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My Story


grand-daughter
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How can one truly lay out their life in a short summary and express the emotions that accompany each step? I will attempt it hoping that all who read can read the feelings in the words. Of course this will not, nor could it ever cover all that has happened over the years. Please bear with me. I am going to start off from the beginning in hopes of it showing a way to a glorious end.

I was born into a very confused family. I don’t have many memories of my real father but I do have knowledge of what I was told. My parents were both alcoholics and divorced while I was still a baby. My grandmother told me a few things of my father. Not that he was a great man but they weren’t all that bad. On the other hand my mother when I could get her to share anything only had a negative take on him. So as you can see there was confusion from the beginning. I do know that it irked my mom to no end when I was curious about him. I really don’t even know why I was, it’s not like he was around for me or my brother and sister. I did hear a few times from my mother, you’re just like your father. So I guess it was a piece of the puzzle that was missing for me.

Later on my mother married again and once again it was to an alcoholic. With this marriage came three more sisters. Our lives were riddled with poverty, pain and much hurt, though my mother in her delusion referred to us as the Brady bunch. I was not a happy child there never seemed to be enough of anything to go around. I guess my first mistake was to be outspoken enough to speak out about it. At times my parents would try to do the family thing and have discussions where we were to feel free to speak. Ha! I like her she’s got moxy they would say but it sure didn’t seem like they liked what I said.

I find it hard to express the torment my heart went through as a child. How does a mother turn away from her own flesh? Is it possible that a child can do something so wrong that the concept of a hug is terrible? Is it also possible that all that went wrong was their fault? I struggled with that for many years. Sooner or later the pain started to overwhelm me. Enough to run to God knows where. The streets were better than that place. At least then I knew why I wasn’t eating. Then it was my fault to be walking in the rain and sleeping on benches. It would have been fine with me if it ended there.

At the age of eleven I had already seen so much but it was just the beginning. I then was sent to various group homes, foster homes, and treatment centers for unruly children. If you have ever heard that these places were formed to help children, think again. Abuse runs rampant in these places. All forms all overlooked because of course we were the crazy ones. Our word wasn’t any better than all the men who said I love you now pull your pants down or of the drug dealers that say I have something that will make all of your problems go away.

Let me backtrack a minute. I must say that I always loved God. I believe it stemmed from the fact that my parents in order to have it quiet during hangovers sent us kids to church. I didn’t have much knowledge but I had a great feeling that He loved me somehow when even my own mother couldn’t.

I was in the eighth grade and in probably one of the most abusive homes that I’d ever been in when ironically enough I heard speaking in tongues for the first time. The group home mother was very into the Pentecostal church. I didn’t except it readily. But when I heard speaking in tongues I felt a strange craving for it. I knew in some odd way it was truth. Though out of order.

Jumping ahead to the age of sixteen I ran away for the last time. The courts finally emancipated me. Still in the midst of it all I was caught up in drugs and sex and anything else I needed to do to survive. Oddly enough I still had the terrible feeling that God was displeased with me. There was just never anyway that I could see to do the right thing when everything in my life was wrong. How could God love a girl who ran with gangs or slept with men? How could He forgive the lies and the manipulation I took a part in to survive? I myself had a hard time looking in the mirror how could He accept me and bless me?

While at yet another party I ran into a guy who I knew from an old foster home I had been in. I knew he liked me then but I had no time for him. But was this my way out? He asked me to marry him. I did. I was eighteen. I didn’t love him but I used him and tried to finally do something right. I even asked him to read the bible with me. I ended up getting pregnant and I was so happy. Nathan was born and became my world. It started rough, oh so rough. Nathan was born three months premature. Death seemed to be knocking on the door. Little did I know you can’t trust a nurse. I became pregnant again while Nathan was still in the hospital. Jamie was born also three months early but only survived a day and a half.

My husband couldn’t seem to get the partying out of his system so after a while we rarely saw him. He would go away for a week at a time. Not leaving much behind. I still don’t know how I made it through with no telephone, food or money. But I can say this if there was anything ever good in my life it was my son. He was my joy and my hopes. He held my heart in his hands.

On 7-24-1986 death struck its horrible blow once again. My world was buried that day. A rare disease took his little body and killed it. I lay on the floor for days in his room not even moving to relieve myself. If that wasn’t punishment enough I was blamed on top of it all. Who was the carrier of this rare disease? Nobody knew but I wasn’t able to fulfill all the medical tests that were needed to prove it not to be me. People I thought were my friends would have nothing to do with me for fear. And being that I was receiving welfare at the time because I had a baby I lost my only source of money because he was no longer alive. I was kicked out of our apartment for lack of payment. Once again I was on the street.

I went nuts over the next two years. I was angry at the world. I was angry at God!

I went from one bad relationship to another. Abuse and drugs once again filled my life.

