BONNIE'S STORY
My dad died when I was four years old. He was an Air Force man, a student pilot, killed in a plane crash. The fully loaded cargo “Globemaster” crashed in a wooded area minutes after take-off, about four miles from the main runway – four men were seriously injured, and eighteen died, my dad among them.
He and my mom were married fifteen years when his life ended, and she did not remarry until I was around eleven. When I met my stepdad I was only six and I liked him. He took me to Father/Daughter Dinners with the Blue Birds, a Camp Fire Girl’s Club similar to the Brownies. Though I had numerous older stepbrothers and sisters, I felt disconnected from them, and more like a burden than a sibling. They had only recently lost their mom to cancer, and in their hurting, resented my mom and me. It was a lonely existence, especially when my mom went to work.
Around my sixth grade year, my mom and stepdad were drinking fairly heavily and often got into ugly fights unless I made sure to stay in the room. On one night in particular, they left me alone to go to a neighbor’s house for cocktail hour. A stranger, who was never caught, walked into our unlocked house and raped me. I called my mom and Harry, my stepdad, and then dialed the operator, as we didn’t have 911 dispatchers at that time. Calmly, I told her my name and address and asked for the police. When my parents arrived on the scene first, my mother cried, and Harry put his arm around me and asked me what happened. A kind police lady brought me into my bedroom and told me it wasn’t my fault, and my mother should never leave me alone again. They took me to UC Davis Medical Center for my first “female” exam, and a nice nurse there told me not to be nervous, for the doctor, it would be just like turning the pages of a book. The gentle, compassionate and caring manner in which these ladies interacted with me, played an integral role in my healing, and they are a poignant and important part of my memories from this traumatic time in my life. As I fight back the tears recalling that night, I realize the implications of this violation and all the ways it affected me are still not fully known, and there is no way I will ever be able to recall the incident without feeling a profound ache within me.
When I was fifteen, one of my stepbrothers introduced me to my future husband. By the time I turned sixteen we were married and expecting our first child. Being in high school and pregnant was rough … we lived in an apartment and I had to be homeschooled my junior year by teachers who came to my apartment. They taught me things like how to take care of my baby, how to defrost my freezer, grocery shop and other domestic chores, but my formal education suffered. Nonetheless, I managed to earn enough credits to graduate in my senior year, and was asked to give one of the speeches at the ceremony. My new daughter, husband, parents and in-laws were all there. After I finished my speech, I took our daughter into the bathroom and changed her diaper – my life has never felt normal.
Though I was not raised in a Christian home, I remember my mother dressing me up for Easter services. I carried a little purse and small white Bible, not because we read it, but because it gave me something to carry. There were small little hints indicating to me God was real, such as the picture hanging in my room of a boy and girl praying, and throughout my life I was drawn toward learning about God and interested in friends who went to church or talked about Him. I remember a boy in high school who tried to win me over by taking me on a “date” to church - it impressed me that he wanted to go to church, but unfortunately nothing the minister said made any sense to me. Little did I realize, my oldest daughter would be baptized in this church, and twenty-five some years later it would be the location for my favorite AA meetings.
When I was twenty-two a friend took me to her Baptist church, and when they announced the altar call, overwhelmed with emotion, I went forward and accepted Jesus as my Savior. Somehow I figured I’d feel different from being born again, but I didn’t, and my friend probably did not realize I needed her help to show me what to do next. Since nothing in my life changed, I thought “it” didn’t work for me, and I wasn’t truly born again, but I still desired to know the Lord. My mother-in-law went to church for a short time and took my oldest daughter with her, and I was so excited when a couple of men from the church came to visit our home. However, they only wanted to talk with my husband and he wasn’t interested. When they barely noticed or looked at me, let alone answer my questions, I gave up and decided their church must not be for me or my young family either. More stories like these popped up throughout my journey, but the bottom line is, I never got connected with God.
In the years following, my life began changing and going places I never imagined – at twenty-six I divorced my husband after ten years of marriage; a mistake extremely difficult for me to live with. I became depressed and began to seriously abuse alcohol. When my youngest daughter was in junior high, she got involved with Young Life, a Christian outreach ministry, where one of the leaders helped to lead her to Christ and discipled her in ways I did not have the ability to. My daughter often invited the group to meet at our house, where I stayed in my room drinking and happy she was experiencing what I never did, but also feeling terrible about myself. I figured if she was going to continue to be involved in Young Life maybe we should go to church together.
