Well, I don't see anywhere here for testimonies. I'm new, so most of you probably dont know me. I'm going to share a little bit about myself and my testimony.
When I was little, from kindergarten to 2nd grade, I was in a private Christian school. My parents wanted me to have a solid basis in Christianity before they put me in the public schools. In third grade I was transferred to public schools, and then a few weeks into the schoolyear moved again to another public school. I was quiet and didnt have too many friends, but was known quite well both at church and school for working hard to memorize Scripture and arguing with my mom about going to church when she said no. I was the Biblegirl of the class.
Well, I had given my life to God when I was little and was a firm believer. I prayed about everything and never once doubted that God would take care of me. In third grade my great grandfather and my grandfather died. I didnt understand death, so it didn't bother me. We quit going to visit my great grandparents though. Until 8th grade. That year I lost a friend to cancer, I had one "friend" for lack of a better word, who loved to criticize and never helped. And especially criticized my going to church. We went to my great grandparents's house, and for the first time i realized what death was and that he was gone forever. I couldnt cope with it. I had no one who really cared to talk about. And in order to be accepted by the one person who would talk to me, however mean she was, I had given up on God and lost faith and quit going to church.
Well, then I hit high school. I had a clean slate, and I made friends seperate from my one from middle school. I met people who really cared. I was doing ok for a little while, and I was still known as Biblegirl to some. I still went to church and worked on Bible Drill (the memorizing of Scripture and practicing finding verses quickly in competition). Then halfway through 9th grade, something else happened and everything that had been going wrong resurfaced and I got depressed again. I was constantly thinking about suicide. My friends who would listen didn't know what to really do. And what happened then I wouldn't tell anyone, because I was scared and unsure about it and I was ashamed about it. I started to draw cute little puppy dogs that I then placed bubbles above that said "I hate my life." On top of that, I was fighting with my friends more and more, and my middle school buddy was still there criticizing me at every turn.
At the end of ninth grade, one of the boys in my class saw me drawing those puppy dogs. He sat down with me, and having never talked to him before, I told him about everything. Problems in my house, problems with my friend, about the deaths I couldn't cope with, about how I used to want to work in the church but had lost faith because a bunch of bad things kept hitting me and knocking me back down, and everything. Except what was going on then that had shaken me up and brought my depression back. He sat there, neither of us ever having really spoken to the other, and showed me more love and care than any of my friends ever had. When we went to next class, he sat behind me and checked on me again. He could easily have pretended not to notice the dogs and watch the movie like everyone else. There was something different about him though.
Well, I came to know him better, and he tried to help me as much as he could. I waited about three months. The thing that had bothered me for six months stopped with the end of the school year. But two nights before school would start again, I saw signs that it might resurface and I panicked. So I talked to my friend who had helped me before online. I started to talk to him at like 10 that night, and said something was going on in my house and I thought it might be illegal but wasnt sure and at the very least it made me nervous. I told him my dad was doing something. He waited up with me until almost 1 in the morning before it was clear enough of people in my house that I would talk about it. I was scared I would get caught, my dad kept telling me that it was our secret, and if I told my mom would put him out and the family would be broken apart and it would be my fault. I told my friend about all the times my dad had made me pull my pants and underwear down so he could look at me at first. Then later, he would start playfully touching my butt, and he would make me lay down next to him in the bed and leave me trapped there. He would come home early from work and everything so it would just be the two of us there. He had done this for anywhere between 2 and 3 times a week, sometimes more. And he would ask questions about my menstration. I didnt know what he was doing was molestation, and I didnt know it was illegal. My friend told me it was and told me to calm down, to pray and get some sleep. I went and laid down, but sleep was a long way off. And I didn't pray. I was too busy thinking about what I had just done and feeling sick.