I had three more children, from different men. One of them took place because of a rape.

Seemed fitting because hadn’t I been raped all my life anyway?

So on I went, a single mom just trying to straighten out the mess that was my life. I decided to stop dating. Until one day my friend said I have this man I want you to meet. It took her a while to convince me because all I wanted was someone who loved God and would treat us well. Because during that time when I refused to date I cried many tears to the God I once loved and then hated. She said, “He is the Godliest man I have ever met”.

Next segment my introduction to fellowship.

Ok, I'm back after a few years to try to finish this story somewhat. Please bare with me for not knowing dates but rest assured the feelings and experiences are all very much locked in my head and heart.

So the name of the Godliest man my friend had ever met was Dave. To tell you the truth I didn't like him much at first. He wanted me to be a part of a practical joke to his friend and for some reason that just didn't sit right with me. However through weeks of continuing to go watch them play (oh I forgot to tell you,he was a drummer in a band) we talked more and more and finally because of a disagreement between the people I was to get a ride home with I allowed him to drive me home, thus starting a whole new world for me that I never really expected. He was kind to me and the kids. He never tried to even kiss me let alone anything else, and then the kicker... he knew about God in a way that I had never heard before. We would talk for hours and hours, into the night and morning even if he had to work the next day. It was so exciting for me that I hung on his every word. He told me of a group that he had been in years before that sounded so wonderful, I was amazed he ever left. I was hooked in, I wanted to know everything he could teach me.

It turned ot that he ran into a person he knew from this group again and they invited him to a fellowship. He wasn't going to go because he felt shame he said because of his past marriage to a woman in this same group. Boy if I only knew then what I know now I certainly wouldn't have encouraged him to go. Even though he invited me, I didn't go at that point but knew deep down that I would sooner or later.

When I went to my first twig I thought, "wow, so this is what it is like to be at peace with God?" Everyone was so kind to me and didn't seem to care about what I had ever done wrong in my life. It was so refreshing! The twig leaders, MV and SV became my new best friends. At that point I was nick named the sponge because I couldn't seem to get enough of God's Word. I took the put away everything else you watch, listen to or read for 3 months rule quite seriously and then some. I was addicted, so to speak.

Things between Dave and I were steady so far and life seemed to be calming down for me finally. He moved in...before marriage mind you...which looking back on it now seems so strange to me in light of the direction we were going with God.

I ended up taking the power PFAL class in the midst of all of this. Now remember I was the sponge, but for some reason I was so full of fear it was crazy. I knew that at the end of the class I would be led into speaking in tongues. Oh my god was I scared. Although I had devoured Dr. W's books, deep down inside I still had the feeling of not being good enough for God to really want me as a child of his. Throughout the class, which was held in the basement of PS and SS's home, the fear continued to build. But even through all my fear, I couldn't stop going. I was mesmorized honestly. Looking back now I know it was a mixture of the word I was hearing but also by whom was teaching the class. Victor Barnard was his name and I had never met a person with such great presence in my life. I remember feeling like if I could just take in every word this man said that my life would never be the same. Well at least I got that right.

Final night of class, it was in the winter and I really didn't even know where I was location wise due to all the chatting on the way to classes. It began, breathe in and remember to move your lips to form the words. Your worry is not what you speak but just that you speak! You guessed it, I couldn't do it. I was devastated and so depressed. See I knew God didn't want me. Without a coat, not knowing where I was, I got up and ran out into the night.

How I got back into the house I don't remember but all I know was, I was in a little room with Victor and he was for the 1st time of many times getting me to do something I'd never thought I would or could do. He was very patient through all of my jibber jabbering about how he should just forget about me and go to everyone else. I didn't want to waste his time. But over and over again he reassured me of God's and his love for me and went through each step. I did it. I didn't know how, I didn't remember exactly what I said but he did verbatim. He grabbed my hand and we went flying into the other room, "spoke 5 words!" repeating what I guess I said. I was thrilled to no end. I was accepted by him the others by most of all by God. There was no stopping me now!

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Those are some of the most honest and real posts that I can recall reading at GSC Granddaughter.

Thank you for sharing so openly. :)

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Ok so here we go... I was accepted and I spoke in tongues to prove it! I threw myself headlong into everything. I ate, slept and breathed the word. Talk about climbing a ladder quickly. Dave and I became the twig leaders assistants. Life was going at a pace I never expected and honestly things were good for a while. SV and I ran a childrens fellowship in my apartment every week which I enjoyed greatly. MV and I or sometimes just myself would run childrens fellowships on Sunday mornings. Our twig was very sweet, we all seem to really care for one another and we even had fun. If it could have only stayed that way. :(

To this day I don't know what happened between Dave and I, I believe he was jealous so to speak. I don't think he expected me to rise up like I did but whatever the reason I rose and he descended. Our lives became quite the mess. It was like he lost all spark to him and there was no way I could help him. We began to fight about everything. There would be days on end that we wouldn't even talk. Our sex life became next to nil and that was the introduction to violence in our home.

