My story starts in 1984. Born to drug-addicted parents. My mother was exceptionally crazy, lost in feelings of envy of me and wishing I’d never been born. I’m told the doctor had to threaten her just to get her to give birth to me. By the time I was 1 I had been left on the floor starving, dirty and dying. Back then people didn’t “get involved” like they do now. Thankfully my paternal grandmother (Granny) decided to go against society and initially my grandfather and called CPS. I was remanded to foster care and it would be more than 2 years of fighting for my grandparents to bring me home to live with them.
My upbringing was simple, but a good life. I wanted for nothing, I never remember a need going unmet. My Granny decided to take me to church when I was about 5 and so we went. Then when I started 3rd grade Granny was diagnosed with breast cancer. I barely remember it. I don’t remember a day that she didn’t get herself up and get working on something at the house. Never too sick or tired to play or care for me. I would find out later that cancer brought her to Jesus. He used her illness to reach her, then healed her. However, my grandpa would lose his faith to that cancer. A faith that was never recovered, that I know of.
I was always in church. Sunday morning and night, Wednesday nights, youth group outings, church camp. Church, church, church. I never really wanted to go, but was not given another choice until I turned 18. I tried a few times to “live the life” but failed miserably and eventually gave up. I believed the lie that I was predestined for hell. I don’t mean that as a euphemism, I sincerely believed it. So, I lived my life. I wasn’t super bad. Went through a drinking phase, tried pot a few times. My vice was men. I longed for love and found it in the unhealthiest ways.
That brought me to a little town in southern Indiana in the summer of 2004. I met this guy, quiet but handsome. I knew of his trouble with drugs, but I was 20, who cares? We didn’t waste any time creating life, our daughter was born almost a year later. We got married and I instantly felt my life complete. All I had ever wanted was to be married and have kids. So, I threw myself into it. I read Christian books and tried to live that life again, but it wasn’t long before that went by the wayside.
My husband struggled with addiction for most of our early life together. We brought 2 more children into the world before we were 25. We split up, got back together, split up, got back together. I stayed through some of the worst drug induced incidents I can imagine. There is no earthly reason why, but I loved him and I was horribly co-dependent of him.
In spring of 2012 I decided to re-read the Left Behind series by Tim Lahaye and Jerry Jenkins. I read the entire series and got to the Glorious Appearing. I was reading about Jesus showing up and how they all felt. Then I read about how Rayford felt hearing Jesus say his name. I thought, “wow that would be nice if I could hear that.”. Then I thought, why can’t I hear that? I went through a radical change overnight. I accepted Christ and started looking for a church. I found one fairly quickly and me, my husband and my kids started going. I was so that ‘holier than though’ Christian. I was always harping on my husband about his sin and trying to get him to see the light. Whew, I don’t miss those days. Anyway, I got really into church and one night I heard about this ‘grace’ that comes from God. Either my childhood church never preached about grace (always focusing on living holy) or I didn’t have ears to hear the message. Either way, I learned more and more about this grace and about the love of my Father in heaven. I was baptized and lived the life, finally.
Until, I didn’t. My husband continued doing drugs and eventually left again in 2013. Instead of resting in Jesus, I lost my mind and my faith. Just walked away like it never even happened. I didn’t renounce him, I just lost my faith in my brokenness.
Mike and I got back together and after a few short months we were right back in the cycle. That would continue through 2018. Granny passed in 2016 and it changed me, not for the better. I didn’t feel like I was grieving, but that would catch up to me in the spring of 2018. Husband left again, and I again lost it. Except this time, I didn’t have my rock and moral compass, my Granny. So, here I went looking for love again. I found it (not really) in another man who was also hooked on drugs, and worse so than my husband. I ended up losing our house and moving in with my grandpa and my 3 children. Grandpa couldn’t handle the kids (he was an old school guy and I raised my kids in constant chaos, so yeah). I asked my mother-in-law to take the kids for a month or so while I saved money to get us a house. She agreed and off my kids went.
I had never been apart from them before and that didn’t work well in my heart. So, I made the worst mistake of my life. I decided to try the drugs I had watched consume my husband all those years. Never once had I tried it, or even thought of trying. But here I was, in some crappy pay-by-the-week hotel with a man that was not my husband, getting high on meth. I started like most people do, I only did it on weekends and worked through the week. I felt I had a good handle on it. Until I didn’t. It wasn’t long before I was getting high every day. The guilt kept me from seeing my kids, although I came up with some really good excuses.
October 2018 will forever be burned in my mind. One night “friends” of me and the guy showed up in our room and a fight ensued. They were robbing us, cause that’s what your drug friends do. The guy decided in a meth induced moment of heroism, to try to hit the one with the gun with a bat. The gun won. I would be held at gun point for several minutes while they cleared out all our cash and drugs. All the while I am just praying that Jesus would receive my soul, because I was most definitely about to die. I don’t remember saying it, I don’t know why I would say anything, but I was told later when he cocked the gun and put it to my head I looked at him and told him “You know I’m a mom”. For whatever reason, that brought him back down to earth long enough to decide not to shoot me. They left. (Of course, we know that Jesus was there that night and I survived because God is merciful. That grace I had ran from was there to save me.)
