Stories of Hope
There was a time in my life when I was overcome with hopelessness. Little by little this oppressive emotion added weight upon my heart. How can you hope when every area of your life is failing?
I remember one particular day putting a wig on my baldhead, the result of chemotherapy, and I visited my son behind a heavy glass window at the county jail. His arrest had confirmed my suspicions--my son was abusing drugs. This report was just one negative report from one child that month; there were others. Although my husband had once been someone to whom I could run, he was now distant and unavailable. I felt so alone with no hope in my life.
I remember wishing God could just talk to me and tell me there was a reason to hope. With nowhere to turn, I picked up the Bible and looked in the concordance for the word h-o-p-e. This is what I found:
Romans 15:13: "May the God of all hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
God Almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth began to speak to me through His word. He is the God of HOPE. He is the source of HOPE, and He could fill me with joy and peace no matter the circumstances. I simply must trust in Him, not my children, not my husband, not the doctor reports, not even in my own ability--HIM! Not only can I have HOPE, I can overflow with this beautiful, life-giving emotion if I will simply receive it from the Holy Spirit.
Once I held onto this hope, my faith began to increase. I wrote down on a piece of paper what I wanted to see in my life. I wrote the names of my children. I wrote that they were happy and healthy. I wrote that they were making good choices and walking in the victory of their Savior. I wrote about my wonderful marriage and how my husband adored me. Nothing in front of me at that time confirmed that these words of hope and faith were possible, but God's word says:
Hebrews 11:1: "Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see."
Often, I read the words of hope written on that single piece of notebook paper. Sometimes I read them out loud, sometimes silently. In time, the weight upon my heart began to lift as I began to think about the victory that would come. I began to smile again. I had found my joy, and I had hope.
On my desk beside me as I am writing this message to you, is my book, "I Could Not Save the Little Bird." Within its pages, I tell the story of finding hope and seeing the fruition of that for which I hoped. Recently, I had the opportunity to speak at a fundraiser banquet that was held to raise money to build a recovery center. At the end of my story, I told the audience, "I would now like to show you evidence of what a Savior can do once we let go of our loved ones." Then, I introduced my son. A photographer captured the moment of me receiving a hug from his young man transformed by the power of God. The audience responded to his testimony with applause and tears. I walked off the stage into the arms of the husband who adores me.
If you are feeling hopeless, I encourage you to let the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him. You, too, can overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit, and you can see that for which you hope. Just be confident and have assurance about what you do not yet see.
My wife Shelley and I were married on August 15, 1998. Our family jokingly called us the greatest 'HITZ' of 1998. During our first year of marriage, we enjoyed a blissful time as newlyweds. Shelley was a budding Physical Therapist and I had recently taken a full-time position as a Campus Life Director with Youth For Christ in Findlay, Ohio. Living in an apartment within a triplex house where the rent was a mere $350/month, we were able to pay down our college loans in a hurry. Life was busy, yet good.
Then reality hit during our second year of marriage.
As two first born children, Shelley and I began butting heads more often in what seemed to be a struggle for power and control. As someone who comes from a history of stubbornness on both sides of my family, I wasn't about to give an inch! And I especially didn't what my young wife telling me--the man of the house--how to do things.
And so we yelled, argued, and threw things (fortunately not at each other) over the course of that stormy second year. One of my not-so-proud moments came late one night when at the height of an argument I decided to take our outdated phone and heave it out the back door onto our sidewalk. We needed a new phone anyway, right?
Something had to change or this marriage was about to experience an early death. What was a marriage of bliss was soon becoming a marriage from the abyss. It seemed that each agreement or disagreement was escalating to a new level. How could this happen between two people who followed Jesus?
It can be summed up in one word: Selfishness
"For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you will find disorder and every kind of evil practice" (James 3:16).
Unfortunately, we were both full of this spiritual virus, but me especially. I certainly wasn't loving my wife as Christ loves the Church (Eph. 5:25). Whenever two people are at odds, it usually takes one person to take the initiative in making amends, in our case Shelley took the higher road.
Shelley decided to consult her mom about our situation and ask for some advice. Looking back, I'm thankful for the advice Shelley received since it completely changed the trajectory of where the marriage was heading. The words of wisdom she received were, "the only person you can change is yourself."