I tried everything I could to be what I believed the word told me I should be. I cooked and cleaned constantly. I was always trying to do little things to show him my love, you know, love notes in the lunchbox, keeping myself as pretty as I could be, making sure everyone knew he was head no matter what, nothing worked. Deep inside I was so hurt because I thought if I could only.... but it only caused me to fall into depression. I kept it to myself for the longest time, believing it would all work out because with God on my side I couldn't lose. I was determined to make it all ok.

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Grand-daughter, this makes for painful reading and I know there is worse to come. But also there is so much better to come! :)

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Have you ever had a timewhen there was so much going on that you could hardly breathe, but strangely enough all those things were exactly what kept you going? That is what the few years in this section were like for me.

I have struggled with keeping all of this in some sort of order in my mind. (I have a sound mind, I have a sound mind) HAHA! Sorry, just a memory of something a room-mate and I would say to each other in passing while we struggled through our days.

I will probably jump around more now and have to return to sections so please bare with me if this is hard reading.

So ealier I shared how close I got to my twig leaders, M&SV. I began to open up to them a little about what was going on between Dave and I. I know it broke their hearts to find out what was going on in our home. So a midst the fellowships and elders meetings and raising children they tried to be a steady form of support. MV talked with Dave and SV was a consistant shoulder for me. Somewhere in all of this there was a time when we switched twigs which made me feel very alone in it all. Details and dates escape me so I won't touch on that now. So anyway, life went on. The fighting, the silence, the unbearable truth that everything I had hoped for was falling and crumbling around my feet.

SV shared with me that she finally took the situation to Victor Banard, the MOG. I was hoping that things would finally begin to change. Maybe there was help after all. Nothing, nothing and still nothing. I lost hope and came to the conclusion that this is what my life would look like until I took my last breath. But then I got the call....

If there were ever any words I thought could hurt me as much as when they said my Nathan was dead, it was what he, Victor Banard, the MOG would say to me at that moment.

"Well Dawn, you spread your legs to him, so now there is nothing you can do."

I was in complete shock! Now it is true that we were not married as of yet but before God I felt I was and what he said that day only confirmed those thoughts. Life went on as usaul...sigh...twig face...sigh...

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On October 28th 1992, I had another child. We named her Victoria after Victor Banard. (a name she hates now) (sorry Tori)

It's crazy how even after he said what he said to me, that I would name a child after him. Even stranger yet is how close Victor and I would become. But being who he was to me I was nothing but loyal . I felt like God had sent him to me and hard times and all I was blessed.

I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine. (yuck!)

I'm not exactly sure how this all came about but the church was going through a time when we were learning about personal prophesy. We were also told about this group or class, whatever you want to call it, called Momentus that we were all encouraged to take. After all is said and done I will just call it nasty.

Dave and I really had no choice in the matter. We were told that Victor would not marry us unless we took this class.

I know, I know, I'm sure you are wondering why I would ever want to marry him anyhow. But the vows I had taken in my heart before God were stronger than my desire for earthly happiness. I don't know chalk it up to stupidity? Insanity? To me I just wanted, desperately needed to be right before God. So off to the devil's playground we went.

Now I must back up here. If you know me at all then you would know that I am not one to bring attention to others faults without clearly stating my own. S I will not begin to do that now.

It so happened that Daves mom died and he had to travel to Canada to take care of her estate. Although the year prior we had had the baby and things had calmed down a bit because of her, I was still far from happy. Our relationship was still far from peaceful. So I did something I never though I would do.

I cheated...

It was a one night stand. It was a few fleeting moments of excitement and attention I so deeply craved. However, no excuses, it was wrong. I was wrong, and I was determined to never let it happen again and certainly to never let Dave find out about it.

I don't know if any of you have ever heard of or participated in Momentus, so I will tell you just a little of how I experienced it. As far as I recall it was only a short class, only four or five days, but it was all day and if you really put your heart into it pretty much all night as well due to homework we were given. It was centered around certain verses in Gods Word although twisted for their own purposes, just like anything that would or could suck a christian unawares. I know I could hardly think straight due to lack of sleep or food during the class. The music which seemed to never end was so loud and very disorientating. Every part of this class made you feel it was hard but it was exactly what you needed. The whole basis of this trap was in order to be free you needed to be completely honest.

So here I was trying to hide the biggest secret of my life and all the while feeling like the biggest sinner in the world. I was so full of fear that it would come out. As expected, it did. In the middle of this circle of people I hardly knew, I was like a fish out of water gasping for breath and trying to lie to save my foot. It didn't work. Like so many other things that should have never been uttered, my secret came out. Now don't get me wrong, I do not condone lying but in that place and time it was just another thing that should have not been said. I honestly believe that there was no real reason to speak this horrible truth. But as it was everyone was speaking things you would have never expected. It was I assert this I assert that, filling in the blanks with whatever they thought or felt about just about everything. This is just an example of what I was told.

