Last night I was in my room praying, and during which, I reflected over the past year. For those of you who don't know, I have dealt with the addiction of cutting for three years. Today, however, December 8th, 2005 marks my one year point of giving up cutting to God. I have not cut in one year exactly, and I give all the glory to God for it. Never would I have been able to make it this far on my own will. Last night, as I thanked God over and over again for helping me get this far, I realized that a year ago, on that night (December 7), I had cut myself for the very last time. That night, I didn't know I would never cut again. It was a long process getting to where I am, but as I look back and remember how I got to this point, I am amazed at how God was in control of EVERY part of it. Let me take you back, if you have the time:
I'm pretty sure it all started when I started cutting, obviously marking the beginning of my journey to where I am today. Not long after I had started cutting, during prayer, I heard a voice inside my head, and the exact words were "Chrissy, don't hurt yourself, only I can heal you." I knew at that point that only God was able to heal me from anything, and cutting myself would never help me. If only I had listened to that voice, I could have saved myself a lot of pain and suffering. Instead, I walked away from God, not completely, because I still loved and believed in Him, but I failed to trust Him completely. So began the addiction.
Never did I walk away from God in the sense that I stopped believing in Him. I prayed every night, desperate for forgiveness, but still only trusting in myself and any sharp object, not trusting God enough. A few years passed, but what brought me to the point of quitting for good? Let me move back to about a year ago.
I think thing started with my trip to Montreal. I originally wanted to go to Australia for a six-month missions trip but God knew better and I wasn't accepted into the program. Then I considered a 10-day trip to Bolivia, but that failed to happen as well. Finally, as I was adament about doing missions, I felt called to go to Montreal. Then the problem arose; who would I go with? I asked so many of my friends but they had other things that week. So I ended up having to hook up with a church in Grimsby, but then I had to figure out how to get to the church on the Saturday of departure. Chris and Kari said they would take me so it seemed all set, until they found out they had prior arrangement so I was stuck. We brought it to the congregation and the next thing I knew, Brad and Michelle Peters offered to drive me. So bright and early on a Saturday morning, Michelle picked me up and drove me to the church in Grimsby. God planned it this way completely. I immediately felt a bond with Michelle, which was odd for me, who had trust issues. I knew something was weird when the whole week in Montreal, the person I missed the most was Michelle, the person I barely knew. What was that all about? God obviously. Meanwhile, Michelle knew I was a cutter the second she met me; how did she know? She doesn't know; she says she just "knew." I think that was God too. She picked me up at the end of the week and as she drove me home, she watched as the energy drained from me, dreading going home. She tells me how she cried and cried as she drove home and told Brad that she had to come back and get me and take me home; she couldn't leave me there.
As Michelle and I got closer, God began to tug on their hearts, leading them to have me move in with them. I was clueless the whole time but on my end, things were getting worse. Home life was falling apart and at just the right time, Brad and Michelle asked me to move in with them. After careful consideration and prayer, I felt led to go with them and so I moved in, scared, but excited.
As I became a part of their family, I learned a lot about life and God and soon, December 8, 2004 came when Michelle told me that if I really wanted to stop cutting, I could only do it if I gave it over to God completely. It was then that I realized that I had not trusted God to take care of me and so I prayed long and hard and asked God to take the cutting from me forever. A month later, I took my razor blade down to the beach with my best friend and threw it in the lake, symbolizing giving it over to God. I immediately felt a weight lifted from my shoulders and since then, I have not cut. I am free. It has been a year today and I owe it all to God. He has used my experiences though. At camp, I was able to share my story with two girls who had trouble with bottling their emotions. I believe I helped them in some way. I have also been placed as leader to a youth group where I'm already suspecting three girls as cutters. My friend Kristie just told me that maybe I was put there for a purpose, because everything has a purpose. She's right, God will continue to use my experiences, no matter how bad they were, to help people.
Praise be to God for a year of freedom and a closer relationship with my Father. I would never have gotten to this point without His love and support and all the special people He has placed in my life along the way.
Here's to another year.
CHRISSY