I need to start by saying that this may be hard for some to read, my story has many painful experiences. I have tried to not be graphic and I apologize if anything offends, it surely isn't meant to. It is my prayer that someplace in my story someone is given strength for another day, and most importantly to know the Loving hand of God even through the worst of lifes trials. I know this is going to end up real long too, but I don't know how to make it short.
My dad was an atheist, actualy his god might have been the TV, mom seamed to be a different religion every month trying to find spiritual "wellness", but always dismissed Christianity because dad said it was the trash heap of all religions. Mom took me all over, I seen about everything from animal sacrifices to self torture and stuff I don't even know how to describe. Dad just basically stayed home in front of the TV and smoked his cigarettes and drank his whiskey.
Both of them was killed when our car was hit by a train when I was 13. Dad went around the crossing gates and the next thing I knew I was spinning. When I finally stopped the front half of the car wasn't in front of me and my jeans was soaked in blood. I tried to unbuckle my seat belt but couldn't get it loose. I believe God kept me from unbuckling. The doctors told me that if I had unbuckled and tried to stand up I probably would not have been able to have ever stood up again as the remains of my bones would have crumbled. The damage to my legs was enormous and the bills resulting took every dime that came from the selling of my dad's business. It was 8 days after the accident that I was finally told that mom and dad was both killed instantly in the wreck. Surgery was my middle name and I knew the hospital staff by their first names and could tell you who worked what days and what shifts, their kids names their dog and their favorite sport or hobby.
Pappa was the only relation I had left so he agreed to take me in and see that I got to my doctors appointments and such. He raised me by himself until his passing when I was 16. Pappa was quite a character, he despised Christians and used to tell me the whole bunch of them should be shot. I figured out real fast who my dad took after as pappa liked the same brand of whiskey but prefered cigars with his TV. Pappa wasn't much of a cook, but we never went hungry and I always had a warm bed to sleep in. When Pappa died my best friends mom took custody of me since I was only 16. Before pappas passing away, I had already had a total of 32 surgeries on my legs and was scheduled for my next one the day we buried him.
When I got out of the hospital I went to my new home with my best friends mom and her. The first week was cool, it was almost like a slumber party every night. The fact I was with my best friend and the way she makes me laugh helped a lot in me getting through the passing of my pappa. Then it happened, Sunday morning came and mom (what I now call my best friends mom, I sort of adopted her) woke us up at 7am. I thought she was nuts. This was Sunday not a weekday, but she told me we was going to church. I had completely forgotten that my friend was a christian! I tried to make excuses, but mom wouldn't hear it. She told me that there wasn't a lot of rules for living in her home, but there was a few and the biggest one was that everyone will attend church. I drug my feet (pun intended) bad, got up real slow, washed real slow, then couldn't find any "church" clothes. That is when my friend gave me a pretty pink dress to wear. I had never had a dress on in my whole life I don't think, at least it was long and covered my legs and braces. Any ways I finally got dressed and we headed off for church. I think mom drove 150mph to get to the church, we was late and she made it known that it was not acceptable.
When we finally made it to the church, they was already singing and you could hear it out in the parking lot. We went to go in and then my worse fear was realized. My making us late meant I had to walk in in front of all those people. I turned around and started going the other way. Mom on one side and my best friend on the other took a hold of me and nearly drug me into the church. Then it got worse, when they opened the doors the entire church had hard wood floors. See I don't walk very well since the train wreck. I have to throw my weight to get my left leg to swing forward then my right leg gets drug behind. Add to this the fact the shoes I had to wear back then was hard souled, so walking on that old hardwood floor just made it worse yet as it doubled the sound. CLOP SHWOOP, CLOP SHWOOP, CLOP SHWOOP it was loud enough they stopped singing to see what kind of monster just came into their church. I was so embarrassed! The church was full as well and the only seats available was the front row! So there I went clop shwoop clop shwoop all the way to the front to be planted in that pew between my best friend and my new mom.
That day was the first time I had ever heard the gospel. I firmly rejected it, I knew what I had been taught and I knew I wouldn't change my mind.
The next week came and I didn't let any grass grow under my feet this time. I was ready in a flash. I was pushing for mom and my best friend to get going, see it wasn't that I wanted to go to church, but i wanted to be first so I could be first in and take the last pew.
