LovedbyGod

My name is Dana. I'm just a girl who grew up on a farm in Iowa. We were a typical farm family- Mom, Dad, 2 brothers, dogs, cats, horses, pigs, chickens, a camper, a boat…… But my parents were always busy and they were cold, unloving people. I don't remember my parents ever saying "I love you". They never hugged me, kissed, me, and I don't remember my Dad ever looking at me even when he talked to me. All my life I felt like I was a burden to everyone and I didn't deserve anything. No one loved me, I thought. In Sunday school I learned that "Jesus is with us everywhere we go", but I saw Him the same way as my Dad. He was there, but he didn't talk to me, love me, or want to be there. He was there because he HAD TO BE. I truly wanted to know the Jesus in the pictures who was always surrounded by children. He must love children, I thought. Why didn’t anyone love me?
My parents divorced when I was 11 years old and both of my brothers were already graduated from high school, and had moved out. I spent the next 7 years as an only child, moving back and forth between my Mom and Dad. When I lived with my Dad for 2 years he was never home. He didn’t give me a ride to school, I had to walk. He didn’t give me any lunch money, I went without. I was home alone all the time, with no food in the house. It was very sad and lonely. When I did see my Dad, he talked about his girlfriends and how I should meet them, how wonderful her kids were, and he would tell me about all of the gifts he bought for her. Yet, I had nothing to eat. He would insist that I do his laundry for him each week and make sure his clothes were pressed and hanging in his closet so he could change quickly after work and leave again for his dates. Now I was a servant. I cried myself to sleep every night. I wanted clothes, makeup, a hair cut, I wanted something to eat. No one loved me enough to care. I went to school looking like a mess, and all the other girls made fun of me relentlessly. I had goofy glasses, crooked teeth, and frizzy hair. My clothes were old and cheap. They were so mean, and I felt stupid and ugly everyday. One day my Dad tried to sexually abuse me, and I was terrified. I didn’t feel safe at night and I couldn’t sleep. With all of the stresses, I couldn’t take it anymore so I called my Mom in Colorado and asked her if I could move in with her. Thankfully she said yes. Leaving Iowa was traumatic for me; I’d never been anywhere else. I didn’t know what it would be like living in Colorado. I was scared about this change in my life and didn’t know what was going to happen to me.

When I moved to Colorado in the 9th grade, things were better. Living with my Mom was better because I had food to eat. But it came with a price- her boyfriend was bipolar and unemployed. He sat on the couch all day and read the newspaper and smoked cigarettes. When he didn’t take his medication he would have to be hospitalized for manic depression. He would have fits of anger and then he would become suicidal. I had never seen anything like it in my life. I didn’t know anyone who was crazy, and I didn’t understand why my Mom would be involved with a man like this? Again, I would cry myself to sleep every night. I would dream about our farm and all of our animals. Life seemed so much better back then. We were a family and things were peaceful, now everything was so scary and uncertain all the time. It was chaotic and traumatic. Now, not only was I not sleeping at night I was throwing up everyday. I never had any comfort, peace, or anything normal in my life. When I went to my friend’s house for dinner, tears would roll down my cheeks uncontrollably as I would eat a hot meal at a table full of family. My heart was breaking for a family. I wanted to belong to someone and be wanted by someone. I swallowed the tears, and pressed on. I didn’t want anyone to know how awful my life was and I knew it probably wasn’t going to change, so I had to be strong all the time. I began medicating my pain with drugs and alcohol. Once I started, I felt my anger pushing me to consume more, and more, and more. I was smoking pot everyday, partying 3-4 times per week, and taking speed and acid on a regular basis. I just wanted the pain to go away, and I was angry at my parents. I thought, “if I die from overdose, they’ll really be sorry”. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll were my life 24 hours a day. I ditched school and did drugs so much in my 10th grade year that I barely remember any of it, and I flunked almost every class. One night, I was walking home from a friend’s house and I was on the brink of passing out. I was very drunk and high. I was walking down the alleys behind the houses so that I didn’t get confronted by the police. When I looked up at the end of the alley several blocks down, I could see a tall man standing there waiting for me. As I looked again, he was very tall, muscular, and had a sheet over his head. He was holding a sword, or an axe. I freaked out, because I didn’t know if he was real or if I was imagining things. He looked like the grim reaper. I kept walking towards him, I was angry and I wanted an end to my pain. I remember thinking, “if I’m about to die, then I don’t care.” The image stayed there for about 15 minutes then disappeared. Inside, I was very scared. That image stayed with me for days and months.
