Yeah, Though I Walk... A Journey of Survival and Deliverance

By Marie Dunham

Where do you walk? This is my story of growing up with all of the necessities of life except love. I am driven to search the highways and byways for true love or at least the meaning of love. Where will my journey lead? Will I know love when I see it, and will it be worth finding? The hurts of the past are a burden and shows no mercy with me attempting to live in the present. The future can't be imagined until I let go. How do I get there? They say God is love, but what does that have to do with me striving and trying to know him? It is my story of self-discovery and how hope is eternal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jul 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781640287952

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Yeah, Though I Walk

A journey of survival and deliverance

Marie Dunham

ISBN 978-1-64028-796-9 (Hard Cover)

ISBN 978-1-64028-795-2 (Digital)

Copyright © 2017 by Marie Dunham

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

296 Chestnut Street

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Introduction

During my life’s journey, I have come to understand that nothing in life is of non-affect. I have lived and taken for granted my misfortunes and given no value to them. Yet I stand in awe of how, in spite of my trials and tribulations, I developed faith at an early age. This story depicts a young girl whose life was disrupted by all forms of abuse. It is within this story that she forgoes her innocence, hopes, dreams, and direction. Still she perseveres and learns to develop a child-like faith. You may ask faith in what? Faith that there is more to her life than her experiences; faith that there is someone somewhere who can see through these transgressions; faith that love truly exist; faith that there is good in the world; and most importantly, faith that God is real. This is my story of a life interrupted by the forces of another, and the challenges met and overlooked trying to find my way back to who I am really.

Hebrews 11:1 says Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

I would begin a journey that would take me through a fortress of deceit, neglect, abuse, and a desire to seek God for my life. You will cry, laugh, and understand why I unknowingly was chosen to be an instrument of God. It will become obvious how God demonstrates His power through my journey of faith in the midst of many storms. I am writing this book for any person who has experienced sexual, physical, emotional, and verbal abuse. This story is also for the young girl who thinks that she has no self-worth, the young lady who graduates from high school only to find that her dream becomes the life of her past, the wife who searched for daddy in all the wrong places, the mother who went missing from her children’s life, and finally the single woman who grew in the love of God.

My story is a catalyst to knowing that anyone can be delivered and restored from the hurts of the past. God is the one who can change a life if you believe. It is the journey that grows one’s faith in God. It is my hope that this story will empower you to be encouraged to move through the pain of the past and seek the love given to you from birth by God, provide the enlightenment to seek the whole truth about your spiritual self and the wanting to know God so that you can finish the journey set before you knowing that you are not alone.

Chapter One

Childhood

I grew up in South West Philadelphia. My mom and dad were working parents. My dad owned his Barber Shop business with his father, and my mom worked as a beautician right down the street. I have two sisters. My younger sister Cookie was not yet born at the beginning of these life events. My older sister Bunchie was eighteen months older than me. It is at this time that this story becomes about my journey.

Life was pretty good from a five-year-old perspective. We lived in a beautiful house and I thought that we would be family forever. Dad would go off to work kissing mom, my sister Bunchie and me saying I love you as he closed the door. However, there was a secret that my sister and I did not recognize about my mom and dad. We discovered that our parents were drinkers in the night. One night, I went to down stairs to sneak something out of the refrigerator to discover bottles of alcohol laying around and my parents passed out on the sofa. At the time, there was no reason to think badly of it (the drinking). I considered them having fun with each other in their way. It was all about the love to me and I went back to bed not disturbing them at all. I told my sister about their drinking and she dismissed it as their problem and not hers. I did not share my feeling about that any further.

Suddenly, things began to change. There was so much yelling, screaming, things falling and breaking, and words being spoken that I had never heard before as I tried to sleep. I sat up in bed listening intensely to what my father was saying to my mother. I woke my sister up to listen and comfort me because I was in shock of the harsh words and I began to cry. My sister did not care. She said that it was their marriage and I should go back to sleep. I could not because my parents were so loud. I went downstairs to ask them to stop fighting so that I could go back to sleep. My parents stopped, looked at me, and spoke no words. Finally, peace and quiet. I went back to bed and was able to sleep through the night. Bunchie was sound asleep and I wondered how she could sleep through the discord in our family. Bunchie and I viewed life differently. She did not care about the mom-dad relationship. I think that she knew about their turmoil because she had seen it before since she is older than me. As sisters, we never talked about how it affected us. We did not connect as sisters going through the same crisis. Therefore, there was no one to share my dismay.

