healing – Page 3 – A Million God Stories

#111 Not Medicine, God Did!

June 6, 2020June 12, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Taylor Wurth

Twenty-two years ago, my wife and I were expecting our first child. When she had her first ultrasound, it showed a large black hole filling the abdomen of our baby. We knew this wasn’t normal. We learned that the black area was fluid. There was a blockage, and urine was not draining out of the baby’s bladder. The bladder was very swollen and urine was backing up into his kidneys. We were referred to a specialist, a perinatologist, that day. This doctor confirmed that our baby had the blockage of his bladder. A procedure was scheduled for the following Saturday in which the doctor would stick a needle through my wife’s belly and uterus into our baby’s bladder to drain the urine and maybe even place a stent to allow drainage.

My wife and I are both Christians and we had started a prayer chain at church. My dad talked to his dearest friend about our situation. His friend was a state senator, a school teacher, and a Christian evangelist. He called us the night before the procedure to pray with us over the phone. We were both on the phone with him and spent a long time talking with him as he felt led to pray for the healing of our baby. After he prayed for our baby, we felt a real peace about it. We realized we weren’t in control. It was really the first time that I felt completely helpless and out of control in a situation. We released the situation to God and continued to pray for a miracle. We knew that whatever the outcome, God would give us what we needed to deal with it.

The next day the doctor did an ultrasound of my wife’s uterus to look at our baby’s bladder. The volume of urine in the bladder had decreased and therefore they didn’t have to do the procedure to drain the urine. For the rest of the pregnancy, my wife continued to have about three ultrasounds a week to monitor his bladder and kidneys. The results of the ultrasounds varied but never were bad enough to need the draining procedure. However, he always had fluid on his kidneys and his bladder wall became thickened through the rest of the pregnancy. My wife was a nurse in the pediatric clinic and knew a pediatric nephrologist (kidney specialist). She asked this specialist what to expect regarding the condition of our son. She said if he survived he would need kidney dialysis and a kidney transplant. My wife responded, “I am going to pray that God heals him.” The doctor said we could pray all we want, but medically speaking that will never happen.

Family and friends and churches continued to pray for the healing of our son. When he was born, he peed on the doctor during the circumcision and everyone cried because this was a sign that his kidneys were working. Shortly after, a radiologist did a kidney test to assess his true kidney function. The results showed that his kidney and bladder functioned normally even though the doctor could see the area where the blockage had been. She saw a narrowing of the urethra (tube that carries urine out from bladder) but she said she did not think this would create any problems for him in the future. After this procedure, we stepped outside of the room with the doctor. She took my wife by the hand and said, “Medicine did not heal your son. God did.” We believed then and we believe now, that God worked a miracle and we are so grateful for this healing for our son.

A Million God Stories is a Christ-centered ministry which offers a platform for Christians from all streams of Christian faith to give praise for how God has worked in their lives. Christ heals in infinitely creative ways and we acknowledge that His way of helping may differ from person to person.

#105. Missionaries in the Mountains: A Light in Adversity

June 6, 2020May 15, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Amy Wallen Photography

My husband and I moved from Central Florida to become full-time missionaries in the mountains of Kentucky. God has been so faithful to us. We have many stories we could share!

Last summer, my husband found out he had throat cancer. We prayed, “Lord, we don’t know why this has happened but let this be for Your glory. Let us be a light for You.” A line from Lauren Daigle’s song Trust in You really resonated with us: “I want what you want, Lord, and nothing else.”

In September, my husband’s treatments were successfully completed. But on December 26, he began coughing up large amounts of blood. We went to the nearest hospital, but 5 pints of blood later we were on our way to the bigger regional hospital where he spent nine days in ICU. Thankfully, God got us over the mountain in time to receive care from the right doctor at the right hospital.

This was such a frightening time for me, but God reassured me. I felt the Lord impress upon me these words: “He is my child. I will take care of him.” I received a peace that passes understanding, and I released my husband completely to Him.

God answered our prayer to be a light. He gave us the opportunity to love on people. We met many hurting people in waiting rooms who needed hope. We were able to encourage and pray with them. We also had the opportunity to encourage and pray with some of the health care professionals we met during this time.