In my Junior year of High School I met a Christian girl who wouldn’t shut up about God, it was all she talked about. I got tired of listening to her, so I started asking her questions. She had an answer for everything. Out of curiosity I went home one night and prayed to God, “if you’re really real, then show me!” I didn’t realize it, but I was surrendering to Him. My eyes began to open and I understood things I didn’t understand before. He was showing me His ways. I wanted to know Him more so I started to pray everyday. My desire for drugs was gone, I had peace for the first time, I could laugh, I liked myself, and I got a really good job that gave me confidence about myself. My life started going in a very different direction, and things were positive for the first time that I could remember.
When I graduated from high school I wanted to get as far away from home as I possibly could. I chose to go to a college 9 hours from home but still in-state. I moved from Durango, CO to Sterling, CO. I hated Sterling, but I hated home even more. What a mistake! It was a terrible decision, based from my hatred for my home life. However, in my second year of college I met a Christian couple who invited me to live with them while I finished college and tried to decide what to do with my life. They helped form a foundation of faith in me that would carry me throughout my life. Being a part of a family was nice too. While living with them I realized- families are strange, maybe it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I was thinking all families were like Leave it to Beaver, Brady Bunch, or the Walton’s, but I found out they’re really not. While living in Sterling, I met a man who came to our church. He gave his testimony about overcoming steroid use, almost being killed in a train accident, and now he was a bodybuilder for God. I was inspired by his strength and wanted to know him better. We ended up dating for 2 years and we then got married on July 20, 1991. I wanted to be with him because he made me feel safe. I knew he would never cheat on me, lie to me, or leave me. That was all I wanted. I still didn’t believe anyone could love me, so I just wanted to be safe. I had just turned 23 years old- I had blonde hair, blue eyes, and I was skinny. I had dreams to be a writer. I was creative and funny. Now, at 23 years old I was resolved to just be a wife to a Christian man who could make me feel safe. I threw my dreams away. On our honeymoon he didn’t want to touch me. He wouldn’t look at me. I had a terrible feeling about this, it seemed all too familiar. This big, strong man of faith that I married was just like my Dad- unloving, manipulative, and emotionally abusive. My goal had been to fill a void in my life but now my emptiness and sadness grew deeper. For 11 years I cried myself to sleep…..again. When he wouldn’t touch me or have sex with me, I would roll over and cry into my pillow. To make matters worse, he was addicted to porn. He would look at other women and fantasize about them but he wouldn’t look at me. When we went on vacation he would stay in the room when I went to the pool so he could watch porn. I always found out when we checked out, and we had a $200 movie bill. He would get up in the middle of the night when I was sleeping and watch porn. God would always wake me up and show me what was happening. I confronted him about it often, and he always promised to change. He made excuses for not touching me. But it continued year after year after year. I was dying inside. I was tormented with sadness and loneliness. I was also beginning to believe that there must be something seriously wrong with me if everyone I’ve ever loved rejected me. I must be the most terrible person in the whole world, I thought. Everyone believed we were the perfect couple… we looked like GI Joe and GI Jane. We were blonde, athletic, and both strong Christians. I put on a huge smile every Sunday at church and when people asked me how I was I said, “fine”. My survival skill was to fantasize about a better life. Everyday I would close my eyes and dream about being in love with a man who wanted me. I dreamed about being in love with a man who looked deep into my eyes and told me he loved me. I dreamed about being in love with my best friend. My dreams played out in my mind over, and over, and over again everyday. That was the only way I could stay alive. In the Fall of 2001 I went on a week’s vacation by myself to contemplate my life. I was 34 years old and completely miserable. I had so much fatigue that I couldn’t lift my arms or legs, my chest was tight, and I couldn’t breathe. What was I going to do? I took off my wedding ring, and laid by the pool for a week. I prayed for answers everyday. I felt guilty about leaving my husband. I was a Christian, promises were supposed to be for real. On the last day of my vacation I met a very attractive man who told me I was beautiful. We spent time together talking and laughing. It was the most pleasant experience I could ever remember. My entire world turned upside down. I began to think