My Testimony

Hey y'all! My name is Hannah and this is my story. Please bare with me, as I don't write often and this is a difficult, long story to tell. I am still praying for the words to form as we speak! I hope this will touch you and PLEASE, if you have any questions or need help finding God in your life please talk to me! I will do whatever I can to help you! Well here goes from the beginning...

My parents got divorced when I was about three or four years old. As to my childhood, definitely rough. I don't remember a good 80-90% of it. From what I've heard it's better that way. Still leaves lots of unanswered questions though. All I know is that my parents couldn't get along, I tried to be good, but could never seem to do things right and was never good enough for them. I would end up sick, as in vomiting all the time, from the stress of it all-the screaming, fear of never knowing when I'd get in trouble, the abuse- and was then told that I was faking it as my head hung over the toilet puking. Definitely faking though, right!? If I had a nightmare and woke up crying I got called a baby and got sent back to my room alone, scared to death. I had a TON of nightmares too. Almost every night. Reoccurring ones. I still remember a few of them to this day....

Now about church. We would go sometimes. My dad went to this methodist church on occasion and my mom jumped around between non-denominational ones, but we never stuck with one church and we didn't always go. It never felt like family and religion wasn't really stressed in either house. I believed in God and prayed, but I was young and didn't have that spiritual "leader" or "role model" to look up to that everyone needs as a kid. I hope that makes sense? No one to answer questions (I was too scared to ask questions anyways-I was shy) and stress the importance of God. As much as I wanted Him, I couldn't do it on my own and didn't have anyone to show me how to have a relationship with Him.

Back to my life. As time went on my parents continued to fight, not necessarily fight, just not able to be civil around each other. They talked bad about each other in front of me. Tried to hurt each other, but they actually just hurt me. On top of that they were both very controlling. My dad wouldn't even let me keep my clothes in my room-he needed to pick them out for me. It was weird.

He drank too. A lot. He would call home from work saying he'd be late. Hours later when he still wasn't home we'd call his work and they would say he left a long time ago. He would eventually show up drunk. Sometimes (when he was around other people) he was the "happy" "fun" drunk. Behind closed doors he was not. He has anger problems but he always had to have everything from the outside look perfect, the inside not so much. For example, the landscaping was always perfect. Walk inside the house and the walls weren't painted and the windows were still unframed from a project he started years ago. I've heard that's a sign of addiction. I'd probably have to agree with that statement.

I was always a reserved child and never talked back. If my parents thought I spit toothpaste on the counter even if I didn't, I would take the whooping and grounding because it was easier than arguing. They were always right anyways, so if I ever tried to stand up for myself I'd get in trouble for being wrong. I remember times when I would even take the blame for something I didn't do so that at least my older sis wouldn't have to be in her room all day too. Of course that got me double punishment for lying on top of whatever else I "did."

Anyways my sis was the opposite. She would scream at them and cause trouble--lying, stealing, etc. They fought a lot. At one point my sis was diagnosed with bipolar disorder or something like that. For a long time we thought she was raped. I don't know if that's true or not but it kind of scares me since I don't remember a good chunk of my past... Anyways, I don't even remember why my dad did this, but in 6th grade I watched him sprain her neck by strangling her against a wall. Completely helpless. I wanted to do something but I just couldn't. My dad was a strong guy. I was small. If I tried intervening who knows what would have happened. It was like a bad dream. I still get flashbacks of that day. The look in his eyes. The fear. Him lying to the cops about it and me not being able to tell them the truth because they would have believed him over me and then I would have gotten bad it when they left. I was terrified to stay the night alone with him afterwords. Needless to say, I left after that and we got a lawyer. After some failed "public visitations" (our lawyer made us try to keep in touch by going to public places to visit him for a few hours every so often), we decided to stay with our mom all the time. Even though it wasn't perfect at least we were safe, or so we thought.

 My mom and sister fought all the time for the reasons I stated before. She was disrespectful and didn't like being told what to do. (BTW at this point we were no longer going to church at all, maybe on Christmas but that was it) My mom was very hard to please though. I would do a head to toe clean of the kitchen while she was at work to surprise her, but instead of being grateful she would find and harp on the one spot that I missed. If she asked my opinion on something and I didn't tell her the opinion that she wanted to hear I would get yelled at. She became extremely controlling. I couldn't go to extracurricular activities at school because I had to walk home from school right away. If I didn't make it home before 4 and call her on the house phone I would be grounded. If I was ever allowed to see a friend I would have to make it up by doing extra work for the next however many weeks and wasn't allowed to go anywhere else but home and school. She wouldn't let me call friends and would check my text messages. She tried isolating me from people.

