My Journey to Faith: A Personal Testimony

My name is Cassie. I am from a very small town, Raleigh, MS. I was born into a broken home. I wasn’t raised in church, and God was nowhere near our home or our family. My earthly dad was very abusive to my mother. I felt she needed protecting, so I took some of the hits. Growing up in a situation like that, it does something to your mentality. I developed a lot of anger over the years, and I still struggle with it today.

 

We didn’t have a lot growing up, but I guess we had all we needed, but to the well-to-do kids at my school that had money, liked to rub it in my face that I didn’t. They were more worried about who had the fanciest clothes and shoes, while I was always wondering how bad it was going to be when I got home? I didn’t even know what materialistic things were growing up. I didn’t care about things as shallow as that. All I was worried about was my Mam and that she'd be alright.

 

As a child growing up, I had a severe case of ADHD, which if you are from the 80’s or before the 80’s, you’ll know that ADHD was not that common, and I was labeled as the problem child. Teachers hated to see me coming, the principle knew me by my first name, and the troublemakers knew I wouldn’t take nothing off of anyone. I had to fight a lot in school to protect myself. I got pretty good at it too. In fact, I wanted to be a professional kick boxer when I was older, but that never happened. I ended up moving from Raleigh to a Christian school. I hated it even more there because I was mad from being moved from the one true friend I had in school. I hated going to school as I wasn’t the favorite, I wasn’t even tolerated by most. The principle there at the time, told me that if I didn’t change my ways that I would go to hell. I guess folks don’t like it when you speak against them or put back on them what they spew on you because when I told him, “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you there” I got kicked out of school. 

 

Around nine years of age, maybe a little younger, we’d always go to my mom’s parents' house on Saturday’s to be with all our cousins, spend the night and get up Sunday morning to go to church, have a big lunch and go home. Nighttime rolled around and we separated from our moms to go to bed. That’s when the worst night of my life happened. I was molested by a family member. It started out as a kiss, then to grabbing, to trying things, but things wouldn’t work because he was much older than me and I hadn’t hit puberty yet. Since he couldn't have those types of relations with me, he forced me to have relations with another family member while he watched. We were told if we tell on him, he will go in and slit our mother’s throats while they slept. I loved my mother. I had to protect her from my dad, and no way was this person was going to hurt her either, so I took it. I took it for years. I started acting out when the weekends we were going to my grandparents because I didn’t want to go. Sometimes I’d have to go, and others I didn’t. I acted out there a lot of the time, in hopes Mama would take me home.

 

 

I loved being at my dad’s moms' house. Because of the sexual assault I was having to endure at my grandmother’s house, I caused so much trouble at home to where I was allowed to go live with my grandma (my dad’s mom). It started out only on the weekends but grew into during the week as well. I loved it there because she’d take me to the creek, fishing, and when we’d go visit her friends. I’d get to climb in their trees and eat really good food while we visited. A lot of the time, they would let me help them cook. I loved elderly people, as I felt, I too, had an old soul. I felt like I had to be an adult too early in life, so why not have an old soul? My grandma taught me how to cook, clean and drive. Her house wasn’t always love and accepting but it was my peace in the midst of the storm.

 

When I was thirteen years old, my body was changing and I started getting a lot of attention from different boys. So, I became sexually active. I didn’t know being sexually active outside of marriage was a sin. With everything that had happened to me, I just assumed it was what people did in life. Doing these things that I am super ashamed of and would break my heart if I knew my daughters were doing them at that age (that’s why I taught them not to be like me). At the age of seventeen I met an older guy, and he introduced me to marijuana and Jack Daniels. I quickly became addicted to it, as I liked how it numbed all the pain.

 

I eventually became too hard for anyone to handle. I dropped out of school, some nights I’d come home, some night’s I wouldn’t. Looking back on it all now, I feel so terrible for how I treated my mama and my grandma. I was lost, I was hurt, and I was very angry. If I could give any advice to younger people, life is too short. Do not take your grandparents, or parents for granted (if you still have them here). You never know how much or how little time you have here with them.