I continued pushing to get there early and it usually worked. In fact I did this for just a little more than a year and only missed one service but that was because I hadn't been released from the hospital due to a fever after a surgery. I think every member from that church came to see me that Sunday afternoon though, I was so embarrassed, they all wanted to hold my hand and pray for me. If they only had known what I was thinking they would have been shocked to say the least. (Today I look back and am glad I had those prayers)
Well after that time of just over a year and attending basically every service, something happened. Well let me back up, That morning was just like every other Sunday. Got there early took my place in the back row and folded my arms hoping no one would want to shake my hand. They sang their songs, told all of their announcements, took their offering, then the preacher got up and started preaching. I couldn't tell you what he preached about, but something was happening inside me. It wasn't anything the preacher said or nothing, it was like someone was whispering in my ear, only on the inside. That voice told me of how much I was loved and how it wanted the best for me in every part of my life... Well then before I knew what I was doing, I was on my feet in the aisle and there I went clop shwooping all the way down the aisle. The preacher was in the middle of his sermon, my best friend tried to reach out and grab my arm but missed. Every eye was on me, when I finally stopped up front and pronounced that I wanted to except Jesus as my savior. The silence was deafening, then the roar of amens and praise God was just about enough to make your eardrums burst. I can't bend my knees, but I dropped and fell flat on my face. Blood gooshing from my nose. I was crying and thanking Jesus for saving me. That old hardwood floor is still stained today from my bloody nose. You know that preacher never did finish that sermon... It was the day after my 18th birthday that I was reborn...
Well I was 18 now and with all the in and outs of the hospital I was still in high school for one more year. That was a long year only to get longer. See I was staying after school a couple nights a week and getting help with a couple subjects by a real nice teacher. She gave of her time for free, and really tried to help me along to be able to graduate. Well one day after school I met with her and then she got a phone call telling her that her son had just been in a car wreck. She told me what happened and I told her to go I would be fine. That wasn't quite true. Mom was going to pick me up that evening so I had about an hours wait. During that hour I just sat out on the bench in front of the school. That is when two guys stopped, they both had halloween masks on and kept calling me a crippled (bad word). I so wanted to run but couldn't, they grabbed me and I fought for all I was worth but they put me in the back seat of the car. They both raped me and took turns beating me that night and left me on the side of a country road for dead. God had other ideas.
A fisherman who was on his way to the river found me beaten and in pretty bad shape. He loaded me up into his truck with such a tender and gentle touch, he then rushed me to the hospital. When I got to the hospital the second nightmare started. They ran tests on me and all kinds of stuff, collected evidence, kept my clothes, police questioning me over and over. They eventually found the car which was stolen but not the guys. I was still young in my faith and I started really doubting my salvation, how could God let this happen! I forgot the fact that God had sent that fisherman to find me... The fact is I remember his tender touch and the sound of his old truck, but can not rember what he looked like. I have often wondered about him.
Three months later I was at a regular doctors appointment and told the doctor I had not been feeling real well, been sick a lot and stuff. He did some tests and found I was pregnant. Mom stood with me and said she would help me with the baby and I could stay with her for as long as I needed. Well when I was 4 months along we found out there was three babies not one. The doctor put me on bed rest and there I layed forever, or so it seamed. I spent a lot of time reading the word, searching for answers. I was 5 months along when they told me two of the babies no longer had heart beats. The next week they said the third had also passed away. I was so mixed up inside, I had people telling me that this was a blessing, especially since the pregnancy was from a rape. Others kept telling me it was for the best because of my condition. I wanted those little babies, regardless of the situation. That was my first two boys and my first daughter. Mom held me many many nights as I cried. One night as I cried in her arms, she pulled my face up and looked into my teary eyes and told me of her 4 miscarriages. How much it hurt and how she had to deal with those losses. I also found out that night my best friend was the product of a rape.
With all the bed rest and trama of the rape and pregnancy I did not get to graduate. So I went and took the test and got my GED. Then I went and applied for college and somehow got excepted. Mom let me live with her, even though my best friend was off at a out of state school. Mom was a real blessing, something that words just can not relate. Firm and mushy all at the same time and a real encouragement to say the least.
