Tell the Girl

They didn't call me by my name, rather I was the girl. That was me the stupid girl. The girl that hid, the girl that tried desperately to be more, to be faster, quieter, better. Adopted as a baby, the Girl was raised in the hills of Northern Pennsylvania. Born the unwanted child of a drug addict, she remained an unwanted child. The enclosed pages contain the horrors and painful memories of the girl. I have prayed for peace and acceptance. My faith carried me through the pain I suffered. It is not perfect, it wavers. From time to time, I lose sight of it. I question and I doubt, because I am a finite being who can't hope to understand the infinity of God. My belief is not based on a hope of a beautiful afterlife, nor is it based on a hope for reward. No, my faith is based on the sheer steadfastness of God. I have fallen from grace many times. I have hated and I have contemplated death. I have been touched by evil and bear the mark of shame. Yet, I am comforted by Gods presence when the night terrors wake me in the dark. I find peace in my prayers, and strength in my faith. The pages that follow are not the happy memories of a child raised in love. Rather, it is a grim retelling. I did not attempt to lesson my memories for your sake, as doing so would have been an injustice to my journey. Please do not be deceived by the dark story of abuse, fear, shame and confusion; because it is only the setting in which my faith and love of God was created. If you have jumped to a random page in the text and found yourself on a garage floor being molested by your father and decided this text is not for you, then God Speed. If you are joining me on my journey, then thank you and welcome to my life. But the Lord stood by me and strengthened me, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed, and all the Gentiles might hear it. So, I was rescued from the lion's mouth.