One day my freshman year my mom and sis got into a huge fight. She kicked my sis out. When she no longer had my sis to take her frustrations out on I got all that negative attention directed at me. She was nasty. Instead of facing her insecurities and admitting she wasn't perfect she would put me down to feel better about herself. To her I was stupid and an idiot, although I got straight As in honors classes. She'd call me fat but then she'd shove food down my throat accusing me of being anorexic. I was ugly and immature and retarded. A moron, not to mention an bitch (and whore- even though I had never even kissed a boy at that point). Anything hurtful she could say she would. Between her negativity and controlling she was successful in isolating me from the world. I would come home from school and lock myself in my room and cry hoping she wouldn't scream my name forcing me to hide my tears and face her. I felt out of control. Like I was going through the motions but hating everyday. It got to the point that I ended up super sick. Slept 20+ hours a day. Didn't eat. Ended up at the hospital (mom thought it was mono) but the tests came back negative. I remember the doc asking if I could be depressed. My mom, offended, replied "no" very quickly. Until then I never thought that I could have been depressed. I needed out. Talked to the few people that I had left in my life and decided running away was my best option. My sis had returned to my dads the previous spring and said it wasn't as bad as it used to be. So one day I ended up back at his house. My mom couldn't know I was leaving-she wouldn't have allowed it- so all I could grab was my backpack and a bag of clothes. Everything else was gone.

Back to God. I thought the world hated me. I would sometimes pray, but I couldn't believe that there was a God because God wouldn't have let me suffer like I had suffered. I didn't not believe in God in fear of there possibly being a God, but I didn't believe in God either. I guess you could say I was Agnostic.

Things at my dads were okay at first. He never could say "I love you" or anything nice though. Still had feelings of not being good enough. If I didn't get dressed up for the day he'd tell me that I look bad or he'd make fun of any blemishes I had and pointed out all my imperfections. I could never talk to him either. If I tried to come to him with a problem I was facing, he'd tell me how his problems were worse. If I needed money for tampons or food, he'd tell me he was broke too. If my sister stole from me and I tried talking to him, he'd tell me that she takes his things too. Anything that I was facing he was going through it worse. So I stopped sharing. It only made me feel more alone and that no one cared.

As I got older boys came into the picture. Of course being young a girl dreams of true love and a perfect boyfriend and marriage and all that jazz. This was especially true for me. I was empty. Was looking for a boy to love me because my parents didn't. I needed that void filled. Not knowing where to go to find fulfillment, of course boys seemed like the right choice. They would love me and make me feel special, right? 1 John 4:8 says, "Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love." Here John says, "God is love," not "love is God." The world (me included at the time) thinks that love is what makes a person feel good and that it's alright to sacrifice moral principles in order to obtain such "love." But that isn't real love, it's selfishness, and God is not that kind of "love." I know now that real love is God and like God, who is holy, just and perfect. Looking back I can't believe how stupid I was.

Anyways I eventually started dating this guy when I was 16 and a half. He really didn't treat me well, but I hung on because his family loved me and I loved him for that. They were the loving family that I didn't have. We dated for over a year actually. That's besides the point, but as our relationship progressed my dad got worse realizing that he was losing control as I was growing older-not like I disobeyed, he just didn't want me to love anyone besides him. If anyone ever came into my life that I loved and that loved me he would try to forbid me from being around them. He wanted to be the only one we loved. About 11 months into our relationship I came home from doing homework and for whatever reason my dad was in a bad mood that day. I can't remember why, but he started yelling at me and I just kept apologizing and stated that I wanted to go to bed because I was tired. After apologizing again I tried to go to my room. He flung me around by my backpack and as I fell I had a flashback to that night with my sis in 6th grade. I tried to make it to the door to leave because I didn't feel safe and he caught me in a corner and pushed me up against the wall screaming in my face and pushing me. I started shaking uncontrollably and had a major panic attack. He eventually let me go and I remember locking myself in the bathroom for the night out of fear because I didn't trust him to not hurt me. Cried myself in and out of sleep. I was such a nervous wreck. Ended up talking to children's services/ the police to try to be able to move out  because I was so depressed and such a mental basket case. I couldn't take walking on eggshells anymore. I was numb to everything. The police couldn't do anything because I didn't have the crap beat out of me. They don't do anything for mental abuse, so I was stuck. During this time I wanted to be able to feel something, feel loved. Sadly I ended up giving myself away to that boy. Besides I wanted, needed to feel loved. I wanted to feel like I had control of something because I felt helpless everywhere else in my life. It was a poor lack of judgement. One of my many unsaved regrets. Thank God that by finding Him I repented and have been forgiven of my sin. A beautiful thought actually.