Well, about two weeks later my dad was put out of the house. Court things started. Everyone was always bothering me and trying to make sure I was ok. The school psychologist was always pulling me out of class a couple times a week. My grades slipped. I was still confused about what my dad had done and how he was gone. By Thanksgiving, I was really depressed. I felt like everything was my fault. And I cut myself for the first time. Not my wrists, because I didnt want to get caught by my mom. My dads absence with the holiday traditions was too much for me to deal with.I cut my shoulders where my sleeves could cover it. I told my friend that I had started cutting sooner or later. My problem got worse. Cutting became and addiction. Taking pills and wishing for death was quite frequent, I couldnt see the good in anything anymore. My "friends," the one from middle school and a good few others, left me to deal with things on my own and yelled at me for being depressed. My friend who had reported the incident to a guidance counselor when we went back to school was the only one who stuck with me 100% to help try and get me through. He tried to teach me about God and to push me back to him. At the same time, I was making more friends that were ok with cutting and almost encouraged it, and I allowed them to drag me down more. Finally, my friend who had always been there for me, whether I wanted him to be or not, started getting through to me. I tried everything else, and I was getting scared. I started trying to read my Bible again and tried listening to him. What my other friends were encouraging was affecting my relationship with my boyfriend, my family, with God, and my other friends who didnt know how to help. I didnt want to hurt anyone else, so I knew I needed to quit hurting myself. The only person who had offered any advice other than things that involved me hurting myself was the one friend who had helped me from the start. He comforted me as much as he could, and he helped teach me that prayer works. He taught me to have faith and pray. I continued to fall back into my old habits quite frequently though. And I realized I had developed a crush on my friend. But he had a girlfriend and wasnt interested in me except as a friend who needed help. Then they broke up. A couple months later I expressed my real feelings for him and asked him if he'd ever want to go out with me, and how he felt about me. I was crushed for my trouble. And he didnt take care of me like he did. He wasnt there as much. But I went on to camps with my church and he had engrained some things in my brain for me to think about. "Just have faith. Pray. He'll take care of you." Over and over I had been told this. When my dad had ended up in the hospital a couple months after he was put out of our house, he told me that. Every night when he stayed up with me until 2 and 3 am, school night or not, he told me that while I couldnt sleep. When he thought I needed a friendly voice instead of just words sent through an instant messaging thing, he called me and prayed with me and for me on the phone, and told me the same thing. I thought about it and while I was at those camps I decided to go back to God. During those phone calls where he had prayed with me, I was most at peace. At church camps, I was at peace and enjoyed myself. I was going to go back to God.. My friend wasnt there as much to help me, but he had taught me what I needed and I worked at it. I got mad at him for not being there, but I was praying. I got my faith back, and stronger than before. Until my mom beat me and threatened to send me to the psychward. My friend, who hadnt been there in a while, was the one I turned to again. I was crying on the phone and he calmed me, let me cry. He prayed with me again and told me I had been doing better, and reassured me that everything would be ok. After that, he started to keep an eye on me again and we talked a little more. That was about halfway through this past schoolyear.
It's been a year since I made the decision to follow God, even in my hardships. I've developed a relationship with God that is so much stronger than the one I had. I can withstand any storm in life because I have God, and I know this. My friend and I went to dinner last night together because I've been under a little stress again. He still has to reteach me that basic lesson. I just need a reminder now, because I've experienced the results of that. Just have faith. Pray. And He will take care of you. As long as you have faith and ask, He will take care of you, and He will always be there. My house was broken into and my dad is stalking me again. I saw my dad yesterday morning. But I can smile and talk and I'm ok. I know God will take care of things. While we were at dinner, he asked me what happened between me and some of my new friends I had made after the thing with my dad, the ones that had brought me down more. I told him I didnt need that kind of influence in my life and I dont want to walk down that path anymore. And, while I still care about them and pray for them, until I know 100% I'm not going to cave under the temptation to do those things anymore, I don;t want to hang around my friends and I'm going to hang around my new Christian buddies now and him. He gave me a high-five, applause and told me he was proud of me. I know we're just friends and I'm good with that. His opinion still means the world to me though, because he shaped who I am today. I'm happy with myself, and its all thanks to my friend leading me to God again. God really has taken care of everything, and I am eternally grateful to him and I love Him more than anyone else. I want to serve him for the rest of my life, either through working in youth ministry or with preschoolers.
So. Now you have heard my story. Does anyone else have a testimony they would like to share? Or something to praise God for? He is truly great and He has blessed my life since I came back to him, even through trials, and He deserves all our praise.
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