Welcome to another Episode of The Cactus Series, my name is Moyosore.
So there’s this testimony I’m dying to share with you guys but I’ll wait till the end of the series to share it
We are having a good number of entries and I’m thinking of posting twice a week. I’m not sure what other day of the week but might be random so I’ll enjoin you to follow my blog or keep visiting on a regular. Our Thursday deal still holds tho ;).
Today we are having an anonymous entry so I’ll call her “Miss A”. Please read and be blessed.
You’d say: “It’s easy for you to tell me to follow Christ when you’ve not been through half of what I’ve been through”. What if I told you I have been through it too? What if I told you I have an idea of how you feel? I wasn’t so lucky to find out I had a choice but here you are. I wouldn’t say I wish I found out early too because the length of time it took me to realize the truth makes me want to hold on to it even more; and I can unapologetically say, I’m not letting go, not this time,not ever. And that is the reason why I’m able to share this story, today, with a smile on my face.
Born into a family where I was made to understand at a very tender age that people actually do make babies just because they feel like it, not cos they have the resources to see to the well-being of the child.
Mother was a rock. But I guess your fortitude is questioned when you alone have to cater for the needs of five other human beings, especially when you’re just at the mercy of a menial job that can barely feed you alone.
Father was a tad selfish. Did I say a tad? Jokes. When I was growing up, I’d tell the few friends I had and the ones that cared to listen that I didn’t have a father. He was dead to me. It was much easier saying just that than having to explain the reason why I abruptly stopped attending school or why my clothes were hand sewn with used napkins or why I was called toothless because no one had ever seen me smile. Yeah, I guess it was much easier admitting that my existence was something short of a mistake.
Mother was a few strings from breaking when she sought help from the closest relatives. They shared us across the nation like gift packs. Separated from every nuclear family bond, I was practically a baby taken away from the needs of her mother’s breast milk. I wasn’t ready for all of these. I still needed to learn a lot from mother.
She hadn’t told me that my legs were better off closed than opened. She hadn’t explained to me that even your uncle wouldn’t have enough decency to control his libido but rather exercise his sexual perversion on a young girl that’s just peeping through the windows of puberty. I was exposed to brutality and it was impossible for me to believe there was a way out. I actually thought pain was a normal way of living and that hardship was part of the package deal of life.
With my early exposure to sex, you’d think by now I’d be a machine for it. Well I was close enough. And no, this is not a cliché story of a girl getting raped and turning into a monster afterwards. I was left at the mercy of both young and old men to get myself educated and I wondered why these men had to have so much control. Then again I thought, part of the deal I guess.
I felt education was the only thing I could get right and I had to find my way around that. Half of my university days were a blur. I dated guys who made a door mat out of me. It was a continuous cycle of them as I found myself getting deeper and deeper. Then I thought all men were just naturally that way cos the one that was supposed to be my father didn’t prove otherwise.
With every man I was with, I felt a piece of me go with them and a hole was left in place of it. I had numerous abortions that I almost knew how to get one done myself. After the last abortion I had, the doctor told me I couldn’t afford to wash out any more babies. The contraceptives were becoming a daily dose and I became a pack of flesh with no soul to support me.
I was done with school and then I got pregnant again. This time I wanted to keep it as it might be the only chance I had to make one. I had settled with the best I could get out of the man world. He refused to formalize the marriage by giving me a ring. He would say: “weddings are for spoilt brats and just a waste of money”. Most times I just sit alone wondering if life had anymore rocks to hit me with.
Oh it did hit me; like literally. The father of my unborn child beat the baby out of me. He was drunk and I was weak. My baby was pulled out of me dead. And at that very moment I screamed at the top of my voice begging for death. I just wanted an eternal escape from all of it. A break forever!
Sadly, life thought I still needed to stick around. Thank God I did though, because I never would have had the chance to find out there’s another life after this one and I get to choose what happens there.
I was invited to church by my neighbor whom I avoided for months before I finally succumbed. It wasn’t one of those, go to church once and have a sudden encounter. I was a very stubborn unbeliever. I was angry, terrified and vengeful. I kept going anyway, to please my neighbor who wouldn’t mind being a pest just to see me in church.
During one of the Sunday services, the choir sang the Yoruba version of: “there’s power in the name of Jesus”. Till today, I still cannot explain where the breeze came from. I felt like my whole body was under an electric shock as I broke down in tears. I’m sure my tears could have filled a bucket. I’ve cried all my life but this was different, this was a relieving one. This was me breaking free from the bondage of condemnation and rejection.
I just felt the need to release every burden and place it at the feet of the one who knows and understands what I’ve been through. It was something I couldn’t control. It was like Jesus himself tapped me on the back and said: “you’ve had enough, now would you let me take over?”
Yes! Yes! I screamed yes more times than I can remember. I’m done being the doormat, I’m done carrying it all by myself. Please I just need a hand.
In the course of my search, I realized he had even more in store for me. It felt too good to be true. I could lie down for hours just ranting to him like he was right beside me, that was the only time I felt at peace with my past and not be ashamed about it.
He was the only one who would still look at me like a piece of diamond even though my past is full of crap.
The only one who thinks my life is worth another trial; the one who sees beyond the tears, pains and heartaches.
Gradually my worth was being restored. I found the courage to regain all the lost years and start a new page.Jesus turned it all around. It took me a while to reach a point of total forgiveness. It was difficult for me to meet some of the people who did wrong by me and not feel the need to release my wrath. I went through a couple of Christian counseling and I was told every minute that forgiveness was my only way to eternal peace and oh heck! I sure want that peace . Jesus forgave me for the lives of all the children I took anyway so I gotta learn to let go.
When I share my story with people, they’d start to feel sorry for me and I’d cut them right in the middle of it. Don’t feel sorry for me because I’m now a new being in Christ. I’m sharing it not for pity’s sake but to make you see that there’s no one beyond redemption. In fact, God uses the worst of us to pass his message across to the rest of us.
And some of us have to go through
the tough route to come to a place where we can share our story and help bring others to Christ.
We are soldiers for Christ and sometimes we need to go through barrack training to be well equipped for battle and the winning of souls.
Those rough patches may seem unending now but they are the best avenue to appreciate God’s uncommon love.
So when I say things turned out perfectly fine; they really did.
God molds us in different ways.When you think you are far too gone, trust me you’re not; You’re just in the right place for a turn around. And sometimes when it seems like he has given up on you, he’s quietly planning a comeback strategy.
The only one capable of handling your past is he who knows your future. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
It takes great courage to put your story out there for people to read. Thanks Miss A for giving somebody else a chance to be inspired by you. May God bring to perfection the good work he has started in you.
Guess what? You can be a part of this by just sending me an email. email@example.com. Or you just want me to pray with you about something? That’s cool too!
Don’t forget to be a vessel of inspiration by sharing this post!
See you soon! Right?