Monday, November 9, 2015

November 9, 2012

This blog post will be really different than the ones I usually do. There will be no cute pictures, no links to shop, and no stories about what I did this weekend. I'm going to keep this short, only because I went back and forth about sharing with you what I'm about to share.

November 9th, 2012 I was robbed at gunpoint by 5 boys. It was three years ago today. I couldn't forget it if I tried. A family member asked me to get in the car with them to go to the store. The store ended up being the darkest alley, in the worst neighborhood to be in after dark. 5 boys with hoodies got in the car, 3 in the back 1 on each side of the driver's door, and passenger's door, and took everything I had. I was pushed, I was shoved, I tried to run but was forced to stay in the car. I screamed only to have someone put their hands over my mouth. I knew nothing good was about to happen, and I knew in that moment, in that dark alley, we were going to die. 

For the sake of me not having to relive those moments, I'm going to stop there with the details because you get the point. Getting robbed at gunpoint may seem small to you compared to some of the horrific things that have been happening to others lately. But to me it was everything. Those boys didn't just take my purse, my phone, and my personal items I valued out of my bag. They took my sense of security. They took my dignity, and they took my faith. 

After that it was a very dark time for me. I was afraid to do anything, afraid to get in the car with anybody. When I was at home alone I would grab items to defend myself in case "they came back for me". When I slept I would push the TV in front of the front and back door in case someone tried to get in. Ridiculous right? Yeah it may seem that way, but that's where I was at. I was so afraid to live my life, and I wanted it to go back to the way it was before it happened but it never did. You know what else? I was angry. This happened a few months post graduating from college, I did everything I was supposed to do. I went to school, I was the first in my family to graduate, I wasn't out here having sex with everybody, drinking, I wasn't doing drugs or any of those things. I didn't have a dime to my name but I readily gave what I had to anybody who needed it, fasted, prayed, and went to church every Sunday. I did what I was supposed to do! But man was I angry. There was family that turned their backs on me. There was also family who I thought should have stepped up more and looked out for me. All I could think was how could God put me in this situation? How could He do that to me? How could He leave me hanging like this? I did everything He asked me to do, but this is what I get in return? I was faithful to you all this time and you just left me out here like this?

I remember a little while later my mom took me to church. I had stopped going because I didn't see the point in it anymore. I remember sitting in church feeling like I was going to vomit because everything in me wanted to run out of there and be alone. But she made me get on my knees and pray. And I prayed, and I cried. And when I left I prayed, and cried some more. And for weeks, I prayed, and cried, and prayed, and cried...and there were so many times that I just knew God wasn't listening to me, but I kept praying, and I kept crying. And eventually I didn't cry as much, but I prayed a little more. And after that, I cried even less, and I prayed a lot more. Then eventually, I stopped crying, and I just prayed. 

You see, the boys that took those things from me were wanted for murder. And it took me a long time to realize that if I wasn't in that car that night, they probably would have taken my family member's life. Not probably, they would have. None of this was about me this entire time. I was placed there to save someone else. Even though I suffered, and I was hurt, and angry and I had hate in my heart, if I didn't go through any of that they wouldn't be here today. It took me a long time to come around to them again, because I felt so betrayed. But how could I harbor so much hate and pain towards someone who turned their back on me, when I turned my back on God and he still loved me? He still saw me through. Three years later I can look in the mirror and be exceptionally proud of the woman I've become, and continuing to grow into. Since then I've traveled so many places that I never thought I'd see, ate at some of the finest restaurants and didn't pay a dime, I shop whenever I want, can go and come as I please, there's so much more but believe me when I say I am truly living my best life right now. And I'm just getting started.

If it wasn't for my mother who pushed me, and prayed with me, and made me sit on that church pew and get myself together, I don't know where I would be. If it wasn't for that night on November 9th, I wouldn't be the different person that I am today. If I didn't go through that pain of feeling like God had left me, and didn't love me, I wouldn't have the relationship that I have with him today. I fail him everyday, but he has never failed me. He may have put me in a season where I was confused, and I didn't understand at the time what was happening, but he for sure brought me out of that season, and into a new season where I did understand. 

I didn't want to post this, in fear of what people would think, that they would think I was stupid, or this story was stupid and not worth reading. Or they would be turned off because I spoke so much on God's faithfulness even throughout my hard times. But you know, I don't really care. This is the first time I've shared my testimony, and maybe it was just time for me to share it, regardless of who likes it or not. I don't need 1000 men hitting me up, or to be married, or have 17463628498 kids running around to feel loved. God's love is so incredibly real. And you, reader, family member, mommy, daddy, or friend that cares enough about me, and supports me, and loves me, you that's reading right now are living proof of the love God has or me.

So much for keeping it short :)

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