JENNIE'S STORY
God rescued me from a childhood and background of considerable sexual dysfunction and various addictions. Around the age of 4, I was exposed to things of a sexual nature in my home that normalized unhealthy behaviors, skewed personal boundaries, and had a tremendous negative impact on my self-image, sense of worth, and perceived role as a female.
We were the quintessential military officer’s family where appearances meant everything, but underneath our lovely candy coated surface, things were anything but sweet. A Navy man, Dad spent a better part of his life onboard giant vessels of floating steel, eventually commanding several of them, a fact I feel proud of to this day. However, his journeys took him out to sea and ports of call around the world for up to eight months at a time. When at home, Dad’s temper often spewed over onto his family in raging fits of yelling, cussing and abuse; the consequence of his own tumultuous childhood as an orphan. None the less, I continued to crave, yet rarely received, what every girl longs for – the love and attention of her daddy. And like other girls, when I could not get it from my dad, I began to seek it elsewhere ... after all, that was my "normal."
Growing up, I cannot remember a time when I did not recognize God as real or accept that His Son Jesus died on a cross for my sins. As children, we went to church regularly, celebrated Christmas and Easter, and prayed to God each night with our mom before going to bed. I longed to know God and do right in His eyes, often paging through the Bible in an effort to understand it, I felt immense guilt when I thought I failed God, because my view of Him was distorted by my relationship with a tyrannical and distant earthly Dad. My precious mom did her best to teach me about God and what it means to be Christian, but like huge fill-in-the-blank spaces on a test, I desperately needed the right answers.
During my eleventh year on planet earth we moved from the East Coast to California where I soon began drinking, smoking pot and exploring sexually (though this was not a new behavior). Being ogled, violently accosted and demeaned by guys I met was quickly becoming the standard for me, as I continued to desperately seek any manner of attention or acceptance. When I was thirteen, I officially lost my virginity with my first steady boyfriend who thought watching his dad’s stash of porn together, biting me and leaving large bruises and hickeys all over my young body and breasts, was sexy. After several months into the relationship I became pregnant and believed I had no other alternative than to have a state-funded abortion – a process I went through on my own aided by Planned Parenthood, and without the knowledge or consent of my parents.
By sixteen I contracted a venereal disease I will never be cured from, and at eighteen I’d lost track of the number of guys I had given myself to - some of them were married, many of them were twice my age, and all were abusive in some way. None really knew me or cared about the hurting, lonely girl buried beneath the blonde hair and makeup. They used me to satisfy their lusts, and I used them in vain attempts to gratify the familiar, yet unknown yearning within my soul. Somewhere along the way, I decided the only thing I had to offer were my looks, and my entire purpose was to please men.
Just after my eighteenth birthday, I began working as a stripper in Phoenix, AZ. It seemed like the logical, natural next step for me, and initially I got high off the adoration of the men. I felt powerful, strong and in control of them, but very quickly my days were spent sleeping, my afternoons were spent doing meth, and my nights were spent drinking and filling my lungs with pot to shut my brain off. At this point, I would have done nearly anything to feel loved, desirable, worthwhile, admired or accepted – and, I do mean anything. While bringing home a wad of cash seemed great, most of it went to drugs and having a place to live. After several months, and a close call with another customer who "only wanted to buy me breakfast," I grew bored with my perceived power and moved back home to California where I joined the military. However, in spite of looking squared away, I remained an emotionally scattered and scarred young woman who longed to be valued and loved.
This relentless pining would eventually land me in another abusive relationship with a man, who I learned years later, is a sexual predator and registered sex offender. The one beautiful gift to come out of that otherwise disastrous affair is my beloved daughter. The first few months of my pregnancy were some of the most dismal and loneliest I have known, with no one but God to trust or turn to. Thankfully, God heard the pleas of my wayward heart, and the military aided me in fleeing from my latest abuser by giving me orders back to my home state. Here I met the only man to ever treat me with tenderness and respect by demonstrating sacrificial love, compassion, and loyalty. He is the man I now call my husband and best friend. He is the Daddy to our daughter, and the example of a true man of honor for our son.
Eventually after a long absence, and living in another state for nearly eighteen years, my dad came to live with us, bringing with him a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s. Taking care of him during the next five years challenged and pushed me to the brink of my sanity, and forced me to once again fiercely seek God for help. During this five year ordeal, my family often found me slumped on the floor in the bedroom sobbing. In a heap of tears and misery I cried out, "Why me, God?" Words cannot adequately describe the anguish and stress involved in taking care of a loved one with Alzheimer’s, but somehow God managed to turn that time into a most extraordinary blessing in disguise.
Throughout my life, what I longed for and wanted most was my dad’s time, attention, affection, and love. And just when I thought I might finally receive it, his mind began withering away. It became painfully obvious to me that the Father I needed, the only one who could be everything I ever wanted, was the One who persistently wooed me out of the dark and painful abyss, and rescued me from being raped, prostituted, killed, or picked up in a gutter from overdosing on drugs or alcohol. At no point did He abandon me, forget about me or stop loving me. Gently and patiently, God called to me, waiting for me to ask Him into my heart and give me a new life. When I finally relinquished, He was there for me saying, “I have always loved you, Jennie, and you can come to me just as you are!”
Dearly loved and cherished woman, God feels the same about you. He will never use you, betray you, or belittle you. He is the One who made you and who gave up His very own life for you. Wherever you are, just as you are, God loves you and desires more than anything in this world to be known by you and share a deep and lasting relationship with you.
The first bit of Scripture I ever memorized was Romans 8:28, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." I absolutely believe and affirm this truth, and live to be an example of it. No matter what your life circumstances look like now or in the past, God has the power and desire to work them all out for good. It may not always be easy, but He can do it if you ask Him to.