Morning came and it was obvious mom had been physically abused. There was no joy this morning, no laughter, kisses, or words of love from my dad. Dad did not kiss either of us as he left for work. This behavior went on for weeks that never seemed to end. Early one Saturday morning, this day I knew that something was different about both of them. What I did not know was that my life as a happy child would be forever changed.

I remember waking up to my father fighting with my mother. My dad was in a rage. I had not seen him like this ever, just knew the sound, but now I saw what that looked like. He was a monster to me—big, strong, mean, hurtful, and being a bully to my mom. I cried and screamed for my dad to stop but he ignored me. The fighting grew worst. I was in shock as to what would come next. My dad dragged my mom outside in the street telling cars to run her over. I ran after him and jumped on his back hoping that his love for me was enough for him to let go of mom. My dad threw me off of him like I was a nuisance. I got back up and tried again with the same result. Finally, the cops came; by then, the damage was done. My father had left and mom was sitting on the side of the street hugging me and crying. Mom did not go to the hospital as the cops wanted her to do. She took me and went back in the house, cleaned me up as well as herself. She took important papers, some clothes for the both of us, and we left that house and my dad never looking back. We walked to grand mom’s house from 52nd Cedar Ave. to 56th &Market St. It was the longest walk of my life because it was a walk away from my happy life.

Grand mom’s House

Mom must have called my grandmother. I did not remember her before this point. I am sure that we must have been there before but this day was significant because of the trauma that I had just experienced. Grand mom was beautiful with long flowing wavy hair. She greeted us at the door with open arms for mom am me with one question, Are you alright? Tears flowed from mom and me but we answered by nodding our heads that we were fine. I was not fine. I was shaken to my core. How could this happen to me? I thought that I was daddy’s little girl, the apple of his eye, his pride and joy. He was the first male presence (dad) in my life who was supposed to love and take care of me. Instead, he left me dead in my heart. I hurt for mom but this was the beginning of my life. Who am I supposed to be without my family? Without my dad? Everything that I believed about my life was a lie. I was angry, bitter, hurt, and dismayed by the events that had taken place. I lost hope for my future. I believed that there was nothing that could hurt more than this day.

Grand mom’s house was warm and inviting. Not as large as our house but just as nice. She offered us food to eat and a home for as long as we needed one. I did not know that mom would not ever try to find us a place of our own. This was home and I found solace in that. I was too tired to think. My six-year-old brain was exhausted and I wanted to sleep. In the morning, mom took me to the store to buy me some school clothes. Again, there was no conversation about what happened, just reassurance that I was feeling and looking okay. Mom amazed me with her can-do attitude. She was bruised and I know that her heart was broken but she did not let her pain become my pain. Mom was strong for me and she did what needed to be done for me. The next day she took me to John Barry Elementary School to register me for the first grade. The transfer went smoothly and I was glad to be around other children. They appeared to be happy and it made me angry to think that I would not be that happy again. So I pretended that all was well with my family of mom, dad, and me, and I put on a happy face.

Life at grand mom’s house was good. She cared for me and helped mom take care of me. I loved her and took care of her too. I would brush her hair before she went to bed, rub her back if she asked me to, and did my best not to be a problem child. I became comfortable with this lifestyle and mom seemed to find peace herself. She went back to work and we both found a reason to laugh every now and then. Suddenly, mom was in and out of my life. She found a place to be where she could be herself and not just mom. She would come in the morning to make sure I was ready for school and fix breakfast sometimes. Mom could not make oatmeal and I learned to hate it and not eat it. Still, I was always happy to see mom. Her smile made my day okay no matter what. I knew that she was not being hurt any more. Life was good.

