Miracles, Endurance, and Forgiveness: My Window of Grace

By J.S. Osborne

Some might ask, "Why read your story? You aren't a famous celebrity or public figure who people would be eager to learn of your deepest secrets." They would be correct; I'm neither of those things. However, the experiences that I've had and the miracles received are the best reasons to read my story.

I'm certain there are many people, adults and children in the world, who have gone through (or are currently going through) some of these same traumas. They need to hear my message of survival; they need to know that miracles do exist. Granted, there are people in the world who have experienced far worse atrocities than those cited herein. Overall, my life has been blessed in many ways, and the bad that happened along the way simply made my faith stronger and helped me become the person I am today. None of that was easy, and it has certainly taken a long time to get here, and yet here I am.

My reason for finally getting to this place is because it was put in my heart that I need to help other people--those who have given up hope and think they can't survive their past. God, spirit, or whatever higher power you believe in, will get you through it if you let him. Even if you're a nonbeliever, you can bring yourself out of that well of despair.

I don't claim to be an expert on any of this, nor have I studied religion fervently over the years. In fact, I'm not sure I've ever made it through the Bible from cover to cover. All of that is okay; I still receive the miracles and continue to have faith. I know that I'm not alone and that there is an entire host of angels assigned to only me in this life just as they are to you. My lessons in this life are far from over.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jun 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9781685701222

Book preview

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Miracles, Endurance, and Forgiveness

My Window of Grace

J.S. Osborne

ISBN 978-1-68570-121-5 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88943-119-0 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-68570-122-2 (digital)

Copyright © 2023 by J.S. Osborne

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

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Preface

Epilogue

About the Author

For my parents who did the very best they could; you finally know my truth.

And for my children that I love more than life.

I was never the mother you deserved, nor probably one you would've chosen.

You always deserved better than you got but I, too, did the best I could.

Preface

While this book is not a typical memoir, detailed with every aspect of events from each stage of my life, it is an overview of the highlights of those events that shaped my life and made me the person I am today.

My motivation for writing this book was not to hurt or lay blame on any person or event in my life. Everything that happened was destined and orchestrated for my growth and, ultimately, for my good (despite not seeming so at the time).

Perhaps someday, I'll write a sequel to fill in those gaps of things forgotten, or left out, which will provide context leading up to events herein and the emotions behind them. My sequel can pick up where this one leaves off and, hopefully, detail that I did get my happily ever after!

Throughout my life there have been several miracles (I can't even begin to recall all of them ) ; but so many times I could clearly see that God had my back in the situation. M y mother once told me that when she was pregnant with me she drove underneath a train trestle that partially collapsed on the hood of our car as she was driving underneath on her way to work. S he said that since he spared us that day, she promised God she'd never work again. To my knowledge, she never did; she stayed home to raise my brother and me.

My mother married my father when she was around thirteen or fourteen years old; he was seventeen. At the age of fifteen, she gave birth to my sister (it was a different time back then and more common for young marriages). There would be two more boys to follow before I came along, and somewhere in between there was either a miscarriage or a stillborn sibling that was buried at my grandmother's house in her flower garden. My mother never went into details about that, so I'm unclear about what happened and the timeframe. I was always told how my father begged my mother to have one more girl; she would do anything for him regardless of whether it was what she actually wanted. There were times I felt she only had me to please him.

My parents were older when I came along; so were my siblings. I was the baby of the family and, although I had a nine-year-old brother at home, I grew up like an only child. Looking back, I remember there was no talk of religion or church in our home. My parents were believers in their own way (right from wrong), but they had no real relationship with God. Thankfully, however, much later in their lives, they did get involved in church and my father was baptized. He became a deacon in their church, and they were both very active until they were no longer physically able to attend in person. So growing up, I had no idea of who God was or what being a Christian meant. At one point, maybe when I was five or six, we had a neighbor that offered to take me to Sunday school every week. I honestly had no idea why I was there or what those people were talking about.

I do have one vivid memory of being there with my illustrated Bible; the teacher was telling us about Roman soldiers, and I had found a picture of one in the Bible. Although I was painfully shy, I raised my hand and asked her if a picture inside my Bible was what a Roman soldier looked like. Before she could even answer, a boy in the class laughed and said something to the effect of, "That's what you look like."

The teacher mildly scolded him and praised me for finding the picture; however, I don't recall ever going back to Sunday school after that. Not only was I painfully shy, but I suffered from extremely low self-esteem (even at that young age). All throughout my childhood and even high school, I was the skinny/awkward girl—the target of all the clueless boys who felt the need to make fun of and humiliate someone who wouldn't fight back or stand up for themselves. They had no idea of who I was inside or what I'd already been through in my life. My brokenness was just below the surface of that outer shell they carelessly chose to verbally torture.

Like so many others, far too many, my childhood innocence was stolen at a very young age. Unfortunately, I grew up in a different time; back then, such things were never discussed, and children weren't warned of the dangers. We weren't told to be wary of someone that made us feel uncomfortable or tried to touch our privates, let alone to tell someone if anything happened. Obviously, the word incest was not even in my vocabulary; yet by the time I was ten years old, I had been a victim of it at least three times (that I can remember) by different family members.

The first two times happened sometime before I was five years old, so the memories are vague. Those relatives were children as well (albeit older), so I've always reconciled it in my adult mind as children being curious. Just like you always hear about kids playing doctor at that age, parents laugh and say, No, no, and that's the end of that. Nothing sinister is ever considered, so even to this day it's difficult for me to compare those experiences to the other ones when I think back. It was only during my adult counseling sessions that I was told they are, in fact, the same. I was well into my thirties before I even considered that I might need counseling.

Despite all of that, God still found a way to reach me. Like most kids, I loved to watch TV. Most of the epic movies were televised during that era: The Ten Commandments, The Greatest Story Ever Told, and Jesus of Nazareth, to name a few. I was fascinated and greatly moved by what I saw, especially what Jesus endured. Those movies sparked my curiosity, and I wanted to know more about this man called Jesus and his Father, God.

There were a few Bibles in our house, so I began reading all of the red excerpts depicting