It was like a light bulb came on in Shelley's head. She recognized that as much as she saw things in me she wanted to change, the only thing she could really control was her own actions and responses to me. This began to make all the difference in our relationship. As she began to relinquish control to the Lord, I took notice. I remember feeling like a loser during those times when I wanted to control things. As I saw what the Lord was doing in Shelley, it motived me to also surrender and truly allow Jesus to be Lord.
This past August, we celebrated 17 years together. We've had plenty of bumps along the way as the Lord has sharpened us. Year number seven was also a hard year (7 year itch?) but we survived. I know we can both honestly say that we've grown in our love toward one another with each passing year. I would say we're currently enjoying a "sweet spot" as a couple. I find myself thanking the Lord regularly for such an incredible wife who loves me unconditionally. She is a joy to wake up to!
If you are struggling in your marriage, there is hope. When a husband and wife choose to completely surrender to the Lord, selfishness is replaced with selflessness.
Forgiveness Formula: Finding Lasting Freedom in Christ, CJ Hitz
I grew up in a dysfunctional home with a step-father who was an alcoholic and my abuser. In 1985, I became a teenage mother and moved to the Bible-belt. I did not grow up in the church like my husband, so you can imagine the shame and guilt I felt knowing that people could do the math and realize we had not been married long enough to have a child.
A few years into our marriage, I had an affair. I was lonely. My husband worked a lot of hours to keep food on the table, and my go-to behavior was men. I told my husband about the affair, so we immediately called the Pastor. The Pastor's response was to talk about it that night and not bring it up again. Although we followed his advice, it was not the best advice for us.
Forward a few years, we moved even further south and got involved with a small church. I felt I had a lot to offer, so I jumped in with both feet. My resume included: Choir, Children's Choir, VBS Volunteer, Youth Group, Bible Bowl, Soccer Coach, and Fall Festival Outreach Coordinator. If the church doors were open, we were there. The problem was the Church was a social activity, and not a relationship with Jesus. Even thought I had this very impressive resume, I still never felt good enough to get into heaven. I always felt there was more I needed to do so that God would forgive me for all of my past mistakes.
The summer I was a youth counselor at camp, a speaker said something that really hit my heart: "If you were to die tonight, do you know for sure that you would go to heaven? Because you see in the Bible it says in Matthew 7, "And on that day many will say to me, 'Lord, Lord, did we NOT...'" and at that point, all I heard was my resume. Before I knew it, I was in the back talking to an older woman. At that moment, all I knew was I wanted to go to heaven, so I prayed the pray she told me to pray. Afterward, I was back with the youth group singing songs under the pavilion.
I returned home to tell my husband what happened at camp, but he didn't believe that I had not already been a Christian, so this created problems for us. As a new Christian I was eager to learn. I listened to the Pastor and took everything he said as truth without studying the Word for myself. This particular church was adamant about women submitting to their husbands. My best friend even gave me a book on submission. So instead of learning to submit the way the Bible teaches, I started to lose who I was as a person and eventually became a doormat.
During this time I became very unsure of myself, and my relationship with my husband took a turn for the worse. He had an affair with my best friend. I thought my life was over. But I turned to God and through prayer God redeemed our marriage and started us on a process of living our lives Against the Grain, which eventually turned into our God-given ministry.
Over the years, God had given me a powerful testimony, and I through God was done writing my story, until 2011, when I was the victim of a gang attack. I learned from police and clients that the attack was a warning to stop offering freedom to people held in the bondage of abuse, addiction, and negative cycles. That attack made me even more aware of the calling of God on my life, and how serious it is to be on the front lines for Jesus. After a few months of recovery, I was back ministering in the jails, knowing that my attacker, who was never caught, may one day walk into the class I was teaching.
Today God has turned my life around, and I feel He has me on a journey to help people who may not know where to start in learning who God really is, and now to break free from their past--all of the shame and guilt--and start finding HOPE.
As a child, I received nothing from my alcoholic father but abuse. When he died in a drunk driving accident, I was relieved knowing that my mother’s bloody beatings were over. Despite the abuse, I still longed for my father’s love even though I knew it was too late to ever receive.
I was nine years old at the time of his death which changed my home life drastically. My mother was now free from the daily abuse and she relinquished her parental role as a mother and wanted to become my best friend. This new relationship meant that without protection borders around my life, I was able to stay up as late as I wanted and began new friendships who valued my rebellious lifestyle. At the age of 14, I started selling drugs in school and was out of control. I no longer cared about my education or anyone with authority. My mother even joined me in the partying lifestyle and even introduced me to the local bar scene where we would drink alcohol and would dance with strangers.