Uncle

One day, a man came over grand mom’s house. He was tall but shorter than my father. He did not look like anyone I knew but grand mom was glad to see him. He was my grandmother’s son and my mother’s brother. He was my uncle. His skin tone was much lighter than ours, he had blue-green eyes, and he was just a man to me. By this time, I had developed a hatred for men. It was not visible but I knew that men were the scum of the earth. Uncle talked to grand mom for a while and then he introduced himself to me. He said that I was safe here and that he would be moving in to make sure of that. I did not feel safe but I did not let it show. Uncle moved in that weekend. As I sat on the living room floor, uncle kept smiling at me. I smiled back thinking all men are like my dad.

Surprise! Uncle was wonderful. He would cook breakfast (bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes, and more) before I went to school for me and grand mom. Mom was not coming around as much and I thought it was because of her newfound life. Grand mom said that mom and uncle did not get along very well. No other explanation was given. I pushed it to the side and enjoyed the fact that my uncle liked to cook because he liked to eat a lot. Uncle was also very nice to me. He would buy me clothes, candy, gifts, and took me shopping when he went to the grocery store. My belief about men was changing. He softened my heart and removed my hatred with his kindness and caring way. I began to love my uncle.

Introduction to God

At eight years old, I woke up with a tugging of my heart. It was a strong pulling for me to look for something/someone that I had no idea about. There was an unspoken desire for me to seek and find God. God was not a topic that was discussed at grand mom’s house. Uncle did not speak about God and mom had not mentioned God either. I did not know where this desire to find God was coming from. The day was Sunday. No urgency to go anywhere or do anything. The house was quiet except for the tugging at my heart. I could not dismiss it. The more I moved, the stronger it became. There was no pain, just a sense that I had to do something and go somewhere. I felt a different purpose for this day. A reason to not think about me, but rather search for the unknown.

Suddenly, I knew that I had to ask the question Where is God? The journey for that answer was not as easy as I thought it would be. Mom was over this Sunday morning and we were having breakfast together, all of us—mom, grand mom, and me. Mom said that she did not know where God was so she referred me to my grandmother without inquiry as to why I wanted to know about God. I was hoping for some ounce of caring about my yearning to learn about God. My grandmother was gracious about my question. Grand mom told me that God was in church. That was Sunday. I was excited because Sunday is the day that I see my neighbors go to church. It was about ten thirty in the morning and I pleaded with my grandmother to let me go to church. At eight years old and all alone, I walked around the corner to the church to find God. It was amazing to me, the tall building called church. It stood on the corner with a cross at its top. The church’s name was White Rock Baptist Church. To me, it was intimidating not knowing what was inside. I was hoping for God with no idea of what or who would show up. Was God a man or a woman or what? I was excited and scared at the same time. Why did I have this tugging of the heart to find God and what did God want with me?

I walked into the church where there were a lot of men standing around. I became more afraid. Men! Then a lady came over to me and asked if she could help me. I told her I was looking for God. She directed me to a children’s Sunday school class. There I stood in awe of all the boys and girls that were there. I did not want to stay, I just wanted to know where God was. I told the teacher that I was looking for God. She looked at me and said, Little darling, God is inside of you, while touching where I could feel my heart beat. What! I was amazed that God was inside of me. I did not question how or why. I was happy to know that God was real and he lived with me. In that moment, I became different, more confident, and happy in knowing that God was real and He lived in me. The Sunday school teacher’s name was Mrs. Powers and she asked me to stay but I did not want to. The answer to my question was my only concern. I went home and told my grandmother what I had learned. Grand mom said that she knew but wanted me to find God for myself. Grand mom did not seem too happy with God for herself. Grand mom’s conversation was easily diverted and that was the end of God talk. For me, I decided to go to Sunday school every Sunday. There I learned all about God, how God loved me and how God was my father in heaven who could be there and in my heart at the same time. I learned that God created the world and everything in it and that included me. Mrs. Powers gave me a picture Bible that told the story of the creation starting with the book of Genesis and other great stories about God. I learned that I was made in the image of God and that was why he was calling me to find Him. I found out that I could pray to God and ask him for anything. I learned that God would not let anything bad happen to me. Wait, something bad had already happened to me. Where was God then? From my understanding at eight years old, I decided that since I did not know God on that awful day, God did not know me. As time went on, I wanted more understanding of God and what God wanted from me. Thus, unaware, my journey of child-like faith began.

