Find
Hope
My father took a baseball bat from the corner of the room and started beating my mother over the head, face, and upper body. The darkest day of my life was the day they lowered her body into the ground.
In the third grade I didn’t know how to spell tadpole. For every letter I missed my dad would whip me across my back with a leather belt until I would bleed.
“Sir, because Jesus Christ has healed all the pain that was associated with my experience here in Vietnam. I can say to you, “I love you and God loves you.” When I said that the interpreter began to bawl.
I’ve never in my life felt so wanted and so and so needed and so desirable.
My husband helped me a lot. He cried. He prayed. When I would go back out and do wrong again he would come looking for me. He would forgive me.
As the dreams continued I began to focus on the issue of forgiveness concerning my dad.
When my dad was struggling for his life, he went out into the yard to put himself out and the neighbors came to help extinguish the fire. Dad wanted to pray. Dad wanted to pray for my brother.
There’s some sort of hole in your heart that you're still trying to get filled. You wish your Dad had said some wonderful things.
You can forgive me of the drinking and the drugs. You can forgive me of the sexual sins that ran deep. But you can’t forgive me for that. That was unforgivable to me.
I didn’t know if God loved me. I was just so desperate. I started to try to find my identity in relationships with guys.