Hear Your God Speaking

| Chapter: 8 |

The truth unfolds and it's clear as day. The clouds have moved away and the surface is dry from the rain. A new light shines beyond the clouded vision I've had of the world. No one alone has the power to see it, but everyone has access to it. You can't see it but you can feel it, it's like the air, invisible but it's there. You don't know how or why it is, but once you experience his presence you aren't so fixated about the madness behind it all. It is as real as everyone who confessed and believe say it is. It's not about testing the exist of God but rather taking a hold of him when everything else has left you dead inside, alone in the dark even on the brightest days, living knowing there may be a world outside of us. I couldn't quite receive that truth, because I knew nothing that didn't fall within the circumstances of my problems. Therapy was essentially, but it told me to do it myself through how I thought of myself and the situation that does not define me. This God offered me something so simple at first I couldn't take it, because I was taught to believe it would be fix through a length amount of time. Time isn't a friend of mine, in fact God promises comes to us in the right moment when we need help so deeply, and our timing isn't as perfect as his planning. So how long was I waiting? Not to discredit my therapy contributing. The bible says that the problem was there to do some defining, in trying to find what will come of me. Will I let that moment be there to take me in it's deadly lies, or rise up against the burden and walk in the faith that His will is that I win.

My brother and sister were there when I shared my truths. They were proud of me, they saw the change in me and embraced what I overcame, they can't wait for whats yet to come, and I can't either. We talked about baptism and buying me a bible. My sister wants me to read some of the devotionals she herself has gotten into. My brother talked about starting ways to share that testimony with my friends and the people I surround myself with everyday, "Go out there and tell the story of salvation and redemption let it spread like a wildfire, this needs to be contagious." It's all overwhelming, but a good type of overwhelming. They have always loved me, but this side of them that they are showing is the help they've wanted me to accept and the journey they steadfastly are trying to keep me on. It's crazy to think I was so resistant against this. We got home and the conversation felt like it could go on for days, but we all agreed to take it a step at a time. In the livingroom there my father sat on the couch watching a game on our flatscreen television. His feet was kicked up, and he had a can of red bull and one hand and the remote control in the other.

"Hey, how was youth?" He said mostly looking at me. He's looking at me, because my parents were the ones who told me to give it a try and I did ... I loved it.

"Good." I say, that short response didn't serve the experience of being in youth justice, but I want to give the full story with both of them here.

"Where's mom?" I ask, and we all spot her coming out the kitchen.

"Hey, lovely's why don't you guys wash up for dinner, it'll be ready in ten."

"Ten seconds? I'm starving." Heath remarks, and before he dashes for the stairs mom hits him with her kitchen towel, and he chuckles. I let Lauretta and Heath go up stairs without me.

"Is everything alright?" My mother ask, when she sees I'm still standing here.

" ... I told them." I just said at first, and paused for a moment. I couldn't tell anyone at first, and I did it with a room full of strangers, who called themselves my brothers and sisters in Christ.

"I told them, what happened to me." I get a sense she already knew what I meant the first time, it's something about a mother's instincts, when they just know. The towel that she had over her shoulder she took and placed it on the dinner table, and she looked astonishingly at me. I looked over to my father who had both his feet planted to the ground, with the same expression, but marveling at me.

"Oh ... Oh sweetheart" She exclaimed, holding her hand up to her face.

"And how did it feel?" My father asked, taking in the awe and the excitement of reaching this milestone. I smile and sigh and shook my head, because people words alone are powerful, but the experience is indescribable.

"Words can't express, I just knew from the beginning when I told them, to the end when it was all over I was free." Tears can symbolize weakness and vulnerability, but not these tears from my eyes. These tears were the cries of the pain I was letting go, and the rising of the strength God was growing in me. They praise the action that I have made in being able to speak up and have an open conversation about being a victim of human trafficking. I couldn't have done it if it weren't for the time we spent together as a family, building up my self-esteem, to tearing down my walls. My foundation was made firm with them, but these feet didn't want to stand with them; their love kept chasing after me as I ran and shoved them away.God instilled in them and in me these truths of spiritual strength that no man can take nor can a storm break the faith; To love as you love yourself, to forgive as you've been forgiven, when there is suffering then comes joy and healing.