Leisel’s Testimony

You might be wondering how I got here. What happened to me that is now inspiring me to write my testimony, my story? The short answer is that I experienced severe forms of abuse. I was in a world of hurt until I got help and ultimately found what I was looking for in Jesus Christ. We will unpack my experiences (and yours) in more detail as we journey together here. The longer story goes something like this…

When I was young, I experienced a lot of abuse. I was raped and verbally manipulated by a sibling, and no one did anything about it. No talking, no explaining, no help. The abuse continued into my college years through my dad and the church I attended. Everything I wanted to do was met with a “no” until I gave up being who I wanted to be and doing what I wanted to do. I gave up being myself. I took on my dad’s identity to please him. I was so used to the abuse that I found a church, which at first was very healing to me, and then turned out to be very manipulative and abusive also. When I was in marriage counseling, the pastor decided to ask if we had had sex. It was obvious that we were abstaining from sex until we got married. But, when we took issue with it, the pastor launched into a 30-minute tirade beating me over the head with his words. He yelled and screamed at me. He hurled insults. He told me that I had huge emotional problems, and he told my fiancée that he was going to have all sorts of problems with me. He said he did not want to give his marriage advice to swine. (Yes. He said that) He even called my fiancée later to convince him not to marry me.  I was so stunned when he was done with the tirade that I did not know what to do. I tried to keep going in the session but ended it soon after. I was stunned. In some ways, this experience was the culmination of all the bad experiences I had had up until that point in my life. When I got married and moved to my new job, I was done with Christianity. I was done with God. I was done. Done. Done. Done.

For the first two years after that, I prayed, but I did not read my bible. I went to church and sang in a choir. I was so angry. I was very hurt. I blocked things out and went about my life because I was finally on my own and away from being told what to do. I was an adult. After two years, I decided I better do something about my walk with God, so I told him that I needed to do something. I decided I would at least try. I read about 1 verse a day using an app. After about two years of that I was willing to talk to a lay counselor which also blew up in my face. I finally started seeing a counselor about 5 years into my time out of the house. As I started to unravel all that had been done to me, I was completely broken…shattered. I cried a lot – not because I was a girl or because I was weak. I was in so much pain. The hurt was coming to the surface. All that I had experienced including old thought patterns I thought I was rid of were all coming back. Suddenly I was suicidal again. I wanted to cut again.

When I was in high school, when I first wanted to kill myself, I was in my room listening to Christian music. I was planning out what I was going to do. I still considered myself a Christian, so I prayed and was talking to God. I heard…him tell me that he loved me…I still cry every time I think or write about it. It is the one thing that saved me. While this truth got buried many times over, it was (and still is) enough to keep me going.

As I worked through my pain with the counselor, I started to see hope. Working through my experiences was hard. There was a lot to talk about. I had tons of bad memories and tons of bad habits. Around that time, I started martial arts training which helped me reclaim my body. If you have a physical problem, it needs a physical solution. If you have a spiritual problem, it needs a spiritual solution. I had so many problems that needed the right solution.

I was so overwhelmed because once I dealt with one problem, there was another thing to deal with. I was so worn out. Around the time I started counseling, my dad was diagnosed with a life shortening disease. I continued to work through my problems as I walked in anticipatory grief for about two years. When he died, I descended into a dark place. I was at once relieved and sad. Six months after he died, I conceived, but the baby died in the middle of the first trimester. At that point, I was in a very dark place.

I was very lonely. The pain I had collected was all around me. I wanted to break free but could not, and I did not know how I was ever going to climb out. Three months later, I conceived again and gave birth to my first child with much difficulty. Everything about the pregnancy was hard. We even got stuck in traffic for two hours at a standstill while trying to get to the hospital to be induced.

Everything was against me. When I was done giving birth and finally home, I was stoned. I was supposed to be happy, and I was not. I was supposed to be enjoying all sorts of cute moments with my new baby, and I was not. The pictures painted for me by others about having a child were somewhere in the trash!

Life was hard. She screamed and screamed. I was spent. I had zero energy. As I slowly climbed out from underneath the ash heap, I started to put the pieces together. Having a child turned out to be one of the better experiences for me. I started to have cute moments with my daughter.

I continued counseling off and on and made some progress. I went on a diet, lost all the baby weight, and created better eating habits. I started to clean out every room in my home so that it was organized and functional. I finally went to a counselor and pastor who introduced me to the concept of shame. He put me on a steady diet of journaling, and the hard armor fell off my heart.

A side effect of this counseling was that my body released the abuse also. One day when I was processing the positive reality about myself, I started standing up straighter. I immediately had sciatica symptoms and all kinds of neck pain. This sent me to the doctor who sent me to physical therapy. Through physical therapy, we are slowly rebuilding and repairing my body. I have a core again, and my muscles are re-engaging.

Today, I finally feel connected to God like I did in my younger years. Hope exists, and it exists through Christ. I did not always feel or see God as I walked through the pain and suffering. He felt far away, and I would shake my fist and swear at him. Now I know that his hand has been upon me the whole time. The blinders are off, and I can finally see him again.

This testimony feels like a short version also. In each one of theses paragraphs, I could pack in a couple stories and insights I learned at each stage. This journey took time and effort. Every moment I passed through was in slow motion. Each phase of life and thought has its distinct circumstances, memories, and truths. There was so much pain. There was joy too, but it was often overshadowed. As you journey with me through my story, I would love to hear about yours. Send me a note using the form below with your story. This journey is not just about me, but about what Christ can do in all of us.