Reading time 20 min
My Name is Christy; I am a child of God and a faithful believer and follower of Jesus Christ. He is my Savior! My Redeemer! My Comforter! He's my Rock!
First, I want to thank God for my life as it is now. If not for the lamps He laid at my feet and the courage to follow them to the opened doors, I would not be here sharing my journey to the cross.
God's been growing in me..living in me, because somewhere, someone planted a seed. It was not a lightswitch Saving moment.. because of all the backsliding.. except when I made the conscious decision to follow Him. That happened July 27, 2022... a basement floor mental breakdown.
Later that evening, Steve, my husband, said what do you want for your birthday...I replied, take me to church, and I have been a faithful follower ever since.
That was my basement meltdown; it came from a broken home straight out of life. I can smile now because the power to calm the raging storm inside me came from the one who can also tell the storm to be still, and it obeys...(Luke 8 vs 23 ,24 & 25 NASB 1995) (Psalms 46 vs. 10 NIV).
My mom and biological dad divorced before I was born, but that's NOT the shattered home I came from. The home my brother and I grew up in did not become broken; it was ruined from the start.
I was adopted by our stepdad somewhere between the ages of two and four. They told my biological dad that my brother and I wanted the same last name as my stepdad. So from there, the wise adults worked it out.
My biological dad surrendered parental rights to my stepdad. I remember the day I was adopted, like it was yesterday. I remember looking at a brick building with a rainbow painted on it as I was instructed to tell the man inside yes, and not anything else.
I sat in a small office with brown paneling. Then a man came in and sat on the desk, looking at me, and said do you want this man to be your dad? Yes sir.
We returned to the car, and my stepdad looked to the back seat and said aggressively, "Your real Dad didn't want your mother or you.. but now I own you."
I didn't understand what he meant and didn't care what was happening with the adults. I never knew this other dad they spoke of.
I remember walking out to the garden where he was that evening, tugging on his shirt; I looked up and said, I'll call you daddy, and you can call me daughter. Deal? We spat in our hands and shook on it; he said deal. Now I had a daddy.
My stepdad was a talented architect. He was working for the owner of bass pro shops. He had gone to a Christian college and received a master's in psychology. He was a master in every part of his life! he was even a deacon in a church before meeting Momma and could quote anything in the Bible, I was told.
I don't remember him even saying God's name unless it was linked with profanity. I'm sure he did, but I can't remember. He used his master's In psychology to Manipulate, confuse, and control others.
He could put a cup down in front of you, and in ten minutes, have you convinced you were the one who placed it there; or that it was always there from the start? Imagine what this ability can do in the wrong hands, and it was definitely in the wrong hands.
My Mama did a little of everything. Nurses aid work, hospice care, childcare, exotic dancing, pornography, and prostitution. She always explained, "I didn't do anything I Wasn't already curious about. Your stepdad didn't force me to do anything."
But did he? Remember that psychology degree I was talking about? They often left their whisky and wine glasses around. I had gotten up early one morning as the house slept; I was maybe four at the time and thirsty, So I drank up all the remaining stuff in the glasses.
They woke up to find me intoxicated. I was acting like a dog biting someone's pant legs and barking. They thought this was a hoot, so he gave me another drink to keep it up.
I don't remember the rest of that story. They both did a lot of drugs and a giant bottle of whiskey nightly. My brother and I never really knew what monsters we would face at the end of the day.
Our stepdad's idea of discipline was Horse whips, switches, the back of the fist, Or our noses touching the wall at all times as we jump up and down on our Tiptoes chanting...
"My name is Christy Marie Williamson, I am dumb as a Box of rocks and worthless as teets on a bore hog, I will not again do__ " Whatever the reason for the discipline.
I had wet the bed till I Was thirteen. I was made to sleep in a trash bag and wear the dirty underwear over my head while saying the required chant. I was then made to attend school in my wet underwear.
Most times, our Momma would be unrecognizable. She Would retaliate with more violence. They were both very broken. My brother took many of those whoopings for me.
If my brother were afraid of him, he would NOT give our stepfather the satisfaction of tears. He was never allowed to live the life of a child; we both were denied such a luxury.
My brother quickly filled the role of a dad, a big brother, and a protector of women. He had to fill those roles; our parents were far too lost in their own problems to see the turmoil they left us in.
I remember my grandparents and Uncle babysitting us often. At age four, my grandfather started molesting me, and this was multiple times PER visit. When I pushed him off me at the age of 13, he never touched me again.
I had an uncle that felt he had this right as well. When met with resistance, he burned my thumbs on the stove or with a lighter.. then followed it by having me kneeling on rice on a hard surface for what seemed like hours.
The school was just as awful. I was beaten up, my heels were stepped on, and they called me a dog, barking at me and saying I smelled like a toilet, and molested me on the school bus. The school was another hell for me.
