Rainbow's Testimony: Letting Go and Letting God - Part 1

(Transcript - Part 1)

[Rainbow] Hey Precious Family, I hope you guys are staying sweet and being awesome. Today I would like to share with you, my testimony. It has taken me close to five times to try to record this and each time I felt like I was a lot more afraid than usual. I would like to apologize in advance for any noise. I do pray that this testimony does very much encourage you.
I was born with a condition called Albinism, which means I had no pigmentation in my skin. This makes you very pale and unfortunately with the added bonus of health complications. Having this condition makes you stand out in a dark brown community. Growing up my father left my mom, baby sister and I when I was two years old. I had a longing desire for years in my heart to have a father in my life that in later years Papa God would come to fill. My earthly Dad came to check up on us irregularly for some years. Roughly when I was six or eight in particular, my mom granted him permission for us to stay with him and his ex-wife for sometimes one night or two, as well as to take us on little outings at times when it was convenient. I would be lying if I said being with him was depressing when I was a kid. It felt good to have a dad but the only problem that hurt my sister and I the most is that he married someone else who wasn’t our mother. So, we, my sister and I, rarely saw our dad, and when we did, it was always bitter-sweet because we both loved and resented him at the same time. So, I grew up with a father who was there and not there during my childhood.

When I was roughly eleven, he visited more often and decided that he wanted to be a part of my life. My ex-stepmom and I could never get along. I did not fully accept that my dad had moved on and there may not be a chance that he could ever marry my mom. My bitterness for her sparked when I was a child because I found myself thinking that she was going to be my new mother and I hated the idea. It only got worse when I became a teenager. I was beginning to understand the hidden insults and bad things said about her on both sides of the family when I would listen to the adults speak. Like a typical immature teen, I took their side and I resented her even more without asking questions. This resulted in a huge argument the very moment I thought she was acting like my mother. I wouldn’t tolerate it and was disrespectful about how I felt. Till this day I don’t believe she has ever forgiven me. I admit she is imperfect just like everyone else but even if she was not God’s will for my dad, it did not make her a bad person. The one thing I love about her the most is her cooking. It will always have a place in my heart.

Growing up I was bullied for who I was. The kids at school thought that if they would come near me, they would become an albino just like me. They said mean things to me which would really hurt, pushed me around and would spread lies about me. That was just the tip of the iceberg. I would then go home to a mentally ill mother who suffers from epilepsy which would flare up a lot. This would cause my mom to have occasional seizures.
My mom never got over the break-up with my dad. He was the first man she had ever loved as far as I knew and had been with for years. This added to the physical burden she was carrying as well as the pressure with bringing up two daughters without a father. My mom would hit and holler at me, reminding me of the bullying I was receiving at school as the hitting and hollering seemed to be the same to me. Not that the children at school hollered at or hit me although there are instances where that did happen. Some of my teachers had a tendency to be harsh and firm at times which reminded me of my mother’s hollering. There were some of my teachers who used hitting with rulers and other objects as a form of punishment that reminded me of my mother’s methods of punishment, as well. Being punished by her methods often would leave bad bruises on my skin. I was also beaten for things my sister had done, though that was few and far between, and it felt sometimes that frustration was being taken out on me by my mom. Mom’s physical and emotional struggles made her shy and no one took her seriously at school or at home, so I kept it to myself what was happening at school.
The schoolwork was overwhelming to me. It seems I could not quite understand what the teachers were trying to teach us. My teacher would physically hit me at times when I got my math sums wrong, or when I did a minor infraction. At the time it was okay in my country to physically hit a child if they displayed any bad behavior. A law was eventually passed against that treatment, though some teachers still did it, as I learned was the case in middle school.

This all affected me negatively which started to affect my emotional health at an incredibly young age. I would often make up fantasy stories in my head to cope with all that I was going through or often did extreme things for attention so that I could receive even if it was the littlest bit of sympathy or affection. This was bad because I ended up most of the time in the hospital and wasting everyone's time on a story that was in my head. I had a heavy stronghold of lying on me that I needed to be delivered from when I got saved.
Just before I entered high school my father came back into my life, deciding that he wanted to be a father to me. At the time I did not want him back into our lives. I had grown up used to not having him around all the time and having to deal with my problems on my own. I could never accept that he could come back, and everything would be well. To me back then it didn’t work like that. I thought it very unfair. When I entered high school at eleven years old, he bought all my school supplies. He even took me to school on the first day. I could tell he was trying his best, so little by little I started to give him a chance. Or so it seemed. Deep down in my heart I knew I would never give him a full chance; a half a chance is what I felt I had given him because I was heartbroken for many things which slowly, but surely, turned me into an awful rebellious teen.