to myself, “if this man thinks I’m beautiful then maybe I am.” It might sound crazy, but that one moment gave me enough hope and courage to go home and leave my husband. I did so immediately. I’ve never looked back. I went to counseling and told my entire life story to my counselor. Her eyes were as big as freight trains. I asked her if I was crazy, unlovable, delusional, schizophrenic, or anything like that and she said, “No. You are a very abused woman. God told me before you got here today that you need to ‘break the chains’ in your life. Is that the kind of confirmation you were looking for?” With tears pouring down my face, I said “Yes!” I felt set free. I felt like God truly wanted me to break the chains of abuse in my life and allow me to get the help I needed. So I started my journey to freedom, I thought. I had a lifetime of oppression and depression, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. I had so much hope at that time because I had someone who could help me. But my recovery would be delayed, and a new wave of trauma was about to begin in my life……
When I divorced my husband, the games began. He was a Marine and he wasn’t about to give up without a fight. He thought he could win me back by tormenting me, scaring me, and tormenting our son. He thought I would come running back to him when I thought I couldn’t make it on my own. He started by telling our son that I was crazy and I had a lot of problems. He told my son it wasn't safe to be with me. He told him that I was purposely tearing our family apart. My son would scream at me, kick me, bite me, throw things at me, he hated me. I was so exhausted, depressed, and mentally anguished. I didn’t have the strength to fight but I tried to reach out to my son. I did everything humanly possible to help him. I reached out to my church family for help, but no one responded. Everyone was afraid of my ex-husband. When I was completely exhausted, I allowed a man to live with me for a year who knew how to reach out to my son and provide me with some relief. Our relationship was very dysfunctional but I needed help with my son. I allowed myself to be abused yet again by another person who I thought loved me. I found out later that he was only looking for a place to live. My self esteem was damaged even more. I was treated like a crazy, stupid, ugly B*TCH. After a year, I kicked him out of my house. Immediately after, my ex-husband resumed his games and my son went through yet another round of lies, torment, and anger. It continued for 4 years! Throughout that time I reached out to the police, the church, counselors, but no one would intervene on my son’s behalf. They all talked to my ex-husband, but it only made him stronger because he knew he was winning his game to destroy me.
After years of reconciliation with my Mom we became best friends. I realized she was a bad mother, but she was an awesome friend. We did everything together and we talked on the phone almost every day. She loved my son and treated him like a special little boy. He needed her during this time. I needed her. When I was going through my divorce, job loss, loss of friends/church, and financial crisis she was the only person in my life who helped me and loved me.............and then she died. On November 21, 2005 I received a phone call at 6:00 in the morning from my stepdad. My Mom had been rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night with a ruptured brain aneurysm. I flew to Phoenix the next day to be with her, and I began to pray by her bedside. The day before Thanksgiving she woke up and asked me two questions, “What day is it, and how is Alex (my son)?” Those were the last words she ever spoke, and she slipped away after that. On December 5, 2005 she died. I was completely devastated. Now, I had NO ONE. I had NO ONE to lean on. On the way home from the hospital I had a panic attack on the airplane and the pilot had to make an emergency landing in Denver. He yelled at me as he walked off the plane, “Why don’t you people drive!” I tried to tell him my Mom just died, but I couldn’t get any words to come out of my mouth. In the coming days, weeks, and months my fear, depression, and anxiety attacks intensified and each day I cried tears of DEEP sadness. When my Mom died my new church didn't call, come over, email, nothing.....I came home from the hospital to an empty house. To make matters worse, my ex-husband knew I was at my absolute weakest moment and he came to my house and started a fight with me. As I slammed the door shut in his face, he punched my door really loud. It echoed through my house and scared my son terribly. Something in me said, “I’m not going to take this anymore.” I crawled into a shell of protection, and didn’t talk to anyone. I couldn’t get the muscles in my face to move. I couldn’t take in all that had happened to me in my 37 years of life. Why?! I was convinced God never really loved me and didn't care about what was happening to me....and I GAVE UP. My heart turned cold towards Him, and I was done. My lifetime of faith in God was over.