In the midst of adversity, God did more than we could ask or imagine. He provided comfort, peace, healing, provision, and many opportunities to minister to others. We are grateful.

How abundant are the good things
that you have stored up for those who fear you,
that you bestow in the sight of all,
on those who take refuge in you.

Psalm 31:19

#99 Returning to God

June 6, 2020April 21, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Erin E. Photography

This story is about how God healed my husband, brought good from illness, and brought together two of His children.

In 2010, Chris found a spot—which was melanoma—on his shoulder. It was removed. In 2013, the melanoma spot came back and was again removed. In 2014, he had a scan and the doctor found Stage 4 melanoma widespread throughout his body. The cancer was in his lymph nodes and a golf-ball-sized melanoma was found in his lungs. He was given only a few months to live.

It was discovered that Chris had the BRAF gene. This gene makes it more difficult for his cells to repair the damage of the sun, which led to his melanoma. Of all the specialists Chris could have gone to for care, God led us to just the right one. At the time of his diagnosis, there was an oncologist and researcher at Vanderbilt University who worked with the exact gene that Chris had and even had helped to develop the medication for this genetic problem. Vanderbilt was within easy driving distance from our home (and since this time, the oncologist/researcher has moved to a university much further away from us).

Chris was able to get an appointment with this oncologist/researcher and everything worked out just right for Chris to receive the experimental immunotherapy for the BRAF gene that was causing his problems. Even with the experimental therapy, there was a 92 percent chance that Chris would not live past a year, but it has been two years and still all the cancer is gone with no reoccurrence. The oncologist couldn’t believe it and told us that it is very rare to have complete elimination of the cancer with no reoccurrence. It is amazing.

We are so thankful to God for Chris’s healing and continued health. We also praise God for how he used Chris’s illness for good. Chris was my first boyfriend when I was 12 years old. We remained friends but walked down different roads. Even though Chris grew up in the church, he went through a rebellious period, a time when there was no openness in his heart. The breakthrough for Chris came in 2013 when the melanoma spot was found again on his shoulder. It was at that time that he began to seek the Lord. He also moved back to his hometown in 2013. I had never left our hometown, and when he returned, I saw the change in him and that he was more open to spiritual conversation. God brought us together and we got married.

We are so thankful for what the Lord has done for us…for healing Chris, for Chris’s transformation spiritually, and for bringing us together. Throughout this experience, God has given us both physical and spiritual strength. There has been so much growth and a new perspective on life. We go to Vanderbilt every four weeks for a checkup and scan. Regardless of the future, we are confident—now more than ever before—of God’s greatness. And we are so thankful to our great God who heals us and brings good out of difficult times.

I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 3:14

#94 Unstoppable Power of Prayer

June 6, 2020April 5, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Ashley Brown, Shining Light Photography

My testimony is from a time when I was 16 years old and I’d had my driver’s license for about two months. It was December 26, 2007 and I was going to pick up the girl I was dating at the time for a Christmas dinner at my house. The drive should have only been about 15–20 minutes, but after 30 minutes my mom called to see if we were headed back yet. She couldn’t reach me so she called my girlfriend, who told her that I had not gotten there yet.

They immediately knew something was wrong, so my brother instructed my girlfriend and her grandfather to go looking on a route he knew I would not have taken, and he went the way he knew I would have taken. Sure enough, about five miles up the road, my brother came upon my mom’s car upside down in a pasture field, with me being loaded into a helicopter in a corn field on the opposite side of the road. My wallet and phone were lost in the wreck, so at that point I was a John Doe—my brother had to tell them who I was. They did not expect me to even make it to the hospital alive.

I was told later how the accident happened. I went off the road on the right side, just before a sharp turn to the left. I overcorrected the car, went across the road, and hit a culvert that ran underneath the road in that turn. The car was actually going backwards as it hit the ditch and I was ejected nearly 100 feet out the back window.

