My pain and abandonment started early, in the womb. I was unwanted by both parents. In fact, my father refused to believe he was my father and was not in my life until I was 3 years old. My mother wanted to give me up for adoption and had chosen a family for me. But, when I was born, she decided to keep me. In retrospect this made me feel like I was an object and dispensable. All the years I lived with my mother she continually reminded me that she didn't want me and should have "given me away". I was made to feel stupid. My years as a child and teenager were filled with her abuse; both emotional and physical. She beat me severely to the point where I was not allowed out of the house for fear of someone seeing the bruises. At times she threw her whisky in my face and reminded me how I had ruined her life. After the periods of abuse, guilt would overtake her and she would buy me lots of presents and overwhelm me with affection. I remember praying, asking God, begging Him, to take me out of the trap I was in.
Eventually I was kicked out of home at age 15. My mother dropped me off at the YWCA. This felt like the best day of my life; God had come through! I started work in a bank but the company found out I was under age and phoned child welfare. They then located my father in Port Elizabeth and asked him to get in touch with me. This was the first time I had spoken to him since he left us when I was 7. He bought a plane ticket and asked me to come and live with him. Finally, My father wanted me! I was thrilled. My joy was shortlived though as he started to abuse me sexually. I ran away and came back to JHB.
Of all the abuse I suffered, for me, the emotional kind was the hardest to work through. God has blessed me with a very soft tender heart and, perhaps because of this, emotional rejection has been the hardest for me to work through.
At 20 I met Eugene and 2 years later we married. We had children and the rest is history in the making. Only God could do this for me. I have worked very hard on myself and have worked through years of counselling. Which brings me back to the letter "h" in my name. Once, in a counselling session, I was asked why my name had an "h" at the end. I had always hated it. We prayed together and asked God to reveal His wisdom to me. He showed me how Sara's name had changed to Sarah, and Abram's to Abraham. What I understood the Lord to be saying to me was that He was always there for me, with me, and that HE very much wanted me even though my parents didn't! Aint that just the coolest thing? I give Him all the glory.
I believe God has placed a gift in me, to help other women that have gone through similar experiences I have. And it blesses me every time I help them. My heart is for broken women and I am continually amazed at who God connects me with so He can work His healing in them.
Thank you Jesus, for never leaving me, and for my family, who adore me.
Ursulah
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