God help me to write my testimony and take all the shame away. Let me share your story for Your glory and build this ministry so that others may not feel alone in their brokenness and instead be reminded of how beloved they truly are.
I am sharing this story so that people understand in spite of my loving you with all my heart and soul, I still struggle with severe depression and anxiety. I fight for Your light every day of my life to remind me not to give up when the devil’s voice becomes too loud in my ear, which if I’m being completely honest happens more than I wish it did.
However, I know that You are the truth, the way, and the life.
Lord, you found me when I needed you most and saved me from myself. I promised you that one day I would tell my story in full, hoping it might help another lost, hurting soul and one day, create a ministry help to reach people who felt too broken to be loved. God, that day has come and I hope You use it to bless others.
Your light came into my life because of the cracks that were left in my heart from living in this dark, fallen world.
My struggles with mental health and being Christian don’t make me someone who doesn’t love You immensely or make me a bad Christian, they just make me human.
A human that loves you with every ounce of her being, and will spend her life trying to pay YOU back for the sacrifice of Your Son, Jesus, so that we may all feel beloved instead of so deeply broken and one day, be reunited with you in the most beautiful place that we could ever fathom. Thank you, Lord for letting me be heaven-bound <3 let me help share your message of hope, light and love so we can make heaven crowded!
In your Heavenly and most gracious name~Faithfully Yours, Kristen
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The one thing I will say is that the word Grace has been written all the way across my story and my mistakes. I have honestly never shared my testimony in its entirety. Most people who know me only know the bits and pieces I have shared through the years. This is the first time, I’ve revealed the whole shebang.
I came from a loving home with a lot of dysfunction. Simply stated, which unfortunately kept me silent when I should have told someone I was deeply hurting. It’s amazing how a dark scary story can hide behind a bright, sparkling smile and glitter.
The earliest memory where I feel the world first broke me was in my early preschool years. Someone who watched me didn’t always treat me kindly and would burn me with their cigarettes when I did something wrong and punish me in other harsh ways. There were countless other times but this was the most vivid. Until I was in junior high, I kept that secret along with the others. Still, only a few souls know this part of my story. I learned at a young age that the world can be cruel.
In my preschool years, I have these haunting memories of a dark stairwell that led to a broom closet at the top of the stairs where I was “locked up” all day for misbehaving. Misbehaving was simply talking when I was not supposed to or not being willing to take a nap. Overall, I was a great kid but this place didn’t treat me like one.
Looking back, I think God was with me even as a little girl in that dark broom closet at the top of the stairs. I would cry out of fear and couldn’t wait for my family to pick me up at the end of the day. I felt so alone. I never shared this truth with anyone until I was much older, as there were always much bigger problems at home, than mine.
This one blip of memory is how I think I’ve always seen my relationship with God…
Me as a little girl and Him protecting me, giving me light and blanketing me with peace in my darkest of times.
This was the first time I ever experienced utter darkness. Unfortunately, it would not be my last.
Then, I entered grade school. I was so excited but even on the first day I didn’t understand a single bit of school. Imagine the first day of kindergarten, you’re so excited only to realize you’re already behind. All the kids know their numbers, letters, etc. I still have memories of counting squirrels with nuts on the floor to learn my numbers with my Mom trying to play “catch-up”.
Due to this fact, I was constantly bullied when I was growing up. Of course, it got worse when I became more awkward, started wearing glasses, talked super fast with a high-pitched voice, and began developing pretty complicated obsessive-compulsive disorder tendencies.
Home was always loving but super unstable. I never knew what parent was gonna decide to leave. Those words were constantly uttered out of my mom's and dad’s mouths. They loved each other tremendously but both struggled with their own issues individually, which made it hard for a marriage to work as a healthy relationship needs constant and open communication.
My mom had her bags packed in the trunk of the car for most of my childhood. It is difficult for a kid to grow up so unstable. It makes you worry about every aspect of your life and what little you can control. This made my OCD much worse. For some odd reason, I would believe that if I could do these specific things, it would keep certain problems from happening in my life. Therefore, I would have to flick the light switch hundreds of times, or the car door etc. My OCD manifested into different things as I got older but it reared its ugly head in my younger years. I had no clue what the heck was wrong with me, that made it so much worse and honestly, caused a cloud of depression to live inside of me and started the journey to me hating myself, because I felt like I was so "messed up" and didn't ever understand the reasons why I would do these "crazy" things.
My family were the type who would do anything for anyone. They were very loving people. The problem wasn’t my upbringing per se but instead the things I experienced in my childhood and not ever telling anyone. My parents would have cared I just thought they had enough problems to face themselves.
My family had the philosophy that all good people go to heaven. There was never much of a mention of Jesus… so he was always something I was curious about but I didn’t really understand how life-altering having Him in your life is for someone. We were Chreasters: those Christians who go to church on Christmas and Easter. So, I knew God was important but had no clue what that meant in my life besides wearing a fancy dress twice a year and singing songs to me that were vaguely familiar.
When I was 12 years old, I met someone who I thought would be my first kiss (I was so naïve). He lied and told me he was only 14 — turns out he was 16, almost 17. He took advantage of me while I was still a child, and then for years after, would stalk me.