From this point on is where God shows Himself in this story. I lived in a small town where cops were virtually nonexistent. Not that they weren’t around, but we never saw a cop on the road. Well, it just so happened that a police officer was traveling down the road just moments after my accident. He immediately radioed in for a helicopter, knowing that an ambulance would not be adequate. The local rescue teams were rushed out to try to maintain stability until the copter arrived. Once I was in the helicopter, they put me in a medically-induced coma that was only meant to last a couple days, at the longest, and my brother led the officer to our house to break the news to Mom.

I was flown to Deaconess Hospital in Evansville, Indiana, where I spent two weeks in ICU. I had fractured a vertebra, fractured my pelvis, broke some ribs, broke my collarbone, and had a severe TBI (traumatic brain injury). Most importantly, though, I was still alive. The night of the accident, when I was flown to the hospital, I believe word traveled so fast in that town that some of my friends and family may have beaten me to that hospital. My friends, family, and church family filled that hospital floor to the point where no one else could even think about coming in. They were all lifting me up in prayer, and that is the reason why I am still here today and can tell you this story. I was put on prayer chains all across this nation and even in other countries.

From ICU at Deaconess, I was moved to a rehab hospital in Evansville. At this point, however, I was still in a coma, which I stayed in for three more weeks at Healthsouth. When I finally started to regain consciousness, I began therapy to “re-learn” everything again from eating and talking to bathing and walking. Therapy lasted about six to seven months in total, and I am more than thankful for the recovery God has given me. I have learned that so many people that have gone through what I went through are left unable to talk, walk, eat, or function independently. I would like to think that the average person who meets me today would never even be able to guess what I went through.

I do not remember how the wreck happened or even leaving the house or what happened the seven hours before I left the house that day. I do know that God was with me and He wrapped His arms around me that entire time, and that prayer is a powerful machine that can move mountains. I hope my testimony allows everyone who reads it to see the power in prayer and the unstoppable force of our Almighty God when we call upon His name. I hope this story gives you hope and perseverance in whatever you are going through today so that you are able to come out a stronger person more reliant on God.

A couple verses I would like to share with you that really kept my family and me strong throughout this whole time are Joshua 1:9 “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go,” and Jeremiah 29:11 “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’”

#85 When We Become Dependent On God, Our Real Adventure Begins

September 13, 2020February 25, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Renee Toole

I grew up in Chile attending a church started by US missionaries where I was baptized. One of my main connections with Jesus at an early age was to experience Him as a restorer through the prayer of my mother. When I was five years old, an older kid tricked me to do sexual activities without mentioning it to my parents. I didn’t know what I was doing, but after a while when I was nine years old I began to have nightmares about it. I felt much shame and pain. I remember feeling the voice of the enemy whispering that this episode defined who I was.

My mother took me to psychiatrists, but none could help. She gave up on the doctors and began praying out loud for me every night, and speaking the truth about who I was and how God felt about me. God worked through my mom’s prayers and I was restored and healed completely. I learned that experiences don’t define us—only God does.

In the midst of this crisis, the US missionaries left Chile and my parents got divorced. God became sidelined in my life and tennis became my main priority. At 18 I set in my heart that I was to become a professional tennis player, but just as I was about to begin traveling, I received a full scholarship to play tennis at a US college. I didn’t want to go but my parents wanted me to go, so I went. I didn’t know anyone and was very lonely. I joined a fraternity to be accepted and have friends. But after much drinking and partying, I was ready for a change in my life. I didn’t speak the language well and this made it hard to go to church. However, even though I didn’t go to church, I remember praying, “God, help me to change the world with You.”

During my sophomore year, another Chilean student came to the same small college I was attending. He was from my hometown but I didn’t know him. I felt like I needed to be his friend. There was something different about him that I wanted. I took him to parties and tried to get him into my world but I knew he was uncomfortable. So we stopped the parties and just hung out. He always talked to me about God and this was in my own language, which really helped me. He told me about miracles and encountering God. This challenged me because I had never heard about this. His faith was more of a relationship than a religion.

One morning at 3 a.m. we were studying for a Chemistry test and he asked me, “Is Jesus the center of your life?” When I heard this I was convicted of my lifestyle. I could not lie. I asked him, “Does God want to be the center of my life? Is this possible?” He said, “Yes, it is the only way.” So I turned completely to God that night. I felt God inviting me to a great adventure. I felt God’s love, God’s power.