We visited a few churches before her leader suggested we try First Covenant of Sacramento, and we loved it. I liked going to church every Sunday, I liked the music and I could make some sense out of what the pastor said. I repeated the “Sinner’s Prayer” many times those first few years, just to make sure I was saved and tried my first Bible study, though it wasn’t a good fit. Then one evening when I was leaving, I saw a Christian recovery group meeting and felt thrilled. I truly wanted to stop drinking, and while it didn’t happen for about five more years, in 2000 I finally quit … for good.
After that I began growing spiritually, regularly attending Sunday Bible Studies, and for the first time in my life began studying God’s Word, praying for others and asking for prayer for myself. In 2005 I decided to become a member, and at the luncheon for new members met a fellow new member. We started dating and I thought it was going to be wonderful since I never dated a Christian man before, but I was deceived. He was not a Christian after all, but a predator, and I fell into sexual sin with him. Ashamed of myself, I knew I had to stop the sin, confess and be held accountable for my actions. I called the same Christian woman who lead my daughter to Christ and asked her for help – we agreed I should talk to someone at church. I can’t tell you how wonderful it was to have another godly woman walk me through this dark time, when I felt such guilt and self-condemnation. She gave me true biblical wisdom and discernment, showed me Christ-like forgiveness, listened and lifted me up and taught me Romans 8:1 - Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
Talking to the Senior Pastor was the hardest part. I admired him and wanted to be known by him, and be one of the people he greeted with a hug on Sundays. This was definitely not the way I envisioned meeting him. I felt embarrassed to talk to him about something so personal and so sinful, but when we talked on the phone he explained to me true repentance and what Christ’s forgiveness really means, and he made me promise I would come to him for a hug the following Sunday … he had no idea how much that hug meant to me.
After all that, somehow God chose to use me, and I now serve our church body on Sundays as an Usher Captain. On Wednesday nights I work with and help lead Women’s Bible Study, and for a time was part of the leadership team for Celebrate Recovery. I still have to work on my feelings of guilt and shame for my past, all too often comparing my relationship with God to the relationship I perceive others to have with Him. I don’t experience much of the bells and whistles, or choirs of angels singing that other believers seem to, but I know I have a close personal relationship with God in a way completely unique to Him and me. Friends who are part of my church family say they can see great spiritual growth in me, so for now, I choose to put my trust and faith in the truth of God’s Word and not get too hung up on my feelings.
The truth is … I am a child of God who is still growing.
He and my mom were married fifteen years when his life ended, and she did not remarry until I was around eleven. When I met my stepdad I was only six and I liked him. He took me to Father/Daughter Dinners with the Blue Birds, a Camp Fire Girl’s Club similar to the Brownies. Though I had numerous older stepbrothers and sisters, I felt disconnected from them, and more like a burden than a sibling. They had only recently lost their mom to cancer, and in their hurting, resented my mom and me. It was a lonely existence, especially when my mom went to work.
Around my sixth grade year, my mom and stepdad were drinking fairly heavily and often got into ugly fights unless I made sure to stay in the room. On one night in particular, they left me alone to go to a neighbor’s house for cocktail hour. A stranger, who was never caught, walked into our unlocked house and raped me. I called my mom and Harry, my stepdad, and then dialed the operator, as we didn’t have 911 dispatchers at that time. Calmly, I told her my name and address and asked for the police. When my parents arrived on the scene first, my mother cried, and Harry put his arm around me and asked me what happened. A kind police lady brought me into my bedroom and told me it wasn’t my fault, and my mother should never leave me alone again. They took me to UC Davis Medical Center for my first “female” exam, and a nice nurse there told me not to be nervous, for the doctor, it would be just like turning the pages of a book. The gentle, compassionate and caring manner in which these ladies interacted with me, played an integral role in my healing, and they are a poignant and important part of my memories from this traumatic time in my life. As I fight back the tears recalling that night, I realize the implications of this violation and all the ways it affected me are still not fully known, and there is no way I will ever be able to recall the incident without feeling a profound ache within me.
When I was fifteen, one of my stepbrothers introduced me to my future husband. By the time I turned sixteen we were married and expecting our first child. Being in high school and pregnant was rough … we lived in an apartment and I had to be homeschooled my junior year by teachers who came to my apartment. They taught me things like how to take care of my baby, how to defrost my freezer, grocery shop and other domestic chores, but my formal education suffered. Nonetheless, I managed to earn enough credits to graduate in my senior year, and was asked to give one of the speeches at the ceremony. My new daughter, husband, parents and in-laws were all there. After I finished my speech, I took our daughter into the bathroom and changed her diaper – my life has never felt normal.