It made matters so much worse that the same day I was robbed of my innocence I chose to put on make-up for the first time. I also took off my glasses (so I was walking around blind for as long as I can remember — lol) and wore this super (I thought) cute Hang Ten shirt. Do you remember the ones with the embroidered feet on the shirt? I thought I looked so cool, and for the first time in I don’t know how long, I felt good in my own skin. That moment lasted that night and disappeared as fast as it came. I have spent the rest of my life learning how to feel good in my skin again.
After the incident that night I came home a different person and I didn’t tell anyone for years what had happened. The same night, my Mom chose to leave my Dad due to his battle with alcohol and their rocky marriage. That summer, everything changed for me. I honestly can say I’ve never been the same since that day.
This incident along with some harsh comments about my weight (honestly, I didn’t have a weight problem) caused me to spiral out of control into a full-fledged eating disorder for 5+ years. Again, no one knew for years. I was able to hide the ugly truth behind baggier clothes and “eating” my meals at odd times, my family was so distracted they never really noticed.
During that time, I also believed I had a miscarriage after the incident when I was 12. I pretty much dealt with all of this as a teen by myself, not because no one would care but, in my mind, everyone else had their own much BIGGER problems.
I went into severe depression and my obsessive-compulsive disorder worsened drastically and I developed PTSD and severe anxiety.
I was 12 then turning 13 and the girl who once loved shades of purple, all things whimsical and sparkly turned her whole room black/grey. The world felt dark, and I felt utterly alone.
Although I was loved, I felt completely alone. I masked much of this feeling inside with a smile for years but I was in deep pain that I hid from the world.
During those years, I attempted to take my life multiple times but would always get interrupted. I remember one time I went to take a whole bottle of pills and my best friend called me. She had no clue and still does not to this day that she stopped me from putting myself out of my “misery.”
After the phone call with her, I realized people did care about me. I wasn’t all alone; I just sometimes needed to remind myself.
However, it wasn’t until I became a little older and a preacher’s son caught my eye and invited me to church one morning that things really did start to change…
In the beginning, if I’m being totally honest, I would go to see my cute boyfriend, the “preacher’s son”. I didn’t really pay a whole lot of attention to what was going on in church. For some reason, I kept missing the part about our relationship with Jesus. I thought He really didn’t want me. I was too broken to be loved. Instead, during that time, my self-esteem and happiness were wrapped up in one young teenage boy and at least for a bit, I felt happy with life and at peace, for the first time in a long time.
Then, the day came that cute boyfriend of mine broke my heart into a million pieces, and my youth pastor said, “Kristen I want to have a talk with you.” I was 16. He said to me, Kristen, “Are you coming to church for Chris (my cute ex-boyfriend) or for Christ?” Right then and there, Jesus pierced my heart. I went to church service that day and the song playing in worship was “Shout to the Lord”. That was it. I gave my life to Christ that day.
Here's the thing though. What happens to a girl who doesn’t yet know her identity in Christ? A girl who is hurting and still has told no one, and just has been saved?
I will tell you she still battles her demons, suicidal ideation, and self-worth struggles but she does it all alone, not really understanding how much Jesus loves her.
That’s what happened. My self-esteem was wrapped up in this boy who broke my heart and now I had this new relationship with Jesus, but honestly, I didn’t know what to do with it.
So, the suicidal ideation continued, the self-hatred continued, and the eating disorder continued for quite a bit longer.
Until one fateful day, I tried to take my life in the bathtub. Again, I was in so much pain and anguish that I couldn’t process even years later, and I still hadn’t told a soul probably for fear of being judged, and the boy who I thought would love me forever had just devastated me. Ahhh, the teenage years. I couldn’t even sleep for weeks that’s how much I loved him. I had Jesus, and that was great, but again I didn’t really know what that truly meant just yet.
Well, when I slipped under, I thought this is it… It was the end of something, but not the end I thought it would be.
In past, I had almost drowned multiple times so I definitely knew that water was my greatest fear. I slowly slipped under and when I was submerged this voice spoke to my heart saying, “Kristen, don’t you know just how much I love you?” You are my Beloved.
This statement changed my heart forever. I might have given my heart to the Lord a few years before that but this was the day that I chose to live my life for the Lord and never look back.
After that day, I never once used a guy to define my self-worth or anyone for that matter. It took time but I slowly started to see myself how Christ sees me, and I dedicated my life to sharing my story with others. Beating my own drum, the way Christ made me with all the sparkles and all the extra because Jesus took my shame away and He loved me no matter what — nothing was ever going to change that truth.
Even as the little girl who was terrified all alone in the dark broom closet at the top of the stairs, Jesus was with me, He was always there. It just took me years to finally understand I was never all alone. I had a Savior that loved me, all of me, throughout my whole life and I had finally come to know Him.
P.S. For the rest of the story, you will have to stay tuned, but I hope you enjoyed Part I and it showed you the true power of what it means when Jesus enters our hearts. Did you expect it to be short? You should have known with a girl who has the nickname “long story short”, that once God worked on her heart enough (25+ years in the making) to share her story, it would open the floodgates. I hope it blessed those who read the words that were hard to write but came from the depths of my heart. God bless all you amazing VIPeeps (Very Important People to Jesus and this Broken + Beloved community).
Love your sister in Christ~ Kristen