Finding Jesus I was not raised in a Christian household. In fact my family was about as far as you could get. My mother was an “earth based spiritualist” as she would say… witchcraft in reality. And my stepfather was atheist but really hated Christians. I had a lot of experience with spells and tarot cards, the black book and all sorts of a occult activities.
My biological mother was the main instigator in the alternative lifestyle that we were exposed to. She was very against church and Christians in general. She would always tell me stories about how judgmental and terrible Christians are.
As children we drank at home, smoke cigarettes and smoked marijuana all the time. We even had family poker nights. I started smoking age 9 and drinking around 12 years old. My mother smoked so together we would smoke like girlfriends in high school. My mother never encouraged me to do much and even allowed my boyfriend who was 10 years older than me to move into the house. I was 15 and he was 25. He was also in Nevada corrections but she didn’t care she bailed him out so he could come live with us. This is getting way off track, let me get back on point.
I was not raised in a religious household. I walked down a path in my youth that put me very close to the devil. When I was saved I was living in a home dedicated to devil worship. I did not see it that way at the time, because I was so naïve. I didn’t realize that people you love weren’t supposed to treat you as a slave and beat you while saying they love you. For those of you who might’ve guessed this was a BDSM alternative lifestyle household. I was supposed to be a slave in their house. My uncle had brought me there two days after my 18th birthday and left me.
I had to been there a little over year when the man who is now my husband met me by chance on a train. I generally wasn’t allowed to leave the state but I was working as a model and had a job in California. I needed to travel for work otherwise I never would’ve been on a train. Today I would probably be dead.
But I met him. And he said “let’s go this way.” And I followed. And my life will never be the same.
This man is a Christian. He realized when we met the potential inside of me. He listened to me and cared for me. I could see this love in his eyes as I told him about my life. Remembering it I get emotional because no one, especially not a man, had ever shown me the concern on his face. I could tell that he really cared whether or not I lived or died or what I’ve been through.
He told me that day that I should write so that other young women wouldn’t feel so alone. Perhaps by writing, over time, I can help save other people. And isn’t that the true meaning of being a Christian?
Obviously there are a lot of other details that go into the telling of the story. When I tell my testimony I just want to say it’s never too late. Even if you think you are the darkest most evil person, Jesus can find a way. He already has. We are our own worst judges. When you feel hopeless, that is the devil trying to destroy you just remember… We win! Don’t allow him to tell you otherwise. He is a dirty liar. All of us have done bad things but to God no sin is unforgivable.
So I would just want to end by saying I give my whole self to God knowing that he put me through the challenges I have been through so that I can give him the glory. He wants me to share the most humiliating parts of myself to glorify him. I will not be ashamed of the things in my past. I will be proud to be saved. I am proud! Thank you Jesus.