When I came home crying to Momma, she responded, "Get a backbone and stand up for yourself, or you deserve what you get. If they start it, finish it, I'll stand behind you if you get in trouble."
So I began finishing fights. My step Dad would reward me with new shoes or allow me to ride My brother Rocky's horse. Or give my chores to Rocky to do that day. (I was used to tormenting my brother, in addition to my baby sister, and the torment came naturally).
The neighbors took me to Bible school, where I was also teased and learned the town's latest gossip was that my parents were devil worshipers.. they were lost but didn't worship anyone but themselves.
I ignored the church bullies because I was on a mission; I was there to be saved but had no clue what that meant. I thought it meant that he was going to fix my parents and save me from them.
I was sorely disappointed to learn that my brother and I had not been saved (our parents were still the same as when we left for church).
I learned of my real dad's existence, and Mom told me he had signed over rights without a fight because he wanted a Life with my older brothers and his ex-wife. "He divorced me because you were a girl" is one of many lies about our dad.
I also remember the taboo Grandpa made up about a monster to keep us kids out of the Garage; My stepdad used it as a torment.
I had woken up before our parents, as I was known to do even as a toddler. The bird Cage was near the sliding glass door. I walked over to the glass doors and saw all the birds with their families.
I looked to my right at the canary in a cage and set it free. When the adults woke to find the bird gone, I was put over my stepdad's leg for a spanking.
Then was told to go to the bathroom (where the toilet would flush randomly). I was not happy with the thoughts of that taboo, and the battle of wills began. I was not going in there. (it was the first battle I won).
Grabbing the edge of the chairs, the tv, and then the door screaming bloody murder. Finally, Mama said, all right, that's enough. You made your point.
After my stepdad went to work, She took my little hand in hers and led me gently to the bathroom and explained that the potty was broken, it was not a monster, and that the Taboo was not real. But it was, and it came in many forms throughout life.
The hurts from my past trickled into my future through behavior and lifestyle. When I hit fifteen, I became disrespectful and challenging, getting drunk, starting fights for fun, and smoking cigarettes (which really began around 10 when I stole from mom's carton).
I told my mom I had found my dad and wanted to live with him. She gave me until she got home to be out, and she never wanted to see me again, so I stayed with a friend of my brothers till my real dad picked me up.
But the rebellion didn't stop. When I moved in with my real dad, I started drinking and had sex with much older men, had a miscarriage, had a few fights at school, and had very intense arguments with my stepmom.
Then I told Daddy, take me home to Missouri, or im walking there! Once filled with joy that his family was complete, but I had made it a broken home. I can't imagine his hurt.
He did as I asked and put me on a plane back to Momma and my stepdad. Once I returned, so did my rebellion.
Still having sex with much older men, drinking, smoking cigarettes, as well as recreational marijuana on occasion.
When Mama found out I had been sneaking out to get drunk with a 24-year-old. she said, marry him or go to jail. You'll get pregnant, and I'll be stuck with you and a baby.
I didn't love him or like him. He just bought my booze and drove me around, but I was not about to let her put this man in jail for something I was willing to do.
My First Marriage
My mother signed a paper making it legal, and we were married a month after I turned seventeen, but I stayed in school till I got pregnant. My husband told me to quit school because he needed that extra income.
Once I found out I was pregnant, my drinking and drug use stopped, but He became worse. He was on something I swore I would never touch, Meth. The more he used it, the meaner and more unfaithful he became.
I met my second husband through a friend, and he seemed ok. A Golden Glove Boxer who I figured could protect me and my two babies from husband #1, so, months later, we married. I thought I had left sexual and mental abuse in the past.
But the taboo followed, and I now had two failed marriages, three babies, and several failed relationships. I began to spiral back into drinking and smoking weed on occasion.
Now on a third contract marriage to a long-time friend, we decided to get married to keep my children safe from husband number two. We were drinkers and smoked cigarettes, and after a year of marriage, we were introduced by some friends to a new high of "Ecstasy."
Now divorced for the third time, he never did anything to me or my kids, but he was a sex addict. He would act inappropriately to women as they slept at our home. He admitted to this and behaved the same to my mom.
Thinking I could curb these urges, I opened our bedroom for others, but once was enough for me.
A few weeks later, I woke up with him doing things without my consent, and I knew it was time to get help. The doc said it was not me and that trying to curb his urges would only fuel the desires.
We went home to talk. I said if you promise not to hurt the kids and anyone else. We can work together and get you help.. he was honest and said, I can't promise that, so we moved out the next day.
Another man in my life
A few months later, I met a well-dressed business owner, and this part of my life messed me up the worst; this man was a wolf in sheep's clothing. My children disliked him from the First Hello, but I chose to ignore their intuition; after all, they were only children.
