Testify, Part 1

Forward:  I really didn't want to write this.  I was up at 1 A.M. and my fingers were interested in typing something true and real to share.  My spirit was heavy and I really thought that I was just going to write this and avoid publishing it.  I prayed about it and tried to go on about my way but God kept throwing it up in my face.  Confirmation after confirmation that I shouldn't be afraid to tell my story because truly its not mine.  It's just something that I've been through, not for my sake, but surely to show just how great God is. 

As you read this 6 part series (yes, SIX!) do more than judge me.  Do more than assume that this is still the person I am today.  Do more than criticize me and condemn me in the comments section.  Look at how I was and see the glory in God's story.  Look past the words on the screen and come to understand that no matter how bad your past is or what you have done that God still forgives.  

You don't have to get right before throwing yourself at His feet.  Bring all your mess, come as you are, give your life to Him and watch Him work.  That is truly the essence of this story.  My testimony.  Pray for me.  Like I said, I didn't want to tell this but I feel compelled to share it.  For that one heart that may need to hear this, I'm praying for you as I share.

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Truth is...

I'm scared of telling my story.

Wait.

I shouldn't really say scared but its more like I'm disturbed about telling my story.  I guess I'm disturbed by it because I honestly feel that God covered me during my life when I rejected Him.  It bothers me.  Bare with me.

See I haven't always walked with Christ as the head of my life.  Through childhood I was raised in a Christian home and was brought up with some "good home training" but in my younger years I was in no way described as a devout church girl.

As a matter of fact I would have been described as the complete opposite.

I mean the junk in my trunk was straight up garbage.  However I believe in the midst of all that garbage were rubies, diamonds, and pearls that God was keeping safely tucked away.  Jewels, gifts, talents, whatever you want to call it, that He would someday use for His glory.

If I had to describe my personal state as a youth I would describe it as very troubled.  I can't come up with a better term or describe it in any other way.

Growing up I felt sorta lost.  Felt like a piece of me was missing.  I often blamed it on my dad, being that I was raised by my grandmother and my mother.  For most of my childhood I resented my father.  I mean that deep resentment, like I love you daddy with all my heart but I hate your guts too.

I think I felt that way because I wanted nothing more than to be a daddy's girl.  I wanted to be someone's little princess.  I wanted to be cherished in the eyes of my earthly father.  All the other little girls around me had daddies and I wanted mine.  ALL THE TIME.  Not just some of the time.

It even goes deeper than the daddy issues though.  I didn't want to be me.  I don't know why.  I resented myself as well.  I used to actually daydream of what I really wanted to look like, how I wanted my name to be spelled Latoyah rather than Latoya (seriously, who knows what brought about that idea).

I wanted to live in another place.  Be another person.  I wanted to be understood.  I was just straight up confused.

This continued on through middle school, high school, and it blew up in college.

Seriously things became so much worse in college, but I'll get to that later.

Let's back up and talk about middle school though.

Most girls that age were still reading babysitter club books, staying up late to watch Tales of The Crypt, and watching Saturday morning favorites.  I was out running the streets at an early age.

Not because my mama and granny let me but because I sneaked behind their backs and used family members (unbeknownst to them) to get what I wanted.

My innocence.  Yep it was gone before I even became a freshman in high school (I'll keep the specific time to myself, just can't rip the entire bandage off).

Why am I sharing it?  Because I feel it's deeply rooted into who I am, my testimony, and HIS GLORY.

No God didn't want me to be a little fast thang running the streets, it was a choice I made and one that I've lived with.  However, it took me a long time to understand how choosing things outside the will of God affects forever.

I'll stop here.  My story is better digested in smaller bites.



To read Part 1, click here. 
To read Part 2, click here. 
To read Part 3, click here. 
To read Part 4, click here.
To read Part 5, click here.
To read Part 6,  click here.