My Life, His Story.

“Look among the nations and see, wonder, and be astonished. For I am doing a work in your days that you would not believe if told.” (Habakkuk 1:5)

I have been deeply divided.

Black and White.

Canadian and American.

Wealthy and suffering.

Rejected by my father, in the face of my mother’s many divorces. Ripped from my beautiful country by the age of 11. Rich stepfathers. Wealthy lifestyles. Yet, empty in heart. Lost in spirit. To grasp who I fully am, has been the theme of my story, the thoughts of my life. This journey has led me down dark alleys as I heard my name whispered and rejected by all, from every direction. The voices of depression, suicide, confusion and rage echoed endlessly as they romanticized the event of leaving this side of eternity.

By the age of 15, this fanaticized reality was missed by just a fine strand of hair.

At the expense of a doctor’s intelligence, compassion and schedule, I was overlooked June 6^th, 2013. By the time I had arrived at the hospital in assistance of a life flight helicopter, word had flown of what I had just survived. The deathly 700-pound weight of a vehicle that had flipped on top of me. Although, at first glance it appeared my injuries were not life threatening enough for intentional cleaning or attention. They sent me home within the hour. Only for my scrapes and bruises to grow into corroded flesh, eating at the bone of my leg in 3 days.

2 months, 6 surgeries, and 1 monumental scar later, I was able to keep my left leg.

Time moved on, and yet I could not. My worth, broken. My faith, shattered. One ride, one left turn in an allteraine vehicle to change the entire trajectory of my life. They told me I would never run again, never tumble, never jump. Not only sentenced to the shelf for the remainder of my life, but a broken confidence every time I caught a glimpse of the gaping hole tattooed on my left knee. A miracle, yes that I escaped the reality of a prosthetic leg. Although, my perspective was and still lingers around the thoughts, “if they had only saw me, valued me, tended to me.”

By the age of 18, I suffered the death my intuition always anticipated. Although I could have never known the toll, the weight, and the shame that the truth would burden to the one carrying it. Death comes in many forms yet pursues us all the same. A thief in the night, awakened by heartbreak. My essence, my truth, stolen. Killed. Murdered. The sexual abuse of my stepfather only led to the betrayal of my mother. As he held her wealth, security and confidence in his grip, she traded in the testimony, the abuse of her daughter, for the lies to cover up her murder.

The poison of betrayal infested every sphere, poisoned every relationship in my life. “How long will they set their hearts on shadows, chasing their lies and delusions?” Struck by this pain, I rose in wisdom, to discover the gold, of complete dependence on God for survival. For two years, I lived drifting. Where every three months I found shelter with whoever’s grace would take me in. A friend, friend’s family, or in cases where grace seemed hidden, the shelter of my car or the hands of strangers. I lived meal to meal, and many times pondered the miracles of how God provided.  Every morning I laid the pieces of my heart, of my life at His feet.

You surround me as I am stripped naked by the world. Humiliated by those called family. You lift me high as I bow in shame. You are all I have. The secret to my strength.  Awakened by frost as it bites my skin, sighs of desperation sing my hymn. Seeking warmth. My stomach moans, as my heart shivers “I have nowhere to go”. Yet, another night I sleep in my car. No one sees me but You, as December comes to a close, it has been 2 years.

What is not painted when you’re in the midst of your death, of your battle, is what is awaiting you on the other side. A world you may have never known otherwise. A heaven, a paradise, sewn by grace, tailored just for you. God met me there, in the hurt, in the burden, in the betrayal, and led me here, paradise. In His arms, He never left, as He guided me to the streams of hope, peace and love. By the miraculous attendance of a hidden bible study, I was guided to the gates of my paradise. Hearts that held the keys to my healing, my calling, my destiny. Although God always knew, He painted it the very day I was due. My breakthrough. My God parents. Forever engraved in my heart. Took me in at the age of 20, now a part of my picture for which God calls His art.