 

My dad ended up surrendering his life to Christ and my mom shortly followed. They were always in church and begged me to go, but I was sixteen years in without God. Whoever He was, at that time in my life, He couldn’t have been that great because He allowed me to go through so much long before I even had a chance. However, can I remind you that God does not allow bad things to happen to you; sin does. The enemy that lurks in the darkness causes havoc and chaos. It is you and I that have to cling tight in our faith to trust in THE FATHER during the storm.

 

I ended up getting a job at Applebee’s in Laurel. Where I met a very wonderful girl that worked there also. She and I became so close, that I ended up staying with her. We went clubbing and did everything together. She took me to Roper’s in Hattiesburg on my nineteenth birthday. I wasn’t old enough to drink but ended up with a bracelet and got drinks anyways. I had invited a guy that I was interested in dating, and a few others. He came, and we were just getting the night started. I was only 2-3 drinks in but started feeling like I was extremely drunk. I told my friend that I didn’t feel so well and my guy was going to walk me outside to get some fresh air. Little did I know he slipped date rape in my drink and raped me on the hood of my best friend’s car. After he was done, he left me there, discarded like I was a piece of trash he tossed out his window. She took me to the apartment, and begged me to go to the police, but I was too ashamed. I didn’t want my grandma or mama knowing where I was or what I was doing. She got me cleaned up, I ended up losing my job and pushed her and everyone else in my life away. I drank more, smoked more, and just when life couldn’t get any lower it did…

 

I met the guy that was forever going to change my life at the age of nineteen almost twenty. He was a charmer, and he hung out with the same group I did, and I thought he was hilarious, so why not. Not like I had any more to lose, right? Oh my, was I ever so wrong. Meeting him was nothing but satan intervening into my life even more. When I tell you, he will kick you while you are down if you do not have a strong relationship in Christ, he will devour you. He will chew you up and spit you out.

 

This guy and I started dating, seemed to be ok in the beginning, but things started to slowly decline. He had an ex-wife, a record and a horrible temper. He had me move in with him, and when I did, that is when all hell broke loose. The abuse started. Threats were made to force me to stay. He knew I loved my nieces and nephews dearly. He told me that if I left, he would hunt them down and kill them one by one and make me watch them die. So, again, I stayed. I was trapped. I had been trapped. Trapped to sin, trapped in being lost, and not knowing who my loving Father was.

 

We eventually got married, and he promised once we were married, and he knew that I would be his forever, he would change and be the husband I deserved. Well, it got worse, way worse. I was the only one working at the time because he never kept a job. Kept getting sick, went to the doctor, I was pregnant. Everything seemed better because we were excited, but I was scared to bring a child into this world knowing how he was. I knew that everyone else in this world could hate me, leave me and abandon me, but my child would forever love me, and I would finally matter to a human in this world.

 

I would pay our bills, but the banking account was always in the negative. I knew something wasn’t right because I kept finances very well. I went to the bank and asked if something was wrong because I knew the funds were in there. He had stolen the debit card and was taking money out of the account. I was so angry, I questioned him. Keep in mind I was pregnant. He was stealing money from me to buy drugs, and I had no idea. He became so angry with me for questioning him, that we got into one of our biggest fights ever. I remember running out of the apartment in fear for our lives, I fought back. I hit him with a thick wooden broom stick. I took off running, and just as I had made it to the road behind the apartment there was a car coming, and I was waving them down. I remember falling to the ground and sliding backwards. He had me by my hair, pulling me back inside. As the car drove by, I reached for them, screaming and begging for help, but they kept driving. They never helped, and they never called the police to help me.

 

I suffered from permanent nerve damage to my left leg, a broken jaw and cracked alveolar in several places. In other words, he broke my face. I couldn’t go to the doctor in fear of him going to jail due to what would have happened to me and my family after he was released. He never got in trouble anyways because his family worked for the sheriff’s office.

 

When I was five months pregnant, I got the horrible news that my son had a condition called hydrops fetalis. It is a rare, life-threatening condition characterized by the abnormal accumulation of fluid in at least two body compartments (e.g., skin, heart, lungs, or abdomen). I was referred to a specialist at the Baptist to where they tried to get me to have an abortion. I was furious. I wouldn’t allow them to take the one person from my life that would love me. I had to fight for him! I became saved, prayed daily and I believed that if I prayed daily, God would save him. I made it to seven months, and was at my appointment, when they told me his heart was faint. They told me if I didn’t have an emergency cesarian that I would have a still birth. I was in denial and shock. I believed in God, and that He would save my baby. His name was, Colby Aiden. He was going to be my miracle baby. He was going to be the one that everyone knew as a miracle.

