I'm Still Standing: How God Turned My Pain into Purpose

By Phillis Dewitt and Mary L. Alesandrini

"This is a remarkable story about a remarkable woman...Why is she still standing and attacking life with faith, hope, and love when most others, given her situation and circumstances, would have given up a long time ago? Well, you're about to find out."

Cal Rychener Founding Pastor of Northwoods Community Church, Peoria, IL autho

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trilogy Christian Publishing
• Release date: Oct 12, 2022
• ISBN: 9798887380681

Phillis Dewitt

Dr. Phillis Dewitt once remarked to a friend that she had done almost everything on her "bucket list" except writer her life's story. Her friend replied, "I'll do it with you. I already know the title of the book!" The result is this publication, which is comprised of many, many hours of shared memories, research, interviews, late night conversations, prayer, encouragement from husbands and friends, and lots of love Because this is, indeed, a labor of love.

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I’m Still Standing

How God Turned My Pain into Purpose

Dr. Phillis Dewitt

with Mary L. Alesandrini

Trilogy Christian Publishers

Tustin, CA

Trilogy Christian Publishers

A Wholly Owned Subsidiary of Trinity Broadcasting Network

2442 Michelle Drive

Tustin, CA 92780

I’m Still Standing: How God Turned My Pain into Purpose

Copyright © 2022 by Dr. Phillis Dewitt and Mary L. Alesandrini

All Scripture quotations, unless otherwise noted, taken from THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Scripture quotations marked (KJV) taken from The Holy Bible, King James Version. Cambridge Edition: 1769.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

For information, address Trilogy Christian Publishing

Rights Department, 2442 Michelle Drive, Tustin, Ca 92780.

Trilogy Christian Publishing/ TBN and colophon are trademarks of Trinity Broadcasting Network.

For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Trilogy Christian Publishing.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Trilogy Disclaimer: The views and content expressed in this book are those of the author and may not necessarily reflect the views and doctrine of Trilogy Christian Publishing or the Trinity Broadcasting Network.

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

ISBN 979-8-88738-067-4

ISBN 979-8-88738-068-1 (ebook)

Contents

Dedication v

Foreword vi

Introduction viii

Chapter 1 1

Chapter 2 10

Chapter 3 17

Chapter 4 26

Chapter 5 36

Chapter 6 47

Chapter 7 56

Chapter 8 65

Chapter 9 77

Chapter 10 86

Chapter 11 97

Chapter 12 109

Chapter 13 120

Chapter 14 129

Chapter 15 140

Chapter 16 152

Chapter 17 162

The End (at least for this chapter of my life...) 173

Afterword 176

About the Authors 178

Dedication

Dedicated to Tony Dewitt for his love and support through our amazing life together and to Brandon Dewitt for showing us all through his life that we were created to do hard things and do them well.

Foreword

When it comes to writing a book entitled, I’m Still Standing, I can think of few people more qualified than my dear friend, Phillis Dewitt. This is a remarkable story about a remarkable woman, who for all practical purposes, should be groveling in despair and cursing life due to the cruel abuse and unfortunate setbacks she has suffered in life. That she is doing neither, but is rather joyfully loving, giving, and serving her way through life is due both to a relationship with her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and the grace, guts, and gumption He has given her to get back up time and time again when it would have been easier to stay down. Her life is a testimony to the motto, Don’t get bitter; get better! And which it will be, bitter or better, is always our choice!

I don’t recall exactly where and when I first met Phillis. I do recall that from the moment I met her, I knew she was an amazing lady. Not only did she have enough energy for three people, but along with a buoyant personality she also had a seemingly unquenchable thirst for adventure, growth, and further learning while already possessing more knowledge and experience than most people will glean in a lifetime. But then I heard her story, and I was, like, There’s no good explanation for why this lady is even alive today, let alone thriving in ways that few people ever experience. So, what is her secret? Why is she still standing and attacking life with faith, hope, and love when most others, given her situation and circumstances, would have given up a long time ago? Well, you’re about to find out.

In the pages that follow, Phillis, with great vulnerability, will unveil a story of heartbreak, abandonment, loss, betrayal, and abuse that few of us have, or will, likely encounter. But if you’ll pay close attention, she’ll also leave you clues for how you too, can get back up and find your way home when the circumstances of life have knocked you down and all but out. So let this book inspire you to know that you too, can overcome any adversity life may throw at you and that at the end of the day, through God’s strength and an indomitable will to persevere, you will be able to say with Phillis, I’m still standing.

—Cal Rychener

Founding Pastor; Northwoods Community Church, Peoria, IL

Introduction

Self-help books are great. This isn’t a self-help book.

Having said that, I hope that by picking up this book and reading it, you will be helped by it. I believe that counselors, psychiatrists, and pastors can really make a difference in our lives, but so can everyday people we meet and get to know.

I’m not a counselor or psychologist. I’m not going to list ten principles for you to live by. I don’t have a 10-bullet point PowerPoint to tell you how to make decisions or deal with your past. I don’t provide a workbook.

But I’ve got a story. Just like you have a story. And by learning each other’s stories, we connect with one another and often help one another. My story is about being a victim of sexual abuse. My story is about enduring a brutal childhood. My story is about being on my own by age sixteen and trying to figure life out without much help. My story is about having no self-worth and thinking people had the right to walk all over me.

