I chose very early on that I wanted to maintain this unique and private relationship with God that I had. I had survived so many situations that I should not have, so it was hard to ignore something much larger than just the world I could see or feel exists. I had had an intentional overdose and awoke to police sad for me and trying to help me instead of arresting me. I had survived being pistol whipped and shot at. I had survived being jumped and beaten by many “Johns” and even other women. I had survived sepsis twice. And somehow even after I was starved, intentionally dehydrated to break my will into submission, God opened a door to escape a prison many in this country will never know—sex trafficking and slavery.
During those days I had also spent many Sunday morning and afternoons even in prostitution and addiction in an alley behind a church. I hid back there so no one but God could see me, and so I could at least hear the hum of the hymns. In the summer it was nice because they would open the windows and I could occasionally catch a reading or two. On at least more than one occasion during Living in Liberty’s street outreach the women somehow found me back there and would pray so fervently around me. On one occasion I was actually arrested in the exact spot where the women had prayed around me just the day before. There was just too much in my life, even in the darkest of days for me to ignore a Lord so loving, always whispering His love for me and Will of my survival.