I ended up graduating high school my dad stopped talking to me and locked me out of the house. I was terrified to go back because I knew he had to be upset for whatever reason and I felt so unsafe going back alone, so I didn't go back. I was able to break in to get some of my belongings but what didn't fit in my car was left behind. We haven't talked since.

I spent that summer at my mom's working the night shift at Wendys. I worked with mostly guys and they all partied and did drugs. They accepted me into their "group" and I ended up spending a fair amount of that summer smoking weed and drinking, not getting hammered, but a few drinks here and there and a lot of weed. Just wanted to forget everything and honestly I liked feeling like I fit in with those guys. They accepted me for me and so I would smoke with them. Silly, I know, but I had a void and they temporarily filled it, so I thuoght. One night they got some weed from their normal dealer, but I think it was laced or something. I had one hit, which by that time was nothing, and I started feeling really weird. Started shaking uncontrollably and thought I was going to die. It was terrifying. Even though I didn't know it at the time, God was with me. He didn't let me die and at that moment I vowed to never smoke weed again. My couple months smoking had ended and I haven't touched it since.

Meanwhile I was going to school. Even though I didn't know God I was always fascinated with religion. I took multiple world religions classes and classes on specific religions. I actually wanted to minor in religion, strange I know. I guess part of me knew what I was missing, I just wasn't ready to accept Christ yet. Was still skeptical on why he would let so much terrible stuff happen to me when I wasn't a terrible person. I've really only said bad stuff about me, so let me clarify. Even in my moments of weakness and temptation I would always go out of my way to put others before me and help them out and volunteer. I consider myself a "good person" despite my flaws. After my studies I viewed religion as more of a moral standard for treating people well kind of thing, not a relationship with Jesus Christ.

I ended up getting my STNA certification that spring and began working in a nursing home. The sweetest 94 year old lady ended up getting admitted in the fall/winter of 2011. I don't even remember what caused her to ask me, but one day she asked if I would pray with her (she was hardcore Catholic).  Even though I really wasn't religious and it made me a bit uncomfortable I had learned that you NEVER tell an old lady no, so we prayed. It became a nightly thing. I couldn't leave without praying with her. I started going to church with my cousin on occasion and was starting to enjoy all of it. However my home life was still rough so I was still struggling with depression. My mom would come into my room and glare at me then walk out. She ignored me when I greeted her and made it known that although she didn't want me to move out, she didn't want me living with her. She made comments about how she wishes she had family close by right in front of me, as if I wasn't family to her. I felt stuck. To make matters worse she would go on vacation and party. Come home talking about the guys she met at bars, the drinks, nude beaches... and she would bring home random men with my 3 little sibs (from her 2nd marriage) home. It was alright for her to do that in front of me, but totally unacceptable for her to introduce my sibs to that. Not to mention I didn't feel safe around these guys... Just got a bad vibe from them.

At barely 19 I had saved up enough to buy my own car and I ended up getting an apartment. I waited as long as possible to tell my mom about moving because I was already going through hell at home and I knew that it would make it worse if she knew in advance that I was leaving and I was scared she would boot me out before I was able to move in. My sister had known about me moving and was happy because she knew it would be good for me to get away from all the madness of my family. Finally the day came to tell my mom and she flipped. With a lot more swear words in it, she sat me down to tell me how immature and irresponsible I was. How I was going to fail and she wouldn't care or help me when I did. How I was stupid and a lot more negative things. I could have easily disagreed with her statements, but instead I sat back, biting my tongue with tear filled eyes as I got yelled at and my sister who was previously happy for me now sat before me telling me how horrible I was. My mom told my siblings that I didn't love them and was running away. She built hate up in them so she would be glorified and me made to be the bad guy. She hasn't talked to me since...

Finally it came time to move. My stuff was thrown on the lawn and I  had to move it by myself to my new, empty apartment. I had no furniture, no family, no food or household items, nothing. At this point I was not only praying with the lady at work every night, but I was also praying on my own, despite not really knowing how to. As I sat on my air mattress-the only thing in my place-and looked around I realized that I was alone, but I was provided for. I had a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and even though I didn't have much money for groceries I always had food in my stomach. That's when I realized that I didn't overcome all of my obstacles to get to this point by myself. This is not when I accepted Christ into my heart, but it is when I wanted to learn more. I started trying a lot harder to go to church with my cousin and praying more.

