The Lost Child is Found by Father God
Hello all who read this. This comes from a resident that lived at The Care Center at one time. She wanted to think through her desire if she could do whatever her heart really wanted to do in the future. Some of this will be kept vague to protect this wonderful young lady and others that have been in her life. You will not know when she was at The Care Center or where she is now. We wanted you to understand how the Lord can change the desires of a person. These are her words. Please learn about the dangers and risks that are regularly exposed to children and teenagers in our world. Please learn about the great need for correct love and affection. Please learn about the saving grace of God for those who are in utter despair.
I want to open a home for children and teenagers ages 11-17
Why is this my desire?
So many children and teens are battling mental disorders, addictions / alcoholism, family disfunctions, abuse, sexual addiction, and self-harming behaviors. I feel as if kids are dying (spiritually) before they even have the chance to live. I see so many who experience rejection from home and school, that they look for a place to fit in. The places they choose are often detrimental to their well-being, ending in poor life choices and self-harming behaviors. I’m aware that teenagers can be very difficult to understand and get through to. I also understand that I cannot save them, but I can point them to the One who can! The goal is that these children and teens can experience a love like they’ve never known before and a place where they are safe and accepted, in the arms of God. I am a firm believer that one moment in the presence of God can change EVERYTHING. The children and teens may or may not change immediately, but at least they will know that SOMEONE loves them and in times of trouble, they can call upon Jesus for His help.
My desire is that the children’s home would be a branch of The Care Center, and that their mothers could receive care as well as their children. I want to see families reunited in Jesus, by His power, and in His grace and love.
Why do I want to open a home for children and teens?
As a child, I dealt with a lot of depression and anxiety due to the dysfunction within my own home. I thought something was wrong with me and that I was unlovable. All I wanted was to be loved and accepted by my family. When I didn’t feel like I was getting it at home, I tried to find it from kids at school. I searched for affection and found none, so I began to act out for attention. I just wanted to be noticed by my mom. I wanted people to be proud of me, but it seemed as if I was always overlooked. It all started with lying (from what I could remember). I would tell massive stories to try to impress people around me. I thought if I had something interesting to tell, my voice would be heard. My lies were always exposed; so, when the lying didn’t work anymore, I began to lash out in anger. Afterall, I did have a lot built up. I would yell and get mad about the smallest things. Then, people didn’t want to be around me and my family would ignore my fits. So, I isolated because I felt unwanted everywhere I went. I would shut myself off in a room and watch movies. In isolation, I found all kinds of R-rated tapes and at dad’s house, I had full internet access with no supervision. Out of curiosity, I began watching those tapes and surfing the internet. My mind became very corrupted. At school, the kids would set with me at lunch to hear all the inappropriate jokes. Finally, I found some people who cared about what I had to say. By the time I was in 7th grade, I was addicted to watching pornography and lost my purity to another girl. Eventually, my perverse jokes at the table lost everyone’s attention and I had to find “a new talent”. Somewhere within this time frame, I tried alcohol and I loved how cool it made me feel to bring booze on the school bus and show it off. But I couldn’t find a way to get enough alcohol to bring to school every day. I was only 12 years old. So, I was forced to find the next new thing. Fighting seemed to rev everyone up, so I became a fighter. I walked around with my chest puffed, arms bowed up so no one could mess with me. On the outside, I was TOUGH and full of pride. On the inside I felt ugly, stupid, and completely unlovable, and consumed with jealousy. Fighting caught everyone’s attention for a while, until I became so arrogant that no one wanted to be around me, and my “roughness” ruined every friendship I had. I was alone (internally) and miserable; ugly and unlovable. It was no one’s fault but my own. Why did I have to be born “me”? Ahh! The one crowd I haven’t tried to fit into yet: the emo crowd. Not my preference, but better than nothing. I studied “emo people” and most of them cut themselves. Ouch. But I was desperate. I gave it a shot. Oh my! It's like I was in a whole different world when I would cut myself. And I was in a different world, one that revolved around ME, where I got ALL the attention, where I was the most important one in the room because of all the injustice that was done to me, where I was the queen of the party (the pity party that is).
