Not satisfied

So, I have decided that I'm not satisfied with my last post, although I will leave it up.

I DO have a passion and it goes deeper than I could ever express.

Wait a second while I turn the t.v. off.

Alright, much better.

I am extremely encouraged by a friend of mine, Aaron - he posts here: http://aholydiscontent.wordpress.com/

I just read his "Thoughts From the Desert" and one thing he said really caught my eye:

"I praise you Christ for using such broken, jacked up people to usher in your kingdom on earth as it is in heaven."

And I rest reassured from my past that God CAN use me - and He will, its only a matter of when I decide to fully surrender.

I can't lie, I am not yet at the point of full surrender. Oh, I would love to be there, but there's this thing called letting go that God really has me on.

Full surrender is letting go and relinquishing all control - and my full life - into his hands.

I think I may almost be at that point, but not quite there as I need to learn more on letting go.

I am not quite there on the letting go part. I just like to hold on.

Maybe its from my childhood that I learned to hold on. But, to be honest with you, I don't have many memories from my childhood - I think I've blocked them out.

If I can't let go of something, God does not have full reign in my life.

Back to the quote from Aaron (yeah, I get side tracked easily), I can tell you that I am a broken and jacked up person.

My past is NOTHING to glory in, the only thing that demands Glory is the work of God in my life. Nothing that I have done is worth recognition.