BREAKTHROUGH BEGINS………When it seemed like there was NO HOPE, and my life was COMPLETELY filled with sadness and darkness, God put a person in my life that saw through my tough exterior and prayed to God for my help. God showed her my suffering. God told her to pray and intercede for me. She became my prayer warrior. She would pray for me almost everyday. She would scold me like a loving Mama and tell me, "don't you know how much God loves you?! You've got to fight!” No, I didn’t. I didn’t realize that I had to fight for my freedom. I only saw myself as a victim who was hated by God. She showed me instead that I was a crippled warrior who was loved by God and hated by an enemy who was about to take me out of this world. She was persistent and relentless in her fight to save me from darkness. I knew I had no other choice than to allow her to help me, pray to God for help, and learn how to fight. My only choice was to place my trust in God and just believe, despite all of my doubts. I began to put God first, despite my anger. I started letting go of ALL my pain, anger, fear, one by one......There was so much. I knew it was going to be a LONG road to recovery. I didn’t believe God loved me enough to speak to me so I prayed persistently but without listening. It was a beginning, but rough at first. I didn’t believe I deserved to have my prayers answered so I prayed without an ounce of faith, but I did it. After I could feel myself inch slowly out of the grips of evil, I began believing that God must be in the midst of my recovery somehow. Then I started getting bold. I began demanding that the devil let go of me, and stop lying to my enemies. I learned to pray everyday and ask for everything. I stopped thinking that I was bothering God, and asking for too much. I started asking for everything I needed and the list was LONG! I didn’t care. I needed a lot, so I prayed for a lot. I would spend my Saturdays picking one area of my life and praying for that one thing for hours. The devil started letting go. Praise Jesus!
It’s difficult to write this story while I am still in the midst of my recovery. But I want everyone who reads this to know one thing about me. It’s this- For years I had a permanent frown on my face. It turned people away from me because they thought I was mean, critical, or angry. God showed me years later that my church family thought I was mean, and that’s why they didn’t reach out to me. How sad. They didn’t know that there was a lifetime of pain behind that cold, hard face. My sadness was so long-lasting, and so deep that I had a perpetual frown on my face. God is so good because when I smile now people tell me how beautiful my smile is. A year ago I was blessed with the financial ability to get braces on my teeth so that I could smile again, freely. I can smile now and not think about my crooked ugly teeth. I can smile now because God is taking the sadness and loneliness away. He’s showing me how much He loves me. I’ve never felt His love for me before, ever. NOW I HAVE A FACE OF FREEDOM!
I have learned that being a Christian means that I am loved by God who wants to bless me abundantly but I am also hated by an enemy who wants to steal, kill, and destroy everything in my life. Being a Christian is a fight. It’s a lifestyle of prayer and perseverance. It requires an attitude of victory and not defeat, a fighting spirit. Here is what Joyce Meyer says, and she is so right:
"The life you want is available, but you have to take it. It won't just find you. Passivity, lukewarm attitudes and always acting like a victim instead of a victor will not work....you must go for the heart of God with a no-holds-barred approach. Remember this scripture in Matthew 11:12 "And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffered violence, and the violent take it by force."”
It's not easy, sometimes the tormenting thoughts try to come back. But God's word gives me weapons to fight with. Satan has a plan to destroy our lives, and I was there on the brink of complete darkness, mental torment, anguish, and death. Satan also tells us lies about God like, "if he loved you this wouldn't be happening to you", "you've done everything right, but your life is such a mess. God doesn't have answers", "Christians are just ignorant people, you're smarter than they are", "why are you wasting your time praying to God?"
I am a Christian because God didn't give up on me. He relentlessly pursued me by finding a wonderful Christian who knew how to fight against the spiritual battle in my life! The woman I spoke of above was the receptionist at my work. God brought her all the way from a little town called Pampa, Texas and moved her to Broomfield, Colorado to pray for me!! One year later, she moved back to Pampa, Texas where she now lives. I was in the right place at the right time! Anyone who says God isn't a loving God is foolish. I was left for dead, but God had better plans for my life. I'm so thankful!
There isn't a formula- that's Religion. Jesus hated religion. I found out that he wanted my heart. He wanted me to just be close to Him, and have a relationship with Him. He wanted to be the God of everything in my life, all the details, EVERYDAY.
Living a life of freedom feels so good!