At the age of sixteen, I was working in a local bar and returned home drunk at three in the morning. Three hours later, my brother woke me in a panic. He had found our mom dead in the garage. She had committed suicide. I will never forget trying to bring her back to life even though it was too late. I kept screaming, ‘don’t leave me; don’t leave me. Just please, please don’t leave me.’ I could not believe this happened and kept asking myself, “How could this happen to me? How could she just leave me?’ I needed her! I never wanted to lose her!”
From that time forward I dropped out of school and began supporting myself by continuing to work in local bars and restaurants. I was a complete wreck. I looked great on the outside but deep down I was that little tiny girl that did not know what real love was. All I knew was the best way to kill the pain was by medicating it with drugs, alcohol and relationships.
I justified my destructive lifestyle with the best excuses for fifteen more years until a dear friend and business partner saw how broken and desperate I was and encouraged me to get help. Because I respected her and loved her more than I loved myself, her words and love for me captured my attention because it was sincere and I agreed.
I started attending Alcoholic Anonymous (AA) meetings and heard life stories from others which opened my eyes and heart to the devastating truth about my own life. I had to embrace the fact that I was totally alone and had no relatives to help me. I also realized that although I was brought up in church, I did not even have God in my life or know who He was. And that is when I broke. In fact, I lost it! I got down on my knees and cried out to God and said, “If you’re really up there, I need you right now, right now to show up because I’m done!” As I continued to weep out my desperate brokenness, I suddenly felt a warm presence just fall upon me that brought such a strong sense of peace. This warm, and peaceful presence felt as if it was holding me like I was never held before. I did not know what it was and I did not even ask any questions. All I know is that my cry out to God was sincere and He heard me.
The very next day, I began looking for God and started going from church to church of all denominations just wanting to pray. Finally I heard the message of the Gospel and how Jesus died for me and all the things I have done and it was a free gift for those who wanted it! I wanted it! I did not know exactly what it all meant. All I heard was he died for my sins; they are washed away in His blood and he wanted to give me a new life. That was the day I accepted Jesus not only as my Savior, but also my Lord.
I was filled with the Holy Spirit and am so grateful that Jesus died for me. I mess up all the time and yet he still loves me. His loving, forgiving grace is just magnificent because He is not only awesome, but he is also coming back! Rosemary Fisher
On Sept 11, 2012, a panoramic x-ray showed that my entire left jaw was nearly gone. The oral surgeon told me I had this black mass where there should be bone. He told me he didn’t think it was cancer, but I needed to see a doctor at OSU because I would have to have my jaw reconstructed.
After hearing the news, all I could do the first two days was pray for God to take my life. I couldn’t bear the thought of going through that type of surgery. When it became obvious that God was not answering that prayer, I began to ask Him to heal my jaw. I wanted the tumor to just disappear and for new bone growth to develop in my jaw. Sadly, that prayer wasn’t answered either. Yet, even though God was not answering me in the way I wanted Him to, He was already at work in my life, preparing me in advance for what was to come.
Out of the blue that summer, I wanted to start camping. I bought a tent but my husband refused to camp in a tent; so, one day, as we drove home from church, we spotted a used RV for sale and ended up buying it. On our second trip out with the RV, I met a lady who worked in surgery at OSU. When I found out about the tumor that following September, I called her and she recommended the doctor I should go see. It was like God had sent me an angel as she answered my questions and explained the journey. Even now, as I think back to that terrible day, as I drove from the dentist office to the oral surgeon, the song, “The Anchor Holds,” was playing on the radio.
On October 8, 2012, the biopsy showed that it was ambeloblastoma and not cancer. Even though the tumor wasn’t cancerous, the doctor explained, in great detail, the complexity of the surgery and how important it was that he got every last cell so the tumor didn’t come back.
Oh how I dreaded that eight hour surgery. Yet, through it all, I could sense God’s presence with me. It was a comfort to know that many people were praying for me. As I awaited the surgery, I received many cards in the mail, and even found a support group online and spoke with a Christian lady over the phone who had this same type of tumor removed. I also received a prayer shawl from her, and a prayer shawl from a women's group from a church in a different state. The love and support I received from people during this time simply overwhelmed me.
