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That Kind of Cry

It was the kind of cry that makes you fold over on yourself. The cry that you feel coming from the very pit of your stomach.

It hurts.

The kind of cry mixed in with a multitude of cuss words, confusion, anger, hurt.
The child-like cry.  The ugly cry, not the cry that Hollywood actors and actresses look so beautiful doing.

There was me.
There was the curb.

Somewhere between walking around staring at the stars, I ended up sitting on curb sobbing into my own lap.

Last night, at that very same curb I had been in a car with a boy, kissing. I knew he could care less about me.

I stared at the ring on my finger which represented purity and in disgust hurled it at the ground. I cheated, yet again, on the Lover of my soul. Betrayed Him, with a kiss.

“Who the hell am I, God?”

It’s one of the many questions I had managed to get out between the overwhelming, body shaking cries.

I had lost me somewhere.

Over certain events and circumstances, I had knocked myself off this path that was destined for greatness.

And I had no clue how to remove myself from the quicksand I had taken a leap into.

I hated myself.
And it was almost to the point where I hated everyone around me.
I hated church.
I hated the Christianese.
I hated the idea of someone laying their hands on me, as if I had forgotten how to pray for myself.
I hated it all.

“PRAYER WORKS.”

“WALK THE FAITH WALK.”

Phrases coming from people whose life was to what seemed a dream to me.

Now before you get your religious undies in a wad, I know the power of prayer and how important faith is. I am not discrediting that at all.

It just is so much easier to say that and believe when life is going right.

I began to mumble out the song “Rescue”:

I need You Jesus to come to my rescue.
Where else can I go?
There is no other name by which I am saved
Capture me with grace
I will follow you.

It was one of those deep cries out to deep moments.

Oh that He is a God not put off by my sins.

I had allowed sin to creep back into my life. I had allowed the thoughts of other people create this spirit of rejection, which sent me to anyone and everyone to see if they’d accept me.

I had began to morph back into the girl I use to be.

And that just could not happen.

After about 30 minutes of crying and repenting of my stupid sins. I stopped and listened.

The slight swaying of the trees caused by a simple breeze.

Silence.
Peace

The simplicity of shutting up is so beautiful.

“Shh. Rest easy. Rest easy…”

Those words punctured my heart. Oh how I missed the voice of my Daddy. He was there all along, I just didn’t shut up to listen.

I stood up.
Weak in my knees.
Eyes swollen.
Head throbbing.

I didn’t know how to get where I was heading.
But I knew for that moment, I was going to rest easy and listen.

I still am so unsure.

But I know my God, my Daddy, holds me in the palm of His big, safe hands, and that right now, for this moment, I am listening.

It was that kind of cry that got me to shut up, rest easy, and listen.

*live a legitimately imperfect life*

-Judith

Judith: Porn-Addicted, Fornicating, Liar. Loved by God.

I’m Judith, and this is my story:


I was kind of afraid to do this; but I wasn’t going to ‘hide my scars anymore, I wanted to use them as proof that God heals’, and that He certainly healed me.  I honestly believe that is part of the reason I don’t remember a lot from when I was a young kid, because my mother protected me and my brother from it. She was and still is such an amazing mother. She gives and gives and gives. I owe a lot to her. She is incredible.

My dad was emotionally abusive, calling me horrible names, and justifying it with “You made me mad!” My brother tried hard to show me love in a “dad way”, but he was “bubba“, not “daddy“. So as a result, I began looking for it in guys, but never taking it “too far”, and doing a great job of hiding it. Then I began going to a church, full of people I loved and who loved me. I became the Bible club leader at my school, and things were great! I “loved” God, and everyone respected me.

Life was good, at least the side I showed everyone was.

I started my first day of high school at a brand new school, away from my dad, and away from my old life. I quickly got the reputation of “Jesus girl”, which I loved because no one knew I was in an intense, sexually driven relationship with someone in their 20s and I was 15. Although, physically I was a virgin; emotionally, and even mentally I was the furthest thing from a virgin. I was introduced to to porn when I was 13, and was immediately hooked to it. I craved it. It quickly became all that I thought about. So I was a porn-addicted, “sext“ually active girl, with a “Jesus girl” front.

Fool-proof plan; then my secrets caught up with me.

I was tired of church, because it was never real in the first place. I decided one night to skip out on “church event” and head to a bar to see a reggae band. BAD IDEA! Right? I knew it, and didn’t give a crap. I was drinking and smoking; partying. A guy started talking me up and told me to follow him, and I did, We ended up in his truck, and he told me that we should hook up. I remember saying, “But, I’m a virgin!”, and then my “purity ring” being tied to my jacket, and him saying “Not after tonight.” I laughed and nodded in agreement, and I don’t remember anything until we were driving back to this bar, and he was yelling for me to put back on my clothes. I got out of his truck, he yelled “slut“, and was in excruciating pain and in total disgust of not only him, but me. Well, word traveled fast, and that following Monday, the talk was how “Jesus girl” hooked up.

