Born Rebel, Renewed Warrior: A Story of Redemption

By Tabitha Dorcas

Have you ever been left in the desert to fight life by yourself, wondering how someone you love could betray you? Did you grow up in a dysfunctional family with abuse of any kind but knew you were destined to do great things? Do you have low self-esteem, were you critical of yourself, or did you think that God is just out to punish you? In this book, real-life experience and circumstances brought me to a place that shook me to the core, tore down all I believed as true, and forced me to rise like a phoenix from the ashes or burn in all the many mistakes. How did I survive extreme abuse of every kind? How did I go from drug addict to college graduate? Do you want to go from a born rebel to a renewed warrior? Read on . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Dec 3, 2018
• ISBN: 9781973627142

Tabitha Dorcas

Tabitha Dorcas is a writer, artist, and advocate for those who feel lost and in need of spiritual guidance and healing. She has created a voice for people who have been in similar difficult circumstances as herself, and strives to bring hope and peace to those that are struggling. Her relationship with Christ transformed her stony heart and reshaped it to one of love, faith, and determination. She talks from personal experience, and her heart is devoted to bringing glory to God in all she does.  Tabitha holds a Bachelor of Science in Business Studies with a Concentration in Information Technology degree from South New Hampshire University. Besides working hard in her studies, career, and spiritual life, Tabitha enjoys spending time with her family and friends, volunteering, and participating in mission trips through her church.

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Copyright © 2018 Tabitha Dorcas.

Interior Graphics/Art Credit: Braley Reed

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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All Scripture quotations are taken from THE MESSAGE, copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress. All rights reserved. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

ISBN: 978-1-9736-2715-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-2716-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9736-2714-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018905278

WestBow Press rev. date: 11/5/2018

Contents

Acknowledgments

Introduction

Chapter 1 Life Isn’t Fair

Chapter 2 Horrible Choices

Chapter 3 Trouble in Paradise

Chapter 4 History Repeats Itself

Chapter 5 This Isn’t the Beginning

Chapter 6 Fear-Filled Head

Chapter 7 The Rabbit Hole Gets Deeper

Chapter 8 Phase Two in our Destruction

Chapter 9 A Spiritual Journey for Fools

Chapter 10 Happy Birthday to Me

Chapter 11 God’s Plan

Chapter 12 Does the Past Refine or Define You?

Chapter 13 God Will Bring You through Every Time

Chapter 14 How Much Has God Forgiven You?

Chapter 15 Don’t Go Back to Egypt

About the Author

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank the Holy Trinity—Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit—for saving my life, because without my Savior I would be nothing. I would like to thank my loving, supportive, and God-sent husband for his patience, endurance, and encouragement as I wrote this book. He never doubted me and always pushed me to keep going, even when I didn’t want to face things from my past. I can’t leave out my daughters, who (unknowingly to them) helped save my life and keep me surviving because of the love I had for them that I didn’t even have for myself. I would like to thank my parents and sisters for praying continuously for me when I was in the desert, never losing hope that I would find my way back to Christ. Finally, I would like to thank my editor, Linda Germain, who kept inspiring me through this whole project and taught me how to trust myself at becoming an author.

Introduction

God is love. There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life—fear of death, fear of judgment—is one not yet fully formed in love. —The Message

As I stood shivering in the Great Basin Desert on the Native American reservation, the humiliation and fear of what had just happened still echoed in my ears.

Must be a pathetic person who would allow herself to be so brainwashed by a man that he is able to forcibly kidnap their daughter and strip her of her identity.

As if my self-esteem wasn’t low enough, stripped from me like a piece of garment easily torn and tattered, stealing our daughter would make the insecurity unbearable. The blame and fear that swept across my life that day—of all times, on my birthday—were like meeting pure evil in the form of a human. But isn’t life spiritual warfare, evil and good entangled in human form?

The saddest part of it all was that this was my husband, who had sworn to protect me, serve me, and defend me. How had I gone from being someone’s soul mate to being his worst enemy? My image in the mirror was quite different from what I was experiencing on the inside. Turmoil doesn’t even begin to describe the shocking situation. My life was unstable, desperate, and gut wrenching. The constant parade of irresponsible people and small-minded, narcissistic, controlling womanizers stunned and horror-struck me. And then there were the weak, intimidated people who couldn’t stand my strength, so they did everything to sabotage my success.

At an early age, I’d felt like I was different, but I never could have imagined that because I was different, people wouldn’t like me. It’s truly the most desperate of situations when you place your complete trust in humans only to be abandoned, rejected, and stranded in the desert, wondering how you will ever see your daughter again.

Over the years, people have stolen so much from me. They have taken my dignity, my will, my spirit, and my voice—but I won’t allow that to happen any longer.