I was alone, but found that in that world, I was important. What started as a way to “fit in the crowd”, became my way to escape the crowd. I remember locking myself in the room and scratching my arms, legs, face, whatever. I could finally take out all the anger that I had towards myself (for being ugly, stupid, and unlovable) ON MYSELF. I became so miserable in my own misery, but became comfortable in it. I continued that way until I met my first boyfriend. FINALLY, someone who didn’t see me the way I saw myself (ugly, stupid, and unlovable). I was so happy. I felt like I was coming alive. He had a vehicle and would come get me every weekend and we would go to football games, swimming, friends’ houses, etc. He smoked weed, but not in front of me for about the first month of dating. When he did smoke in front of me, he offered (his friend was with us) and he asked me to hit the joint. I said no, repetitively, and eventually gave in because I didn’t want to seem like a party pooper. I wanted to be the cool girlfriend. After that, I began smoking weed and drinking every weekend. Then, a few times a week, then every single day. It started out as fun and socializing with friends, but very quickly became a daily need. I found out that being high was the cool thing to do, I also discovered that when I was high, I felt better about myself. I was more confident and more social. Again, it was like I was in a different world. Except this world was a little more beneficial to me than the last and I didn’t have to set in a room by myself. I could live in “this world” with others. And these people accepted me. I eventually started getting “intimate” with my boyfriend. One drug led to another. I would smoke, take, or drink anything someone handed to me, because I wanted to be like everyone around me. I wanted to “fit in” – to belong. Life was good this way (or so I thought) until I wasn’t high anymore. When I was out of drugs, I was so irritable, angry, frustrated, and even suicidal. When I wasn’t high, I was so overwhelmed with anger, hatred, and depression that I thought I would die from my emotions. Over time, my boyfiend and I split up and I completely lost control of myself. I began to run away from home, continue getting high, and hooking up with different guys. Between the drugs and the way the guys would talk about me, I felt pretty good about myself until I was home alone and sober.
When I was 16 years old, a man in my family (who was 39 years old) introduced me to meth. The first time I tried it, I didn’t feel anything at all, but the second time, I was hooked. The high was so good that I couldn’t even move my body. I laid on the couch, unable to even move my body, as that man took it upon himself to have his way with me. From that moment on, I just went with the flow of everything he said, and my “reward” was a never-ending supply of methamphetamines and a pipe. This went on for months and surprisingly no one in my family had a clue until they noticed that I was throwing my food away and not eating. I left my phone out one night and my family went through it and seen the texts between us. They didn’t know that the drug was meth until he was questioned. I was taken to the hospital, then admitted into a mental institution and went right back to getting high. From then on, I was on a merry-go-round of drugs, men, hospitals, rehabs, and juveniles. I was underage, but most of the men I was partying with were GROWN MEN. At 17 years old, I busted out of a juvenile detention center and met a guy (24 years old) that introduced me to a new high that I had NEVER known before; shooting up. I didn’t want everyone to see my reaction to the high or how I shot up that first time. So, I went into the bathroom, stuck the needle in my vein, and pushed the syringe full of meth into my arm. Instantly, I was high, the most amazing high I had ever experienced before. This one hooked me instantly. Next thing I know, I’m putting any and everything in a syringe and shooting it into my veins. I would mix different substances together all throughout the day. The guy I was with became very abusive. He would leave me at the traphouses with different men who would drug me up and have their way with me. Then, he would come back hours, sometimes days later telling me that he got stuck on a dope run because of car trouble and whatnot. Somehow, I eventually gained enough of his “trust” to go on dope runs with him. We went from the plug in Greeneville, TN, to the main plug in Atlanta, GA. From this guy, we got all kinds of new stuff that I didn’t even know existed. I learned a lot about drugs and dealing at that time. I was forced to try drugs that I had never done before. If I didn’t take what was handed to me, I was considered sketchy and untrustworthy. So, I did heroin and even GHB. By God’s grace, I survived. My boyfriend and I got