People applauded me.

People called me whore.

It sucked.

I became more depressed than I had ever been in my life.

Word got to my church, and they added even more drama to the problem, so then my apathetic nature rose even more. My desire to be loved my a male intensified. I began do anything to get the attention of guy. Sleeping with him, and then with him, and then him. I went from boasting about a purity ring, to sleeping with anyone who batted an eye at me, til the point where I could no longer count on one hand who I had been with. I gave a finger to the church, and I don’t give a crap attitude to God, and my life spiraled out of control. You name it; pregnancy scares, STD scares, almost over-dosing, near alcohol poisoning… It was terrifying.

Then after running and running…

…God found me.

It wasn’t at a church altar service.

It was in a bedroom at my mom and step dad’s house. I picked up an old devotional and then the real, sweet presence of God swept in that room. I began weeping, saying “God, I’m so sorry” over and over again. I was still pissed at the church, so it took a lot for me to find a church and stick with it. So since I wasn’t at a church and no accountability, I took a few jumps into sin. I moved back to where I had grown up and meet these two girls who would NOT shut up about their church. So, finally just to get them to stop bugging me, I went.

I met the real Jesus and fell madly in love.

God gave me the man I call my spiritual father. He gave me the people I see as family. He gave me a SECOND CHANCE. I didn’t deserve it. But He loves me enough not to give me what I deserve. He became my Daddy, and He always looks out for me, even when I didn’t see Him.

Does porn still scream in my face? Almost everyday.

But Daddy protects and always shows a way out.

Do I take the exit? Sometimes I don’t.

But He still picks me up when I fall.

Do I still get lonely? Yes, then He rescues me from that…when I let Him, sometimes I won’t let Him.

A week and a half ago, I stopped shouting “I’Mperfect” and started letting God work on the real, “IMperfect me.”

So I guess, I’ll end with this; God’s grace picked me up when “I” threw myself down. He still picks me up. Everyday.

Can He love someone who is a…

porn-addicted,

fornicating,

lying,

deceiving,

needy,

lost girl?

Yes, and I know, because that girl was me.

–Judith

**Check out XXXChurch for more resources and encouragement in your own personal purity battle.

GOD LOVES TEENAGERS!

2Legit 2Quit! (IMperfect v.s I’Mperfect)

If you listened to The ATTIC: Teen Talk Radio last night, you know that Judith and Michael have been working on this blog entry for us. These two amaze me…awesome stories of grace, of a second chance. God is teaching them both DEEP things about His character and His plans for their lives. I’m honored that they would co-author this blog for us today. If you’re a teenager, a youth pastor, or a parent and are interested in submitting a “guest blog” for us one day, PLEASE send your idea to theattictalkradio@gmail.com –Steve

Judith (whose thoughts are in the black font) asked Michael (whose thoughts are in the blue font) to put some input, just so you could get two different stories, both standing by the same point: legitimacy.

Michael, Cassie, and I spent a weekend in a little town in central Alabama with our spiritual father and his family. We also had the privelage of hanging out with Steve and Lindsey Austin. I think I speak for all of us when I say it was life-changing. We not only got closer to God, but realized how to live with an “IMperfect mindset”, not longer an “I’Mperfect” mindset. We learned how to be real, and that set us free.

So get ready, things are about to get real.

“I am great!”, “Too blessed to be stressed!”, “Not struggling, not me!”, we’ve ALL said it.

We have all claimed that our lives are the definition of perfection, and that we are above struggling. I know I’ve thought “I’ve got this in the bag”, that struggles were just for sinners and “back-sliders”. I would walk around with my head high and pity people in sin, calling it compassion. It was all a fun ride; things working out to my advantage, people commenting on how “great”, (then you read something like Matthew 23:28, and it really messes you up) I was. Then I came to a screeching halt, disgusted with the realization of the lie I had created.

I had been living a complete lie, striving to be perfect while driving my own life and walk with Christ into the ground.

Why is it so hard to be real?

Why is wrong to be weak?

Why is it bad to ask questions?

We all have questions. We all want answers, and we want them to be real. I can’t tell you how many times I would long for someone who I was pouring into to break down and be honest about how they were REALLY feeling, but I couldn’t even be real myself. When was the last time you walked up to someone and just threw up all that you were feeling? When was the last time you let someone into the area of your life that you were even afraid to face yourself? All tough questions, trust me, I totally know what you’re thinking. “But if you knew the things that I struggle with..”, or “No, but this is bad stuff..”. The enemy wants us to think that we are the only ones facing these particular struggles and temptations. He wants us to become so focused on hiding the sin, til eventually we don’t see it as sin anymore.

