There's hope
I am Devon Timm. I am nineteen years old and I am a sophomore in college. I plan to attend Liberty University in the fall of 2016 and study TESL (Teaching English as a Second Language). I am a youth leader, an aide, a tour guide and a swim instructor. I have been on more adventures in these past nineteen years than I could have ever wished for. However, I have also been on some adventures that I would have never wished for:
I was born April 21, 1996 into a hopeless, abusive, alcoholic household. I spent the first three years of my life hearing more yelling than loving, but I thought that's what normal household's did. When I was three my mom decided it was time to leave my dad, so we packed up and left. I don't remember much of the next three years of my life except that we were always moving. We were with friends, family, boyfriends, houses with roaches, no insulation and everything in between. That was until my mom met someone who I thought would bring immense joy to my mother's life. The first year he did. But when I was seven it all changed making 2003 the best and worst year of my life. that year I was saved and my beautiful, loving, smart little sister was born. However, I remember Brad's view towards me changing. He hated me. I remember spending nights taking care of my little sister to the point that she called me "mom" until I corrected her numerous times.
For the next five years I ate as my comfort because that's the only thing I knew to do. Many days I thought, "Where was God when I needed Him? I know that I put my trust in Him, but why is this happening?" I didn't understand why an adult could hate a little girl who did nothing but tried to be kind to him. I didn't understand why I had to call the cops more than my friends to hangout. I didn't understand why my mom didn't leave. I just didn't understand. So I left. When I was twelve I moved in with my grandparents, but now instead of feeling joyful I felt guilty. I left my little sister behind. What kind of good sister does that? When I was twelve I started cutting. I didn't know how else to release my pain, so I turned to scissors. It started as a cry for attention that spun out of control. I was a cutter for the next five years. But when freshman year rolled around, cutting wasn't enough.
I fell in love with a boy that fell in love with the idea of using me. He constantly told me that I could be skinnier, and I believed him. So I stopped eating. The next seven months would be marked with me lying about eating and hoping that no one would notice. But they did. I was so broken. I didn't know what to do, or where to turn. "God. I don't understand! Why?! I go to church every week. I worship YOU. I don't get it!" Sophomore year rolls around and I look for love in any guy that would notice me. twelve. That's how many guys I talked to that year. I just wanted to feel love for once in my life and I was crushed when I didn't find it in any of those guys.
That same year two of my friends passed away six months apart; one due to his heart stopping while he slept, the other to his own hands. "God. I am trying to be good enough for You and I keep losing everyone." The next summer I had gone on a missions trip only to come home and find out that my dad was in a coma until a few days before I got home. That next week I stood next to his hospital bed in the ICU with his hand in mine when everything hit zero. "God, I watched my dad die. I don't understand what you're doing." But something hit me after my dad passed away, I am not finding my hope in Him, I am not in full surrender. I am reaching for my hope in everything other than Him, so I started pursuing God, I started searching for His face. I felt like things were finally going to be okay, but six months later I saw my mom's car off the road.
She was getting arrested for a DUI on her way to pick up my little sister. She was one street away from my house. I broke into a million pieces "God, please. I don't want anymore heartache. I don't want the hurt. I want things to just be okay." The next day I get a call from her threatening to hang herself. At that moment I had to put all my faith in the Lord, "If you're going to do it, don't you dare blame me and Leah. We love you, but this would be your own choice." and I handed the phone over with a heavy heart. I didn't understand what He was doing, but I knew I had to trust Him. The next day I get a call that she's okay, but I put up this wall. I didn't care. I became bitter. She met another guy with kids and they became her world, and Leah and I were just a speck.
I soon started coming to Harvest Bible Chapel, and those walls slowly started falling down around me. A year after I was picking up the pieces of my mom's broken heart, and Leah's broken life. I did a lot of questioning, and understanding. That understanding was that I didn't need to understand Him, I just had to trust Him. I had to live my life in full surrender. I decided that no matter what the Lord put me through I was going to be a faithful servant for Him. So I dove in head first. Now I see why God brought me through what He did. Now I see that there is hope.
