Hayley Story : Redeemed From a Life of Pain to a Life of Purpose
I grew up feeling different—starved for love and longing to be truly heard. From the age of five, I was neglected, left in the care of my underage brother, who would often grow frustrated when I cried.
My father was a distant figure, a man with three wives. Growing up in a polygamous family was a constant struggle, as each wife fought to provide for her own children. I was the youngest of my mother’s nine, and our circumstances were harsh.
Socio-cultural taboos made it worse—my mother was forbidden from being seen with me because my older siblings already had children of their own. I carried the crushing belief that I was unwanted, unloved. I have no memory of ever being hugged as a child.
My teenage years only deepened the pain. Desperate for acceptance, I sought it in the wrong places—older men who turned out to be predators. I was sexually abused by neighbors and schoolteachers, and the abuse continued for years. With every violation, shame and worthlessness consumed me. My twisted coping mechanism? Telling myself that at least someone paid me attention.
When I later lived with my older sister—a survivor of an abusive marriage, divorced who turned to alcohol —my despair grew darker. Trapped in my own mind, I attempted suicide twice. As a lost teenager, I believed ending the pain was easier than surviving it.
Those were years of dark moments — trapped between the agony of rape, mental torment, and physical abuse. The weight of rejection left me disoriented, drowning in confusion. I knew of God, but I was convinced He had no interest in a girl like me—one who’d been used by men, who carried nothing but shame. Why would He listen to my prayers? Why would I even ask for forgiveness? So I didn’t.
Instead, I let the lies fester: You are ruined. You deserve this. Bitterness and self-loathing became my identity. I vowed never to marry or have children; love was a myth, and I was unworthy of it anyway.
As a young adult, my hunger for acceptance led me to break my vow, which resulted in an early marriage—one marked by abuse from the very beginning. At 27, I became a Christian, but my past still had its claws in me. I wore a mask of happiness, pretending I was whole, while inside, the wounds still bled. I told myself, This is just how life is. It could be worse. But faith without healing is just another prison.
For nineteen long years, I clung to my abusive marriage, convincing myself God would miraculously fix it. I'd been taught divorce was unforgivable - no matter the cost. As a young Christian, I was naive in my understanding of Scripture, letting others interpret God's will for me.
It wasn't until my early 40s, as a mother of three, that I truly began understanding the Holy Spirit's work. Through deep prayer for my children and immersion in Ecclesiastes and John (especially John 1:1 revealing God's eternal, unconditional love), my spiritual eyes opened.
I intellectually grasped forgiveness's importance, but living it proved far harder. For years I told myself I'd forgiven my abusers, but after finally leaving my marriage, the unresolved pain erupted. Anger turned inward - how could I have tolerated such pain and disrespect for decades?
Cultural stigma kept me from therapy for over 30 years. Talking about emotional, psychological or sexual abuse was strictly taboo. Well-meaning loved ones and pastors urged more prayer, and while their intentions were good, the relief was temporary. Triggers would ambush me, bringing crushing depressive episodes and violent mood swings.
The compounding trauma - an abusive childhood, nearly two decades of marital terror, repeated toxic relationships - left me convinced I'd never be whole. Then a compassionate friend helped me realize: I needed professional (faith-based) help no amount of prayer alone could provide.
A Divine Appointment for Healing
When I first came to faith-based counseling, I didn’t realize God was leading me into a sacred journey of restoration—one where His Word would become my medicine and the Holy Spirit, my Counselor. Before this, therapy had only masked my pain, like covering a wound without treating the infection beneath. But here, the Lord began a deeper work.
From the very first session, I sensed this was different. Dr. Cherlene didn’t just listen—she helped me trace my wounds back to their roots and surrender them to Christ. Through Scripture, prayer, and the Spirit’s gentle conviction, God dismantled the lies I’d believed for decades:
That I was too broken to be loved
That forgiveness meant excusing abuse
That my pain disqualified me from His purpose
Instead, He revealed the truth: I was chosen, redeemed, and called (1 Peter 2:9). The more I immersed myself in His Word—especially passages like John 1:1 and Psalm 34:18—the more my mind and heart aligned with His healing grace.
Forgiveness, once an impossible burden, became a release—not because what happened was okay, but because Christ’s sacrifice covered it all. The Holy Spirit rewired my thoughts, replacing shame with His identity for me. And as I learned to walk in daily surrender, I discovered something miraculous:
My pain became my ministry.
The very things Satan meant to destroy me—abuse, abandonment, self-hatred—God transformed into tools of compassion. Now, when I share my story, it’s not with bitterness, but with awe at how deeply Christ restores. The journey isn’t over, but I’m no longer afraid of the process. Every day, I’m learning what it means to "put off the old self" and "be renewed in the spirit of [my] mind" (Ephesians 4:22-23).
This wasn’t just counseling—it was holy ground. A place where God proved His promise: "I will give you back your health and heal your wounds" (Jeremiah 30:17).
A Testament of God’s Redeeming Power
Today, I can truly say I’ve forgiven those who hurt me. When memories surface, they no longer carry the sting of anger, shame, or worthlessness—because the Holy Spirit has transformed my pain into purpose. Like Joseph, I now see how what was meant for evil, God has used for good (Genesis 50:20).
This freedom has become my ministry. I now walk alongside survivors of domestic abuse, offering them the same hope Christ gave me. Through community workshops, I help break the silence around trauma—especially in migrant communities where cultural taboos often bury suffering in shame.
My healing journey continues daily. Some moments are still hard—hearing stories that mirror my past can stir old wounds. But where I once felt triggered, I now feel called. The Holy Spirit reminds me that my walk with Him isn’t occasional; it’s a moment-by-moment reliance on His truth. Each morning, His mercies renew me (Lamentations 3:22-23), and His Word reshapes my mind (Romans 12:2).
I’m deeply grateful for this faith-based counseling. The tools I gained weren’t just strategies—they were spiritual lifelines. God used this program to show me how deeply He works through His people.
While some who hurt me are no longer here to confront, I’ve found peace in leaving justice to God. My relationships—especially with my mother and children—are being restored as I lean into this truth: I am fully known, fully loved, and daily being made new. His grace isn’t just sufficient—it overflows.
Dr. Cherlene, thank you for being God's instrument in my healing journey. Your Spirit-led guidance and biblical wisdom have walked me through valleys of pain into fields of restoration. You didn't just counsel me - you helped me encounter Christ in my brokenness and discover my true identity in Him.
This transformation wasn't our work, but God's miraculous grace. As Psalm 115:1 declares, 'Not to us, Lord, but to Your name be the glory.' Every breakthrough, every moment of clarity, every step toward wholeness testifies to His power to redeem what was lost.
Through your ministry, I've learned that healing isn't a destination, but a sacred journey with our Savior. Thank you for pointing me always to the One who 'restores my soul' (Psalm 23:3). To our faithful God - the mender of broken hearts and maker of new beginnings - be all honor and praise. Amen.