 

I was scheduled for an emergency surgery, and I was able to see my baby boy for the first time. I fell in love with him and can still to this day remember what it felt like to have his tiny premature fingers wrapped tightly around mine. The doctor and nurses assured me that we would have this time alone, and to be unbothered. I held my baby boy for 45 minutes; he was fighting for his life. He was a strong little guy. He barley weighed three pounds and 60% of it was fluid. I never got to see his eyes, never got to hear him cry, and I got to hold him one last time at the funeral home. He died there that day, as a piece of me did as well. I was so broken. I was beyond belief. I believed in God, and felt like He hated me. I felt like a fool for believing in Him. I was ANGRY! I cussed Him, told Him I hated Him, and that I could never follow Him again.

 

That night, I tried jumping out the window of my hospital room. No one was with me, and I literally had nothing to lose, or live for. Just as I climbed up to the windowsill, I was looking down taking a deep breath of courage. I was being pulled out the window by a nurse. I was mad and angry. Why do I have to live in misery and why, if no one cares, do I need to stay here? Little did I know, I had a purpose.

 

My son was born on December 5^th, and now it was getting close to Christmas. I missed him so much, and everyone had a child celebrating Christmas it seemed. I just wanted to die honestly. It wasn’t getting any better, it was getting worse. I wanted a child so bad but didn’t want a child with him due to all the abuse. I didn’t know what to do or where to turn, so I took all my meds with me, locked the doors to my truck, and took every single pill that was prescribed to me. I sat there with my head against the seat just waiting. My husband was beating on the window trying to get it to break, screaming at me what did you do? I started feeling sick, and finally I just knew I was going to die. I started getting sick like I had to vomit. Keep in mind all the pills I took was gel capsules. I got so sick, that I opened the door, and started projectile vomiting PILLS! No coke, that I drink to take the pills, just pills! When they hit the ground, they were all dry, as if I had poured them straight from the bottle! WHY? Why wouldn’t He just let me die? Who was He that He thought He needed me to live in misery? Why would He allow it to happen? Why would He torment me this way?

 

 

I was so angry, I told Him I hated Him. Looking back on things now, from the abuse at home, the molestation, the rape, the abusive spouse, nearly being sold to drug lords to pay off my ex-husband’s debt, to the loss of my child, to the suicide, and to me truly becoming saved, I know it was for all of you. I endured hell on earth, to help bring someone out there closer to God by me simply sharing my story!

 

My whole life, I thought that I was a mistake. I’ve heard people say that God doesn’t make mistakes, but I was the exception to that rule, that they had no idea. I was finally able to get out, to go in hiding. I called my parents and my sister to let them know if he shows up, not to let him inside their homes. Once I was able to come out of hiding, I would explain to them what had happened. I was scared for my nieces and nephews, as I had stayed to protect them, but when I told my sister and their dad to shoot if he came around, that my nieces and nephews could potentially could be in danger, I knew they would protect them at all costs.

 

I was free from him, and living my life. I met a man a year later and I wanted nothing more than a child. I talked with him about it and told him that it wasn’t a trap to keep him, that if he decided I wasn’t for him that I’d leave, that I just wanted a child. God blessed me with two beautiful baby girls many years later. I am so thankful to be their mom. They brought and bring so much joy to my life.

 

Skipping ahead to now, I thought I was truly saved after my daughters, but it was just a feeling. If you have read my blog that’s titled, “Drifting Away” you’ll understand when becoming “truly” saved, it’s not a feeling, it is a choice. I can now say that I have forgiven my father. I have forgiven that family member. I have forgiven my rapist. I have forgiven the ex-husband. I have forgiven myself. I truly love God and have asked for Him to forgive me for all the hurt, disappointment, and the anger I held on to for Him for all those years.

 

He came to me in a dream and told me this is my purpose. To speak to all that would hear. I pray for people daily. I pray for all of you before reading. I pray that my story has a tremendous impact on you, and that if you need to speak to me, or have questions, that you will reach out to me. May the God and King of the Universe keep you and protect you.

 

Much love,

Remain In Faith