I was born April 21, 1996 into a hopeless, abusive, alcoholic household. I spent the first three years of my life hearing more yelling than loving, but I thought that's what normal household's did. When I was three my mom decided it was time to leave my dad, so we packed up and left. I don't remember much of the next three years of my life except that we were always moving. We were with friends, family, boyfriends, houses with roaches, no insulation and everything in between. That was until my mom met someone who I thought would bring immense joy to my mother's life. The first year he did. But when I was seven it all changed making 2003 the best and worst year of my life. that year I was saved and my beautiful, loving, smart little sister was born. However, I remember Brad's view towards me changing. He hated me. I remember spending nights taking care of my little sister to the point that she called me "mom" until I corrected her numerous times.
For the next five years I ate as my comfort because that's the only thing I knew to do. Many days I thought, "Where was God when I needed Him? I know that I put my trust in Him, but why is this happening?" I didn't understand why an adult could hate a little girl who did nothing but tried to be kind to him. I didn't understand why I had to call the cops more than my friends to hangout. I didn't understand why my mom didn't leave. I just didn't understand. So I left. When I was twelve I moved in with my grandparents, but now instead of feeling joyful I felt guilty. I left my little sister behind. What kind of good sister does that? When I was twelve I started cutting. I didn't know how else to release my pain, so I turned to scissors. It started as a cry for attention that spun out of control. I was a cutter for the next five years. But when freshman year rolled around, cutting wasn't enough.
I fell in love with a boy that fell in love with the idea of using me. He constantly told me that I could be skinnier, and I believed him. So I stopped eating. The next seven months would be marked with me lying about eating and hoping that no one would notice. But they did. I was so broken. I didn't know what to do, or where to turn. "God. I don't understand! Why?! I go to church every week. I worship YOU. I don't get it!" Sophomore year rolls around and I look for love in any guy that would notice me. twelve. That's how many guys I talked to that year. I just wanted to feel love for once in my life and I was crushed when I didn't find it in any of those guys.
That same year two of my friends passed away six months apart; one due to his heart stopping while he slept, the other to his own hands. "God. I am trying to be good enough for You and I keep losing everyone." The next summer I had gone on a missions trip only to come home and find out that my dad was in a coma until a few days before I got home. That next week I stood next to his hospital bed in the ICU with his hand in mine when everything hit zero. "God, I watched my dad die. I don't understand what you're doing." But something hit me after my dad passed away, I am not finding my hope in Him, I am not in full surrender. I am reaching for my hope in everything other than Him, so I started pursuing God, I started searching for His face. I felt like things were finally going to be okay, but six months later I saw my mom's car off the road.
She was getting arrested for a DUI on her way to pick up my little sister. She was one street away from my house. I broke into a million pieces "God, please. I don't want anymore heartache. I don't want the hurt. I want things to just be okay." The next day I get a call from her threatening to hang herself. At that moment I had to put all my faith in the Lord, "If you're going to do it, don't you dare blame me and Leah. We love you, but this would be your own choice." and I handed the phone over with a heavy heart. I didn't understand what He was doing, but I knew I had to trust Him. The next day I get a call that she's okay, but I put up this wall. I didn't care. I became bitter. She met another guy with kids and they became her world, and Leah and I were just a speck.
I soon started coming to Harvest Bible Chapel, and those walls slowly started falling down around me. A year after I was picking up the pieces of my mom's broken heart, and Leah's broken life. I did a lot of questioning, and understanding. That understanding was that I didn't need to understand Him, I just had to trust Him. I had to live my life in full surrender. I decided that no matter what the Lord put me through I was going to be a faithful servant for Him. So I dove in head first. Now I see why God brought me through what He did. Now I see that there is hope.
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