The Light House

I was born in February of 1960, the 5th and last child my mother would raise. I was my father's 5th child as well, but my brothers and sister were a half sister and two half brothers on my mothers side and a brother who also had the same father. I never knew the four other children that were my father's from other relationships. Although I was born in Ohio, my family moved to Indiana and then Michigan where I spent all my school years.

Family life was difficult to say the least. My father was an alcoholic who was violent and controlling. He was abusive in every manner you can think of. He even fathered a child with my half sister when she was 16. Although I have some memories of the sexual abuse I suffered...the Lord has blessed me with an ability to suppress those as I think those would be too much for my mind to bear. I remember only to the point of him sitting on the edge of my bed in the middle of the night after he beat my mother and my brothers. If I try real hard I can remember to the point where he would assume the "spooning" position...but thankfully at that point my mind is blank. What I do remember clearly as if it were yesterday is the beatings. Mostly the beatings inflected upon my mother and brothers. I recieved my share and the pain is still sharp, but clearer yet was watching my mother and brothers being beat with fists and anything he could get his hands on. Relentless beatings that only ended with my fathers exhaustion from the severity of the beatings he instilled. I remember being punched in the face for not chewing my bread properly. I remember being beat then told to leave in the middle of the night when I was 8 because I cried when he hurt our family pet. I remember packing my clothes like he told me to do and then sitting there on the porch wondering where I should go...But the most painful thing for me was watching what he did to my siblings and mother. He was a cruel man who tortured us with such a joy it was unbelievable to my child mind and heart. He was prejudice and a womanizer. I also was made to watch him beat numerous other people whom he just didn't like as well as animals and pets we tried to take care of. We were not allowed to watch any television show that had people of color in it. We were forced to listen to his Hitler like tyrades about the "lesser races" as well as his translation of the Bible. He taught us that he was God's replacement for Jesus Christ. And this was driven into our heads over and over like the fists he assailed our bodies with.

My dad didnt work. My mom supported all of us and kept a spotless home as well. She worked multiple jobs to feed, clothe and house all of us. And everything had to be to my father's military like specifications or a beating and destruction of home and body was in store for all in his reach. Some of my earliest memories are of my father sitting on my mother's chest and beating her head and face with his fist. If something was not done to his liking, like the dishes, it would be destroyed and we would redo it while he kicked us around. We were awakened in the middle of the night to do calistenics because he thought we were lazy or had not done enough that day.

My mother was the first generation Polish American. My grandparents were born on immigration ships coming to America from Poland. Thus her upbringing was strict and she was raised in the Catholic tradition. I am not sure what religious upbringing my father had but his roots are Southern. We were told he was Catholic...but I don't know. The only time we went to church as a family was those traditional Catholic holidays like Midnight Mass. My memories are not very shining because my father was always very drunk at these services and I was SOOOO embarrassed! My mother was excommunicated from the church for divorcing her first husband so only went for holidays.

I went to a Missionary Church with my childhood friends and this was a good experience. I felt God's amazing love there, but no one ever tried to reach out to me and nothing ever came of those irregular visits. I was so afraid that someone would know what was going on at home that I never reached out on my own.

My younger years were spent being an over achiever. I excelled in everything that would not bring a lot of attention to myself. I was on the honor roll at school every year that I can remember. I tried so hard to do everything perfect so that maybe my dad would stop hurting all of us. But I never excelled to the point that others would become interested in me personally because then they may have learned what was going on at home. I remember other people saying to my parents that they wished their children were as good as me...so grown and mature. Now when I see a child that is picture perfect like I was it is a blaring red flag.

And when I grew to be a teenager I figured out that nothing I could do would make my father stop what he was doing. So I rebelled. I lived a double life. A steller student and daughter...deeply involved with smoking, drinking and drugging. My parents never knew of my behavior because I hid it well behind good grades and quiet behavior at school. I was confirmed at 16 in the Catholic church. Keeping the same friends at school as I did in church...but my friends at work and away from school were of the wild type. I didn’t care too much about living or the future as everyday was just a struggle to get through the next beating or war zone at home. I started working at 14 to get away from home and help my mom out with what I could. At 17 I had become assistant manager at a restaurant and was making pretty good money. I actually got to the point that I saved my money to try and hire someone to kill my father. Thank God for a wise friend (with the same kind of father) who talked me out of it. She told me that the guilt would destroy me even if the law never prosecuted me.

