Testimony
Where It Began
I came to know the Lord at a young age, growing up in a Christian home in California. From the beginning, I believed God was real, that He was good, and that His hand was on my life. At ten years old, I had my first real encounter with His love and could not stop crying at the realization of how deeply I was loved.
But even in a Christian home, there was dysfunction and instability. I learned early how to survive by becoming a peacemaker—reading the room, staying quiet, and not rocking the boat. Somewhere along the way, a belief took root: if I can keep everyone happy, I’ll be safe… if I perform well enough, I’ll be loved.
Gymnastics became the place I could breathe. It gave me discipline and purpose—but it also trained me into perfectionism. Straight A’s. Perfect 10’s. Slowly, my worth became tied to performance. It wasn’t just I did well—it became I am worthy because I did well.
Then everything stopped.
My senior year of high school, I shattered my jaw in a competition. I couldn’t talk, train, or do anything but rest. Looking back, I see how God sometimes makes us lie down, not to punish us, but to rescue us. During that season, I began reading Scripture deeply, and God started building something in me that didn’t depend on achievement. That’s where I learned surrender isn’t giving up, it’s trusting the Father instead of ourselves.
When Everything Broke
God led me to the University of Alabama, where I experienced both success and struggle. There were championships and high scores, but also injuries and setbacks. Those struggles kept drawing me back to God’s Word. He was building a foundation in me that could hold the weight of my life.
But when gymnastics ended, I didn’t realize how much of my identity had been tied to it until it was gone. I began searching for something else to make me feel chosen, secure, and valuable.
That next place was marriage.
I married my high school sweetheart the day after he graduated from Air Force pilot training. I thought it would be one of the happiest seasons of my life but even early on, something felt off. I was disappointed and unfulfilled in ways I couldn’t explain. In that space I sought validation outside my marriage. I repented, returned to Jesus, and chose to walk forward in honesty and integrity.
But inside the marriage, I lived under shame, fear, and control. I tried to be a godly wife, to keep peace, to do everything right but the cycles of manipulation, verbal abuse, and fear continued. Over time, I began to believe everything was my fault. That if I tried harder, stayed quieter, or prayed more, things would change.
That taught me how to survive, but not how to be free.
After 17 years of military life, countless moves, deployments, rebuilding community and raising three children, the weight of everything caught up to me.
In 2016, I hit rock bottom.
I was brought to the ER after almost committing suicide, lying on a gurney in a hallway with nowhere to hide. It was the lowest point of my life. But sometimes it’s at the bottom that you discover God is the Rock at the bottom.
That season changed everything.
The Turning Point
Through treatment and counseling, I began addressing both the physical and spiritual realities of what I was facing. I realized I had built my life on external validation—achievement, relationships, appearance, approval. I had been striving to earn worth that Jesus had already given me.
The healing process was not instant. It was a long journey from head knowledge to heart transformation. God began replacing the lies I believed with truth:
My worth is not based on what I do.
My worth is based on who God is and what Jesus has done.
I am His daughter. Loved, chosen, and secure—not because I perform, but because I belong to Him.
That season also taught me humility in receiving help. Through doctors, counseling, and even medication, God provided stability and healing. My faith didn’t replace those things—it filtered them. I learned to trust Him in both the spiritual and practical ways He was restoring me.
From that place, God began doing something deeper—He began setting me free.
For the first time, I started recognizing patterns I had lived in for years: silence, fear, people-pleasing, and confusion around what biblical love looked like. I began to understand boundaries.
I had always believed boundaries were selfish. But God showed me they are not just a good idea, they are His idea. Saying no is not unkind. Standing in truth is not unchristian.
Every time I chose truth over fear, I stepped further into freedom.
Freedom & Restoration
In 2023, I made the scariest decision of my life: I separated from my husband. It took time to even admit the reality of abuse. But it was no longer safe to stay.
Even then, I still hoped for restoration. After years of counseling and attempts to reconcile, the months of separation were some of the most heartbreaking of my life—because I still loved, still hoped, and still believed God could restore what was broken.
But I could not change another person’s heart.
In 2024, I made the hardest decision of my life: I filed for divorce.
For so long, divorce felt like failure. I pictured myself coming to Jesus in a torn, dirty wedding dress, apologizing for not being enough. But instead of condemnation, I saw Him with open arms.
He wasn’t rejecting me.
He was rescuing me.
God began teaching me that peace doesn’t come from controlling outcomes. It comes from staying close to Him. And I learned something unexpected:
Deliverance doesn’t always come the way you expect.
Sometimes it comes through closed doors, unanswered prayers, and relationships that don’t get restored.
In the end, the changed heart was mine.
This season didn’t just expose the brokenness of my marriage, it exposed patterns in my life I had normalized for years. My need for approval. My fear of conflict. My tendency to shrink to keep peace.
God has used this to break generational cycles.
What once felt familiar—even when it was unhealthy—is no longer acceptable. I see now how deeply I had tied my worth to others’ opinions, and how much I had tolerated in the name of love.
But Jesus never called us to live in bondage. He called us to be free.
I am learning that strength is not just enduring, it is also knowing when to walk away. It is choosing peace over chaos, truth over fear, and identity over approval.
God is refining me.
He is burning away false identities, fear of man, and people-pleasing. He is strengthening my faith, sharpening my discernment, and teaching me to walk in truth with boldness.
This freedom is not just for me, it is for the generations after me.
Walking Forward in Strength
My children will not grow up believing love means walking on eggshells.
What the enemy meant to use to break me, God is using to build something unshakable.
Our God is a God of restoration.
He takes what was meant to silence us and turns it into testimony.
He takes what was meant to break us and uses it to build us.
So this is my testimony:
I have known depression, shame, fear, and heartbreak.
But I have also known the nearness of God in the darkest places.
I am still here.
Still standing.
Still held.
Still becoming.
And if you are struggling—whether with mental health, abuse, loss, or the collapse of everything you thought your life would be—you are not alone.
There is hope.
There is help.
And there is a God who sees you, fights for you, and restores what feels impossible to rebuild.
The more broken I have been, the more His light has shone through.
This is my story of how God has been, is, and will forever be my Restorer.
“And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.” — 1 Peter 5:10