Personal Stories

I’m thirty-four years old and was involved in full-time ministry for thirteen years. For seven years, my husband and I pastored a local urban church in Chicago. We conducted Bible studies, seminars, teachings, trainings and outreaches. We saw people saved, water baptized, filled with the Holy Spirit and went through discipleship courses. However, we saw very little lasting fruit.

I had always wondered what freedom looked like, so I tried searching for it in many places but could never find it.

My children were raised in a Christian home and saved at a young age. A couple of years ago my 20-year-old daughter left home, stopped communicating with our family, and ventured into drugs, cults, and other inappropriate behaviors. She was also suffering from anxiety and panic attacks. It was devastating to see her like that because if you knew her, she was the sweetest, most beautiful daughter anyone could ask for.

Growing up, I just wanted to be a good person who did the right things and avoided doing bad things. I got married and had 2 sons. But my husband and I had frequent fights, leading me to contemplate divorce many times. The future seemed bleak as I struggled with fear and anxiety, not knowing how I would be able to pay off the home debts or how I could afford for my kids to go to university. As a result, I struggled with a very bad temper, stress, and depressive thoughts.

About 18 months ago, I lost my boyfriend in an accident. When I got the news he passed away, I had a nervous breakdown. I felt like I couldn’t breathe and move anything in my body. When I reached home, I went straight to bed to read my Bible but while reading, I threw it across the room yelling, “How can God let my boyfriend die?” From that point on, I stopped believing in God even though I grew up in a Christian home and knew all about the miracles of God.

I was raised in a family where from a young age, we were told that when we sin, we would suffer retribution. Our family was not at peace and my parents would quarrel almost every week. The fights would often escalate and involve threats of violence from both parties. As a child, I was traumatised.

I’d battled depression on and off over the years, but 2020 was the darkest time I’ve ever had. I felt like I was drowning in a ferocious storm as wave after wave tossed me around. On top of the effects of the COVID-19 pandemic and being separated from the people I love, I was getting hit by one negative situation after another. Eventually, I felt my heart completely shatter.

At the lowest point of my life—struggling to get into university, depressed and beating myself up—I cried out to God.