I said, "Oh, Lord, my life is such a mess. I feel so miserable. Please help me! Please help me with my burdens; I can't breathe!" I talked to the Lord and cried for quite a while. Eventually, the rain slowed and so did my tears. I took a deep breath and laid my head back. I felt lighter and somewhat relaxed. More deep breaths and a feeling of peace came over me. I finally drove off from that spot on the road, I can't remember if I ever fixed the telephone line or not, but I still remember that exact spot on the road, and I know my life was changed from that day on. At first I just felt hungry to read more. So, I read my Bible almost daily. On Sunday mornings before I left for work, (I had Tuesdays, and Wednesdays off), I watched preachers on TV. I also began to pray a lot and asked God for the strength to go on. Well, my appetite came back and I began to sleep better. I still slept with my little gun on the headboard at night, but I didn't really feel afraid anymore. My divorce went well. January 10th, 1995, our case was heard by a judge who would divide the property. It was an 8 hour day in court and I was on the witness stand about 3 or 4 hours, mostly being questioned by his attorney. I had a very bad case of laryngitis that day, and I don't think it was coincidence! When his attorney angered me, I could barely "eek" out an audible answer. I couldn't yell or express my anger, and I was full of it! I was awarded the land, I kept my retirement benefits, and was ordered $300 a month child support, which I've never received. I'm owed over $20,000 in back support now. I am very thankful to God that I have a very good paying job and I have survived just fine without the child support. After my experience on the country road in October, 1994, I don't think I realized at first that I needed a church; anyhow, I worked Sundays, so it was impossible. My daugher, now 13 years old was home alone on Sundays, so when a friend of hers asked if she could go to church with her I readily said, "yes". That friend of hers and her family attended Liberty Baptist Church. (She died at the age of 14, shot accidently by a friend.) I was beginning to have a lot of problems with my daughter in the fall of 1995. She seemed to almost suddenly lack any of the good morals or values she ever had. I thought about what to do, and decided that the best thing to do would be to have her in church every Sunday. Shortly after I made this decision to attend church with her, I had enough seniority at work to bid a Tuesday-Saturday shift. I hadn't had Sundays off for about 7 years! So, about one year after my experience with God out on that county road, my daughter and I began attending Liberty Baptist Church. I had no idea how badly I would need the support of the people in my church. I was just going to help my daughter all I could….. She was the one that needed church! I was in Sunday School to learn more about the Bible, so I could best influence my daughter. Everything was going great until one morning the pastor mentioned "adultery", and tears rolled down my cheeks. Then there was the subject of "forgiveness". WHAT? Me forgive my ex-husband for ALL he had done to me?! How could I? Okay….I'll try. I tried, and tried, and tried! When I thought I had, something would come up, and prove that I hadn't. It took almost 2 years! It wasn't an easy thing to do, but deep down inside I knew that I needed to do it. I prayed about it a lot, and then came the "Final Exam". I got a phone call from my ex-husband. He said he was moving back to Columbia from the Lake of the Ozarks area and could he sleep in my driveway a couple of nights? I thought to myself, "Oh, boy…. Here we go again!" Well, he sounded sober, maybe even dried out, and I did need to say some things to him, so I told him he could. The day came and he called as soon as I got home from work. He asked if I could pick him up at Hippie's house. He said he wasn't able to bring his car. I wasnt' surprised. I brought him to my house and fed him a cheeseburger and fries, the first meal he'd had that day. He looked very "down and out". He needed a haircut, his clothes looked awful, and he didn't have a dime or a car! I couldn't stand the thought of him spending the night in my house, so I asked my brother next door if he could sleep there. He said, "One night on my couch." My brother discovered that he needed to be in court the next morning. He gave him some clothes. The next morning he came back to my house for coffee before I left for work. He shaved in my bathroom. (I lput a new blade in the razor, backwards-not intentional, but it did make for a rough shave!) My brother gave him a ride to the courthouse. While he was there, neither of us said a single cross word to each other. I told him I forgave him for the things he had done to me. He seemed to be "testing the waters", but they were cold. It was over, and he knew it. I knew I had truly forgiven him. I didn't hate him anymore. I felt like I could get on with my life. I felt kind of sorry for him. I think I passed that "Final Exam". In January, 1996, My daughter attended the youth conference at Tan-Tar-A, where she gave her life to the Lord. We were both baptized at Liberty on Feb. 11, 1996. We went to the altar together that day and with our Pastor wife's arms around us, we prayed the prayer of salvation. We had knelt at the far left side of the altar, and I still remember the sunlight coming through the window. It was different that day, brighter and more beautiful! Oh, if only every day could be like that! I hope you are not expecting me to say that I lived "happily ever after", because I didn't . I want to share one more episode of my life, and I will do the best I can to summarize the last 6 years. I prayed a lot, and I went to the altar a lot, and I got through it. I am not broken. I am stronger. About 4 weeks after we where baptized, my problems with my daughter became much worse. In March 1996, 10 days before I was to have knee surgery, she bruised her own eye, ran away, and told police that I had beat her. She maintained that lie for 3 years. It caused her to become a ward of the court, and she was in foster care for the next 3 years. I kept telling the social workers that I thought there was something wrong with her. The change in her was so