The Power of God’s Love – Dorrie’s Story

The Power of God's Love

My life began somewhat normal. I stress the somewhat. I was born into a great family with two loving parents. But of course from day one there were problems. My mother was still legally married to her ex husband, the father of my older brother. It was his last name that they put on my birth certificate, and only the year I turned 16 was it changed. It was a hassle, but nothing is ever easy. When I was two years old my parents finally got married. My mother was pregnant with my younger brother at the time, but she still looked beautiful in her dress. The whole wedding was beautiful, but that is all I remember of it. My mother also had a brain tumor. She was in and out of hospitals as my brother and I were growing up. We moved a lot in our early years, until we found this great house and in a great neighborhood. I loved it there. It was a beautiful house in walking distance from the water. We lived there for a few years. My mom had grown quite sick in those two years. One night, my father had a few friends over. They were in the garage having some beer and just hanging out. My mother had a seizure. She locked my brother and I in her room, and wrecked the house. She threw furniture and other things out the windows just basically ruined the house. She threw herself into the walls until she was all bruised and battered. Then she called the police and blamed it on my father. They arrested him, but the next day my grandma bailed him out. They did not quite believe my mother's story. He stayed with my grandparents because he had nowhere else to go. A few days later, my mother dropped off my brother, and the day after that, she dropped me off. My mother moved in with her mother, unable to take care of herself.

Of course my little brother and I had no idea what was going on. We were only four and six years old at the time. We just thought it was a small visit with our grandparents. But that small visit turned to weeks, to months. Finally I had to switched elementary schools. It was then that I finally realized exactly what was going on.

Those months after the split were brutal on me. I lost my mother, my friends, my life, all at the same time. I used to sit up and cry for hours on end for my mother. I had no contact with her. I could not tell her I loved her, and how much I missed her. She locked herself in her bedroom, and when she was not there, she was in the hospital, or a mental clinic.

My father brought me to counseling to discuss my feelings of hurt and abandonment. I remember writing stories about my mother and us all as a happy family, and drawing pictures and paintings of her. The counseling helped a lot, my father said, but I don't really remember it, but I will just take his word for it. My father is a great guy, but we were never really close. We talk, and when we do we get along, but we are not as tight as my brother and him are, but that is understandable. Sometimes I wish we were, but that is ok.

My grandmother and I are very close and have been for a long time. She is the motherly figure my brother and I grew up with. I want to emulate her when I get older. She is a great person, and a great friend. I am glad that God brought us to live here. Although we do get into many arguments because of the age gap, I love her and am thankful for her every day.

Now all through elementary school and middle school I experianced the problems the loss of my mother in my life occured. I turned to food as comfort. Whenever I was sad, angry, anything, I would eat. I became a pretty big child and was picked on at school because of it. I became depressed and antisocial because of it. Everyday it was a new joke at my expense. I did not have fun going to school, but until about 7th grade, I pulled very good grades. I wanted the praise of my parents, but I did not get it. I even made National Honor Society, but I hardly got any praise. Just a good job would have been great. Finally I decided that working my butt off to get good grades was not anything unless I got praise for it, so I stopped trying and became a big slacker.

In the eighth grade, a few friends and I created a singing group. We were doing pretty well, so we signed ourselves up for the talent show our school was putting on. Well, a week before the show, one of the girls who was my very best friend decided she did not want to be in the group anymore. It was like a dagger to my heart. I took it as if she did not want to be my friend anymore either. The week of my 14th birthday she layed this on the other girl (who soon became my best friend) and I. I didn't think it was fair. I became very depressed, thinking it was something I did and that's why she did not want to sing with us anymore. Plus it was and still is a dream of mine to earn success in the music industry, so I second-guessed that as well. I drastically lost and gained weight, and my grades plummetted a lot. I was also completely atheist. If there was a God, why would he let all this happen to me?, I used to think. This went on until I reached High School.

In my freshman year, I really could care less about anything. I cut classes, experimented with a lot of different things. I just plain did not care. When I got caught doing things, I would lie to get myself out of it. I slept in classes and did not care about myself or anyone around me. In fact, I just plain hated the world. By the end of my freshman year, my best friend and I were no longer friends because of my attitude towards things in the world.

In the summer going into my sophomore year, I began to cut myself to get rid of my anguish. Moreover, my brother broke his leg. I grew away from a lot things, and became very close with my brother. I began to feel a little better about myself because I knew my brother loved me and he wanted my company. But still, I cut my arm. I could not stop it. I had and still have trouble discussing my problems, and I really had no one close to me to talk to. My brother was only 13, he would not understand what I was going through. I turned to Wicca. I let Satan control me. I grew deeper into the dark side, and was there when my sophomore year began.

In the beginning of the year, I became friends with two Christians and began to like this nonchristian guy a lot. In order to hang out with him, I decided to take up this girl's offer to go to her Youth Group, although I did not believe in her God. I hung out with the guy, and her, but not really anyone else. The people there had something I did not have, and I did not want it at the time either. I never felt secure there, but for some reason, every week I was there.

My life was growing harder and harder to handle. Satan's reigns on me held strong. Everytime I was upset, I would get high or drunk or cut. I was having a harder and harder time getting up in the morning. Finally on March 2, 2001, I could not handle it anymore. I knew I could not live like this anymore. I did not want to live. I thought I would take my paxil and overdose, just so I wouldn't have to live another day. Before I did, however, I knew I had to say goodbye to some people, so I went online to write an email. I didn't think it would be nice to commit suicide and not say goodbye. I began talking with this guy from the teen club. He asked a question on a touchy subject of mine. He asked if I was going to go to heaven or hell. I said hell. He asked if I wanted to go to heaven, and I said yes. Who would want the eternity of torture over the spendidness of heaven? Well, then why don't you change, he asked me. I told him that I didn't think I could. He then typed out John 3:16 to me. I read it and reread it. Something happened to me. I wanted to be Christian. The next thing I knew I was upstairs at the bookcase getting out the old dusty bible. I brought it back down to the computer. By the end of the night, I asked Jesus into my heart, and He entered it.

My life has gotten better and better throughout the past 4 months. It was hard at first to shake off the grip of Satan, but it was worth it. With God in my life I can do anything, and He can do anything through me. I have given my life to him and all I want now is to please him. I finally have the purpose I had been searching for for 16 years. It is a great feeling! I just have one thing to thing to leave you with. God fills the empty spot in the heart. I tried to fill it with Satan's darkness and drugs and alcohol, but only God filled it. Life is worth living now that I have God in it.

In His love forever,

Dorrie