I became a new person and little by little started to make radical changes in my life. I knew God was calling me to something greater. I started to read the Bible like crazy and tell everybody about how amazing Jesus was. I began worshiping by playing guitar and singing (as I had done as a kid). I remember riding a skateboard and praying, “I want to change the nations with You, Lord.” The Lord spoke back and said, “Why don’t you begin with that homeless man in the street?” He narrowed down my view from the world to the right here, right now. “What are you going to do about that man who is right in front of you?”

That summer instead of going home, I went to live in a homeless shelter. After two weeks, I was burned out and regretted coming. Their problems were bigger than my faith. I had been preaching the gospel but it wasn’t working and no one had been saved. I was operating on my own efforts, wanting to be the Christian superhero, but the Lord invited me to the real journey. The journey was about Him. I heard Him say the John 15:5 verse, “Apart from me you can do nothing.” Two days later a friend texted me that same verse. I stopped what I had been doing at the shelter and instead got up early every morning to abide in God and get to know Him. I prayed, sang, and fasted. I was filled with joy but no one knew why I was so happy. After a week, a homeless man asked me, “What are you doing in the morning?” Then the homeless men asked me to come outside and play for them what I was doing in the morning. So I worshipped outside with them. The first time I worshipped outside with them, God came and encountered all of us. Most every day we did this, and as we worshipped, many would repent and surrender to Jesus. There was deliverance from addictions, forgiveness, reconciliation, and love for one another. We became a family because God’s presence was there.

We must make God the center of our lives. When we do, we will experience God’s love and presence more deeply and find the place we really belong, a place of intimacy with our Father. When we become dependent on God and surrender, God’s power is unleashed in amazing ways, and our real life adventure begins.

#83 “God Is Good And Wants To Heal Her”

June 6, 2020February 20, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Ashley Brown, Shining Light Photography

A number of years ago, I was called to the University of Kentucky Children’s Hospital to pray for a child. I was told that she was a four-year-old from Eastern Kentucky who had been airlifted to Lexington. She had fallen on the playground and had broken vertebrae in the upper part of her neck. She was paralyzed from the nose down and was currently on a ventilator so that she could breathe. A pastor friend of mine had been visiting her faithfully each day since the accident, but was going out of town. He asked if I could fill in for him until he returned.

At that time, I was the mother of three young children (7, 4, and 2 years old). I dropped my children off at my mother-in-law’s house so that I could make the hospital visit. I was not prepared for what I saw or what God would do. As I walked into the room, I was overcome with compassion. This child was absolutely beautiful. She had a gorgeous blond ponytail that filled the pillow above her head, and crystal blue eyes. All she could do was look at me through those eyes, because, of course, she could not move. She looked bewildered and afraid.

All I could think about was my healthy four-year-old, and I was overcome with compassion for her. Her grandmother was in the room and told me how they had just given the child a sedative. That morning her sister had visited for the first time and she was very agitated because she could not move or talk to her. As we stood there talking, she fell asleep. The grandmother said that she was believing for a miracle, and that if God would heal her, she would spend the rest of her life testifying about His goodness.

All of a sudden, faith rose up inside of me. I can honestly say it was supernatural. I boldly said, “God is not going to heal her because you are going to testify about it—God is going to heal her because He is a good God and wants to heal her!”

Then I grabbed the little girl’s leg and she opened her eyes. I freaked out! I was more surprised than anyone. I said, “Did you see that? She opened her eyes when I touched her leg?” The grandmother and I just stood there staring at each other, amazed at what we saw.

The little girl fell back asleep and I left to retrieve my children. The next morning, I received a phone call from my mother-in-law. She was super excited and said, “Did you see the news this morning? That little girl you went and prayed for was on the news!” She relayed the story she had seen on the television that morning. According to the nurses, they were sitting in the nurses’ station in the middle of the night when this little girl crawled out of bed and walked into the room! God had completely healed her!! God is truly a good God!

#81 My Weakness and Shame Brought Into His Strength and Victory

June 6, 2020February 15, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Nicole Tarpoff

Since high school, I’ve always known what the Lord was calling me into—ministry, worship, and music. I always knew that His promises for me were big ones. But along the way, I got distracted by pride, greed, jealousy, boys—you name it. I got so distracted that eventually my worth and identity were found in worthless things.