You would think that was my redemption story, yeah? Nope. I got worse on the drugs. I moved back to that small town to get closer to my kids. I started talking to my husband again who was fresh in recovery. My mother-in-law, not knowing about my drug use, decided to take me to court (that’s a whole ‘nother story I won’t get into here). Judge gives her custody because, at that time I had no home and no job. Husband and I get back together and I finally tell him about my drug use. He instantly starts doing drugs with me. Things actually are different between us, even with the drugs. It wasn’t a fun time, because meth basically makes you a raging psycho, but we stayed together better than we had prior to me doing drugs. We remarried in 2019. Things went well, we ended up getting custody of our kids back. Then my oldest comes home and tells us that she had told her counselor that her dad does drugs. I had to tell the truth that it wasn’t just him. That brought CPS into our lives. Which brought my mother-in-law back into court with us. She didn’t need to do much, that judge gave her my kids 8 days after our hearing. At the time of the hearing I had been clean for 6 weeks and CPS had cleared us to keep our kids. But, that judge took them anyway. Man, we were furious. But, I actually leaned on Jesus this time. I knew and trusted that our family would be restored. So, I went to meetings, I stayed clean. I stuck with Jesus. Joined a church, came to true faith, sincere repentance. That’s the end of my story BUT…
Let’s also look at how God’s plan came full circle. My husband grew up around drugs. He didn’t stand a chance from birth really. He was just doing what was natural to him. Literally nothing had ever worked to keep him clean. Until I got on drugs. Until our kids were taken. Until he had to choose between the only 4 people on the planet that had ever loved him unconditionally. See, God used my sinful life all along the way to not only save my soul, but to save my husband! We BOTH celebrate 3 years clean this year. God used my sin, for his glory. It honestly still amazes me to this day. To see my husband now, the way he cares for us, works hard to provide, loves us, his gentleness, his patience, his humor. You’d never know he used to be the monster in our nightmares. God restored us, our family and made us the partner to each other that each of us always wanted. We’re living our happily ever after in the palm of our Savior’s hand. There have been bumps, moments of doubt, some hurt feelings but nothing like it used to be. We’ve been made brand new and not a day goes by that I don’t praise YHWH for redeeming me and saving us all. He is truly worthy of all praise and glory. His plans for us have been amazing to see standing at the end. It was hard going through it all, but it’s beautiful looking back now.
My upbringing was simple, but a good life. I wanted for nothing, I never remember a need going unmet. My Granny decided to take me to church when I was about 5 and so we went. Then when I started 3rd grade Granny was diagnosed with breast cancer. I barely remember it. I don’t remember a day that she didn’t get herself up and get working on something at the house. Never too sick or tired to play or care for me. I would find out later that cancer brought her to Jesus. He used her illness to reach her, then healed her. However, my grandpa would lose his faith to that cancer. A faith that was never recovered, that I know of.
I was always in church. Sunday morning and night, Wednesday nights, youth group outings, church camp. Church, church, church. I never really wanted to go, but was not given another choice until I turned 18. I tried a few times to “live the life” but failed miserably and eventually gave up. I believed the lie that I was predestined for hell. I don’t mean that as a euphemism, I sincerely believed it. So, I lived my life. I wasn’t super bad. Went through a drinking phase, tried pot a few times. My vice was men. I longed for love and found it in the unhealthiest ways.
That brought me to a little town in southern Indiana in the summer of 2004. I met this guy, quiet but handsome. I knew of his trouble with drugs, but I was 20, who cares? We didn’t waste any time creating life, our daughter was born almost a year later. We got married and I instantly felt my life complete. All I had ever wanted was to be married and have kids. So, I threw myself into it. I read Christian books and tried to live that life again, but it wasn’t long before that went by the wayside.
My husband struggled with addiction for most of our early life together. We brought 2 more children into the world before we were 25. We split up, got back together, split up, got back together. I stayed through some of the worst drug induced incidents I can imagine. There is no earthly reason why, but I loved him and I was horribly co-dependent of him.
In spring of 2012 I decided to re-read the Left Behind series by Tim Lahaye and Jerry Jenkins. I read the entire series and got to the Glorious Appearing. I was reading about Jesus showing up and how they all felt. Then I read about how Rayford felt hearing Jesus say his name. I thought, “wow that would be nice if I could hear that.”. Then I thought, why can’t I hear that? I went through a radical change overnight. I accepted Christ and started looking for a church. I found one fairly quickly and me, my husband and my kids started going. I was so that ‘holier than though’ Christian. I was always harping on my husband about his sin and trying to get him to see the light. Whew, I don’t miss those days. Anyway, I got really into church and one night I heard about this ‘grace’ that comes from God. Either my childhood church never preached about grace (always focusing on living holy) or I didn’t have ears to hear the message. Either way, I learned more and more about this grace and about the love of my Father in heaven. I was baptized and lived the life, finally.