One day in Sunday school, Mrs. Powers started telling a story about how God has a son named Jesus. I had not heard this before so I was intrigued. She gave me a book with pictures and stories about Jesus. She taught me a new song Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him behold, they are weak but He is strong. I will always remember my first song about Jesus. I studied Jesus by reading my book at home. The more I read, the more I wanted to belong to Jesus. Once again, I was being pulled to seek more. Mrs. Powers gave me a scripture to remember.

John 3:16 For God so loved the world that he gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever would believe in Him would not perish but have everlasting life.

I had no idea of what that meant. I thought that I would live forever. I had a desire to want to know and believe Jesus. As Sunday school progressed, Mrs. Powers asked if I wanted to be baptized. Once again, I was unaware of its importance. That day, I stayed after class to speak with Mrs. Powers about being baptized. She had explained it to the class and most of the boys and girls were eager to take home papers for their parents to sign for permission and attendance. Not me. I had to know more. Mrs. Powers explained to me how being baptized would mean that I accept Jesus into my heart. She said that I would be put in a pool of water and the pastor would hold me and dunk me three times, baptizing me in the name of Jesus so that I could go to heaven one day. Mrs. Powers said that I would gain faith in God and learn to trust Him more. I left Sunday school with papers in hand convinced that I should be baptized.

I told my family that I wanted to be baptized. They did not respond the way I had hoped. Nevertheless, my excitement overruled their lack of caring. My grand mom signed for me to be baptized but no one in my family came to celebrate this occasion. Mrs. Powers must have known that I would stand alone. She bought all of us a new Bible and inside of mine, she wrote God is always with you even when you stand alone. I continued in Sunday school. I knew that I had found God, learned about Jesus, and became a Christian. Thus, my introduction to God was present but limited in understanding God fully.

Home Life

While I was attending school and Sunday school, there must have been something going on at the house. Grand mom was becoming more distant and mom was hardly ever there. When mom was present, it was obvious to me that she had been drinking. I could smell it on her breath and her words were hard to understand. She would go upstairs to take a nap but uncle was home. I heard a few harsh words and then mom came downstairs and left. Mom would not stay longer than a few minutes especially when uncle was home. I was wondering about uncle and why no one would talk about what he did to mom. Those thoughts were easily dismissed because uncle was still being nice to me. He continued to treat me like a princess.

One night, uncle came home and while I was sleeping he carried me out of my bed into his. He smelled like he had been drinking and I became very afraid. Danger! A man who is drinking will hurt me. Life lesson from daddy. What was happening to me and where was God? I thought that I was protected from anything bad happening to me. I thought that my reason for going to find God was to be protected from all harm. I was wrong. I thought for sure that my being baptized would cause Jesus to stop everything to save me. So I prayed and asked God to not let anyone kill me because I felt like I was dying. Week after week uncle would come and get me. Uncle would tell me to be quiet, so I was. He would tell me that I would be put away if I told anyone so I didn’t. I was waiting for God and Jesus to show up. God was in me, right? Didn’t He feel what was happening to me? Didn’t He care? Once again, I was beginning to feel abandoned by someone who was supposed to love, care, save, and protect me. Oh my God, not you too, was my thinking. God was not there and I did not know why.

I endured the transgressions of uncle by creating another me. I detached from the situation, not letting it affect the core of my existence. My innocence was invaded, I could not stop that. My opinion of men went to the darkest place of my being. I kept living not looking for God to answer another prayer. I thought this life was the one that I was meant to live. The fact that God did not protect, I thought that Jesus saved me by letting me live, and that was enough for me. Uncle continued this behavior throughout my childhood. I was ten years old now and uncle was drinking more at home. Uncle became mean and hurtful in words and actions. Uncle began hitting me for no reason and still having his way with me during the night. I was growing tired of uncle and angry.

Mom

Mom would come around and I was always happy to see her safe and happy. Mom would talk with me and tell me things about being a good girl. I noticed that mom was getting a little fat in the tummy area but I did not say anything. Mom continued to encourage me and she finally told me why she could not live with me and uncle. She said that uncle was mean to her and hurt her in the past. I understood her distance but did not know why she could not take me with her. Mom told me that she was living with a friend and she was happy and doing well. She did not look too well