Though I was not raised in a Christian home, I remember my mother dressing me up for Easter services. I carried a little purse and small white Bible, not because we read it, but because it gave me something to carry. There were small little hints indicating to me God was real, such as the picture hanging in my room of a boy and girl praying, and throughout my life I was drawn toward learning about God and interested in friends who went to church or talked about Him. I remember a boy in high school who tried to win me over by taking me on a “date” to church - it impressed me that he wanted to go to church, but unfortunately nothing the minister said made any sense to me. Little did I realize, my oldest daughter would be baptized in this church, and twenty-five some years later it would be the location for my favorite AA meetings.
When I was twenty-two a friend took me to her Baptist church, and when they announced the altar call, overwhelmed with emotion, I went forward and accepted Jesus as my Savior. Somehow I figured I’d feel different from being born again, but I didn’t, and my friend probably did not realize I needed her help to show me what to do next. Since nothing in my life changed, I thought “it” didn’t work for me, and I wasn’t truly born again, but I still desired to know the Lord. My mother-in-law went to church for a short time and took my oldest daughter with her, and I was so excited when a couple of men from the church came to visit our home. However, they only wanted to talk with my husband and he wasn’t interested. When they barely noticed or looked at me, let alone answer my questions, I gave up and decided their church must not be for me or my young family either. More stories like these popped up throughout my journey, but the bottom line is, I never got connected with God.
In the years following, my life began changing and going places I never imagined – at twenty-six I divorced my husband after ten years of marriage; a mistake extremely difficult for me to live with. I became depressed and began to seriously abuse alcohol. When my youngest daughter was in junior high, she got involved with Young Life, a Christian outreach ministry, where one of the leaders helped to lead her to Christ and discipled her in ways I did not have the ability to. My daughter often invited the group to meet at our house, where I stayed in my room drinking and happy she was experiencing what I never did, but also feeling terrible about myself. I figured if she was going to continue to be involved in Young Life maybe we should go to church together.
We visited a few churches before her leader suggested we try First Covenant of Sacramento, and we loved it. I liked going to church every Sunday, I liked the music and I could make some sense out of what the pastor said. I repeated the “Sinner’s Prayer” many times those first few years, just to make sure I was saved and tried my first Bible study, though it wasn’t a good fit. Then one evening when I was leaving, I saw a Christian recovery group meeting and felt thrilled. I truly wanted to stop drinking, and while it didn’t happen for about five more years, in 2000 I finally quit … for good.
After that I began growing spiritually, regularly attending Sunday Bible Studies, and for the first time in my life began studying God’s Word, praying for others and asking for prayer for myself. In 2005 I decided to become a member, and at the luncheon for new members met a fellow new member. We started dating and I thought it was going to be wonderful since I never dated a Christian man before, but I was deceived. He was not a Christian after all, but a predator, and I fell into sexual sin with him. Ashamed of myself, I knew I had to stop the sin, confess and be held accountable for my actions. I called the same Christian woman who lead my daughter to Christ and asked her for help – we agreed I should talk to someone at church. I can’t tell you how wonderful it was to have another godly woman walk me through this dark time, when I felt such guilt and self-condemnation. She gave me true biblical wisdom and discernment, showed me Christ-like forgiveness, listened and lifted me up and taught me Romans 8:1 - Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.
Talking to the Senior Pastor was the hardest part. I admired him and wanted to be known by him, and be one of the people he greeted with a hug on Sundays. This was definitely not the way I envisioned meeting him. I felt embarrassed to talk to him about something so personal and so sinful, but when we talked on the phone he explained to me true repentance and what Christ’s forgiveness really means, and he made me promise I would come to him for a hug the following Sunday … he had no idea how much that hug meant to me.
After all that, somehow God chose to use me, and I now serve our church body on Sundays as an Usher Captain. On Wednesday nights I work with and help lead Women’s Bible Study, and for a time was part of the leadership team for Celebrate Recovery. I still have to work on my feelings of guilt and shame for my past, all too often comparing my relationship with God to the relationship I perceive others to have with Him. I don’t experience much of the bells and whistles, or choirs of angels singing that other believers seem to, but I know I have a close personal relationship with God in a way completely unique to Him and me. Friends who are part of my church family say they can see great spiritual growth in me, so for now, I choose to put my trust and faith in the truth of God’s Word and not get too hung up on my feelings.
The truth is … I am a child of God who is still growing.