It was my second year in college that I met my husband. He was so sweet. He was heavily involved in campus ministries and was well respected too. Life was good and I was in love for the first time in my life. I will never forget the one day he stopped by the house, I was just chilling out and taking it easy when mom let him in. He came around to sit next to me on the couch and that is the first time he had seen my legs. I was wearing shorts, I never wore shorts out in public, his face started changing colors he grabbed his mouth then ran outside and tossed his cookies all over moms flower bed. He had such a weak stomach. We dated for just about three years before he popped the question. I immediately said yes. My best friend came home from college and helped me arrange my wedding, mom "walked" me down he aisle and I married the man of my dreams. Oh and yes he was eventually able to stand the sight of my legs but a few meals I cooked early on caused him problems... LOL
I missed the security of living with mom, it was when I left to be a wife that I found out how much mom really meant to me. My husband was great though, he really tried to pick up where I wasn't able. Sometimes literally as I can't pick things up off the floor without a lot of difficulty, he never complained.
Two years after we got married I found out we was expecting. We was both so happy. Then in the third month I miscarried the twins. Neither of them had developed correctly and once again I was dealing with well meaning people telling me how much of a blessing it was. My husband was ripped up by this and fell away from the Lord for a while. I never knew where he went or what he was doing but for a solid year, he would just disappear. I was a mess, and I thought my marriage was over.
One day my husband came and picked my up, said we had to go. This is the first time since the miscarriage that he and I went any where together. He took me out into the country, no houses or people any place. I kept thinking what's he going to do kill me leave me here? He helped me over the rough ground and down this trail, there sat a little wood bench over looking a creek, it was truly beautiful. He sat me down and explained that this is where he had been going. He said he would go here and pray and cry and scream at God. He said it was here that when he finally shut up and was still God told him that he hadn't just lost two babies, but he was losing his wife and his faith. He told me he instantly repented and went to get me to bring me here as well. God reunited us that day.
We ended up building a small 4 room cabin on that property and lived there very happily, God had renewed our love for each other and for Him.
Two years later we had twins, one boy and one girl. My husband was at work, it was the fourth of July. Someone had been setting off fireworks on and off all night, and along about midnight I smelled smoke. I got up and looked for what was burning, checked on my babies but did not find anything wrong. I stepped out the front door and seen the trees glowing from the fire on our roof. I turned and went in to get the babies. On the way I dialed 911 and just said help fire and left the phone dangling. When I opened their room I found flames and smoke so thick I couldn't see their cribs. I went in but ended up falling. When the fire trucks got there I was unconscious on the floor of my babies room. The firemen pulled me out and my two precious babies.
I learned at the hospital that my babies died of smoke inhalation.
(I guess I have to post it in two pieces)
My dad was an atheist, actualy his god might have been the TV, mom seamed to be a different religion every month trying to find spiritual "wellness", but always dismissed Christianity because dad said it was the trash heap of all religions. Mom took me all over, I seen about everything from animal sacrifices to self torture and stuff I don't even know how to describe. Dad just basically stayed home in front of the TV and smoked his cigarettes and drank his whiskey.
Both of them was killed when our car was hit by a train when I was 13. Dad went around the crossing gates and the next thing I knew I was spinning. When I finally stopped the front half of the car wasn't in front of me and my jeans was soaked in blood. I tried to unbuckle my seat belt but couldn't get it loose. I believe God kept me from unbuckling. The doctors told me that if I had unbuckled and tried to stand up I probably would not have been able to have ever stood up again as the remains of my bones would have crumbled. The damage to my legs was enormous and the bills resulting took every dime that came from the selling of my dad's business. It was 8 days after the accident that I was finally told that mom and dad was both killed instantly in the wreck. Surgery was my middle name and I knew the hospital staff by their first names and could tell you who worked what days and what shifts, their kids names their dog and their favorite sport or hobby.
Pappa was the only relation I had left so he agreed to take me in and see that I got to my doctors appointments and such. He raised me by himself until his passing when I was 16. Pappa was quite a character, he despised Christians and used to tell me the whole bunch of them should be shot. I figured out real fast who my dad took after as pappa liked the same brand of whiskey but prefered cigars with his TV. Pappa wasn't much of a cook, but we never went hungry and I always had a warm bed to sleep in. When Pappa died my best friends mom took custody of me since I was only 16. Before pappas passing away, I had already had a total of 32 surgeries on my legs and was scheduled for my next one the day we buried him.