At that point I was helping teach labs at the community college. The one teacher I helped was a Christian, now she's my sister. One day I felt like I needed to hug her and give her my number because I could tell she was having a rough time with some things. She knew I went to church sometimes, but still wasn't fulfilled. By the end of the semester we had become friends and she ended up needing surgery. I was off work that day because I had a job interview so I made sure to visit her after, again just a gut feeling, plus I brought her goodies! She knew my church situation so she invited me to her church sometime if I wanted to go. I was a bit nervous, but I took her up on the offer. The following week was Father's day and that's the Sunday I first went to my church. I walked in and got lots of hugs! Then during fellowship I had strangers telling me they loved me, which was so bizarre because I could tell they meant it with all their heart, something that my parents couldn't even do. That was just the start. Pastor's message was all about how to be a good dad. I don't remember all of that stuff but the one thing that I do remember and will never forget is when he read Psalm 27:10- "Even if my father and mother abandon me, the Lord cares for me." Took every fiber of my being not to ball my eyes out. I knew I had found home.

That's not even the end of my story. I started going to church every Sunday. My void was being filled. My friend continued to guide me along my journey. Her father is a pastor. This past summer they invited me to their house for a bible study that he does every summer. I went for the night and on July 12th of this year her father helped me pray the prayer of salvation and I accepted Christ into my heart. I ended up becoming a member of my church and got baptized on September 30th. I loved going to church and prayed all week long, but sitting at home alone (well with the dog that I had rescued) I still felt alone at times. I didn't have family and I just felt like something was still missing. All I could do was pray about it that maybe someone could come into my life or something to get rid of that feeling.

About two months ago, maybe longer I was feeling especially lonely. Just heartbroken that my parents would be so cold and heartless to me. That they just didn't care. Even though I was WAY better off where I was, the past still hurt. I ended up sobbing for hours, praying the entire time. Pleading to God asking why he would let everything happen to me that he did. Begging him to heal my scars because even though I was way better off I still had deep wounds from my parents that just weren't fixed yet. At about 6am after hours of crying I felt God reach down and hold me and he told me to surround myself in Him. That gave me peace and I stopped crying. It was like a brick hit me in the face telling me the secret to happiness.

My next paycheck I ended up with extra money for once so I went to the Christian bookstore to find scripture and pictures to surround myself with God. I started reaching out more to everyone at church, making an effort to surround myself with Godly people. I ended up joining the choir and the outreach ministry. I started going to two Bible studies that are offered and tried to help with anything possible! I started reading my Bible everyday and finding every way to get as close to God as possible! With each step I took to get closer to God and surround myself with Him, I found the void in my heart being filled. Soon I'm going to be helping in the children's church and I am even starting a cookie ministry next month to use my baking talents to glorify God and share his love with others. And you know what? By fully surrounding myself COMPLETELY with GOD, for the first time ever in my life I FOUND TRUE HAPPINESS. My heart is so full of God's love that it actually hurts sometimes, in a good way of course. His love is overflowing in me, so now I can truly share it with others. That's one way that God is using me now. I'm not a confrontational person or anything, but lately he's enabled me to be able to shed his love onto others! I've given so many strangers hugs or asked them if they've needed help with something, listened to their problems. Then when they compliment me all I can say is "I'm not wonderful, I just have God's love and I want to share it," or something to that extent. When people see your true joy and a genuinely caring heart they want to know why you're like that. It gives you the perfect opportunity to tell them about God and I've tried my best to do that!

I'm sorry for the extremely long post. I guess what I want to say with all of this is that even if you come from a bad situation or have sinned greatly or are alone, God is there. Even when you don't see signs of  Him or think He's not there let me tell you, He is! Looking back on my life, every missed opportunity, every hardship, every tear I only suffered because God had something better planned. I mean look at me! I went from absolutely nothing to having everything! I have a great job, a nice apartment, a loving puppy, an amazing church family! I thought I was going to be alone this Christmas, but God made sure I wasn't! He provides with abundance! He watched out for me and had numerous people invite me over to spend the day with them. Such a blessing! Even with all the good He has done, to this day my faith is tested! A couple weeks ago my bank account somehow got overdrawn. I prayed saying I don't know why you're doing this, but I trust in your plan and I know you will provide for me even if it's not at the moment that I want you to provide for me. That day I checked my mail and had a check for $100 waiting for me. I cried! God is SOOO good. In every bad situation there is something good. My family is no longer in my life for my sanity and well being, but God has blessed me with an amazing church family and they love me and I love them. Something that never happened at home. I could go on and on about how great God is, but I should probably end this, so let me just say thank you for reading this. I really really really hope that it can help you realize that you are NOT alone and God is always there for you. If you are struggling with something, it's only because He has something better for you! I'm living proof! Thanks for reading and God bless y'all! I love you dearly!