Last weekend was huge for me. Sitting in a living room with three close friends, Michael brought up Nehemiah and how he wasn’t afraid to be real, and how the walls of Jerusalem were rebuilt. Then IT happened. The presence of God swept in that room, we began being real, and chains began breaking.

(Steve and “Silent Judy”)

…So there I was, gossiping like a little girl with three of my friends about changes going on in my church that I didn’t like and the sins and shortcomings of other youth leaders, when IT happened. The voices of my three friends faded into the back of my mind and took on the sound of an adult speaking on Charlie Brown, and I heard HIM. God asked me the question He’d been asking me for a month now. “Michael, what do you want to be?” I thought long and hard, dreaming of being an amazing musician and talented speaker, but once the “performance” was over, I felt… Empty… I now knew my answer. “God, more than anything, I want to be… REAL.”

Now, what happened next TOTALLY proved that this was a GOD moment. I did not grow up in church, so I have little to absolutely no Bible knowledge. Have you ever been in a service where the pastor says, “Now, we all know the story in the Bible of *insert random name and/or Bible story here*…” Well, I’m the one saying, “NO WE DON’T! WHAT’S THAT?!” — Back to the story. —> God reminds me of someone in the Bible who rebuilt some wall to some city… And this dude’s name started with an “N”. The fact that I found Nehemiah without the help of Google is just more confirmation to the fact that this was GOD. The walls of Jerusalem had been destroyed and Nehemiah was devastated. He wanted to rebuild the walls. I could relate. My youth group had once been something great, and I watched it slowly fade and come to destruction. I just wanted to rebuild it. Read Nehemiah 1:5-11 to see the legitimate prayer this guy prayed:

Nehemiah did not complain about how it was all the other people of Israel’s fault that this tragedy had occurred. He first and foremost examined himself and said, “Hey, MAYBE this could SLIGHTLY be MY fault too…” He broke down his pride and confessed his sins against GOD. He could have put on his “I’m a perfect, God-loving person” mask that we love to wear so often, but instead, he got real.

Next, Nehemiah get’s all of Jerusalem to rebuild the wall. Instead of having everyone work on one section of the wall at a time, which would have taken FOREVER, he had them all work on the wall in front of THEIR OWN house. Only after they were complete with the wall in front of their own house, did they help their neighbor. In doing this, they had to trust their neighbor to do their part. The same exact thing is what must be done in our Christian walk: we need to stop worrying about what others are doing and first build our part of the wall. We need to first remove the plank from our eye before we can remove the speck from others’ eyes. (Matthew 7:5) I challenge you today to stop with the gossiping and backbiting, examine yourself and confess your struggles and sins with others, and build your wall.

People want to know they aren’t they only ones struggling, that they aren’t alone. So my prayer for you is that you will be weak, because when we are weak, He is made strong.(2 Corinthians 13:9).

Don’t shout not “I’M perfect”, but that you are “IMperfect”, and watch as God breaks not only the chains around you, but the chains on you.
–Judith (aka “Silent Judy: The Rock”) and Michael

GOD LOVES TEENAGERS!

About the authors:
Michael Hamel was born in 1991 in Rome, New York. Growing up, he always called himself a Christian, but never actually understood what that meant. In the 8th grade, he got his first girlfriend, and things began to spiral downward. After a devastating break up, Michael was faced with depression and thoughts of suicide. His brother, Tommy Hamel, had been inviting Michael to church, and just to get out of the house, Michael said “yes” one day. From there, Michael got saved, filled with the Holy Spirit, and began writing music for his new-found Savior. Things took a nasty turn soon afterwards, however, when drama was started among the youth and Michael and his brother left the church with much hurt. Michael then went back to what he was familiar with: girls. He swore to himself that things would be different this time, though. And they were… He moved much faster physically with this one, and soon was stuck in a hypocritical lifestyle with a “You don’t need to go to church to be a Christian” attitude. Two years into this relationship, he went to a church his friend had invited him to and immediately was in the presence of God again. He had once again found what he had been missing. Soon after, he decided that he was sick of straddling the fence and wanted to live fully in sin or fully for God. Michael picked the latter, laying down all his desires, including the relationship he was in, and now lives in a deep relationship with the one true loving God: Jesus.

Judith Paden- I’m 18 years old trying my best to live for Jesus with all of my guts. I am extremely weird, and I am okay with that. I face the same struggles, temptations, and hardships we all face; do I fall? Definitely. Does Christ pick me up? Always. I long to live a life of such selflessness. Without Jesus in my life, I’m addicted, broken, lost, alone, needy, angry, and weak. On the other hand, with my Jesus in my life, I’m free, whole, in fellowship, satisfied, at peace, and strengthened by Him. My “life means nothing without Christ at the crown”. I, like you, wanna love Jesus and wanna love people, the real way. I want to live a life that is legitimate, not perfect.