into a bad argument and I was left on the streets in Atlanta to fend for myself, but somehow we found each other again. We went back to Greeneville and the abuse only got worse. People were overdosing on the drugs we sold them. I even watched a guy shoot himself because he was so strung out on meth. I experienced some horrific things, but I figured that was the way life as an adult was supposed to be. One day, my boyfriend tried to kill me by choking me to death with his knees on me pinning me down. I got my arms loose and pitifully punched his arm. He finally let me go. I went to the bathroom, and I don’t know why or how I even knew HOW, but I prayed “God help him. God help us”. He left me the day after for another girl. I was put out of the dope house because me and him weren’t together. I was left homeless. I wandered the streets of Greeneville, TN until I was arrested. I was wanted. There had been posters of me over town, in my hometown, and I was on the news, and I didn’t even realize it was that serious. I was taken to the hospital because I was in so much pain. When I got there, my kidneys were failing. As soon as the hospital released me, I was taken to a temporary home for kids and teens, it was faith-based, and we had church on Sundays. I was so traumatized from the abuse, and I was having withdrawals, but given no medication or medical/psychiatric attention. That Sunday, we had church. I walked in, went to my seat and thought (for the first time) that I’ve got a problem. Something is wrong with me. I looked at the scars on my arms, the bruises, the scabs and I felt so dirty. I had never felt so disgusting in my life. I felt like a garbage dump that men just dropped off all their garbage on. So, I prayed. It amazes me how I even knew to pray! It was a questionable, but a somewhat hopeful prayer. “God, I don’t even know if You’re real or not, but if You are, show me. I can’t do this anymore.”
Within seconds, I felt God’s existence. It was so powerful that I couldn’t stand. I fell on the chairs in front of me. I’ve done a lot of drugs, I’ve experienced a lot of things, lots of feelings, but THAT was the most real thing I have ever experienced. In that moment, I knew that there is a God and He heard me. No one could ever tell me He wasn’t real after that. Part of me came alive. The withdrawals stopped. The PTSD and nightmares went away over time. And I started reading the Bible. Things were looking up. I was becoming hopeful. Then, I was sent to a different facility and held there until my 18th birthday. That place was terrible. There wasn’t church there, the staff were not good influences, and I lost that connection with God. I turned 18 and relapsed when I made it home. Eventually, God brought me out of it. I began going to church on my own at 18 ½ ish. I fell in love with God and His Word. But I couldn’t leave men and relationships alone. The relationships kept bring me down. I would get sober for a few months and relapse. That cycle continued. I had 3 children through the ages of 19 – 23 and lost custody of them due to the relapses. But through it all, God has been faithful to me and my children. Every day that I’m alive, it’s only by His grace and His goodness to me. I understand life at both sides of the fence. I’ve lived different lifestyles and I’ve had probably almost every type of stronghold a human can have. But through it all, I’ve learned that no case is too hard for God to take on. There’s no pit too deep that His arm can’t reach to save. My desire is to share the Father’s love with children and teens and allow His perfect love to fill the void within their hearts; to teach them that we’re not created to fit into/belong to the world. I’d like to share with them that we’re called to be set apart and it’s okay to be different than everyone else. I’ve experienced the absence of a parent. I’ve also experienced BEING the absent parent due to my poor choices. I want to see families reunited. I want to see mothers have healthy relationships with their children. I want to point broken families to the God of restoration. TO HIM BE THE GLORY!!!
Note: Maybe one day there will be a second story for you to read. If you are hurting, desperate, and believe that you are ugly, stupid, and unlovable, then cry out to the Lord will all your heart. He is able to rescue you. His strength does not depend on your circumstances. Your rescue depends on His glorious might expressed in his love for you in Christ Jesus.
“6 For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. 7 For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die— 8 but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. 9 Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. 10 For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. 11 More than that, we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.”
Romans 5:6 - 11