“The Lord is my Shepard – I lack nothing.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me besides the still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me to paths of righteousness.”

He makes me. He leads me. He restores me.

There was no other way. Every day and especially come night, I had a relationship with God – he came in to protect me. When I think of my childhood I think of my Mother. She had an energy about her that gave me safety. Even when her environment was unsafe, my Mother didn’t allow fear to cross her. Gods protection reminded me of my Mom, but I knew with Gods protection that it wasn’t just me that was kept safe, it was both her and I, my sister, my Father, everyone surrounding me – which made my relationship with God a priority. It’s as if he came to me and I surrendered. I knew that all would be okay as long as I followed this feeling and trusted a higher form of care. As a kid our relationship felt like the greatest, private tale of all time, yet it was real. It was existing, sometimes a gut feeling – I didn’t know precisely what this love was, but I knew I would never move in the opposite direction. And it carried me all the way to the next chapters of my life. When I think of my life and the testimony that belongs to me, there is not a certain moment that was a defining moment. My testimony has lived within me since I came to understand the safety that followed after I allowed God to take care of my family and I. Prayer would blossom out of me. I wasn’t taken to church religiously, but my mind understood the beautiful, miraculous wonders that something much larger had to of been the Creator. I wasn’t religious in terms of following a set of rules but I had an undeniable, personal relationship that I embrace to this day. Spirituality is my movement. Everyone around me knew that my experiences were outside the ordinary for a child my age, I grew up fast. I had no other choice, the same way God came in and took care of my life. Our safety. He made me lay down, rest, and realize he was the only one who could restore all of the hurt, fight and confusion.

My mom received a phone call, I heard the detective on the other line tell her to turn around, they found him. “Where is he?” My Mother asked. The detective responded and told her he would speak to her in person. I pushed my head into the seat and prayed the hardest I’ve ever prayed in my life. In that moment I felt the presence of God surround my being. It was clarification, understanding and knowing that the feeling I’ve been feeling, came over my body in full. I was no longer having just a taste of what my relationship was, I became fulfilled. I prayed so hard I could barely breathe. It was my initial reaction, to speak to God. To let him know that I am here. I am with him. He let me know he was with me.

“Please. Let him be okay.” I whispered. I would soon find out that he was. He was no longer in pain. No longer addicted. No longer fighting control. As I prayed, I felt as if my Dad was taking my hair, tucking it behind my ear, rocking me back and forth, telling me, “I am okay. And you will be too. Your mom. Your sister. The days to come. The man who will fill in. I am not far, I am here with you. I hear you, not in the way I used to. But you are all knowing and you will never go a day without my attention.”

The rest of the night is a blur. It could have been the tears covering my eyes or the sound of the scream I heard from my Mom when the detective told her they found my father dead. I stayed in the car when she went in to have the conversation. Looking at my sister in her car seat I wondered how this could be. Tears fell from my face, my sister in my arms. This was now my battlefield. His hurt is gone and ours will worsen for some time. But because God is with me, I will never fail, the pain will not last, understanding will come over my heart, it will take years but it will come. I will never lose sight of the proof that we have a protective God. My fathers death was a grudge that I held for awhile. Sadness turned into anger and anger turned into anxiety.

I fought to forgive my Father for all he has missed and all he will miss out on, for the love I poured from my small being, feeling as if I could have done better… Wishing I would have done more… I forgave him. For making my Mother a warrior, not because she wanted to be but because she had to be, she was a survivor while sometimes feeling like she was losing. I forgave him for leaving. He left me with the most powerful lesson. He didn’t leave me empty handed and I often wonder if he as well, had a relation with God that offered pure peace. It took me a long time to realize this. He introduced the purest, most powerful love. And this is where my strength comes from, the relationship I had with God as a young age. It wasn’t because of the experiences I went through but because of the faith my small being had. Sometimes we go through ultimate darkness so we are made to kneel down, to have one choice but to give ourselves to the one who holds reason and I made the choice to do so. Even when it didn’t make sense, it does now. And I understand that I have been encountering God in special ways ever since.

With arms wide open and a broken heart, anger in my soul, misunderstanding when happiness was present, unknowingly defending all pain, carefully taking myself out of joyful situations because it felt too good to be true, I remembered that this is not what God would want for me. And most certainly not my Father, who wished with his entire being – to give me the very best. I not only forgave my Dad. I forgave myself and let the weights drift from my shoulders. I let go and let God in, again, again and again. And each time I would find that same feeling of guidance, fulfillment, a sense that I was being waited for. Restoration occurred and I am now the woman I am today because of the witness I grew up to be. There is no other way, there is no other choice, God is the center of my life, and the reason as to why the gospel I take in is so moving.

I pray that those who have their own testimony share their voice with others. I pray that those receiving, dance to the gospel.

I pray that those who have not had the opportunity to experience such a relationship, open their hearts and realize the rest will follow.

Trust in this.

The rest will follow.

-Sadianne Joyce

“It takes courage to give voice to what we experience, the way a coyote howls: not just out of hunger, but out of visceral joy at being a part of the infinite secret revealed. In this way, we’re angels wrapped in skin and fur, racing through thicket after thicket because we sense what can’t be seen all around us.” -M. Nepo