My Testimony... Part 1

God is faithful. God is just. God is merciful. God's grace is sufficient. We are made in the image of God. We are filled with God's righteousness. God's love is never ending. God's love is overwhelming. God's love is reckless.

If you had told me those things when I was 16, I would have laughed in your face. To me this is how I saw it:

God didn't love me. God didn't want me. God saw me unworthy. Was there even a God? if so where had he been my entire life? Why did he let all this bad stuff happen to me? Why didn't he protect me? If I am a child of God, how could he allow such monsterous things to happen to me, his child. But, then again my own parents abused me day in and day out, so maybe thats how children were supposed to be treated, even a child of God....

Fast forward a year later, at seventeen. I was done. Life was too hard. Nothing ever worked out. No family. No friends. No reason to keep on. No one was going to miss me. The life I had lived was not a life worthy of celebrating. The abuse, the loneliness, the depression, the brokenness had finally won me over. I was ready to end my life. I TRIED to end my life. Laying on the ground in the bathroom, crying, pleading, absolutely beyond devastated, ready to end the suffering, the pain, the hurt, I heard a voice. I knew it was not my voice, nor was it a voice I had ever heard before. I heard it, quiet and booming all at the same time. I heard it and the voice said to me "my child, I have never abandoned you nor failed you." Instantly I knew it was him. This God everyone talked about. I knew it, and all of a sudden my life played in my head, all the times I should have been dead, all the times I was hurt, lonely, scared, sad. There was something different though when I replayed those times. I wasn't alone. I saw god's arms around me. He heald me through all the abuse. He cried for my pain as much as I cried for my pain. He was there. Through all of it. He did protect me. He never left me. He protected his child, the best he could. That day changed my life forever.

Now I'm not going to tell you that something magical happened that day. Yes my life changed, but It would be years before I truly surrendered to God.

I had been in and out of church seemingly my entire life. Through every foster home. I heard the word, but I never really believed the word. My entire childhood and early adult years were spent in survival mode. I didn't have time I guess to believe in something so good, when all I saw were things so bad.

Backstory: At the age of 21 I found my biological father. After not seeing or hearing from him for a very long time. My entire being wanted to forgive him for all his wrong doings. But my heart just couldn't. It was too shattered. There had been too much damage done. But, I wanted a relationship with him, I wanted to see if things had truly changed. I wanted to feel the love a father is supposed to have for his daughter. I needed the relationship. Craved the relationship. So I let by gones be by gones and opened myself up to the possibility that this could work. My father and I eventually ended up getting an apartment together with his girlfriend. and my two brothers coming in and out. Things seemed great. BUT there was one problem. My father was still using drugs, and selling drugs. Things hadn't changed as much as he would have liked me to believe. A few years of back and forth with him and his drug addicting ways, I had to make a change. I found myself feeling the same kind of things I felt as a kid. I needed to run. Fast. Far. I needed to get out of there if I ever wanted a chance at a normal life. BUT, here was the problem. Everything I had was wrapped up in that house. My money, my car. I lost a really good job because I couldn't get to work. I started working with my dad's girlfriend Dawn at a Thrift Store owned by the church she attended sometimes. No car, because I lost it too. Walking to work. Barely making ends meet. Sometimes there was no food in the house. How could I be going backwards in life? I dealt with this as a kid. Things were supposed to have been different. But they weren't. It finally came to a point where I needed to leave. So I did. Where was I going? I had no clue because I had no where to go. But I had to leave, and so I did. I slept at the Thrift Store for a few nights. By this time I had slowly started going to the church that owned the thrift store.  My sister and one-year-old nephew would come with me sometimes. I met a lot of great people there. Well, because I was in this certain situation and had nowhere to go, one of the members of the church offered to let me stay in their motor home in the back driveway of the church for a few months until I could figure out what to do. That is how this story of redemtion begins.

I started going to Chester Avenue Community Church when I was 22 years old. I slowly started opening up to the people around me. It was weird at first, everyone was so nice and caring. Why? I hadn't ever experienced that kind of acceptance. Especially at a church. I'd been to many churches in my life. Most of them were full of judgemental people with their noses stuck up in the air. But something kept pulling me back to CACC. I eventually started meeting with the Pastors, seeking help and guidance. Something had to give. If Jesus was the answer then I wanted to find it. I wanted to find the answer and I wanted to keep it. I was a hot-mess-express. Life had done a number on me. I felt damaged and broken. Unworthy of help, but still seeking it. Something in me wouldn't give up. One sunday, I made the decision after talking exstensively with both Pastors to go up to the front of the alter and do something that I should have done a long time ago. Not for my parents. but for me. It was time to forgive my biological parents for what they had done. For my own sake, my own heart, and my own walk with God. As I knelt there, the worship team was quietly playing a song, and I just started talking to God, and opening my heart to him. Exposing the deepest parts of me. The hurt, the sorrow, the betrayal, laying it all down at his feet. I started crying, like gut wrenching sobbing. I can't really put in to words the feeling that overcame me. I would imagine that those few seconds after were what true peace and surrender felt like. I knew my heart and my mind were on the road to recovery.


More to come in Part 2


Becka

 "For I know the plans I have for you Declares the Lord, Plans to prosper you, not harm you plans to give you hope and a future."

Jeremiah 29:11

Sometimes UNanswered prayers are better than Answered prayers...