When I was a freshman in college, my boyfriend, who I thought I would be with forever (go ahead and raise the red flag here) suddenly broke up with me because “God told him to.” Instantly, the lies were accepted in my heart that God wanted me to suffer. That I wasn’t actually worth anything to Him. The Jesus that I used to sing about didn’t actually love me and that He died for me out of obligation. That nobody would ever love me and that I was alone. My own desire to be separated from God and the pain I thought He was causing, led me into self-deprecating thoughts and actions. I began hurting myself and concocting ways that I could possibly end my life, and I began to hear voices in my heart that encouraged me to do so.

A professor at the college I attended, by what I believe to be divine inspiration, started noticing me. I was making sure that I was covering up my pain both physically and emotionally, but still, she saw me. She gave me words of encouragement about how she has dealt with depression. To not give up on God. That there was hope. It was like water to my arid heart. Through her words, some particular wounds began to heal and I was at least able to pray again and allow Him to replace some lies with His truth. But still there were other lies that were deeply rooted in my heart about His affection toward me.

Fast forward eight years, and I thought that particular part of my life had been healed. I was pretty much satisfied with the way things were going. I had gotten married to a wonderful man, been actively involved in my church in Lexington, and was going through an intense interview process to be on staff at that church. The morning of my second interview, I looked at myself in the mirror and the Holy Spirit said to me, “They’re going to ask you about your past and you’re going to tell them about your freshman year.” Instantly, tears were streaming down my face with the desire to keep that part hidden. I didn’t want to admit how much I had been deceived into thinking the thoughts that I did. I had never shared this part of my life with anybody and now I would share it with people that I was trying really hard to impress.

I wanted to appear to be the perfect candidate, but through faith, I obeyed. I cried through the whole thing and it was still painful and felt shameful. So later that night I went out for a drive and I just cried out to God and said, “I still feel so ashamed!” and His voice pierced my heart with a choice. He said, “You don’t have to be ashamed.” He showed me that what I thought were my weaknesses and losses could be brought into His strength and victory if I would let Him—that my worship could be more powerful coming from a once broken place than a place that’s never known His power and healing.

And from that place I’ve seen Him do wonderful things. I’ve seen Him cultivate vegetation where it was once dry, dead, and cracked. I’ve seen Him produce fruit! Now when I sing and worship, it comes from that place. Not just by what I’ve heard about my Father, but what I’ve experienced of His love! It’s by His power and His presence that my heart has been made new, and it can sing again! What I used to hate about my past has now become very precious to me, but only because God has done something through it! I’m just so thankful.

#80 Trying To Take God’s Job From Him

June 6, 2020February 13, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Erin E. Photography

It’s about two in the morning. I’m sound asleep, and my phone rings. Tired and confused, I look at my phone and see that my older brother is calling me. I pick up the phone and he frantically says, “I need you to go check on Dad; I don’t think he’s okay.” So I spring out of bed and run downstairs to find that the door to my dad’s workshop is locked with hard rock music blasting from the inside. I bang on the door, preparing to knock it down, when he opens it and is intoxicated to the point he can’t stand by himself or hold a conversation. I immediately rush my dad to the hospital, where I sit with him for six hours as he cries and begs the doctors to let him die. They were able to save him and kept him for an extra two days to ensure he wouldn’t try it again.

In the wake of this disaster, I was left depressed, confused, filled with anxiety, and unable to sleep—for every time I closed my eyes, all I could hear was my father crying. I tried drowning my problems with food, with counseling, and even with staying so busy I had no time to think. Not even blasting music through my headphones at night helped me to escape. The worst part of all of it is that I couldn’t drive past my parents’ neighborhood, let alone hug my own mother, without having a panic attack. I also blamed myself for all the madness my little brother had to witness, because I was no longer there to shelter him from it.

