[b]Short version:[/b] I had an encounter with God. He healed mental wounds I would carry with me till this day had I not encountered his Grace and love. [b]Long version[/b]: I was a very sweet child, growing up, full of love, and joy. So I am told. This all changed when I turned 6. My father whom I had never known was returning from the marine corp, and moving back home. He had been away for 3 years on multiple tours overseas. I had only maybe seem him 6 weeks of my life up until this point. At first things were great. My dad played catch with me. We built tree forts, and he took me running with him. Then things changed suddenly. One day I heard my mother screaming, "you are killing me, you are killing me" then nothing. The car started, and he drove off. I was 7 years old. I came to the door calling for my mother. I heard her crying for help, but very softly. She was at the bottom of the stairs, bloody and beaten. My father had beaten her, and stomped her head onto the concrete slab. She managed to get up, and with my help at a slow crawl we managed to make it to the neighbors, who was a family friend. She drove my mother to the hospital where she received about 100 stitches. Years later I would find out this occurred because my mother told my father she had cheated on him. They separate for a few weeks. Then get back together. a few months go by, but things start to get bad. They start fighting more often, less physical now, more shouting and yelling. By this time, I am almost eight years old. A few months before my eight birthday is the first day my father hurt me. It was shortly after a fight him and my mother had. He went out to the garage to work on something. He came in the house yelling for me. He asked me where his hammer was, I told him I lost it. He explodes into a rage. He grabs me by my hair, throws me against the wall. I collapse to the ground, and he begins to lash me with his belt. I begin sobbing and crying out for my mother. She yells at my father to stop, and he does. It was the first time I'd feel pain like this, and not the last. A few years go by and the abuse increases in ferocity. The worst being the day my father broke my nose, I was 11. I was outside playing with my dog when suddenly I hear my sister scream. I bolt in the direction of the screaming. As I round the garage of the house I am met by my fathers fist in the face. He knocks me flat on my back and blood erupts from my nose. I stood up, trying not to cry. Something I learned early on, because the more I cried the worst the beating would be. He thought I was hurting my sister, due to her screaming, come to find out she was stuck in a tree. A few more years go by and my parents divorce, I am 13. I am so happy, I am finally free from my fathers physical and emotional abuse. A year goes by and my mother begins to see a man. I don't much care for him, and I tell her so. She marries him six months later. It would be 5 months before this new man would hurt me. I was now 15. My new "step father" told me to get in the car because he wanted me to go with him. I explained to him I had plans already and my mom knew about them. She was working, he was a loser without a job I must add. As I headed out the door, he kicked me in the back from behind. I fell forward stumbling from the force of the kick. Just as I recovered, I heard a sickening smack. Then a Hot shooting pain up my back. Then another, and another. He was hitting me with a wooden boat paddle across the back again and again and again, until I passed out. I woke up after some time, in harsh pain. I gimped my way to my grandpas house down the road and he took me to the hospital. I told him I fell from a tree, because no one believed me when I'd tell them, just like with my father. I endured extreme mental and physical abuse from this new man for 3 years, until I turned 16. At this point I was at my breaking point. On many occasions I had thought and nearly carried out attempts at suicide. One night I even stood over my step father with a knife, prepared to end his existence. It was here that I feel I had my first brush with what I now call God, because I heard a small, quiet voice tell me not to worry, that it will be ok. I went to my room, and the next day my mother kicked him out, and divorced him shortly after. At this time in my life I was an atheist. I didn't know God, or believe in a God. A few years down the road I met a man and he introduced me to Heathenism, and I became a follower of Viking code of honor, as well as a follower of Thor. I settled in this ideology for 3 years, from the age of 16-19. However, I still felt empty. I felt as though there was something more. At the age of 19-20 I began seeking out other religions, I attended mosque for a year (20-21), I read the Qur'an twice front to back. I managed to memorize a few verses. However it didn't seem right either. I couldn't put my finger on what it was. But something was missing from the religion. Something I had no name for. At the age of 22, I began to meditate and try to seek inner peace. I practiced many different styles of meditation. Some of which I still do today. One day while checking the mail, I found a Postcard/advertisement. It was for a church. On the front it said, come without your mask to Anchor Cove, a place where the Love of Christ is. I was intrigued. I had off and on went to church as a kid. I didn't believe, I just went for the ,food and because it got me away from my father and step father. I attended a service and as the Preacher began to speak. I felt something within begin to awaken. It was like a fire that was uncontrollable building on the inside. As the Preacher spoke about the Love of Christ, I was drawn in and the fire began to grow. He spoke of how God loved me and that he wanted a deep intimate relationship with me. He began to talk differently, strangely. He said God Has a word for someone here tonight. He said " My child I want you to know that I wept with you through all the pain you endured for all those years, know that I am your father in heaven and that I love you". I fell to the ground in a heap, the words shot straight to my soul. I was the only person to react, no one here knew me. There was no possible way he could have known this about me. I knew it was truly God speaking through this man. It was impossible, yet I knew it to be real. I began to deeply study the bible. One die while fasting, and reading my bible, I felt a presence and in my mind I heard, go to your mother and show here that scripture. It was this scripture. Proverbs 23:30-32New King James Version (NKJV) 30 Those who linger long at the wine, Those who go in search of mixed wine. 31 Do not look on the wine when it is red, When it sparkles in the cup, When it swirls around smoothly; 32 At the last it bites like a serpent, And stings like a viper. The moment I showed her she began to weep. I was confused. She told me to look at the computer she was on. I was amazed, in front of me was the profile picture of a women my mother thought to be a friend. In that picture was a glass of red wine, and a Snake. My mom through her sobbing began to tell me that she had learned this friend was talking badly about her behind her back to her new husbands ex-girlfriend and childhood sweet heart. It was at this point when I new that God was real, and that Jesus Christ was the only way. It would be months down the road, but eventually, I realized all of the harm my years of abuse had literally fallen away. I was no longer socially awkward. I was capable of loving others. I was no longer angry, and resentful. I even forgave my father and step father. The years of depression I had struggled with had eroded and were no longer present. I was finally happy, and free to be who God made me to be.