When I settled into high school, I found myself friends that were a part of the wrong crowd. The flaws and hurts from my childhood that I had not addressed reared their ugly heads in many ways. I longed to be accepted, to belong, and these longings in my hurt heart gave a lot of weight to the heavy peer-pressure that my “friends” were giving to me. Following their lead, I became worse than I had started, and my grades dropped because of it. I knew the right way, I felt it in my heart, but I went the wrong way just to feel like I belonged or was accepted.
Not one in my family knew anything until I started harming myself with sharp objects. I even got to the point of contemplating and even attempted to commit suicide. The core was, I did not feel loved. I felt worthless, stupid, and just not worth anyone’s time. I grew up in church, I was baptized, went every Sunday…but my life was dead. Everyone around me constantly kept throwing word curses at me. I was constantly discouraged and always felt like I would never measure up. Eventually I got myself into a lot of trouble with “friends” and I became known as a “troubled teen”.
I was still trying to give my dad a chance at the time when he found out what was happening at school. He did not try to reason with me or talk things out, he got furious and without warning transferred me over to another school. I don’t fault my dad for transferring me or even getting angry that day. I believe any parent would be angry if they found out they had a child who wanted to kill herself. I needed very much to be understood, to be dealt with gently. Looking back now, I see it was unfair for me to want my dad to understand me if I didn’t understand myself. Slowly but surely, I locked my family out of my heart because I couldn’t take the verbal and psychological abuse anymore. I wanted to be someone. I knew I could do something better with my life, but I was discouraged, I didn’t think that life was worth living. After that incident I slowly but surely started to see who my dad truly was in the inside.

The second school was a private Christian school far away from my old school and anyone I had ever known. Being in a Christian school made me happy because I was learning so much about Jesus, but this did not help to deal with my core issues. My grades started off good but then I got to the point of discouragement where I stopped trying, and laziness also was a part of that equation. Moving from one school to another did not make my situation any different because I was the problem, not the school I was put into. I felt like I did not belong. I hated school because no one liked me which they showed openly. Call it a petty reason if you want but the simple things I needed emotionally, I lacked them greatly. I did not understand my schoolwork most of the time and was not able to afford good extra support and so, I simply stopped trying. I had no motivation to push myself. The bullying did not stop although it had supressed. I didn’t follow the wrong crowd this time, I took it as a chance to do better because I knew I had messed up the first time. I tried to be myself but as usual I did not fit in. I never did.

(Transcript - Part 2)

I was thirteen years old when I met and fell in love with someone older than I. He was the reason I turned back to God. I dated him but could never tell my parents the truth because I knew they wouldn’t agree with it. There is a rhema card that I have that says, “Everything in the dark will come to light” and you guessed it, that is exactly what happened. My father eventually found out about my secret relationship and a series of unfortunate events happened that have left me traumatic till present date. This resulted in my dad removing me from school for almost a whole year to ensure I would never see him again. My dad hated the person I chose to marry, he didn’t match up with the lifestyle that my dad had in mind for me. He wasn’t rich, he didn’t have status, but he had a good heart and was determined to work hard to take care of me and to wait until I was older to marry. My mother followed everything everyone told her to do so she hated him too. My whole family greatly despised him without giving him a chance. As a parent putting myself in their shoes, I see that I was very young and to them I was not capable of making good decisions, so they felt the need to make them for me, so to speak. If they only knew that though I was young I was forced to mature very quickly by virtue of living in an unstable environment. Maybe not “mature” like the world thinks but mature enough to know what I wanted in my life—and it was not wealth or status. I wanted more out of life than just money.

My parents had a serious issue with me wanting to settle down after I finished school and have a family in which I would do what Jesus called me to do. In fact I was shut down many times and told what they wanted me to do so I stopped believing in myself. I felt like I became their robot though I had the heart of a rebel. That year of no school was spent inside. It felt like I lived in a jail because my mother would not let me do much. I have lived indoors my whole life, coming out only when it was necessary to do so. She became possessive and jealous over me and being with anyone else seemed to make her angry. Her behavior was the result of being tormented by paranoia. Which I noticed I had adapted too when I got married. Although the year was unproductive it was the year that I decided I would take God seriously and get saved no matter what. (Which I write about in Series two).