Another way God prepared me for this surgery (before I even knew I had the tumor) was when I attended Ann Downing's annual women's retreat, MTWR. In the spring of that year (2012), I was asked to be a hostess for Patty Mason, one for the speakers. One of the books on Patty's table was the bible study, Transformed by Desire. I bought a copy, but our group didn't begin the study until September (one week before I found out about the tumor), and we finished the study in November (the week before the surgery). Oh how I needed that study. God's timing was perfect. Scripture after scripture in that study spoke to my heart, giving me the strength to make it through the surgery and through my recovery time from the surgery.
I was in the hospital for 7 days after the surgery on November 19th. After being sent home, I was readmitted for a fistula. After being sent home again, I was readmitted again for an abscess. At this point, I was really getting discouraged by the setbacks, but once again God was good. On the way to the hospital for my second readmission, I saw two separate rainbows. It was like God was telling me that everything was going to be okay after this time. After that, I began to count the times God sent a rainbow just when I needed one. For example, I would be worried about the tumor coming back, and then someone would post a rainbow on my FaceBook page.
Since the surgery, I’ve had two CT scans and a MRI to check for tumor reoccurrence and to check on the bone graft. I’m happy to report that I received good news all three times. I am utterly thankful to God for leading me through a journey I never thought I could travel through.
One particular Scripture that spoke to my heart was James 1:2-3. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.” Before the surgery, I had a hard time comprehending that scripture. However, when I was in the hospital I realized something: We consider it pure joy whenever we face trials, because it’s when we go through the storms of life, that’s when we feel God’s presence close to us. Oh what joy to feel God’s presence! God continues to be with me; and, because of going through my ameloblastoma journey, I feel closer to Him than ever before.
I considered myself an outgoing and happy person, but behind that smile I hid a multitude of anxieties, worries, and depression. Life has never been easy. From the time I was born two months premature, I had to fight to survive. By the age of six, I had been molested by a neighbor. At seven, my parents divorced. When my mother remarried, my stepfather began to molest me. The sexual abuse lasted for years as feeling of disgrace, fear, and shame filled my soul. By the time I was ten, the abuse increased and intensified, yet no one came to help—not even my mother who didn’t believe me when I told her what he was doing.
At school, I told a friend who informed our teacher. Immediately Protective Services were called in and our family went through counseling, and the allegation went to trial. During the trial my mother testified that I was lying and dreamt up the whole thing as a plot to break up their marriage. I was devastated. But her testimony was enough for the judge to rule in my stepfather’s favor. I was sent home with my abuser and continued to endure the sexual abuse for another three years. I felt worthless and alone.
At sixteen, I was living on my own—I got a job and found an apartment—but the pain of my past still haunted me. Determined to bury the past, I became reckless and looked for ways to numb the pain. My self-respect was gone. I immersed myself in parties, alcohol, drugs and sex. I became selfish and self-centered. I didn’t care about anyone or anything.
A year later, I met my first husband who had manic depression and was extremely abusive. When he refused to get help I should have left, but because I was terrified of him I couldn’t muster up the courage. When I got pregnant with our first child, he demanded that I get an abortion. It was then I made up my mind to leave—for good. Determined to keep my baby, I moved in with an old friend from high school. Two weeks later, he broke into my apartment with a loaded gun, threating to kill himself if I didn’t come back to him. I knew what he was doing. I understood his manipulation, but I couldn’t bear the guilt of someone taking his life because of me, so I gave in and a year later we were married and expecting our second child.
He was a violent man—abusive to our children, our dog, and to me. He never hit me, but in an effort to control me he would hit our children and constantly tell me I would be nothing without him. I tried to be a good wife, mother and homemaker, but my efforts weren’t enough. It wasn’t until the day he went completely overboard and slapped our oldest daughter across the room, that I had reached the end of my rope. The pain of staying outweighed the fear of being alone, so I packed up my daughters and went to a women’s shelter.
I returned to my childhood church seeking forgiveness and restoration. My church family provided storage for our belongings and enough gas money for us to make it to Texas. Convinced my husband would track us down I turned to the local sheriff for help. Comforted by his assurances, that if my husband did cross the city limits he would be apprehended, the girls and I settled into our new lives.
