My testimony reveals how God transformed me from a goat into a sheep. The Lord is my Shepherd, I know that now, but when I was younger I was lost in the wilderness and the worries of the world. I do not remember too much of my childhood prior to age 7. I know I have always been able to sense things that were not there and I was deemed crazy up to age 11. When I was 7 years old and my sister was 5, my parents divorced but it was not a simple break up between husband and wife. Addictions led to division in the household, and opened doors. My dad was depressed and was always drinking. When he wasn’t drinking, he was fighting with my mom. He sought comfort in a basement confiding in strangers in chatrooms and that is when I started getting dreams. I had dreams that were very vivid and detailed, and one I took as a warning. I saw the woman who is now my stepmother in a dream and it prompted me to go to my mom and tell her we needed to leave our home for a while. She trusted in this and we left for a while to go stay with an aunt. While we were away, sure enough the affairs happened. I realized this dream had to have been from God but I wasn’t entirely sure who God was at the time.

 

The divorce followed quickly after and soon I was experiencing spiritual attacks galore, everything from seeing to hearing things others said were not there. I was taken to specialists and even put on medication no kid should ever be on such as antidepressants just to attend school as a normal kid. Divorce to me at the time meant my dad did not want me and I had always been a daddy’s girl so I tried to kill myself under the guise of a bike stunt. I wanted to die in that moment, and I rode my bike off of a raised wall. The bike flipped in the air and the handlebars nearly impaled me but didn’t. I had failed my attempt and only brought myself more agony. My mom admitted me to Ridgeview where they insisted I had Chronic Depression, ADHD and there was a possibility of a bi-polar disorder. I was constantly fed that something was wrong with me, my heart, my body, my spirit. I started to get ill for weeks off and on, just bed ridden with flu like symptoms but I would recover and be ok for a few weeks. 

 

At age 11, I was diagnosed with Schizophrenia but I was never told, I found out later in my adult life. My sister and I began to see a counselor for the divorce and were sexually molested. My childhood was torn apart and I was in a tug of war match between living with my mom and dad. I loved both but I couldn’t decide where I belonged, in truth I didn’t think I belonged anywhere. By age 15, I started self-harming and was being consumed by the darkness in my mind. This agony In my mind led to my body becoming weak and frail, I was always sick with something and in pain. By age 17 I was about to join a vampiric cult at my High School, and the day I went to meet with the leader to learn the doctrine, I avoided speaking to him and he walked past me. For a while I was stalked by members just at our local mall or I would be followed by shadows everywhere I went. I started cutting ties with people involved that I had befriended thinking that it would end it but it got worse. One day I wrote a poem crying out to God to wake me up from this nightmare I was living, I was tired of being a shell. Every day I was experiencing the supernatural on levels many could not understand nor believe me on such as physically being thrown from my bedroom by an unseen force. 

 

On April 19^th, 2009 (which is also my dear husband’s birthday) at 3 am (Note the time) I woke up to a sharp shove from behind, it jolted me awake. I thought it was my dad tucking the blanket behind my back to comfort me. I now know it was God waking me up for had I went back to bed, I would not be alive today and had I died that day I was not going to Heaven. On my way back the bed, my puppy Caesar ran to my stepmom and dad’s room and made a fuss, jumping all over them to wake them up and they knew something was wrong and stopped me. I died that morning, I had a stroke on my right side from a brain infection causing pressure on my brain on the left side. But I had been dying for a long time, damaged from mental abuse, spiritual attacks, and the darkness trying to devour me whole. It all caught up to me when I attempted to renounce it when I wasn’t even a Christian. But God gave me another chance. 

 

The doctors told my family, I only had a 15% chance of survival and If I did survive I could be a vegetable. My dad would not accept it and told them they were wrong, that God had me in his hands. I was paralyzed and my family came together and prayed over me with the healing of hands in ICU, and I kicked my right foot as my Uncle was tickling it. That one twitch strengthened everyone’s faith. I was in a medical induced coma for 7 days, and when I woke I could only say “I am alive” and “I love you.” I told everyone that, even the doctors and nurses. I was so happy to be alive, I ripped my own feeding tube out. I realized I had taken my life for granted and that God loves me and had a plan for me. I didn’t know who I was at first, nor who anyone was, nor my ABCs or how to count but whoever I was I knew God loves me and saved my life so I could live for him. I had to start over from scratch like a newborn but God guided me through bringing back the lost memories and taught me how to walk again. For a long time during my recovery I had memory loss, seizures, and excruciating headaches, but I knew God was gonna heal me. For months I walked around with an apple shaped piece of skull implanted in the wall of my stomach, with no helmet or metal to cover my head, it was a challenge but God led me. People from all over the world and my whole High school and even old bullies had been rooting for me and sent their prayers and gifts. God truly showed out in my life.

 

I didn’t always live for him after this (my husband and I made bad decisions and he was in and out of jail on drugs) and had moments I was led astray by my own fleshly desires but my experiences shaped me into a better person through God’s glory. I used this battle to relate to my dementia and Alzheimers patients when I began to pursue that work as my career. Although workers are always told to NEVER discuss religion, I shared God’s love and my testimony every chance I got. It is a relationship NOT religious. It inspired and strengthened the people I was caring for and they began to share their own stories, having windows of lucidity. When I no longer worked in a facility, I could walk into my clients homes and they already knew I was a Christian and to this day I continue to let my light shine as I grow closer to God and mature in spirit. I witness miracles every day, and I myself am a living breathing one.