Life Stories
Omar P.'s Testimony
Growing up I didn’t have a father figure in my life to guide me, to love me and to show me how to be a man. Even though my mother and I lived with one of my older brothers and his family, I didn’t have a close relationship with him. Maybe because he had his hands full raising two kids of his own. My mother was the love of my life growing up. She spoiled me rotten and gave me all that she could afford. She taught me to respect people and to be the best kid that I could. My mother also taught me about God according to what she knew and what she was taught. I can recall my mother reminding my siblings and I to pray at night before going to bed. Even though my mother didn’t know the whole truth she still made sure that we prayed.
I had many friends in the neighborhood where I lived, but one specifically that I would always go play with, who lived across the street from me. We would stay out late playing innocent games like “Tag” and “Hide and go seek” with other kids in the neighborhood. This friend of mine had an older brother and an older sister who were very influential in his upbringing. He looked up to his brother and sister who were already partying and drinking. My friend at a young age began to be interested in sex and in drinking also. I know he just wanted to feel like he was part of something and wanted to be considered “cool” or “hip.” Since I would always hang out with him, he began to slowly start influencing me and I began to be curious about the things that we would hear the older guys talking about. Most times if kids don’t have an adult that they feel comfortable talking to they will go to their friends with whatever questions they have and more than likely are going to learn everything about life the wrong way and that’s what happened to me. Read More »
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Vivian's Testimony
When I walked down the empty corridor, the bare floor seemed to stretch on forever. Nearby, the clicks of my mother’s shoes rang sharply in my ears. When I opened the large metal door, my senses were immediately flooded by a pungent, stale stench. In front of me were rows of steel stools and bulletproof transparent windows. As I stood molded against the wall, my body shuddered, yet I hid behind a cover of indissoluble emotion. A short, stocky man with a close-shaved haircut, wearing pale blue overalls approached a window. Tears came to my eyes, but my feet remained stationed in place. My mother walked over to a steel stool and took a seat. When she picked up the receiver, I watched as an array of emotions swept across her face. After a few minutes of conversation, she motioned me over. Slowly, I lifted one leg and then the other. At the window, I stared across at a face which I had adored my whole life.
“Hello, mija,” he said casually. With those words, the torrent of tears that pressed against closed lids released a single trickle down my stricken face. Why? I asked myself. Why did our family reunion have to take place in this remote prison cell? Why was I crying? You have been through this many times; I tried convincing myself. What is the difference now? Nevertheless, my heart gave way at the sight of my father, three feet in front of me, separated by the glass partition. “Hello, daddy,” I said at last. Read More »
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Omar G.'s Testimony
Sin was a part of my life at a very early age. Lying, stealing… the sort of stuff that just gets passed along as “regular” kid things in the world. I didn’t know it was a sin and to be honest with you I didn’t care. I had to get my candy one way or another! Sin is so deceitful. Unless you know about God you don’t even know what sin is.
Apparently, according to my fellow sixth graders, I was a nerd. Believe that? A nerd! How was I suppose to know that being good at school, collecting baseball cards, and wearing “medical” glasses would classify you as a nerd?! Have you ever been to the optometrist with no cash, only your medical card? They dust off a cover and present you with the wide selection of two different pairs of glasses to choose from, one size fits all!
That’s when I began my journey of trying to find happiness and “fitting in” with the world. I became the class clown as a way of being accepted. The more I would try to be accepted by the world, the more I would have to do things that were against God. Sometimes the things I would do at a young age didn’t feel right. To be honest with you I didn’t care. All I wanted to do was be happy and be accepted. My only form of religion was when my mom forced me to go to a catholic church and do my first communion. It was either study for my first communion test or get a whooping. Sometimes I chose the whooping…
I discovered girls at a pretty early age. In school girls are the barometer of seeing how accepted you are. If the pretty girls like you, you’re in. If they reject you then you move down the social ladder until you find those that do. Sadly to say I would aim for the “top” and find that my social standard was way below average. Can I honestly tell you that during my high school years I felt worthless, meaningless, ugly, and bitter to name a few. I felt as if the only way I could fit in was to joke around. Read More »
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Daisy's Testimony
Twenty-two years ago, I was born into a Pentecostal home. I was raised in church and at the age of three, I received the Holy Ghost. I was baptized when I was four in the name of Jesus after I explained to my pastor why I wanted to be baptized and was able to tell him the steps of salvation. I had a real love for God deep in my heart.