My second marriage wasn’t any better; only this time I married a clinically depressed alcoholic. I was clueless. I saw so much of his broken past as a reflection of my own that I just wanted to try and fix him. We struggled to stay together, his drinking turned into a daily occurrence, even after our daughter Emily was born. The tipping point came when he lost his job and could no longer work. I was working seven days a week—desperately trying to hold onto my family—but everything was falling apart. The guilt and shame of it all is still overwhelming. Two years after our divorce, he committed suicide.
With a trail of destruction behind me, depression ruled my life. I knew I had to find a way to turn my life around, but I also knew I couldn’t do it alone. I went to God and begged Him to forgive me and show me the way. I promised to give Him my whole life, to seek Him and praise Him for the rest of my life. Through His amazing grace, God has restored my life. He redeemed my past and delivered me from depression and addiction. By His grace I found the strength to forgive those who hurt me. I still struggle with trust and insecurity, but through God’s redeeming love I am finding redemption, comfort, and peace.
I am adopted and came to my family when I was nine days old. I was raised in a very loving and caring home, but I felt unwanted since my birth mother had relinquished me. I felt there must have been something terribly wrong with me for her to have left me. In my child’s mind, I blamed myself for her leaving, and decided I was not lovable or worthy of anything good. I felt like I belonged nowhere and that people could not be trusted. I did not trust love, because love equaled abandonment. I withdrew inside of myself and decided that I would only depend on myself. I loved my parents but did not allow myself to get close to them. For years I had this pervasive sense of sadness and loneliness inside, but I didn’t know why.
I had thought about my birth family throughout the years, but didn’t search for them until I turned forty. I was starting to awaken to the fact that I had serious post-adoption issues and wanted to find out why I had been given up. I hired a confidential intermediary to attempt to make contact with my birth mother, but she refused contact which devastated me. Her rejection sent me into a wave of anguish and grief unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I was finally grieving the loss of my birth mother which had been repressed for many years. I came to understand that I had lost my other half. I may have been an infant when the loss occurred, but I grew inside her womb for nine months and instinctively knew that she was gone.
I did locate my maternal birth family a couple of years ago, but found rejection once again. I reached out to my four siblings, but three of them refused contact. I had a brief relationship with one of my brothers, but he was not able to handle it, so it did not last. My birth mother died last year refusing to ever meet me, and my other brother, who I never met, died in March of this year. Those rejections hurt me deeply, and I had to grieve those losses. I had to make it through the bad to get to the good. It was not easy, but God helped me survive.
I realize through all the heartache and pain that God has been by my side every step of the way. I am stronger because of what He has taken me through. I feel like a new person with more depth and beauty because of His love for me. Now I realize their rejection of me has nothing to do with who I am. Their rejection is their unwillingness to look back at a time they would rather forget. My heart remains open to them should they ever decide they want a relationship, but it will be up to them to make contact. I will never regret finding them as I found myself—which is the best gift of all. I have developed a wonderful relationship with my birth father’s brother and his wife, and they are incredible blessings in my life. My parents have been very supportive of my reunion with my birth families, and we are much closer now. I do not know where I would be without them.
Through this experience, God has completely transformed my life and I am closer to Him than ever before. I am now studying to become a trauma and attachment therapist to help my fellow adoptees heal from their wounds of relinquishment. With the love and acceptance I found in Christ, I am allowing God to take the deep pain and turn it into a passion to help others find hope and healing.
The ophthalmologist shined a bright light into my eyes. "She did inherit it," he said to my parents and me. "You need to be prepared. There is no cure."
He leaned back in his chair and reassured us I'd not see any negative effect until the age of 60. But the doctor was wrong.
At the very same time, when I turned thirty and my father fifty-five, the retinal disease began to rob our peripheral vision.
In a matter of eighteen months, our vision closed in completely, leaving us both in darkness with no trace of shadows or color...only a dark gray nothing. My world crumbled as the black curtain fell, destroying the dreams my husband and I had for us and our three young sons.
But when I turned to God for hope and strength, He responded by opening my eyes to a new revelation.
My father had given me not only the RP gene, but the example of determination and tenacity as well.
Only a couple of decades prior, we were all living in Bolivia, our native land. At that time, he defied the family's opposition to move to America. Instead, he and mom worked tirelessly to satisfy the requirements imposed by the U.S. Immigration Department to enter the country and establish residency.
