I was prematurely proud of my faith

Easy in, easy out

I had a holier-than-thou attitude toward the unwoke heathens in my elementary school class

I was the social outcast, but I had friends in high places

God was like the strong older brother I wish I had had to protect and defend me

I didn’t want to share, I was too shy to speak anyway

Nobody knew it, but I read the bible every day when I was a child

Then puberty’s rain of blood, sweat and tears awoke in me old trauma, cracked me to the core

It occurred to me that being molested by my mother had not been OK, and any decent god would not have allowed such a horror to happen

These are the makings of a whore

Pretty girl + poverty + pushover + early childhood abuse

The perfect storm brewed within me

I cut myself off from God and for the longest time I was a drifter

An urban sifter

I did not fare well on my own

Without realizing it, I invited one trauma after another into my life

I clung to education as my lifeline out of poverty

Slowly, I am clawing my way out

Eventually, my education led me to my husband, who brought Jesus back into my life

I know now that God never cut Himself off from me

I understand what they say about mysterious ways

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