I think that in order to see the beauty in life, we must see the ugly. Joseph is well known not only in the Bible but in history as the man who was second in command in Egypt. Such a high position for a Hebrew. But in order to get there, he went through some serious struggles in life and that was the bigger picture that he could not see while he was going through it all. During the process, I am positive that Joseph hated where he was and how all these mishaps were digging a deeper hole for him, at least that is what he must have thought. But we see Joseph as the man who not only helped Israel, but all of Egypt to stay strong during famine. Sometimes that is all we see and forget that in order to get there he went through a lot, the ugly.
February 5, 1999, my parents accepted Christ in a church in Aiken, SC. The last straw had fallen, my mom had gone to jail for stealing in a store and my dad had gone into the shower drugged and had taken a shower with all his clothes on without even realizing what he had done. It all sounds funny now, but I was a 5-year-old seeing all this happen around me. February 5th made me realize that parents do not do drugs, they do not bring you out to the party at 3 am to dance, they do not watch The Aristocrats on repeat with you just because they are high and find it hilarious. A lot changed. There were no more long trips to Kline to meet up with my “friends”, the drug dealer’s daughters. There were no more sudden outbursts and hits because my parents were going through withdrawals. I was not left at airports with my mom anymore just because a man looked her way the night before. You see, all of this, I really thought was normal. I thought other kids got to drink beer at parties like I did and got their own margaritas made by the adults. It seemed normal that there was a glass table in the bedroom with white lines that I could easily go and touch. It seemed normal that our kitchen didn’t have a table and that we were always living with my parents’ friends. But the day I entered that church my life changed forever and yet that was only the beginning.
My parents were restored completely. I had these two new people in my life. We bought a house and moved to Windsor and assisted church faithfully. I was in love. I had found my safe place. I had a whole village now that cared for me. I knew new kids and I was in pure bliss. My parents got baptized and became active members in church. We were going to every revival around town and lock-in. They were hungry for more spiritually and I was just happy to be a part of it.
Then it happened…
My life, literally me, got wrecked. My parents were asked to be the godparents of a baby boy from church. Joyfully they said yes. The night before the Sunday service we went to their house to celebrate. I remember running around all like a wild child. My friend asked me to sleep over and of course I wanted to stay. I remember my parents saying no and me begging to stay, why did I beg? I remember that night, how can anyone forget something like that. I was sexually molested by the father of that house. I cried all night and begged to call home. The wife said I would just make my parents mad. I waited a whole month before telling my parents what had happened. For a split second, my parents forgot what being saved was and wanted blood for blood. I felt my village crumble. The looks and despises everywhere. It was in that moment that I started to doubt God.
We stayed in church. The bible says, “Forgive those who hurt you.” Easier said than done. The charges were dropped, and life seemed to continue as if nothing had happened. But not for me. I saw the man all the time and a grudge was growing inside me. As I grew, I realized more and more that what had happened was a huge deal. I started not only hating the man but God too. How could such a good and all-powerful God not have stopped this? Why me? What did I do to deserve this? Had I not already gone through enough before coming to Christ? I started becoming rebellious in school. Sure, I had good grades, but I also had the mouth of a true sinner. I thought that if I could defend every girl that was hurting from a heartbreak or whatever it was, that I would make up for how broken I felt on the inside. I remember one day my pastor told me he was going to pay for me to go to camp and I was like, “Yea sure whatever I’ll go.” On the ride to camp, I sat in the car and wrote in my journal a letter to God.
“Dear God,
I hate you. I truly don’t believe you exist. If you did then why would you let this happen to me? This camp, if you do exist, I need you to tell me why you let this happen. If you don’t, I am leaving it all here. You will never hear me speak to you again and I will leave.”