After months of depression, I started to forget who I was and what my purpose in life was, and I found myself sitting in my car late at night, questioning whether or not anyone would notice if I was gone, and thinking to myself about how easy it would be to simply leave the car on, fall asleep, and never wake up. Instead of deciding to go through with it, I called one of my friends, Keith, who offered to let me stay on his couch for a few days to help me get past it. He helped me to get over my depression and taught me how to rely on God more than I ever thought I could. He taught me how to give my depression over to Him.

But no matter how hard I tried, the anxiety that came from seeing or talking to my parents just wouldn’t go away. I was so torn. I tried giving my parents more and more tries by spending time with them, hopefully convincing them that their drinking was a problem, but they would only get offended and continue drinking. The worst part of it was that I still felt anxious being around them, so I felt guilty for not wanting to help or see them. My other option was to just avoid them entirely and pray for them, but this seemed to only do harm because they would constantly call me to tell me they were angry at me for avoiding them.

For months I went back and forth between these two options, only to discover that neither would work. I eventually had a conversation with my mentor who told me that a lot of my anxiety was coming from the fact that I was not fully trusting in the power of the Gospel to move in my parents’ lives and that I was taking their salvation in my own hands, not realizing that all I can do is preach the Gospel to them when they are willing to listen, knowing that salvation rests in God’s hands. He also told me that I was being the parent, when God is calling me to be the child. I prayed to God, asking for forgiveness for trying to take His job from Him, and I asked Him to take it back. I prayed that God would work a miracle in my family and that He would bring us together again.

I got a call from my dad not too long afterwards, telling me that he and my mother were waking up early every morning to read the Bible together, and that he threw all of the alcohol out of his house to get over his addiction. Finally, I no longer get anxious at the sight or thought of my parents, and I no longer daydream about what it would be like to no longer be alive. God has healed my family and He has healed me.

#71 I’m So Glad I Listened To God

June 6, 2020January 23, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Laura Wilkerson Photography

Several years ago, a mama cow protecting her baby attacked my son and me. We went to the ER for treatment. I went into shock and they thought they lost me, but they didn’t find internal injuries and found only three fractured vertebrae. They said they did not know how we lived through that impact without sustaining internal injuries. They said it was nothing short of a miracle, and sent us home that day.

I had a long road to get better. I knew my son was fine, but I was not! I went to the doctor about a week later and immediately they sent me to surgery to drain the football-sized hematoma. I had it drained about three times. I was referred to orthopedics and they would not do any tests on me, even though I had insurance and had it approved to have an MRI. I knew I had more than three fractures; something wasn’t right! As I left in tears and deep frustration, I thought of my long-time patient who was a neurosurgeon, Dr. E. I called him and asked him what I should do. I knew he was a wonderful Christian man, and if anyone could help me it would be him! He had me in his office the next week. He ran several tests and X-rays and told me I had nine fractured vertebrae and said I was very close to severing my spine because he knew I had gone three months with no treatment! Long story short, he helped me heal. Thank God for him!

About two years after that, my friend had an appointment at the hospital so I took her in. As I looked at the directory in the Medical Plaza, I saw Dr. E. had moved his practice there. As I saw his name I felt God speak to me and felt a great need to go tell him thank you. As I went to his office and asked to speak to him, the receptionist took my name and immediately came out and said, “Come back, he wants to see you.”

I waited about three minutes in his office and he came in with open arms asked how I was doing and wanted to sit and talk. I said, “I know you are busy; I don’t want to keep you, but I felt God told me to come tell you thank you!” He said, “I really needed to hear that today, so thank YOU!” We talked a little longer, gave each other a hug, and I left. I wondered why God had me do that? I thought, well, he said he needed to hear that, so I guess that’s it!

Five days later I was awakened by a phone call from my coworker. Dr. E. had died in a tragic accident. Now I know why God had me tell him thank you, and I’m so glad I listened to him!

#68 Breaking Chains Of Generational Dysfunction

June 6, 2020January 16, 2017 by pamamilliongodstoriescom

Photo by Ashely Brown, Shining Light Photography

When you’re little, you’re usually oblivious to all the things that have happened around you or within your family. You don’t understand why some family members don’t come around on holidays anymore or why family fallouts happen.