As I got worse so did my parents’ treatment of me. Slowly, but surely, I started to feel like my dad did not want to be a part of my life. He wanted to control it completely. I felt like I was supposed to be his robot, he made the commands; I follow without question. My mom’s hollering and punishment became more intense, and my father followed, with more abuse. Things just kept getting worse and I suffered greatly because of it. Even my little sister had her fair share of abuse towards me following my parents’ example. I very much do acknowledge that even they have had their fair share of hardships and life was not easy for them. It’s not easy to deal with teenagers. Knowing this and how bad my sins were, it led me to forgiveness and not resentment.

I knew nothing about verbal and emotional abuse until someone told me about it after being witness of what I was going through. After that conversation I educated myself and I realized that was exactly what I was going through. The knowledge helped, yet it did not change my situation. I do strongly advise every teen or parent to educate themselves on this matter so they can make better choices or seek help whether godly or otherwise.

At the age of eight I got baptized, but it was when I was fourteen, I truly became saved at a church service with my mom. From that point on I went from terrible teen to someone on fire for God. God still needed to make me new. I still needed to change. One night I realized something especially important. I realized that I had a lot of flaws and things that I needed to deal with. For once I took a look at myself in the mirror and not at others. I needed to change myself first before I could ask God to change my family of what they were doing to me. I had to get rid of selfishness, pride, judgment, laziness, and everything else that came with the package of my burdened life and how flawed I actually was. I realized that if I wanted God my whole mindset had to change!
I realized that I thought so negatively all the time. l remembered all the good times I could have been thankful to him for, considering the fact that I did indeed have good times with my family. No matter how little it was that my parents did for me, I should have been grateful. I was too busy unbelieving and doubting God that I did not realize all I had to do was let go and let God. I needed to give all my problems and situations to Him and let Him deal with it His way.

If I was going to stick this out living under my parents’ roof until I became eighteen, then I was going to have to do my best to make myself happy with His help. I had to learn to love my enemies and do good to those who hurt me. (Matthew 5:44). This was tough but I knew I just had to PUSH (Pray Until Something Happens), which I did.

Eventually I was placed in school again but because I was out of school for so long, I fell behind by a landslide and was expected to pick back up where I left off from my parents. I tried hard however I could, to pick back up and please my parents, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to excel or do something extravagant to earn their approval which did not happen. Because I was taking my walk with God seriously, He was with me and this time he chose for himself the school I was put into. But I couldn’t stay there for long. He knew that he would ask me eventually to forsake everything and follow Him. The school was amazing and because of the Holy Spirit I was able to find a few friends—good ones—that I may never get to see them again. Everyone I interacted with loved the Holy Spirit in me and then there are some who hated me. I felt fulfilled because of His Spirit, so I cared not for those that disliked me. The abuse at home was still bad but I played the role of the girl who had a good average life to those at school to hide the pain I felt. Some figured it out, others didn’t. But I tried my best to be a good ambassador for Jesus while there... until it was my time to leave.

The answer did not come right away but I kept trying and pressing in. This experience of thought at that given moment really silenced me. In my moment of revelation everything made sense to me, I knew what I had to do for God; I needed to show my family love the best way I can. He stopped my own thoughts to come through with His. It was not right what my family was doing to me, but every time I complained about it, I was just making it worse for myself. The complaining would create the negative thoughts and then bitterness, resentment and anger would enter my heart Then my peace would leave me. There was nothing I could do to change them and how they were treating me, but I could change myself and how I responded to all of this in thought, word, and deed.

When you start working on yourself with Jesus, I guarantee you God picks up your situation and He sorts it out. You lead others by your example and eventually they will wake up and want to change too. If they don’t want to change, do not let your heart be troubled as Jesus says in John 14: 1. Pray to God that He will help those around you and work in them! I knew that God was watching them and every action of theirs. Everyone would be accountable for their own sins. I was only responsible for mine.
It was hard to trust and not doubt and the journey was long. It was difficult and I was still battling many hardships and had so many doubts. I decided however to forgive my family. I realised that God loved me and the more knowledge I gained of what was happening I felt sorrier for them instead of being angry. I tried my best to wait and be patient for Him to do something to save me out of these circumstances.

Then one day He made provision for me. He told me that he would provide for me, but for that to happen now I must leave my family home.

Right there, fear and shock came over me when I heard those words especially since I was not legally at the right age to leave my home. The only thing He asked of me was to trust and He will provide for me. It took a while for me to accept that, but I obeyed and left my mother’s home. I left everything behind, friends, family, everything I had ever known, to follow and live a life of God. And God was faithful to His word and kept me safe and provided for. Eventually I started to seek God so that I could become more and more serious with the Lord. I wanted to give Him my all. I wanted to try harder than I have done before. Leaving my house at sixteen, and then coming into a place that I had not known was very hard.

[The end of Part 1]

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