I use to punch people

I use to punch people. Don't believe me? Ask Azia, she knows everything. Sometimes I still want to punch people. There are actually a couple people I could punch and when they'd turn the other cheek, I'd punch em again.

Anger? Bitterness? Insecurities? Hurt? Fear? Pure fun? A little bit of everything here.

Now, let me set something straight. I never would go around randomly hitting whoever looked at me funny. It was always someone that invaded my privacy, grabbed me the wrong way, called me the wrong name, disrespecting me, my womanhood. Call me a crazy feminist and you're 92% dead on.

Even in my rebellious, crazy, blinded days I knew I was worth more than, "Damn girl." When we'd go out and guys would hit on me, it didn't feel good. It made me feel worse. As the time went on I became more broken than ever. I was hurt because I knew I had an amazing heart and no one saw it. Then, slowly but surely resulted into this tough girl literally punching people in the face when they disrespected me. I have a soul, thoughts and dreams! Why didn't they see this? Rather, they rated my body on a scale from one to ten, it made me want to vomit. There were some nights I loathed in men's disrespect so much I drank myself to getting sick, everywhere.

 Broken heart after broken heart, not knowing value nor feeling real love. This is a vicious cycle the world has going and it will never stop. At least that's what I thought, until I found Him. 

Him. My prince charming, the love of my live. The one that could (and did) put my shattered heart back together. Jesus Christ. 

When I took God as my savior I thought everything was going to be unicorns and glitter! I obviously didn't realize what I was getting myself into.

It has been rough. Looking back on the past, feeling the pain rather than avoiding it with the next drink. Opening those scars and letting Him heal them to new skin, it hurt. But it has been so worth it. Over a year ago I had a friend tell me, "Sarah, I know many girls that have been victims of rape with horrible past and they each have been completely restored. You will be too, just keep pressing on The Lord." I didn't believe him.

For eight years I had the person that stole my innocence from me haunt my mind everyday. I'd wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night over and over again. There was one point where I shut off my phone for several days, hermitting  from everything. I planned on visiting him in jail to face him. To ask him, why me?


That's when I learned to lean on God. Yes, He was opening up pain I had been avoiding for years but He was also healing my heart. Taking off the bandages and having me rely on Him, not the false fixes. I didn't need to go back and get answers, I needed to look forward to the glorious Father that was waiting for me.

I dove into the word, spent hours praying and started to share my story. The actual story. God has used this part of my life. He's used my broken heart turned crazy more than I ever thought He would. I had no idea I'd one day be mentoring high school girls with the same things happening in their lives. I didn't even know what mentoring was! And to use my story to help them down the path to the Lord!? It was definitely worth all the pain, the sleepless nights and the lonely lunch periods. If I had to, I'd live those years over and over again to help these girls.

God is using me, why? Because He loves me and has an amazing plan for me. You want to know what's most beautiful about that statement? I finally believe it.




All Glory To God.

A family, finally together

When I walked in the door of my mother's house this past Sunday I prepared myself. I knew it was going to be a bit of a hectic stress mess with my little brother rushing around getting everything thrown into a backpack.

My guess was correct. He had his bag on the couch with everything he needed beside it. Socks, two pairs of underwear, a folder with his high school diploma and another set of clothes. His stubbornness surfaced and nerves were being thrown everywhere, yelling every which way he faced. In his favorite jeans and buckeye hoodie on he was about ready. The day had finally come after five months of anticipation. He was leaving for boot camp.

The house felt broken. It felt stressed and anxious. I tired my best to keep my patience, to change the atmosphere. But it was too strong for my current state of weakness. I backed off with a little prayer in mind, then it came.

My step father, a six foot six, muscular, very scary, bearded black man walked down from the room he often locks himself in. I felt it, the Holy Spirit was present. "Praise Jesus" I thought. As he walked down the steps singing an old Luniz song (I got 5 on it) my unsaved brother felt it too, I could tell by the smile on his face. Actually it was more than a smile I saw, it was stubbornness turned to joy. I giggled, knowing that's something my brother is going to miss. Jamie (my step dad) singing everything from Fall Out Boy to 2Pac while he goes about his day. It use to annoy me but I must admit, since I've moved it's something I miss too.

After Jamie topped off his coffee and he walked in the slightly more calm living room he said, "What are ya'll doing! Mommy, put down that check list, Tim stop trippin boy. It's time to pray!" I've never seen my mother's mouth drop so quickly. I was shocked myself. You see, this was not something that happens in my family. Before Thanksgiving dinner, of course. But to come together? As a family? And pray? For a current situation or worry or stress. UNHEARD OF. After I realized what was about to happen the Holy Spirit had already brought tears to my eyes. The thought that my little brother would be able to experience God's love the way I've been blessed with so many times, for the absolute very first time was breath taking. Even the thought of it now brings me tears, tears of joy.

Then, we all kneeled down at the couch. Jamie spread his arms across all of us and began the prayer. I've never heard him pray before, it was one of the most beautiful things God granted my ears to hear. I could tell my little brother didn't really know how to take it all in. He was a little embarrassed, he felt a tug on his heart and he became more curious of what living with God is truly like. He may not realize it yet, but he did.

I was so proud of Jamie that day. For doing his part in the family as a man, a holy man, a man of God. It was something I had been yearning to experience for years. A family, a family together, truly together.

Now, my brother is unsaved at the moment. I've tried to talk to him about Jesus many times but he doesn't understand. It was hard for me to accept the fact that he's on God's time, not mine. If it was my choice he would have been slaying demons a long time ago. But I know The Lord has the perfect time for him and I have faith that it will happen. If you're reading this, please send a prayer up for my brother to look to the Father and to let God have his heart.

Thank you.

ALL GLORY TO GOD.

The last hair cut before he left! Jamie and Tim.:)