I would love to tell you my name and then tell you my story in full, not caring about the look in your eyes or wondering the thoughts that would go through your mind, but I cannot. I am not there yet but I will not let me stand in the way of sharing my testimony with you so here goes my story...
I’m still a pretty young adult, early twenties but my life has been long. I won’t bore you with too many details but I’ll try to make the snapshots that I’ll show you as clear as I can.
I was born a few years back to middle-class parents, went to a middle-class school stayed in a middle-class area, in short I was just like you. Growing up, was sickly and my parents worried about it, my dad used to dote on me, my mum too but after a while she got tired and started to lash out at me. Back then I didn’t understand how she could be so cruel but now I know it’s hard to live day in day out with a sick person. From time to time even I got tired of being me. My mum wasn’t, and still isn’t a bad person, she was just under a lot of stress. Let me pause my story and quickly tell you that if you are having problems with your parents, take time out to look through their eyes and see what they too are going through. They gave birth to you and they really want you to be happy.
Back to my gist, my health put strain on a lot of things at home- my parents’ pocket, my parents’ relationship with each other, relationships between me and my siblings, my mum and I... I began to define myself on the basis of my health and I blamed God a lot because I felt it was unfair for my grandmother to be asthmatic then it would skip my father’s generation clear and then come my way. It was my mum that made sure I stayed independent because she never cut me any slack. Today I’m glad that she did that.
Growing up was basically going to school, church and staying home but I still managed to mix with the wrong sort. Looking back I know the only reason I didn’t smoke was because of my asthma, I tried alcohol but I never could keep it down, sex was what I really wanted to do but the only guy I “loved” was some fourteen years or so older than me so it slowed things down then I almost got raped and that killed sex for me for a while
I said almost raped because I was fortunate to have been left with my hymen intact, as in, there was no actual penetration but that day remains clear in my mind. He was a family friend and he came to my house when I was “home alone”, I didn’t go to school because I had chicken pox, most of the pustules had healed by then but I stayed home for the rest of the week because as my mum would say I had a weak immune system. He asked for water which I went to fetch in the kitchen. I took it to him in the living room and when I handed it to him he pulled my hand with the cup. Pulling me to his lap wasn’t that uncomfortable at first until he started touching me. Long and short was that my aunt came home and opened the door with her key and started screaming along with me when she saw him on top of me on the floor. He hurriedly righted his clothes and raced past her.
I felt dirty for a long time. I just wanted to “show” boys. It was about this time I got into the university so I started “playing” players. If anyone broke the heart of a girl, I would hang out with him then walk out on him when he started getting comfortable. I was having fun until my examinations came and I fell sick. Too sick to put in my best, I failed a major course. I had never failed before so it was devastating to me. It was at this low point in my life that I met a friend who showed me Jesus. Yes, he didn’t preach but he was just like Jesus. I thought he was doing all the being a perfect friend so he could ask me out but he never did. I met Jesus and my life did change. Today I am healed of asthma. I have not had an attack in three years. Yes I still deal with psychological scars but I’m learning to drop them every day as I walk with God
So walk with God; that’s the only way. It may not be all better but if you stay with him, it eventually will.
This is part of my story, I realise I can’t tell all, but I believe you have learnt something from it and you’ll stick with Jesus through your pain.
If this story applies to you and you want to identify with it, please send a mail to firstname.lastname@example.org
If you are past the teen age or still a teenager and you have a story to tell that will help other teenagers, please send your story to the above e-mail address also.