When God spoke to me I left my career to be a stay-at-home mom. I left all the glitz and glamour and all the supposedly wonderful things. I started completely over, but with God in my heart this time.
Really, I wanted to die. I was doing all the things that were killing me anyway. I had so much pain, hurt, and hatred I didn’t know how to process any of it.
I had a big head and a big attitude to go along with it. I had the house, cars, the boat; the middle class dream. All of a sudden I started making some real bad choices.
By the time I was thirty I had experienced five failed marriages. I felt like I could do nothing right;
Her grandmother threw her out. She lived in a little 16‘x9’ shack by the roadside. I was born in that little shack.
One day he brought a friend with him to also have sex with me. I then realized he didn’t love me. He just thought he could use me and get sex from me.
"When my mother told her that she was pregnant she took her to what we would call now a backwoods abortionist."
"I was mad at my dad for destroying my family. He had taught me homosexual behavior was a sin. He had instilled in me that homosexuality was wrong, and suddenly he was trying to get me to justify it."
I didn’t tell very many people about this for a long time. I didn’t want them to think I was crazy. I know I ran up on some wicked stuff that day.
I slept in the car one night with my newborn baby. That was one of those “God, why me” moments.