Do you know how it feels to wash your hair under a frozen faucet? The water is so cold that it freezes your head from the outside in. Have you ever been homeless? Have you ever been held down against your will and almost raped at the early age of thirteen by a friend’s brother? Have you ever been drugged and then awoke with some strange man on top of you, who just raped you? Have you ever had to make the decision to kill another living soul by having an abortion? Have you ever been betrayed by the one person you never thought would turn on you? Have you grown up thinking you were cursed because so many terrible things have happened to you? Have you ever hit rock bottom? Have you ever felt like those you loved deeply had ripped your heart out of your chest?

It’s so hard to make myself vulnerable and transparent as I bleed out my raw and tender heart on these sheets of paper so the world can judge me. Perhaps you have felt judged by the world at times and never felt quite good enough. Maybe you grew up in a home where your mom loved you and didn’t see you as a burden, or your dad loved his family too much to hurt them by committing adultery. Not in my house—that wasn’t my upbringing.

I was always seen as an object to be owned and manipulated, a voice to be controlled at all costs. We were just kids who weren’t allowed to be unique or have any opinions, because such actions were considered disrespectful.

Of course, not feeling loved while growing up and feeling abandoned, like a total waste of space, don’t help you make wise decisions later on in adulthood. It’s hard to expect anyone reading this to truly grasp just how desperate I was for real love and to understand the lengths I went to for people’s approval and attention.

That endless, unquenchable desire to be accepted drove me to the desert, chasing a man who would shatter my heart, force himself on me, kidnap our child, abandon me there, and replace me like I was yesterday’s trash. It may sound like something out of a horror story, but it really happened to me. The loneliness, betrayal, and rejection were so extreme that I didn’t think I could bear them on my own. I would escape but not without permanent repercussions from the abuse I had endured. Now freedom is what I have—freedom to use my voice, to make decisions, and to control my life. Freedom to be fully me without some voice taunting me and breaking me down so I don’t succeed. Freedom to fight back and freedom to win.

Why am I going down memory lane and being transparent and raw with you, even though you’re a stranger? It’s because I have been there. I have been in your shoes—maybe not exactly step-by-step but in a similar way. One person or another has controlled my whole life. I have been told that my dreams and voice don’t matter. Naysayers and haters have held me down, but today I stand victoriously as I write my story. I’m tired of trying to prove my worth to a world of unworthy people.

One thing is certain. You too are a warrior.

One thing is certain. The same love that saved me can save you.

One thing is certain. Jesus loves you unconditionally.

One thing is certain. You too can take control of your life.

One thing is certain. A heroic journey starts with one step in the right direction.

So, start stepping …

Chapter 1

Life Isn’t Fair

R emember back to a time when your family members made you feel safe, secure, loved, and adored. Remember when you were innocent and life was meant to be lived with excitement and positivity. Now, do you remember the first time you realized life isn’t fair? Do you recall how your parents responded to that fact? Well, for me, much to my delight, when I realized life wasn’t fair, my parents announced they were getting a divorce. For years I honestly had thought their splitting up would be much better than hearing the constant fighting, plate throwing, and glass smashing.

We lived in a small, growing city in Florida for the first ten years of my life before the news came that my parents were finally calling it quits. The first nine years of my life remind me of the song Family Portrait by Pink, since the lyrics spell out what families are really like behind the scenes. Is that not how most of society is right now, with fake masks and clever, average-looking family covers? What is normal anyway? Is it what the government, the media, our parents, our neighbors, and our friends have crammed down our throats our whole lives? Is normal about treating strangers in a charming way despite the wickedness and abuse you might be handing out to those closest to you behind closed doors?

One of the rare memories I have of spending time with my father is fishing at a quaint, little pond near our house; we would bring the often-very-small fish back to eat for supper. He wasn’t around much when we were growing up. Our mother stayed at home with us until we could go to school, and she did the daily chores of running a household and managing the yard. She devoted her whole career and life to her kids, so most of the time after my parents had split, we struggled financially. It was God’s grace that provided her with a two-year work program that would provide the certification and schooling needed to be a surgical nurse. It was still hard being a single mother with three mouths to feed and children depending on her for everything. We needed clothes and shoes every few months but didn’t always have the money to buy new stuff. We welcomed the hand-me-downs we were given, and this event occurred often for our struggling family.

On several occasions I saw my mom crying out of sheer frustration because of not receiving child support right before Christmas, even though my dad denies ever missing a payment. She was already such an emotionally damaged individual because an uncle had molested her and because her family had ignored her pleas for help. Then they turned the event against her as a false accusation. I can’t imagine how she felt when her father, mother, and sisters failed to protect her. My dad further rejected her when he cheated on her (the second time) for seven years with my now stepmom, who has two children of her own. All those nights when he was supposedly at work, he was helping someone else move up in her career while my mom put her career on hold for her family.