Thankfully I did not marry this man. In fact, I spent the next thirteen years hiding and running from him. He introduced Meth into my life.. marijuana was gone. But alcohol and medication were very active in my life, and for the next couple of months, I did Meth. We were toxic toward one another.
I was eventually able to walk away from him and the drugs; he was not. I often drank alcohol and was on medications, sometimes Meth, for confidence; (at least, that's what I told myself). I was liked by many, or so I thought, but these friends left me when I walked away from the drugs.
I was so blessed that the recreational drugs didn't grab hold, but unfortunately, the medications did. I believe with all my heart that God sent my fourth husband, Steve, to me on "Plenty of Fish.com." God was up there, probably thinking, you are not making very good choices.
We've been together for fifteen years, but trials and tribulations were rampant, especially without God. I was on more medication than should be legally allowed.
I believe I overdosed a couple of times just following the medication orders.
It got pretty bad. Once at a creek mission, my real dad's church was doing. Dad was the pastor, and he found me on the ground with all my medications. He thought I did this on purpose to get high. I argued and gave a reason, not THE reason but a reason.
I did take one more hydrocodone than required that day just to have false confidence to serve strangers. Thinking I needed to fix what I had done before I lost my dad, I asked for a baptism that weekend in front of all. It was a bath for me because it was only for show.
I'm not sure I ever came clean with my dad about the extra pill or the baptism, but he knew. Steve and I still went to the bar each week for "fun." That's why I called my baptism just a bath. I had no intention of giving up the neon lights. I had a deep pitted urge to follow God, but my selfish human side had other plans.
My life grew darker, my fears even more consuming, and when it seemed life couldn't get any lower... I would dream of a woman in blue with dark wavy curls. She never had a face, though. In my dream, she put her hand on me and said be still, and a calming peace came over me.
I always thought she was just a dream, but a woman I shared a room with at the family violence shelter (between husband one and husband two) chose to share with me the following morning, "An angel wearing blue sat by your bed last night."
So I changed roommates. I had never heard about Earthy angels .. didn't much care for this stranger seeing me in my dreams and considered it very intrusive.
Years later, I shared my dreams with someone. They said there is a verse in the Bible about angels on earth; I learned later they are, in fact, real.
This person went on to share with me the first and second coming of Jesus! Oh yeah, count me in on that trip. I'm still jumping in mud puddles. Thinking I had time...
I thought I had found a loophole and a free pass to continue my life as it was Because I was still too dirty to be washed in the blood...
Then years later, I find out NO ONE WANTS TO WAIT FOR THE SECOND COMING To serve GOD!
My fears of people, places, and things in my life were the taboo, the monster that would follow me for many years, taking the form of its choosing. Then I hit my forties and thought, am I having fun yet?
Now, instead of waiting for the second coming of Jesus Christ that I had heard about but chose not to follow, I'm now choosing to follow and having far more fun
In my teens, twenties, and thirties, I had the mindset that I'll catch the second coming of Jesus Christ; l want to have fun while I'm young! I'd been around and in and out of the church long enough to believe in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
Foolishly I chose not to follow Him. I decided not to know Him at all! I thought ignorance to be bliss. "What I don't know can't hurt me." I was a fool! Then I hit my 40s and thought, Am I having fun yet?
After speaking to others, I learned I was not alone in this thinking. Many of us have that thought process; sadly, it's more common than one may think.
I also learned that what I don't know will usually hurt; there is no such thing as "Ignorance is Bliss," only ignorance! And I was not having fun!
For 45 years, I was told WHO and WHAT I was, WHAT I am, who I am, and WHO I would become! I was told what I was or was not capable of! It started with parents' friendships and families and relationships. If not by their words, it came in the form of their Actions.
So I ended with my own ideas of WHO and WHAT I was. Then I found myself living up to those expectations, and the enemy's lies.
But the TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE!
God's unwavering truth is who you are! You are not your behaviors! You are not your feelings. Life; what is happening around you and to you does not define who you are. Nor does it change the value of who you are to God!!
Please Stop letting the enemy tell you who you are, what you should do, or your capabilities! We will flounder and drown without God and his Word and knowing His Truths. The so-called truth about who you are that the enemy has told you is a lie!!
YOU are a child of God! Stand up, brothers & sisters! And stand solely on the truth God says about you! The beautiful truth is that you were beautifully made by God! You are loved abundantly by God!
Through God, you have been made A Warrior; when you feel weak, he says to call on Him to be your strength.
You are exactly who God has always said you were, even as you are experiencing your feelings and life is happening around you, and to you, God is unwavering! His word is the only truth you will EVER need!
The enemy uses the weaknesses of our flesh to steal, Kill, and destroy! He uses our hurts & hang-ups to pull us away from God!