sudden! She had always been such a good little girl, so smart and made such good grades. The social workers either didn't believe me, or didn't care enough to check it out. I didn't give up. I prayed hard for 3 years, and I went to the altar many times. She was in 4 different foster homes, and spent nearly a year in Farmington Children's Home. 5 months of that time she was locked up in a jail-like facility. They placed her on a medication, Tegritol, that helped. After a few weekend visits home that went well, she was released to live with me. 2 weeks later we learned she was pregnant. She had to quit taking the medication that was helping her. A couple of weeks after that she became violent and punched holes in the walls. A few weeks later she was so severely depressed that she couldn't function. Her Doctor put her on an anti-depressant. This chain of events is the only reason we got a diagnosis for "what is wrong with her'. She has bi-polar disorder, it used to be called manic depressive illness. It is a form of schizophrenia. Her's is very severe. When her doctor put her on the anti-depressant only ( a no-no for bi-polars', but she hadn't been diagnosed yet), it caused her to have a psychotic episode. That is when the person loses touch with reality, can't carry on a conversation, may hear voices in their heads, exhibit odd behavior, etc. She ran away again (the 7th or 8th time). She didn't sleep for 4 days, dyed her hair black and shaved off her eyebrows. She must have experienced a sane moment because she called "911". She said she thought something was wrong with her. She was admitted into Charter Mental Hospital. Her drug tests were negative. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I had never heard of it before. It broke my heart to see her like that. They said she would probably lose the baby. I prayed and prayed for both of them. The doctor put her on a medicine she could take while pregnant. Upon release, Division of Family services put her in a "behavioral Foster home" near Hannibal. They did not believe her illness had anything to do with her behavior and that it could be disciplined out of her. I couldn't believe this was happening. She was 5 months pregnant, and still throwing up every day, losing weight steadily, and so over- medicated that she slept 15-18 hours a day. The new foster mom limited the amount of food she could eat, no milk, (it was for the younger boy), wouldn't allow her to sleep during the day. This triggered panic attacks. She put my daughter to work in the year of her new mobile home, carrying bales of straw and concrete blocks. My daughter cried a lot, and wanted to come home. A week after she was placed in this foster home I had a meeting with the social worker in that county. I was angry and outraged, but stayed in control. I promised I would hire a lawyer immediately to stop this abuse of my child, and I would hold them responsible if she lost the baby. She was allowed to sleep and eat all she wanted after that. With the help of a good attorney, and a very good psychiatric doctor, she only spent 19 days in that foster home. The doctor re-hospitalized her for 3 weeks, got her medication adjusted, and then she was sent home to me. Three months later the baby was born, a boy, 6 lbs. 8 ozs. Except for some breathing difficulties at first, he was just perfect in every way. Praise God! That was an answered prayer! At the advice of my attorney, I immediately filed for guardianship of him. Since my daughter was still a ward of the court, the baby would be, too. He would be placed in a foster home, and would be placed for adoption at age 15 months. I was in my attorney's office at 8 am, signing already prepared documents, while at the same time social workers were in my daughter's hospital room telling her they were taking her baby over to the University hospital, where "all there babies go!' The baby was 4 hours old. When I got back, the social workers questioned me for over an hour before they decided not to take the baby. They could have until my guardianship was granted several weeks later. I praise God for that, too! My daughter and baby lived with me, and with some help from her sisters, and I, she took good care of baby and was a very loving mother. When he was a year old, my daughter's medication began not to work as well. The doctor tried everything on the market, and different combinations, and increased amounts. She continued to get worse. She was hospitalized in May after a suicide attempt and at this time she was put on still more medications, which did no good. Finally, in October, 2000, she left the house saying she would be back by noon the next day. I was so tired when I got home from work, and didn't want to babysit, but I did. She never came back! I pleaded with her every way I knew how. I tried to tell her how upset the baby was, but she wouldn't listen. He cried and cried for his ma-ma, especially at night. I would sit up in bed, and hold him and rock him, and cry with him. I prayed and prayed but this prayer was not to be answered. I don't know why. I just trust God that he will help me do what I have to do. Since October, 2000, I have been raising my youngest grandson. Even though it is not what I've always planned to do at my age (51), he sure has been a sweet little blessing. With God's guidance, we are going to be just fine. Since that day on the country road, my life has not been without problems. I prayed and went to the altar many times, more times than I've mentioned. There were so many things going on in my life, all at once, that I couldn't mention them all. There have been problems at work, and with another daughter. The encounters with the social workers should have broken me. I clung to the Scripture, "Come unto me, all ye who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest"! In the darkest times I had "peace" that made no sense at all. I clung to Phillppians 4:13, "I can do all things, through Christ who strengtheneth me." One time when things were really out of control I clung to Psalm 46:10…"Be still and know that I am God." I was always trying to outdo Him, or, at least, do it my way. I thank God I pulled my old Bible from behind my truck seat so long ago, and began to really read it! Read the Bible! What have you got to lose? |
|
 |
|