With love and affection,
Jennie Nagy
Co-founder with God
As you are Outreach
We were the quintessential military officer’s family where appearances meant everything, but underneath our lovely candy coated surface, things were anything but sweet. A Navy man, Dad spent a better part of his life onboard giant vessels of floating steel, eventually commanding several of them, a fact I feel proud of to this day. However, his journeys took him out to sea and ports of call around the world for up to eight months at a time. When at home, Dad’s temper often spewed over onto his family in raging fits of yelling, cussing and abuse; the consequence of his own tumultuous childhood as an orphan. None the less, I continued to crave, yet rarely received, what every girl longs for – the love and attention of her daddy. And like other girls, when I could not get it from my dad, I began to seek it elsewhere ... after all, that was my "normal."
Growing up, I cannot remember a time when I did not recognize God as real or accept that His Son Jesus died on a cross for my sins. As children, we went to church regularly, celebrated Christmas and Easter, and prayed to God each night with our mom before going to bed. I longed to know God and do right in His eyes, often paging through the Bible in an effort to understand it, I felt immense guilt when I thought I failed God, because my view of Him was distorted by my relationship with a tyrannical and distant earthly Dad. My precious mom did her best to teach me about God and what it means to be Christian, but like huge fill-in-the-blank spaces on a test, I desperately needed the right answers.
During my eleventh year on planet earth we moved from the East Coast to California where I soon began drinking, smoking pot and exploring sexually (though this was not a new behavior). Being ogled, violently accosted and demeaned by guys I met was quickly becoming the standard for me, as I continued to desperately seek any manner of attention or acceptance. When I was thirteen, I officially lost my virginity with my first steady boyfriend who thought watching his dad’s stash of porn together, biting me and leaving large bruises and hickeys all over my young body and breasts, was sexy. After several months into the relationship I became pregnant and believed I had no other alternative than to have a state-funded abortion – a process I went through on my own aided by Planned Parenthood, and without the knowledge or consent of my parents.
By sixteen I contracted a venereal disease I will never be cured from, and at eighteen I’d lost track of the number of guys I had given myself to - some of them were married, many of them were twice my age, and all were abusive in some way. None really knew me or cared about the hurting, lonely girl buried beneath the blonde hair and makeup. They used me to satisfy their lusts, and I used them in vain attempts to gratify the familiar, yet unknown yearning within my soul. Somewhere along the way, I decided the only thing I had to offer were my looks, and my entire purpose was to please men.
Just after my eighteenth birthday, I began working as a stripper in Phoenix, AZ. It seemed like the logical, natural next step for me, and initially I got high off the adoration of the men. I felt powerful, strong and in control of them, but very quickly my days were spent sleeping, my afternoons were spent doing meth, and my nights were spent drinking and filling my lungs with pot to shut my brain off. At this point, I would have done nearly anything to feel loved, desirable, worthwhile, admired or accepted – and, I do mean anything. While bringing home a wad of cash seemed great, most of it went to drugs and having a place to live. After several months, and a close call with another customer who "only wanted to buy me breakfast," I grew bored with my perceived power and moved back home to California where I joined the military. However, in spite of looking squared away, I remained an emotionally scattered and scarred young woman who longed to be valued and loved.
This relentless pining would eventually land me in another abusive relationship with a man, who I learned years later, is a sexual predator and registered sex offender. The one beautiful gift to come out of that otherwise disastrous affair is my beloved daughter. The first few months of my pregnancy were some of the most dismal and loneliest I have known, with no one but God to trust or turn to. Thankfully, God heard the pleas of my wayward heart, and the military aided me in fleeing from my latest abuser by giving me orders back to my home state. Here I met the only man to ever treat me with tenderness and respect by demonstrating sacrificial love, compassion, and loyalty. He is the man I now call my husband and best friend. He is the Daddy to our daughter, and the example of a true man of honor for our son.
Eventually after a long absence, and living in another state for nearly eighteen years, my dad came to live with us, bringing with him a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s. Taking care of him during the next five years challenged and pushed me to the brink of my sanity, and forced me to once again fiercely seek God for help. During this five year ordeal, my family often found me slumped on the floor in the bedroom sobbing. In a heap of tears and misery I cried out, "Why me, God?" Words cannot adequately describe the anguish and stress involved in taking care of a loved one with Alzheimer’s, but somehow God managed to turn that time into a most extraordinary blessing in disguise.
Throughout my life, what I longed for and wanted most was my dad’s time, attention, affection, and love. And just when I thought I might finally receive it, his mind began withering away. It became painfully obvious to me that the Father I needed, the only one who could be everything I ever wanted, was the One who persistently wooed me out of the dark and painful abyss, and rescued me from being raped, prostituted, killed, or picked up in a gutter from overdosing on drugs or alcohol. At no point did He abandon me, forget about me or stop loving me. Gently and patiently, God called to me, waiting for me to ask Him into my heart and give me a new life. When I finally relinquished, He was there for me saying, “I have always loved you, Jennie, and you can come to me just as you are!”
Dearly loved and cherished woman, God feels the same about you. He will never use you, betray you, or belittle you. He is the One who made you and who gave up His very own life for you. Wherever you are, just as you are, God loves you and desires more than anything in this world to be known by you and share a deep and lasting relationship with you.
The first bit of Scripture I ever memorized was Romans 8:28, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose." I absolutely believe and affirm this truth, and live to be an example of it. No matter what your life circumstances look like now or in the past, God has the power and desire to work them all out for good. It may not always be easy, but He can do it if you ask Him to.
With love and affection,
Jennie Nagy
Co-founder with God
As you are Outreach