The summer that I turned 12 was one of the worst. By then, my dad had returned home for a few months but was still drinking heavily. Our car had been repossessed and we were living in a rented, run-down mobile home in Charlotte, N.C. My parents discovered that my mom was pregnant. Dad was not happy.  On August 3rd, he came home and with slurred, drunken speech, announced that he wasn’t going to have another baby. He stated that he was going to take my mother into the bedroom and kill her. He began beating her and throwing her around the small trailer’s living room. When she was on the floor, he kicked her so forcefully that each kick thrust her body forward on the floor and then into the narrow hallway leading to the bedroom at the end of the hall. Afraid, I ran to my bedroom and grabbed a .410 gauge shotgun, a gift from the previous Christmas since I loved to hunt.  As my dad passed the doorway, I told him to stop. Mom was still crumpled in the floor. Dad was holding her wrists, still kicking her with each step.  I was in the corner of the room with the gun pointed at my dad. He dropped my mother’s wrists and walked toward me. The next thing I remember is seeing smoke roll from the end of the barrel of the gun, blood splatter everywhere, my dad grab his face and then fall forward on my feet.  I ran from the room. In minutes many neighbors, the police, an ambulance and TV crews arrived.

My mom and I were taken to the Juvenile Division of the Mecklenburg County (Charlotte) Police Department. We sat in a room with two detectives for hours telling of past events with my dad and everything that led up to the incident that day. I was then asked to sign a statement saying that I understood that I was being charged with 1^st degree murder. Until that moment I didn’t realize that my dad was dead. That night I was released into my mom’s custody.

A couple of weeks later I returned and was introduced to a man named Rick Hulse. He asked about every detail of the day that dad died. I answered every question. After the meeting I was told that he was the prosecuting attorney and that he had determined that my actions were in self defense. He decided not to try the case in court and would drop the charge against me. It was a huge relief to hear the news, but this was the point where my life began to spiral out of control. Within months I had become an extremely rebellious teen. I began smoking and dabbling into drugs. My friends encouraged all the wrong things and I was headed in a deadly direction.

By the time I was 16, we had moved to Concord, N.C.  The Youth Pastor from a local church began to visit me. He became like a big brother. One day he asked me to come to camp with the church youth group. This event changed my life. On the second night at camp, I responded to an altar call to accept Jesus Christ as my Savior. I felt I had nothing to offer. I was a rebellious, hard-headed 16 year old who had quit school in the 10^th grade. I remember the minister saying that God had a plan for my life - but how could He? I was a mess.

As the week at camp wore on, I felt the call of God very strongly on my life. I told God that I was His and that if He wanted to use me, do it. Through a series of what I know to be God’s amazing hand at work, I finished high school, then applied and was accepted at a Bible College. While I was in college, my youth pastor took a position as pastor at a church in Macon, Georgia. He asked me to come work with him. While there, I learned from him and his wife what a Godly marriage is and how a man should love and treat his bride. 

Jumping forward to now, I know that God has been so faithful to me. He has allowed me to build and manage a network of Christian radio stations throughout the southeast. I have been married to a wonderful, Godly woman for nearly 25 years. We serve in ministry together. We have one child, Kellan. He is a junior at a Christian university.   For the last five years He has allowed me to serve as one of the staff ministers at First Baptist North Spartanburg.

 While I know that God has brought me a long way, I know that I am nothing without Him. I am so blessed and undeserving of the goodness that He has shown me.

Being abused as a child by an uncle (an aunt’s husband) from the time I was 3 until I was 12 left me an emotional wreck. I did not talk unless it was required. I kept to myself. Books were my escape. I ran away from my mother at the age of 17 and came back here to SC to live with my Grandmother and Uncle. Freedom! Or so I thought. I was involved in staying out all night, drinking, sex. No surprise that I became pregnant. Not being married, I gave up my child. I married 6 months after the birth of my baby. I knew my husband would keep me straight. We fought a lot at times. He was not a Christian either. I began doing whatever I pleased…taking trips, coming home whenever I felt like it, etc. Severe depression set in….and I knew I needed something I did not have.

My self gratification had to stop or I was on a complete downward spiral. Linwood Harris invited me to First North. I accepted, mainly just so he would hush. Like him I am a people pleaser also. I accepted Christ into my life a couple of years ago and am a better person for it. I love coming to Church, especially the fellowship and the warmth I feel when I am around other Christians. I am better able to cope with problems. The depression had been taking it’s toll on me. I could not take medicine, because it made me worse…so I was suicidal. I praise God for His gift of unconditional love. He has shown me how to love….not just take.

My mother moved in with my husband and me 4 years ago. She wanted to find a church to go to. We visited several churches, but just weren’t happy with any we had looked at. I remember working with Katrina Lanford at Mary Black. She mentioned a great church on Ashville Hwy. Mom and I visited Fist North. We were overwhelmed after the first visit. Mike’s message was wonderful. The next week we even attended Sunday school. We both loved it. I hadn’t been in church since I was a little girl. There was this Sunday School teacher I had (Wanda Cromer). I was overwhelmed with her spirit for Christ. I would watch her cry talking about God. It touched my heart. I loved her lessons. She taught one Sunday about forgiveness. It made me cry. Mike preached on forgiveness that same day. Again I felt like the Lord was talking directly to me. I was also taken back by the choir. My grandmother was a great choir member along with several other members of my family. I guess I get the music bug honestly. The choir sang “God is Here” that Sunday. I walked down the aisle that very day and rededicated my life to Christ. Several weeks later, Wanda Starnes asked me to take her place in the choir while she went on a missions trip to Thailand. I told mom several times, “I wish I could sing up there with all the people praising the Lord. The music really spoke to me. I especially loved watching Wanda Cromer and Mickey worship. I couldn’t read music, but I said yes anyway. What a blessing.

I worried alot about what people thought of me. I didn’t like talking about my father since he died in prison. I didn’t want people to think badly of me. I thank God now for those life blessings. I forgive my father. He had a disease. He was an alcoholic. I’m confident in myself. I talk openly about my life, especially to those who have an alcohol problem. I now know I’m a child of God. I would always try to settle things myself. I know pray for the Lord to give me direction. I’m more at peace with my life. I know now I don’t have to take on problems by myself. I have the Lord to hold my hand. I’m much more forgiving. I love my Christian family. Wanda Cromer told me one time, “Don’t worry about the churchy words, just talk with God like you were talking to me.” I’ve never forgotten that. I trust God to show me the way. I’m happy. When Wanda Cromer/Mickey Henderson/Mike Hamlet preach “Anyone can do this,” they are right. MY CHAINS ARE GONE - I’ve BEEN SET FREE!!!!!!!!! I was consumed with guilt/fear/trying to fit in. It is humbling to know Jesus died on the cross for my sins. Three days later he rose again. Thank you Jesus.