Hell Introduced Me to Jesus

One relationship changed my life forever. One relationship broke my lenses and caused me to wake up for the first time. A series of events in a short amount of time caused me to go on a spiritual journey that I now know saved my life. At thirteen years old I remember crying in the corner of my empty bedroom. I had my first real authentic moment with God. I was alone and desperate, I knew I couldn’t take my life, so I went to the only one I figured could help me understand the mess. I’ll never forget that conversation, through the tears and loneliness I cried out “God if you are real, I need you to show me. I need to know why I’m here because there must be more to life than all this hurt. If you are real, I need you to show me. I need you to help me, I cannot do this anymore.” I accepted God into my heart at an early age in the gym of my childhood elementary school Coston Elementary. Mrs. Mary was one God used early on to make me aware of his existence. When I think of those after school days it’s caused a smile on my face knowing he was always in my story watching over and protecting me, even when it felt like no one knew or saw. God wasn’t mentioned in my home much. Church wasn’t a constant, but for some reason it’s like God made a way for me to know he existed, well before I understood who he would be in my life. So that day in my bedroom didn’t feel strange. It was my first break through. I needed the God that I had heard about to become real and evident in my life. And honestly after that day I made a promise to myself that as I grew older, I would never have that level of hurt in my heart again. I knew that if I survived long enough to move out on my own, nothing and I mean NOTHING would ever have the power to break me like that season again. I’m amazed that at thirteen I began my countdown of how many years I had until eighteen. That was my hope. Five years didn’t seem too bad to endure the hell I had lived in for so long. God shielded my mind, and it’s the strong mind that I have today that has been his protection in my life. I’ve always had the ability to see my way through to the other side even when there was no proof or evidence that better days would come. For me “faith” was the only way. But again, I didn’t know that’s what it was. For me it was just survival. Through a series of many events things got better and worse. It was my mind and my ability to work and process my pain that saved my life. It was the ability to understand that the adults in my life didn’t have it together. It was the ability to realize that my mom was too broken and destroyed to know what was best for me. I realized that if she could not make the best choices for herself, then her flawed view was stopping her from making the best decisions for me as well. I learned to have grace. I learned that adults don’t have their ish together and in return destroy the lives of those who have no choice but to be drug along. My mind was always more mature than my years. I had wisdom about things, I could not understand; and for me it just came naturally. I was the daughter that looked at the woman who birthed me, and wished I could give her my inner knowing. I often wondered why my mom consistently made dumb choices. I wondered how stupid a person could be, to know the truth of a thing and to keep walking back into it with a new expectation. I wondered why she was the person raising me. I often felt sorry because being on the outside looking in, it just made so much sense to me that it would be easier to just walk away. To leave the abusive cycled relationship. To leave the cheating and the disrespect. To leave the false love cycled patters. And in my feeling sorry I picked up hate over the years. Hate was all I had left to gain from the toxic environment. Hate became my breath. Hate felt good to me at a time in life. I lived and thrived as best as one could. I became hard and cold. I was defensive, but to me it was just WHO I was, and honestly, I had no reason to change. I had no reason to soften up. I had no reason to let new people in. People got me nowhere, and the only thing they added was more hurt and pain. Although I didn’t pray much that I can remember; I know now God was answering. God was working, and I was having to trust and hope in the unseen. As the years and events continued in that toxic home, I adapted. I started looking for the escapes of life. Looking for moments to make things better so that I could take my mind off the reality I was living in. It became easier after a high school relationship started. I was able to finally feel like I had a person just for me. It added difficulties to the already toxic relationship between my mother and I, but to me it was worth it. I honestly thought he was going to be my saving grace. It made those days and nights easier. Having someone to vent to was therapeutic, but at the same time I never really let him in all the way, there was just a part of me that knew some things had to stay hidden.