       Ever since I was a teenager I have had tremendous issues with my menstrual cycle, reproductive system, and all that is connected to that. I unfortunately started my menstruation at nine-years-old, yes I know super early. By 16, I was diagnosed with Endometriosis, and fibroids and ovarian cysts. You see, I had been severely sexually abused on and off for years. By the time I was 17 I had my first surgery to try and clear out as much scar tissue and lesions as possible because it was wrecking havoc on my uterus. I had the same surgery again at the age of 19. Still the problems continued. This was a constant for many years, and after seeing many different doctors, trying many different avenues of treatment including a few D&C's and a multitude of birth control, blood transfusion, the problems progressed. By the time I was about 28 doctors were at a loss as to what to do next, believe it or not the word "hysterectomy" had been thrown around. So fast forward to last summer. I was seeing a hematologist because I had recently been diagnosed with "Von Willebrands" which is a blood clotting disorder, where my body is missing one or more blood clotting factors and so my blood doesn't clot like it should. I bruise easily, bleed even easier, and during my menstruation the bleeding is almost uncontrollable. I have to use a nasal spray called Desmopressin to try and help my blood clot during that time. Now my menstruation usually lasts from anywhere between 7-10 days or up to 3 or more weeks at a time. During this time I am loosing a significant amount of blood, which causes my anemia to act up and for the entire summer and this whole past year I was having to go once a week to receive Iron transfusions just to keep my levels at a point where I was able to live. So after seeing a specialist for this and everything that entails and ultrasounds, and other imaging they came to the conclusion together that my best chance at a future would be to have a hysterectomy. Wait what? at 29 years old, you're telling me the only option now is to have a complete hysterectomy if I ever want to have a chance at surviving? Mind you, I have NOT had the children that I have dreamed of having ever since I could remember.
        So, I took this information and went home. Defeated and at a loss as to what to do. Either I do the surgery and have a chance at a fulfilling life, or I don't do the surgery and I could very well bleed to death. I did what I do when I'm overwhelmed and completely lost. I prayed. I asked God to show me if this is the direction I am supposed to take. I cried, for days about it. I was so hurt. So scared. So defeated. Utterly broken. How was this my life? What did I do to deserve this? The one thing I have always wanted above all else was to have my own children. How could that dream be ripped from me? I felt unwanted, how would any man want something so broken? I was a hot-mess-express for a while. I hold on to the hope and truth that God has a plan for me. Adoption is and would always be an option for me.
        So surgery was scheduled for February 2nd. It was complicated getting to that point. I was set up with ten weeks of iron infusion in order to get my levels safe enough for surgery. I was sent for testing, blood work, paper signing. Two days before surgery I went to my Pre-op appointment, did my blood work, x-rays, and got all the information and surgery prep-kit. My surgery wristband was placed on my right wrist and I was ready for surgery Friday. My best friend was in town for this. She came all the way from Kansas to be by my side. What a lucky girl I am. I was ready, emotionally & mentally prepared for what was to come. I had my work figured out for me to be off for at least 4-6 weeks. Took a medical leave of absence from school, and everything was ready to go.  That evening I got a call from the hospital. My surgery was postponed. why? Because, my insurance didn't want to approve the necessary medicine needed for surgery. The medicine was $14,000.00 and an absolute necessity to clot my blood and keep me alive during this extensive and risky surgery.
         To say I was pissed, annoyed, frustrated was an understatement, all the prepping that was done for this to happen. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I prayed to God that he would move mountains for this surgery to happen. It needed to happen, and needed to happen now.
          Fast forward a few months and I'm still going back and forth with the doctors and insurance, talk of sending me to a specialist in LA, and other things. My doctor ultimately ended up referring me out to our local teaching hospital and clinic, saying that they should be able to get the surgery done because insurance is more inclined to approve the medicine for them. Basically, the problem was too much for him and he handed me off to someone else to have to deal with it.
           So I start seeing a new doctor. Her name was Dr. McDermott. I explain everything that has gone on in the last few years with my case and everything that has entailed in the last few months or so. She tells me she wants to do a complete work up and review my entire case. So a few weeks later I go in and she sits me down and explains that they are not willing to do the hysterectomy because she feels it is too soon to come to that kind of final conclusion. I explained my heart and everything to her about wanting to have children but coming to the conclusion and realization that it wasn't gonna happen.
            She wants to do another ultrasound that entails three different kind of tests. This should give her a good look at what is going on in my uterus, cervix and everything there. They scheduled me to come back in a few weeks after to go over the results. So I did. She sat me down and said, "we found something in your ultrasound that could explain everything going on" she explained that I had a Endometrial Polyp growth in my uterus. She didn't know how big it was, but looked to be of a significant size. She explained what it was and that it was most likely what was causing my significant bleeding issue. Sooooooo, she wanted to do surgery as soon as possible. Surgery was scheduled for July 11th. It should be a quick surgery and I would only need to stay in the hospital for a few hours after as long as everything went as planned. They would go in vaginally to remove the polyp as much as possible. So surgery day came, surgery happened (they were overly prepared and gave me the blood clotting medicine, you know just in case) and surgery was a success. Had a few breathing problems after surgery but nothing too big. Dr came out and told my sister they removed as much as possible, but because I started bleeding more they decided to stop.
          So I met with the doctor two weeks later for my post-op appointment. She told me she was amazed at the size of the polyp they removed. She said it was the biggest she had dealt with. Completely filled my uterus and cervix. She said any movement or touch would make it start bleeding, which explained the constant bleeding I as having. They broke it in to pieces and sent pieces to pathology for testing. All came back negative for cancer (thank GOD). They were not able to remove the stem, but she said it should be fine and that there is a chance it can grow back and that if it does we will play it by ear. Here I am four moths post-op and I have never felt better. My menstruation is normal ( at least what normal should be I guess). My hemoglobin and iron are steady and I'm feeling so much better.

I prayed and prayed and prayed for answers and for the hysterectomy to happen. God had other plans. He knew what he was doing. I just had to be patient, listen and TRUST in him and his timing.