Growing up, I felt like I was the mediator for my entire family. I saw the brokenness that was passed down from generation to generation, along with the drug use, anxiety, psychological disorders, OCD, verbal abuse, depression, and mental illnesses that flooded my family tree. Suicide completion and attempts made its way into my family on multiple occasions. I loved my family so much and enjoyed holidays spent together. I hated to see so much selfish conflict separate a powerhouse genealogy such as mine, when I had faith in each of their potential.

After many years of watching hate and true dysfunction divide my family into bitterness, I decided I no longer wanted this awful family curse to have an effect on my life or have the possibility of being passed down to my kids. When you make a bold decision to follow Christ and be the chain-breaker, the devil keeps up and does everything in his might to distract you, knock you off track, and feed you with lies.

From seventh grade to the end of my junior year in high school, I struggled with spiritual warfare. The thing is, I didn’t know it was spiritual warfare. It was hard to fight a battle blinded by Satan’s schemes. It was hard to find joy in my trials and confidently take up my cross daily when I didn’t realize I was being attacked by the devil; I thought that all the lies flooding my mind were genetic and I was just a depressed member of the family like everyone else. I fought loneliness, self-worth, and had an identity crisis. It was true that you could be surrounded by people and still feel lonely.

I was bullied in seventh grade, so I felt like a burden to everyone around me. I soon gained interests in things that would only leave me empty and confused. I spent many months hiding things from people because I thought they would think I was a hypocrite and not a true follower of Christ. My life was a sinful cycle of doing certain things to find happiness and then seeking help in the wrong people (who didn’t have my best interests at heart), and then being paranoid that they would let my secrets out and expose my actions. It was exhausting keeping up this persona and realizing that what I thought was “freedom” was actually self-imprisonment that held me in chains and created a life of despair.

My depression got so bad my junior year that I would cry for no reason. I thought, “What is wrong with me? Why am I so crazy? Why can’t all this just stop?” My “hunky dory” personality became altered and I was very short-tempered and unintentional; I hated who I had become. My life changed radically when I hit rock bottom at a NeedToBreathe concert. I was with my friends and my sister, and everyone was having a good time, including myself—and then I had an anxiety attack. I cried in the middle of the concert for reasons I couldn’t explain. I felt dazed and was wondering why an awesome night was being ruined by my craziness. I wanted to go home; I did not want to be there. I wanted the unexplained pain to stop. Redemption abounded when my sister pulled over the car on the way home and prayed over me. She told the devil to flee from me and to stop attacking me so I could live for Christ. She yelled at Satan for all the years of personality and heart deterioration he did in my life.

It wasn’t but maybe a week later and I felt completely fine! I could breathe again. I felt like all my past worries and anxieties and living a counterfeit lifestyle were washed away. I felt restored after just that one prayer. The devil lost his battle with me when he was finally exposed. Even though that time was spent in oceans of manipulation, along with chasing vacant desires, I wouldn’t trade those hardships for anything.

The Lord has promised good to me and He will never steer me the wrong direction. He allowed me to share my testimony with a girl who was battling depression in my small group at church. I prayed over her like my sister did and exposed the devil of his awful attacks. My five-year battle reminds me of Psalm 23 when God left the herd of sheep to go find that single lost one. He didn’t acknowledge my brokenness and leave me there, but picked me up, called me His daughter, and restored my faith. He led me beside still waters and refreshed my soul because He knew I was worthy of redemption. Not only that, but He knew my story would be able to be used for His glory and to have my pain used as a megaphone to announce His faithfulness.

I am not ashamed of what I went through because that’s not who I am. I see my struggles as a place where I was lost, and where God came and found me. It’s not a story of what I’ve done, but about where I was and what HE did for me. It’s been about two years since I struggled with depression and internal mental conflict. I still have problems from time to time—like all humans—but I certainly am not in the darkest of places where I was before. I am now working on two applications to become an R.A. for the resident halls and to become a counselor for a camp in North Carolina so I can love on people and share my testimony with those searching for help. I want to share with them the One who rescued me from the situations I got myself in. His name is Jesus, and He alone can restore and fulfill a rebellious heart that was totally shattered. I truly believe that day by day I am breaking the chains of generational family depression and dysfunction and will use the power of the Holy Spirit to mend my family’s brokenness.