The words of a naïve but hurting 13-year-old. This is where I get to tell you that if you don’t believe in God then you are reading the right story. He does exist and He hears everything you say. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I went to the service that night and sat there with my arms crossed ignoring every word the preacher said. Suddenly, the preacher stopped his sermon and said, “I’m sorry I can’t continue to preach until I say this for someone here today. The fact that you went through that tragic event at 6 years old wasn’t God’s doing. You think He wanted you to go through that? He didn’t. But He is here to tell you that He can turn anything bad into good. What you went through now will mean nothing later. If you could go through it and survive to tell it then that makes you a lot stronger. Now any obstacle that comes your way will mean nothing compared to what you already passed.” The man then turned and continued to preach. I felt quite composed although on the inside there was an explosion like if that was what needed to be said so that everything could fall inside me, and God could now put me back together. My friend next to me said, “You do know he was talking to you, right?” Tears flooded my face and I broke down. I reconciled with God that night and I “forgave” Him or what I thought was Him which was only me and my hurt being put on someone else. This was the beginning to my restoration.
You see the difference between my parents and I was that they had actually had an encounter with God, and I was just pulled along into the whole deal. I didn’t have a saying in it and I really believe that I needed that encounter to be able to give myself completely to God. This didn’t mean I was completely fine, not even a little bit. It took years to be completely restored. Baby steps is what I like to say. I had made up with God but there was still that man. I was siting in a lock-in one night and the pastor was preaching about how liberating it is to forgive. How you feel as free as an eagle when you aren’t chained down by hate and grudges. I walked straight to the kitchen to get some water, this topic was too raw for me. A lady from the church followed me into the kitchen and stood in the doorway between me and the hall to the temple. She looked at me and said, “It’s time to forgive him.” I looked at her and said, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” While trying to swallow the water in my cup. She said, “Until you forgive then you will know freedom in Christ. This is not freedom. The way Jesus forgave you for your sins is how you must forgive him.” I walked out the kitchen and didn’t look back. As I walked through the hallway, I pondered on what she had said. Could it be true that I wasn’t free? That just like before I didn’t know what normal parents were because I had not had them, now I didn’t know what freedom was because I had not really experienced it. As I entered the temple again there he was to my left, standing alone watching so that no one would be playing in the back of the church.
The preaching had ended and now people were being prayed for. With all the guts I had, I walked up to him and said the words that were numb to me. “Hi. I just wanted to say I forgive you for what you did to me and forgive me if I ever hurt you or your family.” I think I expected the man to break down crying and beg me for forgiveness the way I begged for that one phone call that night, but neither happened. The lady that had came to the kitchen literally had to grab me and pull me away because I was just standing there expecting an apology from him. All I got was a look and red face from him. The lady took me to the altar and told me how brave I was and how now I was free. I prayed and the spirit took over me and I am not one to run in any kind of situation but that day I ran like a gazelle around the church. This was freedom. Truly I had never felt that. It was like a fresh poured glass of water running over me. Refreshing, that’s how I can explain what I felt. Like icy hot going on a bruise. I was free.
Restoration Takes Time…
After this whole situation the Holy spirit worked in me. I didn’t go to therapy for my brokenness, God was my therapist. His word was my treatment. Were there hard moments? Absolutely. I wasn’t completely healed until I was about 21. There were many nights when I was now the problem. I would cry myself to sleep and all these “what if” thoughts came to my mind. What if I had never slept over? What if I had gotten that phone call? What if I had run out? None of that was going to change the situation but it was still there. Little by little, God healed me and showed me that I was highly blessed, not many get to tell their story. Not many survive. You know that cliché saying, “You can’t love others if you don’t love yourself”. It’s true. Once I started healing and loving myself, I could finally love my family and friends. I could finally hug them and be okay with letting them love on me. Later, when I was diagnosed with Lupus, it took a physical toll on me but not a mental nor spiritual one. God was right, I had gone through the worst already and anything else that came my way was nothing in comparison. Processes are necessary and life happens. But now I am at the bigger picture. I may not be second in command of Egypt, but I am where God has placed me. I am working hard for the kingdom of God and telling my story so that many others can stand up, walk out of the shadows and know that the good always comes along.
The Good. The Bad. The Ugly. But God! 
Very powerful testimony!!
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