We can rise up as mighty warriors of God and allow God to use his strength in us to defeat satans abilities to steal, kill and destroy
Words given by the holy spirit...
Wherever we have been, where we are going, what we have done, and what we are doing, someone, somewhere, has been there and is going where we are going, has done what we once did, or doing what we are doing?
People watching who you were and what you did in your past may be watching to see what God is doing in your life now. They know you have been where they are now and want to go where you're going!
They know what you have done and that God works in their life in the same way. They see that you have been made new with forgiveness! "Everyone's story is different but relatable to someone, somewhere."
Many are on a journey in their life, feeling alone in what they don't realize is a very crowded room. Their battle may be different than yours. They may bear other battle scars, but we are all in the same war!
How they entered the conflict or fought the battle does not matter. A battle in any form is traumatic.
Seeing that we are survivors of our battles through Jesus Christ makes it hopeful for those calling out to him on their own battlegrounds. They may see and realize that you have been through some of the same things and that you were SAVED by climbing out of a hole similar to theirs.
Their hole may be even dirtier, larger, muddier, and deeper than the ones we crawled from. Please remember that they are stuck, just as you once were!
If we allow it, dirt will continually fall on us, ensuring we stay in the hole we were so eager to jump into. The messier, the better jumping from puddle to puddle, not knowing or caring that there may be muddier, deeper holes ahead of you!
If you're blessed, someone may warn you by shouting out, "Watch out! I got stuck in that hole! It's deep! You can't get out on your own!" It's like being buried alive.
Such a risk I took! I just wanted to play in a bit of dirt and jump in a puddle or two before being called home by the porch light and not considering that I would not be allowed inside the house ☝️once I got there!
Please don't allow yourself to "Only" be the person who shouts, "Watch out!" Instead, let God use you to toss them a rope and let them know that God is holding the other end! But they MUST want to climb out to meet God themselves.
People from all walks of life who find themselves in holes deeper than the ones you were in may hear how God helped you and is working in your life and that He got the glory from saving you.
Without God and His followers, * the puddles we choose to play in for fun are the graves we will die in. Still, they must want out. You shouted, "Watch out," tossed them a rope, and told them that Goď's holding onto the other end, but only they can do the climb.
God gave each of us free will to climb out of our graves into His embrace. You may see someone attempting to leave their muddy graves, and even though they have their rope, they are still struggling.
Our service does not stop here! Instead, encourage, motivate, and shout out God's glory, mercy, and love! Tell them of His great works in your own life! And when they have made the climb from that hole! Praise the Lord!!
Satan is working overtime. He wants that soul back! So he begins planting seeds of his own! Seeds of doubt, humiliation, self-disgust, or our lack of value to God and those we love. They are now embarrassed and feel too dirty to be washed in the blood of Jesus.
Please, Before the enemy has the chance to plant any more seeds, tell them how you were washed and polished in the blood of Jesus! Tell them if you've ever felt too dirty to be seen by people, let alone the mercy & grace God was offering.
By Sending His only son to be brutally tortured, they whipped and tore His flesh, exposing bone, then left Him on a rugged cross to die so I could be free of my sins. The sins I did! That's mercy; that's grace and love no one deserves...that's Jesus!!
When you see your fellow brethren weak and beaten down from life, possibly about to step into a puddle of unknown depths, please don't put on blinders and leave and let them sort it out.
See something, say something! Steady their gate. Warn them of what's ahead. Not to fear, but be aware and hold tight to the hand of God.
Be ready to plant a seed, toss them a rope, and share the story of your climb to Jesus and how He saved you! Never forget; we all have stepped in, even downright jumped in puddles of all depths and sizes.
We know from experience there's no getting out without the love and mercy of Jesus Christ & willingness to accept the rope that's been tossed to us and the will to climb it to God's embrace.
It can start by us telling someone about how we were saved and the hole we climbed out of by using the rope held by the hand of God. We can not walk there and hold their hand to Heaven. But we can be their brothers and sisters, their friend and mentor. Never to be abandoned!
There are so many puddles and holes with people trapped in them! Plant the seed, Encourage and motivate their climb out, and Let them know that no one is too dirty to be washed clean by the Blood of Jesus Christ!♡
Don't stop; continue to be there. Then, perhaps one day, when they see someone playing in puddles and holes they can't climb out of, they will tell them their story
☆Momma and Daddy gave their hearts to God before being called home by the porch light! I'm down to only five medications and a nicotine vape. I am growing daily in Christ!
I want to thank my husband, Steve, and all three children for all their love and support; they continue to bless me. Thank you to one of my best friends Pastor Rocky Tash who I've been blessed to have as a big brother.
Thanks to my parents and brother Jason. God has used you all to bring me closer to Him.
Christy: United States