Before I met my husband, I was in an extremely abusive relationship. This guy would get mad at me and make me put a pillow over my head so he could beat it. I was a drug addict. There was a point in my life where I felt like I was nothing. At that time, my life was too painful to bear, or so I thought. I had gone down from a healthy 130 lbs. to less than 100 lbs. when the guy broke up with me because I didn't eat anything for 6 days straight - except for an oreo cookie. I could not look at my face in the mirror without feeling pain and anger. I did NOT like what I saw. My eyes were sunk in the back of my head, my cheeks were sunk in and I looked sick. That is when I gave up. And, that is when I started to do hard drugs. And my drug of choice happened to be the one that took my life away at the first try - methanphetamine. While in the hospital almost 36 hours after I had smoked what I thought was liquid ecstasty for the first time, I stopped breathing, my world went black and was told by the nurse and a close friend that my body turned green due to toxic posioning. The doctor didn't - and probably still DOESN'T - know how I survived. I had a LETHAL amount of methanphetamine in my system still a day and a half after I had first done the drug. It was only by the Grace of God that I survived.
At that point, I was addicted to meth. It was an instant addiction. I would go 6 days smoking (the days I had to work) and then one day of rest. To be able to afford my very expensive habit, I basically became a prostitute. I sold myself for money. It is really hard for me to think back to this. I am so ashamed of what I did. The sex was protected, but my heart wasn't. I wound up raped by my ex's mother's boyfriend, because he was told that since he paid for our drugs, any time he wanted me, he could have me. I started to turn to pornography, but since I was too afraid to get tested for STD's, the plans for that fell through. I was a modern day Mary Magdalene.
I deserved death and I knew it. I tried so hard to escape from the horrible reality of my life by doing drugs. Ecstasy made me feel loved. Marijuana made me relax. Cocaine and meth both gave me a burst of energy to make it through. Mushrooms distorted my world. Ketamine enhanced my senses. Acid took me to another world. But when the high wore down, I was back in reality and the pain that had "disappeared" during my high was back with a fury.
I smoked meth because it "opened my eyes to see truths and wisdoms I had never known." I wrote and wrote and wrote -little did I know that I was only writing from my heart. I was silently crying out for someone to save me, because I knew I had gone too far and could not save myself.
There was a turning point though, the start of the beginning. I was extremely depressed so I locked my bedroom door, then locked myself in the bathroom and screamed that I was holding a knife to my throat - which I was. I cried out from the depths of my soul to God and begged him to save me so I wouldn't have to kill myself. I didn't want to kill myself, I just wanted a way out.
Well, to satisfy the attention I craved, my ex fought his way into the bathroom with me. I remember crying and crying and crying nonstop. He said he loved me, but since he was with someone else, he couldn't let anyone else know that he loved me. And this broke me even more.
To forward the turning point, I kicked my ex and his girlfriend out, after I had already kicked her friend out. When his mom went to a halfway house, she took his little brother - which left me and her boyfriend. I did not like this, as I would be asleep and he would join me in my bed. I was uncomfortable and even more desperate for a change in my life.
Since I needed money, I decided one night to go to work with the girlfriend who was a friend of my friend. So for one night, I was a stripper. I can look back now and laugh about how horribly clumsy I was, but the fear that struck me that night is something I will never forget. I didn't like being touched or grabbed at. I didn't like the looks from guys who didn't care about me. It makes my skin crawl just to think about it. And, to make matters worse, my ex's mom's boyfriend kept calling. I was overwhelmed and knew that I couldn't go home - I was afraid to go home. I called a friend of mine to come pick me up. My stomach was a mess, I was a mess. I paid my dues and headed out. When I realized that he would not stop calling me, I leaned over and vomited. I knew that things HAD to change - I could not live life that way, nor would I survive if I had to keep living like that.
My friend finally picked me up and drove me to his house. I poured out everything that I had been holding in, and the next morning, I was told that I fell asleep mid-sentence. I had not slept in several days because I was afraid to go to sleep, I was afraid of what could/would happen if I fell asleep.
The next night, my friend took me to the club that I spent every weekend at. But, before we went, we loaded up on a few drugs. By the time we got to the club, I could hardly walk, much less see. While walking up the stairs, I heard a voice say, "What are you doing here with him?" I turned around, but since I couldn't see any faces, I just shrugged my shoulders and went inside. I don't remember most of the night, but I do remember this guy. He wouldn't leave me alone, so I gave in and talked to him and wound up having a really good time with him - I do remember laughing and joking with him, which was something I hadn't done in a long time. The laughing sparked a flame of hope within me. Little did I know the importance this guy would have in my life; little did I know that he was the answer to my prayers.
We pretty much bonded. He opened up to me with things about his childhood and I returned with things from my own childhood. I could see it in his eyes that he was hurting, just like I was. I learned that he was a deejay at the club I went to every weekend, so, needless to say, we were at the club every weekend.
I had warrants out from outstanding fines from moving violation tickets, so I decided to spend the time in jail. Before I turned myself in, I smoked meth and was as high as a kite. I spent the night wide awake, trying to remember the words to a song since I had already read through my book. I rocked back and forth and made noises to entertain myself. And, in the process, wound up scaring one of the guards. When my holding cell was opened for me to eat breakfast, he made sure that he was quick enough to get into the next room before I got out of my cell. I savored the frosted honey bun, but did not drink the coffee. He came to take my trash and I could tell that he was cautiously approaching me. I threw my trash away in the bag he held and polietely said, "thank you," with a smile.
When the afternoon came, I got a roomie for my holding cell. She said she was waiting to be picked up by Lou Sterret's because some girl said something about her and murder. I don't remember, I was extremely afraid.
So, when the judge called for me, I was very quick to admit my guilt and say that I wanted to pay the fine. I wanted OUT of that crazy house!
Shortly after that, I wound up losing my apartment and moving in with that one special guy. e wound up both getting back into meth - after our several personal attempts to quit before we met each other - and our relationship took serious sharp turns. Constant bickering and yelling while we were coming down from our high was too much for me to handle. Our roommate being the drama queen he was, was too much for us to handle. Our lives were out of control. So, one day while sober, we decided that we needed to quit drugs. That was December of 2006. By January 1, 2007, we had both quit drugs - cold turkey - and he also quit smoking ciggarettes.
By February, we moved out of where we were to live with my boss.
On a whim, we decided to visit his mom at her church. We were still going to the club at the time, but had slowed down a lot.
In April, when DJhd a job, we moved into our own apartment. I had a new job, but kept getting really sick and tired (literally) with no apparant (to us) reason. At the end of June, after I dry heaved at a computer in the public library, I decided to take a pregnancy test. So, I went to the Family Dollar - or whatever it was - purchased a $4 pregnancy test and went home. I took a measuring cup and peed in it (don't worry, I threw it away). I then stuck the test in it - results were supposed to appear within two minutes. In less than 30 seconds, there was a line in each of the boxes. After getting a little light headed, I re-read the directions and nearly passed out to know that the test said I was pregnant.
I called DJ on the phone and asked if he was sitting down. When he said yes, I told him that we were pregnant. I wish he had told me that he was driving before I told him the news because I know he almost wrecked at that point.
And that, was our final turning point. DJ (who was and still is that special guy in my life) and I soon quit the club after we had the pregnancy confirmed. We got back in church, and started to allow God to change our lives.
November 11, 2007, we were married by vows (but not legally since I would have lost my medicaid). On January 21, 2008, we welcomed our 8 lb. 14 oz. 21 1/2 in. long baby girl, Micah Grace, into this world. We have been drug free since January 2007, and since that time, God changed our lives.
Micah was the last straw that sealed the deal on our sobriety. We wanted to give our baby the best life we could give her, and having only missed one Sunday of church in her whole life - we certainly have her started on the right path.
Does this make either one of us perfect, no.
Am I jacked up? Well, I haven't been a saint my whole life.
Am I broken? Daily.

But when I hand over my jacked up past and my broken pieces to God, He uses me to reach others.

So, I am ready to hand over my jacked up past along with my broken pieces to God.

I am ready to let go.