This Is My Story
We all have a story to tell—our backgrounds, our accomplishments, and sometimes, our mistakes. Often, we know people for who they are in the here and now. It’s only when we know what God has brought people through and where He’s brought them from that we can rejoice with them in their testimonies of God’s goodness!
I was blessed to be raised by godly parents. If the church doors were open, we were there—whether it be for a church service or maintaining the house of God. However, as a thirteen-year-old girl, I experienced my most traumatic experience to date—while at church.
It was a cold night in early March. I’d been allowed to go to the parking lot to start and warm the family car. My mother and younger four siblings were just inside the church doors, preparing to join me in the car. My father was finishing playing music with another man in the church, as was so often their practice after service. I thought it was taking them awhile to join me so I dashed back in the church to see what was delaying them. I then went back to the car.
As I shut the driver’s door, the door behind me opened. My first thought was that one of my siblings had followed. However, a gun was put to my head and a gruff voice told me to start driving. I didn’t know how to drive! I quickly said as much and then was shoved to the passenger side of the car as the man climbed over the seat—gun in hand. As we exited the parking lot, I opened the door and jumped out, running for the church door. The man followed me, eventually catching up and knocking me out with the butt of the gun.
The story is longer than I have space for in this article, but God was watching over me. Even though I experienced lacerations, a concussion, and nightmares, God was merciful. My story could have had a much different ending. I praise God for His goodness and that He allowed a way of escape. I owe Him my life and devotion!
Melody Reever, Editor
January 2nd 2018 @ 11:40 AM
I was raised in an Apostolic Pentecostal home. I was baptized in Jesus’ name at age twelve, but I did not receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. When I was sixteen, I wanted to fit in with my friends so I began to use alcohol, marijuana, cocaine, and LSD. By age eighteen, I had settled on cocaine as my drug of choice, using it off and on when …Read More +
October 31st 2017 @ 7:20 AM
My life started as a mess, and I made it worse.
I grew up in a small town of about five hundred people in southwestern Manitoba, where my dad was the town drunk. From my youngest memories to age seven, I saw nothing but violence and abuse where my dad beat my mom and eventually my nine-year-old brother. He once tried to kick in our car door while …Read More +
September 5th 2017 @ 11:15 AM
by Rachael O’Neil
If your dreams don’t scare you, they’re not big enough. That’s how the saying goes, at least. Never in my wildest dreams could I have envisioned where I am today. As a young girl, some of my big dreams involved getting married (to a preacher) and one day starting a family—three or four kids sounded nice. I’d dedicate my life to serving God and the …Read More +
July 6th 2017 @ 11:55 AM
I was six years old when my family moved to the small town of Salem, Illinois. I’m not sure why my parents made the decision to leave both of their families and all they had ever known. However, they later knew without a doubt they had made the right decision.
My parents did not attend church, but someone told my mom about a Pentecostal church in town. She …Read More +
June 29th 2017 @ 11:05 AM
On February 12, 2008, a new season of life became reality for me—widowhood. The morning after my husband’s funeral, I wanted to pull the covers over my head and never get up. As I lay there praying, the Lord sent comforting verses of Scripture to my mind.
“I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5, NKJV).
“My grace is sufficient for you” (II Corinthians 12:9, …Read More +