I graduated from High School with honors...I was on the National Honor Society and in the Who's Who Among American High School Students lists...I received scholarships...and awards...and I went away to school in another town. Trying to excel at the university was difficult as I was also excelling on the party scene...and worrying about my mom and what was happening to her back at home alone with my father. I went home the summer before my junior year and worked in a factory and partied all the time. One day my father tried to set me up with one of his drunken buddies. When I refused and threatened to report his friend, my father beat me and told me he would kill me if I ever refused one of his friends anything again. I left home, returned to school pick up what I could fit in the back seat of my car, and took off. I quit college and a life of any respectability at all, moved to Denver and lived on Colfax Avenue. I met a man about 1 month into my new "life" here - a troubled soul to be sure. He took me in and turned me out onto the streets to support us. At this point, I didn't care about sex...it was just a way to get what you wanted. It didn't matter what anyone did to me - my father had already done it all before. I found appreciation from Donald for what I could earn on the streets and that was more appreciation than I had gotten from any man before. This lifestyle worked for a while until we were arrested. Going to jail for the night (and the thought of staying there) was sobering enough. I told Donald that I would not continue that lifestyle as I had found freedom from my father's prison and I wasn’t going to enlist in another. Donald followed me and tried to live a normal life but he had many mental health issues and eventually committed suicide. After Donald was gone I just didn’t care about life anymore and started partying with newfound enthusiasm. I followed a life long dream and drove truck for two years - a way God began working in my life again. Those long hours on the road gave me many hours to sit and think about things and have long, long talks with God. The crux of my questions revolved around…WHY?! Why didn’t He care about me, why I was unlovable, why the world was such a mess and where He was in all of this.

I started to settle down a bit from the partying during my life on the road, but I kept on drinking and drugging because I thought nothing really mattered. Then the good Lord used another approach on me and I got pregnant - a real eye opener, to say the least. God chose me to be the “rock” in some little being's life and I was not about to let this child down. I went back to school and got a career and I got serious about providing for this child but I never gave up the drugs and the alcohol. I even told people that I believed God gave us these vices because He knew life was so painful.

But, as hard as I tried the pain followed me everywhere I went. Bad choice after bad choice followed me; however, I was able to hold a good job so I could provide for my child. I even allowed someone else in my life who I had another child with. I tried to find happiness from the strides that I’d made in my life, but nothing seem to work; nothing ever satisfied. Then I went through a divorce and spent some years on my own seeking and searching for God on my terms. I looked into Wicca, and Native American Worship. I sought him through astrology and even studied palm and tarot card reading (yes, I even gave readings!). I read everything I could get my hands on about angels and after death experiences. I sought and I sought but I never found any lasting peace or joy in any of these spiritual avenues.

Then the Lord sent John into my life. John had a past and many problems of his own. Although full of problems, he was a man who had read the Bible and could tell me lessons that he had learned through prison evangelists. He told me about Proverbs 31 – the perfect wife and how I had all the makings of that woman and encouraged me to read the Bible to get the answers I was looking for. I started a yearlong journey through the Bible and read it from cover to cover. John was right! All the answers I had been searching for were embedded in the pages of that book! My life played out in those pages written so many years before I was ever given breath. I could see my life in the book of Job, in the Psalms, every book! HALLELUJAH!!!! I wasn’t alone! God knew me and called MY name and I HEARD HIM! And He was always right here with me...waiting for me!

Since I read the Bible and began to find the answers I was searching for, life hasn’t always been easy. In fact, I went through a bankruptcy and a foreclosure, but through those hard times I focused on my faith walk with God and continued reading the Bible. As I read and learned to speak with God - and to LISTEN to Him - I learned to Let GO of the control over my own life and entrust into His caring and loving Hands! I learned that He was the One with the answers, not me. And I learned to PRAISE God for the things that I went through in life because I knew I was a better person for the lessons He gave me. I knew that if God cared enough to teach me through my difficulties, then I must be pretty special and capable and that He had work for me to do. I feel so HONORED and HAPPY that He thinks me good enough for Him to use me for His work...WOW!

And now He has given me such amazing peace and has allowed me to see the Wisdom in his plan; how He can use what I have been through to reach others and share His words with someone who might never listen. I can reach people with similar backgrounds, because I’ve walked where they are walking and can tell them that Jesus holds the answers that they’re searching for. I can look back and see why I lived on the streets, why I was a stellar student, why I used drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes. I can see why He gave me this heart of empathy for others and why He gave me the wisdom that so many have told me they see in me. He knew I was going to question things and He knew I was going to buck His way of life and that I needed the wisdom to know that there was a Light at the end of the tunnel. That Wisdom I had even as a small child – the wisdom that knew there was something more. The wisdom that knew that there was indeed a GOD and that HE LOVED ME. HE LOVES ME!!! And that voice I kept hearing during all the struggles I went through was really HIM and HE was speaking to ME!!! PRAISE JESUS! Lord, I am Yours and I have always been Yours!

In God's great wisdom and perfect timing, He took away, what I thought was, my dream house and gave me the home I live in now. It is right next door to a church that is growing, that I can be a vital part of, that He can use me in. A Church with a Pastor who understands the things I have done and doesn't hold them against me. A Church with the family I have always searched for that accepts me as I am. Together we are one Body...And He is our HEART! Praise GOD!