The home I grew up in was filled with chaos and violence. Both of my parents were abusive. The physical wounds heal, but the emotional pain just scars over.

As I grew into my teenage years, I became angry and withdrawn at home. I couldn’t show my anger, so I held it inside. At school, I was the happy kid who was friends with everyone. No one knew the pain I carried inside.

In my young mind I believed God was punishing me. I understood punishment because that was the world I lived in. But I had no idea what God was punishing me for. Had I known what I had done I would have corrected it. And He wasn’t telling me.

Only much later on did I learn the character of God. He wasn’t punishing me. In fact, everything I felt, every hurt, every pain and every sense of hopelessness, God felt that way alongside me. He was giving me a story that I could share which would bring hope to others who grew up the same way. For this, I am grateful.

Today, I spend a good amount of time in prisons, sharing my story while focusing on the power of forgiveness. My volunteer work gives me a great amount of fulfillment. My story is relatable, and it has given the inmates hope.

Everything can be used for good. God has given you a story. I encourage you to use yours, too…