When I got out of the hospital I went to my new home with my best friends mom and her. The first week was cool, it was almost like a slumber party every night. The fact I was with my best friend and the way she makes me laugh helped a lot in me getting through the passing of my pappa. Then it happened, Sunday morning came and mom (what I now call my best friends mom, I sort of adopted her) woke us up at 7am. I thought she was nuts. This was Sunday not a weekday, but she told me we was going to church. I had completely forgotten that my friend was a christian! I tried to make excuses, but mom wouldn't hear it. She told me that there wasn't a lot of rules for living in her home, but there was a few and the biggest one was that everyone will attend church. I drug my feet (pun intended) bad, got up real slow, washed real slow, then couldn't find any "church" clothes. That is when my friend gave me a pretty pink dress to wear. I had never had a dress on in my whole life I don't think, at least it was long and covered my legs and braces. Any ways I finally got dressed and we headed off for church. I think mom drove 150mph to get to the church, we was late and she made it known that it was not acceptable.
When we finally made it to the church, they was already singing and you could hear it out in the parking lot. We went to go in and then my worse fear was realized. My making us late meant I had to walk in in front of all those people. I turned around and started going the other way. Mom on one side and my best friend on the other took a hold of me and nearly drug me into the church. Then it got worse, when they opened the doors the entire church had hard wood floors. See I don't walk very well since the train wreck. I have to throw my weight to get my left leg to swing forward then my right leg gets drug behind. Add to this the fact the shoes I had to wear back then was hard souled, so walking on that old hardwood floor just made it worse yet as it doubled the sound. CLOP SHWOOP, CLOP SHWOOP, CLOP SHWOOP it was loud enough they stopped singing to see what kind of monster just came into their church. I was so embarrassed! The church was full as well and the only seats available was the front row! So there I went clop shwoop clop shwoop all the way to the front to be planted in that pew between my best friend and my new mom.
That day was the first time I had ever heard the gospel. I firmly rejected it, I knew what I had been taught and I knew I wouldn't change my mind.
The next week came and I didn't let any grass grow under my feet this time. I was ready in a flash. I was pushing for mom and my best friend to get going, see it wasn't that I wanted to go to church, but i wanted to be first so I could be first in and take the last pew.
I continued pushing to get there early and it usually worked. In fact I did this for just a little more than a year and only missed one service but that was because I hadn't been released from the hospital due to a fever after a surgery. I think every member from that church came to see me that Sunday afternoon though, I was so embarrassed, they all wanted to hold my hand and pray for me. If they only had known what I was thinking they would have been shocked to say the least. (Today I look back and am glad I had those prayers)
Well after that time of just over a year and attending basically every service, something happened. Well let me back up, That morning was just like every other Sunday. Got there early took my place in the back row and folded my arms hoping no one would want to shake my hand. They sang their songs, told all of their announcements, took their offering, then the preacher got up and started preaching. I couldn't tell you what he preached about, but something was happening inside me. It wasn't anything the preacher said or nothing, it was like someone was whispering in my ear, only on the inside. That voice told me of how much I was loved and how it wanted the best for me in every part of my life... Well then before I knew what I was doing, I was on my feet in the aisle and there I went clop shwooping all the way down the aisle. The preacher was in the middle of his sermon, my best friend tried to reach out and grab my arm but missed. Every eye was on me, when I finally stopped up front and pronounced that I wanted to except Jesus as my savior. The silence was deafening, then the roar of amens and praise God was just about enough to make your eardrums burst. I can't bend my knees, but I dropped and fell flat on my face. Blood gooshing from my nose. I was crying and thanking Jesus for saving me. That old hardwood floor is still stained today from my bloody nose. You know that preacher never did finish that sermon... It was the day after my 18th birthday that I was reborn...
Well I was 18 now and with all the in and outs of the hospital I was still in high school for one more year. That was a long year only to get longer. See I was staying after school a couple nights a week and getting help with a couple subjects by a real nice teacher. She gave of her time for free, and really tried to help me along to be able to graduate. Well one day after school I met with her and then she got a phone call telling her that her son had just been in a car wreck. She told me what happened and I told her to go I would be fine. That wasn't quite true. Mom was going to pick me up that evening so I had about an hours wait. During that hour I just sat out on the bench in front of the school. That is when two guys stopped, they both had halloween masks on and kept calling me a crippled (bad word). I so wanted to run but couldn't, they grabbed me and I fought for all I was worth but they put me in the back seat of the car. They both raped me and took turns beating me that night and left me on the side of a country road for dead. God had other ideas.
