You Just Don't Know, How We Prayed For You.

By Donna Burnworth

This is my story, on how I survived child abuse sexual abuse and domestic violence. I tell my story to help others heal in their pain for what they have gone through. My family taught me about God growing up, but it wasn't until I was about 19 or 20 until I truly discovered who God was for myself. During the years I found drugs, and the wrong people to lean on instead of God. But life has a way of bringing us back to our roots. Despite all of the abuse and the anger God brought me back to him. And I allowed him to help me in my healing process. As I pray that this book will inspire you to heal yourself, And to lean on Him. I was between the ages of 4 and 5 years old when the abuse started in my life. Prior to that I tell you about my family background. I pray that this book blesses you and helps you on your journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Donna Burnworth
• Release date: May 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224962297

Donna Burnworth

I have an amazing husband, three children and two grandchildren. Family is my everything. As you read my story, you'll see the trials and tribulations I went through. But my past, does not define me. I love painting and arts and crafts and writing. God is my inspiration in everything I do. 

Book preview

Dedication Page

This book is dedicated to my grandmother, Barbara J. Lusk. She was so much more than just an inspiration; she was the glue that held the family together. She may not physically be here any longer, but she helped me find the name for this book. Because of her, I discovered what I would name my book. She knew my life was rough. You see, when I was a child, I was allowed to visit her. And when I would tell her what was going on at home at my mom's house, she would grab my hand and, ever so softly, say, You just don't know how we prayed for you. Her prayers to God made a hard time bearable until I was old enough to understand how to pray for myself. As you read my story, you'll get a better understanding of the power behind those prayers. Thank you, Grandma!

Chapter 1: The Early Years

Before I begin my story, I  want to make it clear that my mother suffered from mental illnesses during her life. When she was on her medication, she would be a fun-loving person to be around. In the times she didn't take it, she became what she would refer to as GI JANE. As I get into my story, you will get a better understanding of that. I am writing this story from a perspective of forgiveness—not just for my mom but for all who hurt me. I believe with all of my heart that my mom wanted to be a great mother. She just didn't have the ability due to her illness.

My parents met in high school in 1976. My dad fell in love with my mother the moment he saw her across the way. He wanted to meet her, so he decided to pay the office lady in candy bars to find out her name. Once he found out my mother's name, he asked her out for a date. I remember hearing the story about their first date. My parents were living in the Bay Area in California, and at that time, jumping on a plane to go to Disneyland was not too expensive, so my dad decided to take her there for the day. They had a great time, and later that night, when Dad was dropping Mom off at her house, he told her, Thank you for an amazing birthday! At first, she was confused, and then she got angry with him for not telling her sooner that it was his birthday. After that, they were a couple.

My parents got married in August 1976, and I was born in October 1977. My dad decided to enlist in the army but was rejected when they found out he had plates in his feet. When he was born, he had clubbed feet, and the doctors did surgery to correct the problem. He was my grandmother's youngest son of four children. He was a very sick baby. One time, my grandparents had taken him to the hospital when he was very young. The doctors told my grandparents to prepare because he wasn't going to make it through the night. My grandmother was a very godly woman and never gave up on my dad; she prayed by the window with my grandpa. All night, they prayed until suddenly—that's how God is sometimes, suddenly!—a beam of light in the early morning surrounded them both. They both stood up to their feet, praising God, knowing their son was going to live.

My mother came from a smaller family with only one sister. My grandfather worked on the railroad, and my grandmother took care of the home. Unfortunately, my grandmother had a drinking problem. My mother had told me stories of what it was like coming home from school, not knowing if her mother would be awake or passed out and drunk. When my grandmother was sober, she was the sweetest woman in the world.

My parents were fresh out of high school when I was born. Since my dad couldn't go into the army, my mother did. She made it through boot camp and was stationed in West Virginia. While she was in training, my dad and I lived at his parents’. There was always lots of love in the house.

My grandfather was a retired Oakland police officer. He may have been slightly rough around the edges, but truly, he was a happy man. One of his nicknames was Happy. I remember, as a child, looking at his pictures on the wall. He was so handsome in his police uniform. Living with my grandparents and my dad was short-lived.

I remember going on a plane with my dad to visit my mom. Back in those days, there were ashtrays on the arms of the plane seats. They had a lid that opened and closed. They were made of metal, and I liked the sound that they made when they opened and closed. I must have been about 2 years old. I remember Dad saying, Stop that! Apparently, he got tired of the clinking sound.

At one point, Dad and I lived with Mom on base. I remember that well. We were in Hawaii at that time, and while we were stationed there, we also had family on the island. My great-grandmother was born on the island of Honolulu. She came to the States before Hawaii became part of the Union. While Mama was stationed there, I remember visiting family, and there was a big fire pit with