Set Free: He Restored My Soul

By Shelley Yocam

In Set Free, Shelley Yocam unveils a raw and poignant narrative of her life's journey, marked by bullying, a challe

• Language: English
• Publisher: Yocam Ministries
• Release date: Mar 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798218341510

Book preview

The Early Years

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

Psalm 91:1

I was born on June 10, 1965. This was the year of great flooding in Colorado, where around fourteen inches of rain fell. I was the youngest of four and lived on a farm. Even though I was the youngest, I knew I was His workmanship, created for good works, which God prepared beforehand that I should walk in (Ephesians 2:10). I was born with strawberry blonde hair and weighed eight pounds, ten ounces. Just as God did with Adam, He formed me, breathed His breath of life into my nostrils, and I became a living being (Genesis 2:7). I was a blaze of energy, a fiery one He set apart for His use.

God has a unique calling for each individual. While God has a will for every one of His children, Satan’s will is the opposite. He comes to steal, kill, and destroy (John 10:10). When I was six months old, my sister accidentally dropped me on my head. My brother said, Since it’s a girl, could you just throw it away since we don’t need another girl! In 1969, at the age of four, my sister was riding a bicycle, and I was sitting on the handlebars. My foot slipped and got into the chain; blood ran everywhere, and I had to have stitches. Then, when I was five years old, I was going to cut an orange and missed the orange and almost cut my finger off. The pop-sickle stick and butterfly bandage were used regularly. In 1970, my family and I nearly died when the water heater blew out. Miraculously, my mom was awakened by an angel; then, she woke all of us up. She cut her chin because she was so drowsy. Besides my mom’s scratched-up chin, we all got out of the house uninjured. Despite all these unfortunate circumstances, God’s hand of protection and care on my life felt strong from a young age.

Other memories that weren’t all too good come to mind, too. In 1971, I was six years old, and my sister was going to the bathroom. I was younger and told her how badly I needed to go. While on the toilet, she put a newspaper down and told me to go on that, so I did. Unfortunately, I was somewhat used to that treatment from her, and she did end up getting in trouble.

Another memory with her comes to mind when we arrived home from the Methodist church. We had a large horse tank. While my sister and I were by the horse tank, she told me there was a snail that I should see. As I attempted to look at the snail, my head dropped into the tank, and I thought I would drown. Thankfully, my sister found it in her heart to pull my head out of the water.

In another memory, I remember wanting to run with my sister. I admired her at one point. When I asked if I could run with her, she said, Don’t you dare run with me. You find your own thing. You’re not welcome to ever run with me. I feel as if these memories are etched into my soul. The amount of pain I experienced as a child was ugly. I wanted to be part of my family not reminded I was not planned.

My last memory with my sister was when I was in kindergarten. She told me that grandma was making a beautiful quilt, and I was so excited because my grandma made beautiful quilts. So we went to grandma’s, and I ran into her house. Thrilled about my quilt, I asked grandma, Where is it?! Grandma was surrounded by so many people and was aghast that I would come in like that.

Grandma said, Shelley, your grandma has died. I left grandma's house crying. I was six years old and lost my grandma and was hurting in so many ways!

In 1972, when I was seven years old, my cousin B.B. and I were playing. After digging them out of the horse tank, we would smash snails with rocks. After we killed about 100, I felt bad and told my cousin we needed to pray to God and ask Him for forgiveness. That same day, a wasp landed on my arm. B.B. told me not to move. Then, he got a rock and smashed it on my arm, and I am sure you can guess how that ended.

In 1974 I remember going to my sweet Aunt.  She was always so happy and fun to be around.

I dreaded the trip because of the greetings. My Uncle would kiss me on my lips. I was only nine years old, and I hated it; I thought yuck! I told my Dad, and he said he was just an affectionate man.

That same year, I found out I despised peaches, or so I thought. We were in my grandma’s garden. She had a big peach tree full of ripe peaches, and I was given one. When I felt that velvet peach, I dropped it to the ground. Grandma asked what was wrong. I said I don’t like the feel of