A fisherman who was on his way to the river found me beaten and in pretty bad shape. He loaded me up into his truck with such a tender and gentle touch, he then rushed me to the hospital. When I got to the hospital the second nightmare started. They ran tests on me and all kinds of stuff, collected evidence, kept my clothes, police questioning me over and over. They eventually found the car which was stolen but not the guys. I was still young in my faith and I started really doubting my salvation, how could God let this happen! I forgot the fact that God had sent that fisherman to find me... The fact is I remember his tender touch and the sound of his old truck, but can not rember what he looked like. I have often wondered about him.
Three months later I was at a regular doctors appointment and told the doctor I had not been feeling real well, been sick a lot and stuff. He did some tests and found I was pregnant. Mom stood with me and said she would help me with the baby and I could stay with her for as long as I needed. Well when I was 4 months along we found out there was three babies not one. The doctor put me on bed rest and there I layed forever, or so it seamed. I spent a lot of time reading the word, searching for answers. I was 5 months along when they told me two of the babies no longer had heart beats. The next week they said the third had also passed away. I was so mixed up inside, I had people telling me that this was a blessing, especially since the pregnancy was from a rape. Others kept telling me it was for the best because of my condition. I wanted those little babies, regardless of the situation. That was my first two boys and my first daughter. Mom held me many many nights as I cried. One night as I cried in her arms, she pulled my face up and looked into my teary eyes and told me of her 4 miscarriages. How much it hurt and how she had to deal with those losses. I also found out that night my best friend was the product of a rape.
With all the bed rest and trama of the rape and pregnancy I did not get to graduate. So I went and took the test and got my GED. Then I went and applied for college and somehow got excepted. Mom let me live with her, even though my best friend was off at a out of state school. Mom was a real blessing, something that words just can not relate. Firm and mushy all at the same time and a real encouragement to say the least.
It was my second year in college that I met my husband. He was so sweet. He was heavily involved in campus ministries and was well respected too. Life was good and I was in love for the first time in my life. I will never forget the one day he stopped by the house, I was just chilling out and taking it easy when mom let him in. He came around to sit next to me on the couch and that is the first time he had seen my legs. I was wearing shorts, I never wore shorts out in public, his face started changing colors he grabbed his mouth then ran outside and tossed his cookies all over moms flower bed. He had such a weak stomach. We dated for just about three years before he popped the question. I immediately said yes. My best friend came home from college and helped me arrange my wedding, mom "walked" me down he aisle and I married the man of my dreams. Oh and yes he was eventually able to stand the sight of my legs but a few meals I cooked early on caused him problems... LOL
I missed the security of living with mom, it was when I left to be a wife that I found out how much mom really meant to me. My husband was great though, he really tried to pick up where I wasn't able. Sometimes literally as I can't pick things up off the floor without a lot of difficulty, he never complained.
Two years after we got married I found out we was expecting. We was both so happy. Then in the third month I miscarried the twins. Neither of them had developed correctly and once again I was dealing with well meaning people telling me how much of a blessing it was. My husband was ripped up by this and fell away from the Lord for a while. I never knew where he went or what he was doing but for a solid year, he would just disappear. I was a mess, and I thought my marriage was over.
One day my husband came and picked my up, said we had to go. This is the first time since the miscarriage that he and I went any where together. He took me out into the country, no houses or people any place. I kept thinking what's he going to do kill me leave me here? He helped me over the rough ground and down this trail, there sat a little wood bench over looking a creek, it was truly beautiful. He sat me down and explained that this is where he had been going. He said he would go here and pray and cry and scream at God. He said it was here that when he finally shut up and was still God told him that he hadn't just lost two babies, but he was losing his wife and his faith. He told me he instantly repented and went to get me to bring me here as well. God reunited us that day.
We ended up building a small 4 room cabin on that property and lived there very happily, God had renewed our love for each other and for Him.
Two years later we had twins, one boy and one girl. My husband was at work, it was the fourth of July. Someone had been setting off fireworks on and off all night, and along about midnight I smelled smoke. I got up and looked for what was burning, checked on my babies but did not find anything wrong. I stepped out the front door and seen the trees glowing from the fire on our roof. I turned and went in to get the babies. On the way I dialed 911 and just said help fire and left the phone dangling. When I opened their room I found flames and smoke so thick I couldn't see their cribs. I went in but ended up falling. When the fire trucks got there I was unconscious on the floor of my babies room. The firemen pulled me out and my two precious babies.
I learned at the hospital that my babies died of smoke inhalation.
(I guess I have to post it in two pieces)
