My scars started forming very early in my life. I remember growing up in a very troubled (as we called it warped) family.

From the outside looking in, my family seemed ordinary (and connected) but behind closed doors there was a lot of anger, a lot of conflict, and a lot of hurt.  I was not brought up in a spiritual home at all.

My dad only ever wanted one son for a child (just shows how, what we want, gets us) He landed up with 4 girls instead.  I have two older sisters (Hilda and Teresa) and Angelique who is the youngest. 

Now my mom was an alcoholic (due to the death of her eldest child).   I remember one night, my dad made a joke and told me to pour my mothers beer down the kitchen sink, I thought this was fun and honestly thought that maybe it would help, in terms of her drinking,  so I grabbed the beer, ran to the kitchen and started pouring this beer down the kitchen sink.  As my mom came in and saw this, she got so angry, she turned around, went to my dad took his whiskey and poured it over his head.  Ouch big mistake! Now my mother was short chubby and my dad 6ft tall and bullet proof.  Anyway, my dad got up, and I still remember the fear I felt as I watched my father beating my mom to tears. 

I ran outside to hide, until I saw my mom outside too with a towel and ice on her face.  I remember my mom blaming me and for many years I felt that it was my fault.  It left a horrible feeling in my gut for a long time.

At home, physical and mental abuse was just a normal part of growing up. I deeply wanted my mothers love and approval but she seemed unable or unwilling to give it.

Not once did I hear her genuinely express her love for me (unless she just had a wierd way of showing it).  Instead, almost every time my mother came home from work, she would start drinking and start yelling (normally she would be awake at early hours of the morning drinking a bear with some brandy oudemester). Sometimes if she was in a bad mood, she would hit us out of bed to go clean dishes or something.  Each night, she was screaming about something or the other, nothing ever seemed to please her.  I was often told that I would never amount to anything, I would probably only have a job cleaning the streets, (well if you think of it I do but for Jesus, Save those souls Lord, Glory to God!)  Anyway if we told the truth I got hit, but if I could come up with a good lie, It was ok.  I use to lie like a fake rolex.  The physical pain of being beaten with whatever she could find caused marks and bruises, but those marks and bruises healed pretty quick. It was the emotional rejection I felt that caused the most pain. 

There's a verse in Proverbs that says, "Thoughtless words can wound as deeply as any sword."

That is so true. Emotional scars don't heal fast. At the age of 17, I decided to move

out of my home. I felt anything would be better than staying at home.  I moved in with a girl I met, anything to get away from the constant abuse.

That was the day I was given hope again. There was always one person in my life that gave me encouragement, and that was my sister Hilda.  She would always tell me to keep my chin up and go for my dreams.

Up to that time I'd never thought about dreaming into the future. I was only concerned about making it through the day.   It was now my 18^th birthday and sadly the last one I shared with my mother.  I remember getting a birthday card from her, with her own handwriting (which had never happened in my life, she would always ask the kids to write cards for her)  The card said in her own accent - I love you, chers.  Now I am not a person that collects birthday cards.  But till this day I still have that card, to remind me that she did love me.  Today through God’s healing grace I am healed of that pain and scarring, however it still makes me sad as before my 19^th Birthday she died. There was still so much I wish I could have said to her or wanted to hear her say.  Hopefully I will have the chance one day in Heaven.

About 4 years later my Dad died, and I was definitely the kind of person to push things in a closet.  I was brought up rough and tough and could get through anything.

There is much more that went on in my life as a child, as I was brought up in a somewhat ('connected') family. 

I eventually landed up into the drug scene (YuK) and that is when I met Bernice, my life partner (wife) now of 7 years.

Starting out in our relationship was tough (FOR HER OFF COURSE).  But she obviously saw something in me and pushed through!  It was through her that I came to the Lord.  It was through her family I found love and acceptance!

As I started out on my spiritual journey with this God that I had never heard of before, He started to speak to me.

Here are some of the scriptures that got me through!

"Even if my mother and father forsake me, the Lord will receive me." Ps. 27:10

“Until now you have not asked for anything in my name.  Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete” John 16:24

“Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you” Hebrews 13:5

“He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it” 1Corinth 10:13

And so it goes on.

In closing, I'd like to say something to those of you who possibly can relate to my story.

If you've felt the pain of rejection from a parent, a spouse, or anyone else,

I encourage you to open your life to the healing grace of Jesus because it works.

Stop listening to those old voices from your past and start listening to the truth that God says about you.

He loves you and has a plan for your life. And for those of you who show love and grace, continue to do so.  You don’t know who you are meeting or where they come from.  Or what there pain is.

I don’t believe that people were naturally created mean and nasty. 

Let us rise up to be church not only of unconditional love, but also of compassion and grace toward others.