It doesn’t seem fair, does it? Believe me, I can understand the bitterness that goes along with that level of betrayal, hurt, and abandonment. I took my dad’s affair personally, not to mention that I had my mom constantly in my ear, reminding me that she’d stayed when my dad hadn’t. She made us feel like a burden most of the time (unknowingly to her) like we should be eternally grateful for her sacrifices. We weren’t allowed to have emotions or really mourn the loss of our family. We never heard that it wasn’t our fault that our dad left and made the choices he did. I don’t necessarily remember my mom saying it was our fault he’d cheated, but nevertheless, that was how it felt because he had abandoned us. In our minds, it was a personal rejection, even if he made us believe he just couldn’t live with our mother because she was a psycho or crazy person. On the other hand, she would bash my father so badly that we thought he was a monster of a man.

If you ask her now, the version is that we were the ones who feared him because of his actions and that her behavior had nothing to do with our viewpoint. According to her, their nasty exchanges as they constantly bashed one another didn’t brainwash us. Our side of the story is that we were considered traitors if we didn’t pick sides; and believe me, you didn’t want to be on my mother’s bad side. My dad, still to this day, brings up that we had hurt him by talking ugly to him on the phone or by not visiting him after they split. He fails to realize that we were kids—children who needed to be protected and forgiven for our actions, which were based on hurt. We said and did a lot of things due to being disappointed and rejected; these allowed my dad to justify keeping his distance from us. His version is that if he had known we were being abused, he would have fought harder, but he’d given up. He got tired of fighting a useless cause because my mother had turned us against him.

I’m sure he really felt that way, and I’m sure my mom had her justifications too. But the bottom line is this: we were kids. We weren’t acting selfishly or vindictively. We were acting like children who had their whole family ripped apart but couldn’t express their dissatisfaction with the hands they’d been dealt. We weren’t given the tools necessary to cope with things in a healthy manner, and like a nasty toxin, the hurt seeped into our teenage and adult years. We turned to external factors to help us feel like we had some control over our lives.

I often wonder whether everyone has memories like these. When negative mind-sets form, characteristics are then created. As a result, because of their dysfunction, adults can produce emotionally and mentally sick children. How different would my life have been if my parents had been healthy, whole adults? What would my life have been like with unselfish parents? How different would I be? That is the golden question, isn’t it? But really the golden question is, What does God want to teach us about our lives and the hand He has dealt us? How can we help others with our experiences? Wishing we had different parents or life circumstances doesn’t change anything, but it does keep us stuck in the what-if mentality. That kind of thinking keeps us chasing our tails, being distracted, and missing the true reason of what God is doing through the storms in our lives.

Much of my personality is expressed as a critical hard worker who tolerates little room for error and strives for perfection. Sometimes I can be loud, forceful, dominating, and aggressive when I’m passionate about something or when I’m trying to prove someone wrong. Growing up around abuse tends to generate this kind of mentality. To protect ourselves, we must stay emotionally detached and grow tough skin to survive. Some calluses form over our hearts so we are numb and don’t feel anything we are going through. Even though we were just helpless children, parents who were selfish and ignorant about how to raise kids forced us to grow up too fast. Children don’t come with instruction books, but I’m pretty sure the one God would give us wouldn’t say to push your children to the brink of insanity with your OCD and perfectionism. I don’t think the instruction book would tell fathers to pick sports over their children and make their children feel like they are second fiddle to everything else, not loving them for who they are or accepting them as respectful men and women.

We are given one instruction book. That is the Bible, but neither of my parents seemed interested in reading it at the time since they were both victims of their circumstances. We can be victims or warriors, but we can’t be both. The Bible is filled with people who had every reason to have a victim mentality, but instead they chose to be warriors, trusting God to redeem, vindicate, and transform them.

A mother who suffered from an untreated anxiety disorder, which for years was simply passed off as irrational behavior, of course, scorned my father. When she received help, large crowds of people and the mountainous tasks that piled up ahead of her finally quit overwhelming her. I can relate since now I also get overwhelmed with anxiety when the demands of life pile up without any end in sight. I’ve always been high strung, but dealing with anxiety is something totally different. At the time, I didn’t understand why we would catch my grandmother saying horrible things about us as we played hide-and-seek under the bed, but now I understand her more clearly. Anxiety can be a fearless beast that pounds at the door of your mind until you’re exhausted and overcome because you’re simultaneously fighting the million thoughts you can’t control. People with their minds set on you, you keep completely whole, Steady on their feet, because they keep at it and don’t quit (Isa. 26:3 MSG).

My mom was hung up on her physical beauty, which she used to engage in the wrong kinds of relationships out of a desperate need to feel desirable and wanted. She married a cousin by marriage