Survival Story

Forgiveness breaks the cycle of pain and victimhood we’ve been carrying and frees us emotionally from the person who’s hurt us. Rooting out unforgiveness leaves room for joy in new experiences.

You can’t choose the tragedy you’ll face, but you can choose how you heal. In times of suffering, we tend to try and heal ourselves, then wonder if God is still there.

On February 6, 2001, my life changed forever. I would never think the same, live the same, talk the same, laugh the same, and definitely never love the same. On that day, my 23-month-old daughter, Darrian, was murdered at the hands of a caregiver.

In 2006, at the ripe age of 49-years-old, I earned my degree and thus started my teaching career. I had tried several times, at six different colleges or universities, but to no avail. I thought I was a failure at higher education, but my God is greater than any failure. I learned, through one of my professors …

I watched my beloved fiancé, Brian, pass away on November 29, 2016 at 5:02 p.m. The very last words he spoke to me were, “I love you, my Suz, and if it isn’t meant for me to stay, just trust that God has a reason.”  

Getting free is one thing. Staying free is another. When some people are asked, “What is your biggest fear?” Many answer spiders, snakes, or heights. My biggest fear was relapse.

I would pad myself with as many little shirts, and as many little pairs of panties as I could and wait—terrified of the silence. You see, I knew what the silence meant. It meant he was coming for me.

Dehydration can cause some crazy side effects, but I came to discover during my illness that God was teaching me something anew. As I look back, I can only credit this life-changing event to the movement of the Holy Spirit.

I no longer knew “normal.” After-school snacks, regular meals, and family time were things of the past.

My mother died from a perforated ulcer that resulted in blood poisoning. I was twelve-years old at the time. From the time of the incident (when she entered the hospital in an ambulance) until her death was a matter of about two weeks. She was thirty-eight-years old at the time.

Prior to her death, my family was pretty normal.

It was a really dark time and place in my life—even though I brought it on myself. I was entangled in a sexual relationship with a married man, and no desire to get out. I thought I loved this person, but looking back, I think I just wanted to “win” him.