"You were not my dream woman because you are not tall enough, your legs could be longer, you're not blonde oh and your boobs aren't big enough." Oh and also, "I often wonder what it would be like to sleep with Victor's wife." Hmm, makes you think about...

A fool uttereth all his mind.

But anyway, there I was ashamed, embarrassed and completely broken. Not knowing what to do, out the door I ran. I never wanted to return.

Lo and behold, like in the past, my friend, my beloved, the MOG came after me. Outside he begged me to return. He stated he didn't want to continue without me. I was his little one, he loved me, all was forgiven and together we would get through it together.

As I sit here writing this, I am in tears. I am so hurt going through all of these memories. To this day it hurts me and I miss the friendship I thought me and Victor once had.

To wrap up the Momentus period I will briefly tell you how it all turned out.

People forgot about love and graciousness along with mercy throughout the church. Everyone spoke their minds no matter who it hurt. The women rose up against their husbands and tenderness was a thing of the past.

As the weeks wore on the strain around our home became worse. Dave was mad. We fought alot. He hit me and something was new, I hit him back. One night, I can honestly say I don't remember why but we began fighting again. I won't go into great detail but it started on the couch and I tried to get away by running to our upstairs beroom. It didn't end. We fought and fought. He was nuts, his face looked different and he even sounded different. I don't think I had ever been so scared in my life as I was that night when he tried pushing me out the bedroom window. I remember crying out to God. Please don't let me die this way. I thought about my children. Who would take care of them? I somehow got out of his grasp and made it to the top of the stairs yelling the whole way. The next thing I knew was he was shoving me down them.

I don't know how I survived that night and surprisingly I wasn't even physically that hurt. Praise God!

So to end this bluntly. It turned out I had gotten pregnant from that one moment of stupidness and to save my marriage I had an abortion and added one more thing that I would not speak of again unless I was forced to.

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This is very painful and difficult for you, Dawn.

Please be aware that anyone can read this forum - friends, enemies, those who would help you, those who would hurt you. Dave, Victor, perhaps!

I'm sorry you were so abused. You were not alone. Unfortunately this outrageous treatment of women didn't start with Dave or VB and didn't end with them either. Some women have been threatened with firearms, others physically assaulted needing hospital treatment. I'm not belittling your experience: it was endemic through TWI and its offshoots. You didn't do anything to deserve it - it is not your fault.

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In general Twinky,

As somebody who has known the group in which Grand Daughter was abused by the minister and her husband I think it is fair to say that they both would never take up these issues out here in broad daylight for the possible benefit of others as Dawn has here. And the ministry normal was to very carefully only pick on folks who are totally in their control, like Victor did by letting Dave apologize to Victor for falling asleep during one of his sharings, and totally skipping over the fact that Victor spit on him when he saw Dave asleep.

So Dave has actually learned from Victor how to carefully hide his abusive instincts until he can get away with those actions. For Dave I still pray that he can come to his senses somehow, but he has been under Victor's abusive thumb for a freakin long time when he should have been seeking competant help for his personal issues, so I am not sure that Dave can even still find his way out....sigh.

But personally, if either of them came at Dawn like that I would prefer to call the police first, but then take a very keen personal intrest in how those two cowards dealt with Dawn until the police arrived. And while Dawn has had to deal with a lot of dang on her own, I kinda wish that I could be there to go face to face with them both for a bit.

But Barnard would only allow such a situation to happen when he felt totally in control, he's a very intelligent bastard that way. And having me there would very likely make him face the possibility that he would no longer be in control.

(edited for spelling)

Edited by JeffSjo
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Jeff (and Dawn) - it's amazing how many of these violent bullies smile in public, and then, behind closed doors, beat up on weaker victims (usually wives) when they get home or behind closed doors, and then maybe say, "Look what YOU made me do!" They retain self-control at the time of an alleged misdemeanor, stew on it some, then let the violence explode in secret.

I'd like to see some of these bullies accused of, say pedophilia or some other false allegation, and then put in a room with some big prison bruisers armed with minor weapons like jug cords, bike chains and so on. The bullies would be the first to call "foul!" :realmad:

(Well...I don't really wish ill to anyone. I just wish they'd come to their senses and start behaving like decent human beings.)

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Grand daughter, please be comforted in knowing that so many here (and sadly too many other places) understand your story and have experienced such similiar abuse.

You have support. I hope that can ease your heart as you continue to share your story, continue to heal in the area of pain and question and continue to remember that you're not alone. Truly.

The best part of telling a story is that it's your story, no one else's, even if we can relate. It's yours. I look forward to more of the telling.

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