Until, I didn’t. My husband continued doing drugs and eventually left again in 2013. Instead of resting in Jesus, I lost my mind and my faith. Just walked away like it never even happened. I didn’t renounce him, I just lost my faith in my brokenness.
Mike and I got back together and after a few short months we were right back in the cycle. That would continue through 2018. Granny passed in 2016 and it changed me, not for the better. I didn’t feel like I was grieving, but that would catch up to me in the spring of 2018. Husband left again, and I again lost it. Except this time, I didn’t have my rock and moral compass, my Granny. So, here I went looking for love again. I found it (not really) in another man who was also hooked on drugs, and worse so than my husband. I ended up losing our house and moving in with my grandpa and my 3 children. Grandpa couldn’t handle the kids (he was an old school guy and I raised my kids in constant chaos, so yeah). I asked my mother-in-law to take the kids for a month or so while I saved money to get us a house. She agreed and off my kids went.
I had never been apart from them before and that didn’t work well in my heart. So, I made the worst mistake of my life. I decided to try the drugs I had watched consume my husband all those years. Never once had I tried it, or even thought of trying. But here I was, in some crappy pay-by-the-week hotel with a man that was not my husband, getting high on meth. I started like most people do, I only did it on weekends and worked through the week. I felt I had a good handle on it. Until I didn’t. It wasn’t long before I was getting high every day. The guilt kept me from seeing my kids, although I came up with some really good excuses.
October 2018 will forever be burned in my mind. One night “friends” of me and the guy showed up in our room and a fight ensued. They were robbing us, cause that’s what your drug friends do. The guy decided in a meth induced moment of heroism, to try to hit the one with the gun with a bat. The gun won. I would be held at gun point for several minutes while they cleared out all our cash and drugs. All the while I am just praying that Jesus would receive my soul, because I was most definitely about to die. I don’t remember saying it, I don’t know why I would say anything, but I was told later when he cocked the gun and put it to my head I looked at him and told him “You know I’m a mom”. For whatever reason, that brought him back down to earth long enough to decide not to shoot me. They left. (Of course, we know that Jesus was there that night and I survived because God is merciful. That grace I had ran from was there to save me.)
You would think that was my redemption story, yeah? Nope. I got worse on the drugs. I moved back to that small town to get closer to my kids. I started talking to my husband again who was fresh in recovery. My mother-in-law, not knowing about my drug use, decided to take me to court (that’s a whole ‘nother story I won’t get into here). Judge gives her custody because, at that time I had no home and no job. Husband and I get back together and I finally tell him about my drug use. He instantly starts doing drugs with me. Things actually are different between us, even with the drugs. It wasn’t a fun time, because meth basically makes you a raging psycho, but we stayed together better than we had prior to me doing drugs. We remarried in 2019. Things went well, we ended up getting custody of our kids back. Then my oldest comes home and tells us that she had told her counselor that her dad does drugs. I had to tell the truth that it wasn’t just him. That brought CPS into our lives. Which brought my mother-in-law back into court with us. She didn’t need to do much, that judge gave her my kids 8 days after our hearing. At the time of the hearing I had been clean for 6 weeks and CPS had cleared us to keep our kids. But, that judge took them anyway. Man, we were furious. But, I actually leaned on Jesus this time. I knew and trusted that our family would be restored. So, I went to meetings, I stayed clean. I stuck with Jesus. Joined a church, came to true faith, sincere repentance. That’s the end of my story BUT…
Let’s also look at how God’s plan came full circle. My husband grew up around drugs. He didn’t stand a chance from birth really. He was just doing what was natural to him. Literally nothing had ever worked to keep him clean. Until I got on drugs. Until our kids were taken. Until he had to choose between the only 4 people on the planet that had ever loved him unconditionally. See, God used my sinful life all along the way to not only save my soul, but to save my husband! We BOTH celebrate 3 years clean this year. God used my sin, for his glory. It honestly still amazes me to this day. To see my husband now, the way he cares for us, works hard to provide, loves us, his gentleness, his patience, his humor. You’d never know he used to be the monster in our nightmares. God restored us, our family and made us the partner to each other that each of us always wanted. We’re living our happily ever after in the palm of our Savior’s hand. There have been bumps, moments of doubt, some hurt feelings but nothing like it used to be. We’ve been made brand new and not a day goes by that I don’t praise YHWH for redeeming me and saving us all. He is truly worthy of all praise and glory. His plans for us have been amazing to see standing at the end. It was hard going through it all, but it’s beautiful looking back now.