Once in the states, he overcame humiliation, intense loneliness, helplessness, and uncertainty. He endured ridicule because of his lack of fluency in English, but he pressed on. And he managed to gather enough money for the basics: rent for a small apartment, modest furniture from thrift stores, and a down payment on a car. Nine months later, he sent airline tickets for my mom, my brother, and me.
Years later, living in physical darkness, I look back and at what my father had shown me. He taught me the determination to move forward when facing adversity. He set an example proving that humility is crucial to success. He demonstrated commitment to God and family, and the importance of setting priorities.
Like a baby takes its first steps, holding tight to his father's hand, my dad held onto God as he stepped from the comfort of our hometown in Bolivia to the unknown in a foreign land.
I did the same as I stepped into the unfamiliarity of a sightless world. Holding onto God's hand, I gained confidence and learned the language of appreciation.
Gratitude is what my heart sees. Thankfulness for God's promise that when in the dark land of discouragement--in a place that is unfamiliar and the path is unknown--"His Word shall always be a lamp for my steps, and a light for my path" (Psalm 199:105).
With His light shining the way, fear faded away, joy was ignited, peace came to my heart, and today I have a passion to serve Him that allows me to see the beauty of a brand new world.
How about you? What does your heart see today? In the darkness of your circumstances, ask God to shine His light and show you beauty through His eyes--a beauty that will give you hope.
Janet Perez Eckles
Addiction is the best thing that ever happened to me. Now that’s not a sentence I thought I’d every say.
Twelve years ago, when addiction unleashed The Beast in my brain, I’d never have uttered those words.
When this Southern-Baptist-sheltered-only-child-goody-two-shoes girl grew into a successful pharmacist, wife, and mom of three, life was perfect. Until it wasn't.
The words, “Celeste, are you okay?” became my last memory. I'm told that I fell, wiping out the "P" through the "T" sections of the pharmacy shelves, leaving me with a badly broken nose, a broken tailbone, and quite a few bruises.
I’d had a grand-mal seizure.
After a confusing ambulance ride and visit to the E.R., the hospital released me with a prescription for Keppra to prevent seizures, Lortab for pain, and a referral to a surgeon for my broken nose.
During the two months following, Lortab became my “friend.” The soreness slowly dissipated from my muscles, and the bruises on my body faded away. The bruises on my soul, however, kept growing.
Once my nasal nightmare ended, I stopped taking the Lortab. Within a day, I started throwing up constantly. My body ached and I couldn’t remove the ice pick that was apparently lodged in my head. “Stomach flu?” I thought, "Well, I have this Lortab. I'll just take it for the aching while I'm getting over this." Within an hour I stopped throwing up. My heart fell to my stomach when I realized narcotic addiction had unleashed The Beast within, constantly wanting to be fed. My "friend" had now become my enemy and the key to my normal.
The Beast that morphed from my brain was relentless. It ravaged my body with constant nausea, migraine headaches, insomnia, and The Great Depression.
For the fourteen years I’d worked as a pharmacist, I dispensed medications for pain, sleep, depression, and anxiety every day, and could never understand the desperation people felt for these drugs. I now found myself in their shoes. Empathy lesson learned.
It took seven years, nineteen seizures, three head gashes; one split top lip, two slipped discs, a twice broken tailbone, a twice broken nose, one broken eye socket, constant headaches, insomnia, and The Great Depression for me to get it.
God was working on my soul.
I’m pretty hardheaded, but after seizure nineteen, something clicked. I stopped praying for healing. I stopped praying for the rapture. I started praying for God to show me his purpose for my life.
Seven weeks later, on Saturday, September 25, 2010, I woke up happy, excited, and energetic for the first time in seven years. God had given me an honest-to-goodness, old-fashioned miracle.
My need for any pill vanished right along with my seizures. Unbeknownst to anyone, I weaned off my seizure mediation. By January 1, 2011, freedom was my new best friend.
Modern medicine could have healed my body, but only God could heal my soul. Addiction was hell; but without it, I’d never have experienced the slaying of The Beast by my Savior and the true love that he has for me. A true miracle. I can now say, “Addiction saved my life.”
Those who share their story are people just like you, who, at one time, felt lost and alone. Yet, their lives turned around by the hope and deliverance they found in Jesus Christ.
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