For the lips of a woman who is a stranger drop honey, her mouth is smoother than oil; but in the end she is as bitter as wormwood, sharp as a double-edged sword. Her feet go down to death, her steps lead straight to Sh’ol; she doesn’t walk the level path of life -her course wanders all over, but she doesn’t know it.”
Proverbs 4:3-5

You have heard of her and so have I. The Scriptures warn men about the strange woman and nothing good is said about her. I know this woman all too well because two years ago, I was her. I was the woman that the Scriptures so adamantly told men to stay away from. At only 17 I have not had many years to “be bad” as the world puts it, but I have had enough time to be bad enough. I come from a broken home. My parents divorced when I was just three years old. For years I thought it was my fault: that maybe if I had been good, maybe if I could love them enough, they would still be together. Satan put these negative thoughts in my head and I just ran with them. My biological dad left and I didn’t see him again until I was eight. He is a heavy alcoholic and he was the first one to give me my first drink. My mom married my wonderful step dad when I was five. Yah was so very gracious to give me him. My older sister and I needed fatherly love more than we knew. I have struggled with depression for as long as I can remember. One moment I would be all smiles and the next teary eyed and suicidal. Every day was a roller coaster for me and those around me. Growing up my mom and I never had a good relationship with each other. In fact we down right hated each other. She could not deal with “crazy” me and I could not even be around her.

I was introduced to feminism at public school in the 7th grade. I immediately embraced the thought that I needed nobody. That I, as a woman, was just as strong as a man in any way, shape, or form. I could stand for myself and needed no man to protect me. Even though this mind set was everything that I thought that I needed, I still felt the need to be loved and accepted. I looked for love in all of the wrong places. I had boyfriend and boyfriend and still the piece wasn’t filled. I started drinking every other weekend while I was at my dad’s house. I felt the acceptance but still there was no love. The years of 2008-2009 were rough for my family and I. I was suicidal and I was in deep depression. I would paste on a smile for everyone at fellowship and at home, but I would lay awake at night planning every single detail of my last day on earth. I knew that I could not kill myself at my mom’s house, because what would happened if one of my 8 brothers and sisters found me. I decided that I was going to move in with my dad so that I could do it. The court date was set for May 23, 2009 and I was going to kill myself that night. This whole time I was a professing “Believer.” I have since apologized to my old youth group my hypocrisy. I would council my friends when they had problems. I would down pickle juice in the fellowship parking lot to hide the smell of alcohol and cigarettes on my breath.

We had just met a true Believing family that had visited our church. Something was different about them. Their older boys wouldn’t even look at me so that I could talk to them. Their girls were dressed weird in skirts and they had these things on their head. I will never forget the first time they walked into our fellowship. I immediately felt the need to cover myself up. My cheeks still turn red at the thought about how I used to dress. They seemed content with Yah. I was immediately drawn to them. I wanted to know more about why they dressed that way, what they believed, and why they were so different. When the family heard about my decision to move out, they saw right through my plan. They knew what I was going to do; they knew that I was lost. They offered to counsel me and I reluctantly agreed.

The Father saved my spirit during the counseling sessions. I shut down the plans to move in with my dad and on May 23, 2009 I was surrounded by the people I loved: silently rejoicing the fact that I was still here. My walk with God has not been perfect. I still fail and fall daily flat on my face. The Father has shown me what a true feminine woman is. I started wearing skirts around four months after my conversion and the head covering came around two months later. The Father freed me from my struggle with depression and my addiction to alcohol and cigarettes. I don’t understand why he saved me; I deserve to go to an everlasting punishment when I leave this earth. He loved me. Filthy, dirty, disgusting me: he died for me. After searching for love in all of the wrong places he gave me an everlasting love that I can’t explain. There is no human word that describes the tender, affectionate, self-sacrificing, pure love that my Savior gives me. Yah has blessed me with a Believing home to live in. My mom and my step dad were both saved long before I was and they are teaching the children how to live for the Father every day. As for now I can truly say without YHWH I would be dead.

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