Breaking Point

This is the darkest part of my testimony. Five of the loneliest years of my life drove me to the edge.
Not sure about you, but I've been hurt before. I'm guessing you probably have too- on many occasions. Have you thought about what drives some of your decisions and choices these days? I bet if you really considered it- you'd see that it might be defined by something from your past. A hurt that made you change your approach to certain areas of life.

We are who we are mostly as a result of our choices, but one cannot ignore that fact that our surroundings (including people) have a large affect on us.

I was the little girl that was highly ignored. It wasn't really on purpose, but people seemed to accidentally forget that I existed. Especially my peers. I cannot really name a single girl in those 5 years that was a "friend". Now there some girls that I keep up with from those places- but our friendships formed later. There were also some singular acts of kindness but they were few and far between.

When I was 11, I had only one boy my age that would play with me- but if he thought anyone else we might both know was driving by, he'd hide in the bushes. At first I thought it was funny- but after a few months, I began to be hurt. I was happy when we moved the following year.

When I was 12, we reached Hawaii. Everyone thinks that it is beautiful, but as a little girl? I knew differently. Sure, the ocean and plants were lovely and the weather was perfect, but I had no friends. Acquaintances, yes. The neighborhood kids would play "night games" on Friday- usually just hide-and-seek. I can't tell you how many times they forgot I was playing and would start a new game. Frustrated, I'd sit there and watch two rounds of the game before heading inside. It was a lonely existence.

Once I tried to make my "forgetable-ness" work for me. We were playing capture the flag. When I approached the enemy's flag they suggested that I guard it while they took care of some kids from my own team who were trying to cross the line. They had already forgotten I was the "enemy." I agreed to guard it, and once they were around the corner, nonchalantly picked up the flag and carried it to my side. Game over. Only everyone was upset with me- even "my team." Every single one of them called me a cheater. Life was tough.

There was the time two of the counselors on a mission trip took me aside and began scolding me about being "bossy" to someone I hadn't even looked at. All because that someone had an irrational fear that I was there to steal her best friend- another girl that I rarely spoke to. I was 14. It scarred me. At first I was caught off guard and confused, so I asked who had accused me and what I had done. They wouldn't say who. One of those counselors acted as big sister to the girl who considered me a rival- her lie had been believed and I had not been asked if I was actually guilty of the act. I cried.

That same night, I found smashed cookies in my sleeping bag. I was a 10-hour drive from home and  surrounded by immature teens who called me "Erkel" because I had accidentally packed my sister's pajama pants instead of mine and they were above my ankles. (You know those matching flannel sets- my Mom liked to buy us the same pair- to this day I hate flannel pajamas.) I spent the rest of the week focused on the kids I was teaching in VBS and the nights trying not to cry. The girls were in a clique that did not include me- it was so painfully lonely. It's a miracle I ever went on another mission trip.

Two years later, at 16, with many of the same group, we went to a new location. (I had been unsuccessful in suggesting a different church- the rest of my family was content with that one.) The youth pastor had no control over the teens on the second trip. (He later confessed that he hadn't had a quiet time in 2 years and resigned.) We were in St. Louis, MO and I couldn't wait to leave. On the ride home, I was pushed out of the first van and then one of the girls in that van acted upset that I would "get to" ride in van number two. How else was I supposed to get home?

The final straw was waking that next morning at home to be told my Dad had a tumor and my parents were headed to the hospital for more tests. Did any of those kids from the church call me when they heard? No. Did they call my little sister? Yes. That was it.

Those 5 years of my life were unbearably miserable. No earthly peer seemed concerned about me. I swore that I would become a hermit when I grew up. I thank God that I didn't commit suicide. I wanted to. I was at the edge of the world with only a dog's shoulder to cry on. I had had the impression that as the oldest I was supposed to be strong for my family. They assumed I cried for my Dad- which was partly true. I couldn't explain to them why I was hurt. If we had lost my Dad I would've shattered. God was the only One I could turn to.

(To be fair to my parents- they didn't know everything that happened to me and were busy with moves, my other sisters, and then the tumor. I still consider them the best parents in the world!)


My first instinct when I see anyone like me is to turn away. I don't want to see their pain. Then I remember who I was. How I was treated. I have to turn back around. No one deserves to be invisible. Forgotten. Ignored. How many times have I been guilty of doing the same thing to others? I may never know. I don't want to know. How awful.

God changed me. I spent a lot of time praying that God would give me the ability to love people as He did. I wanted to see people as He does. Not as a mass of human beings who make mistakes, hurt each other, and are oft-times undeserving of His grace; but as individual creations- spectacularly designed, highly broken and lost, and unfathomably loved. By Love Himself. The Creator of Love.

And I still have to pray for that love- I will never be perfect. I may have forgiven the people who've scarred me- forgetting is much harder. God has taught me that I am precious to Him and here to bring glory to Him. Against human nature, I've had to learn to accept His gift of grace. Any works I may do to try to be worthy of receiving God's grace are not even worth the blink of an eye. I can't earn my way to Heaven. That which is born of flesh- remains flesh; but that which is born of Spirit? Is of the spirit- no fleshly works will buy my soul passage into God's eternal Kingdom (John 3:6). Jesus paid my price. (John 3:16) Yours too. Isn't that a relief? You don't have to worry about being "good enough". And if you're lonely? You don't have to be.

My prayer is that this would not seem like a complaint or simply the sharing of some painful memories- this is part of my testimony. The part where I had reached the end of my rope. You will never know how close I came to killing myself. Or maybe you do? I thank God you haven't and that you're alive and reading this. I pray that you will open your bruised and broken heart to Him- the Author and Pefecter of our faith. (Hebrews 12:2) Let God heal you and set you on the path you were designed for. Beloved, how precious you are in His sight! (Isaiah 43:4) What an incredible treasure God made when He formed you in your mother's womb. (Psalm 139:13) He knew who would hurt you and who would help you along this journey. He knew the mistakes you'd make and the problems you'd face before you existed. And most exciting of all? Make no mistake! God's got a plan for you. He says so. I will leave you with some of my favorite Bible verses. The ones I read when I was at my breaking point:

"'For I know the plans that I have for you,'" declares the LORD, "plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart." -Jeremiah 29:11-13

"'Call to Me and I will answer you, and I will tell you great and mighty things, which you do not know.'" -Jeremiah 33:3

"Therefore the LORD longs to be gracious to you, and therefore He waits on high to have compassion on you. For the LORD is a God of justice; how blessed are all those who long for Him." -Isaiah 30:18