It’s also a story about learning, growing, changing, and ultimately triumphing. It’s a story about God’s faithfulness in my life.

So, if you have picked this book up out of curiosity, I hope you’ll turn another page and let me tell you my story. The Bible is full of stories people tell about their encounters with Jesus. They are called testimonies.

The woman at the well in John chapter 4 is one example. She met Jesus face to face and talked to Him. Then she ran into town to tell her story about meeting Him and her story changed lives. People listened to her and as a result, they met Jesus too.

The blind man in John chapter 9 didn’t really know Jesus. He just knew he wanted to see and that he had heard Jesus might help. The result? Jesus healed him and suddenly, the man had a story to tell. And what a story! People had known him for years and knew he was blind. But now the man could see, and he could tell his story about how he met Jesus, and nothing was ever the same again.

The apostle Paul had a story. He spent years killing followers of Jesus, until Jesus met him on the road to Damascus and changed him forever. Jesus changed Saul into Paul, arguably the most influential apostle Jesus ever had. That’s a story worth telling and a story worth reading.

Whether we identify with the woman at the well, the blind man, or the apostle Paul, our stories matter. We don’t have to be psychologists or pastors because God can use any of us. So, if you’re willing, turn the page and let me tell you my story and I hope God can use it to help you or someone you know.

Phillis Dewitt

Chapter 1

I hate Christmas.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a believer in Christ, I love the Lord and am eternally grateful for my salvation. I’m all in when it comes to being a Christian. I’m even good at doing Christmas. I decorate my house, inside and out, make awesome appetizers to take to parties, and give great Christmas gifts. Just ask my grandkids.

My problem with Christmas isn’t the actual season, but rather what happened to me as a child during that season. The Christmas holidays meant my father was home for two weeks, which was a nightmare for my whole family, along with the added horror of being sexually abused by visiting uncles and cousins.

Summer vacation was no great shakes either. My grandfather molested me every time we visited his home during those times. My dad worked for a company that had a two-week set vacation every July. So, the sexual abuse was as regular as the school year ending and summer beginning. My best estimate is that the abuse started when I was three years old.

How’s that for a first childhood memory?

My childhood could be called many things, but happy is not one of them. Let’s just say my family would never have been mistaken for The Brady Bunch. My parents made no attempt to hide their hatred for me; no pretense at all. My mother told me to my face that I was an accident. She had been told that she couldn’t get pregnant while breastfeeding my older brother, and yet she did get pregnant with me. My aunt and uncle once told me that my mother tried to force a miscarriage by jumping off a porch several times, and when I asked my mother if that was true, she confirmed it.

She only held me when I tried to intervene during fights between her and my father. I somehow thought I could be a shield for her, and she would pick me up so I wouldn’t get hit. Didn’t always work out the way I hoped.

My brother and I slept with pillows over our heads to try and muffle the screaming. When it came to fighting, my parents were pros. The violence often centered around mealtimes when we were all together, and during the weekends when my dad was home. I remember times when my dad would take the dinner my mother had cooked and throw it on the floor and force her to eat it off the floor. He would kick her until she complied. It didn’t happen often, but the fact that it happened at all paints the picture.

As I got older, at around age thirteen or so, when I couldn’t take the fighting anymore, I would crawl out my bedroom window and just walk the streets. Since my dad worked second shift, the fights would be in the middle of the night, after he came home from work. My mom would sometimes get my brother and me out of bed to help clean the house before he got home, because she and a girlfriend would play Yahtzee and leave a pile of cigarette butts and trash that she didn’t want him to see.

One night I wound up at the police station around 3:30 a.m. The officers called a counselor in to talk to me. He was nice and I shared with him that my parents would be furious if they knew I was talking to anyone. They believed that family issues needed to stay private. I had talked with a youth pastor at my church prior to this and my dad found out. He punished me by keeping me home from church for a time. And that was indeed punishment because I loved my church. When my mother found out I had shared some problems with a school nurse, she was livid and told me I couldn’t see that nurse again. Despite that, I learned early on that it sometimes helped to talk to people. Little did I know that I would be in and out of counseling and therapy a good portion of my early adult life.

I got to know the policemen in our town pretty well. They were lenient about letting me wander around town, even though it was often after curfew. They sometimes let me sleep in a cell at the station before taking me home in the morning so I could make it to school. My mother had been hospitalized more than once with injuries from previous beatings, so the police were aware of the home situation. I even have memories of some officers singing to help me sleep and bringing me breakfast from McDonald’s on occasion. I hold those memories of kindness very close.

I have other memories of some police officers that are not so kind, but that’s another story…

When I was about eleven months old, I had to have glasses. I was extremely farsighted with crossed eyes and later in life had several surgeries to correct my vision. My glasses were quite thick and of course that brought a lot of ridicule from other kids at school. My eyes were severely crossed, and I wore an eye patch for a year. Pirates are kind of cool these days; when I was a kid, not so much. So, more ridicule.

Because I was so young, my prescription changed every six months. My dad got angry about the cost of the new glasses. Frankly, I’m surprised he even agreed to pay for them, but thankfully he did. He