As I got older, life changed, as it always seems to do. My sister got married and moved to California for good when I was thirteen. That same year, I started junior high at a really rough school. I know you all think, “How could a school in Wisconsin be rough?” But, it was. It was a really small school, about 500 people including the staff, but there still were the guns, the drugs, the gangs, everything. I watched one of my friends get his head kicked in on the front steps before school one morning. Another one of my friends had two kids by the time she was 14.
During this time, my parents started having problems. They tried to be there for me, but they had their own problems to worry about, and I started shutting them out of my life. Unfortunately, instead of turning to God as my refuge during these times, I turned to guys instead. I still loved God, but guys became more important to me than what He was. Read More »
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John W.'s Testimony
I consider my up bringing as average and middle class. My mother grew up in a Presbyterian church and my father in an Episcopal church. My brother and I were not really raised going to any church. We probably attended less than 15 actual church services or Sunday school classes growing up. During the few times I attended a church I was taught that Jesus who was born miraculously was the Son of God, that he died on a cross for my sins and rose from the dead three days later. And that if I believed in him I would go to heaven and if I didn’t that I would go to hell. At least that’s how I understood whatever I was taught. As I got older I decided I didn’t believe that. And also that I didn’t believe in religion because there were so many religions and they all claimed they were right and the others were wrong. Because of that, they all seemed the same to me. All of them seemed to be of man and not of God.
What I did believe was that God existed, that there was only one God, and he could do anything he wanted to. I believed He knew all, saw all, and heard all. I would pray to God sometimes, and I believed he heard me because he heard everything. So I went on with life and lived with this kind of belief about God and religion.
When I was about 11 my best friend and I started getting in a lot of trouble together. We started by ditching school and getting involved with people that were into drugs. I was greatly influenced at that time by teens that were just a few years older than me. They were into skateboarding, tagging, drinking smoking, using drugs, backyard keg parties, and other crimes and ungodly things. But at the impressionable age I was, I looked up to them. To make a long story short, from the time I was about 12 to 16 years old, I smoked cigarettes and marijuana, drank, and I got arrested a number of times for vandalism. My mentality at that time was very backwards. I didn’t care about education. I didn’t want to go to school, and I really didn’t care about my life or my future. Read More »
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Roger O.'s Testimony
I would like to share my story with you hoping that somehow it will be a blessing to your life. As a child I went through several experiences that influenced my direction. Being born in Los Angeles, California, into a poor Hispanic family, I witnessed my father’s alcoholism, constant fighting with my mom, and serious threats and abuse, ended up in our family splitting up. I ended up going to drugs at an early age of 7 years old. I had so much anger and pain locked up inside and no way to get it out. My parents got divorced and it broke my heart. My mother just left. She left me when I was 12 years old and the very same day I felt my whole person just lock up inside me. I really needed her love and affirmation but she was just gone.
I went to gang banging and a life of crime so full of hurt… so full of anger… I needed love. That road got tougher and tougher by the minute. I got arrested at the age of 12 years old for vagrancy and gang activity, which took three whole months in Sylmar Juvenile hall. I thought I was never going to get out. I was back in 3 weeks. I became a constant prisoner in and out of jail until I was 18 years old.
Central Juvenile Hall, Los Padrinos Juvenile Hall, Camp Gonzales in Calabasas, Camp Smith in Lancaster, Camp Resnick, Camp Onasuka, Camp Jarvis, Camp so and so, Camp so and so… I did so much violence in the times that I was out, I did so much drugs, so much anger… so much pain… And my mom… was nowhere to be seen. I ended up running the streets living a miserable empty life full of problems and severe mistakes. I didn’t have much to look forward to in life and I wasn’t even a grown up yet. My brother and I took to a serious life of gang banging and illegal misconduct. The court system ended up refilling my case due to me getting into too many fights… I just felt numb… I WAS A CRIMINAL… I WAS A PRISONER. Read More »
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