We are continuing to enjoy revival in Leicester. People saved. People healed. The church growing. Amazing worship. And a loving God.
If you were to attend Chroma Church on any given Sunday or Revival Prayer on a Tuesday, you would more than likely see Karen there – at the front, worshipping for all she is worth. This is her story:
I was born in 1962. My mum was sixteen and was raped by my father. Abortion was not legal at that time, so I became the bastard, the unwanted bundle of shame rather than joy.
I became the small, abused child, neglected and rejected by a broken alcoholic mum and her violent partners. I became the small child who tried so hard to micro-manage the dysfunctional adults in her life. I became the child spat at in the street because of her Irish heritage.
I became the child whose mother was drunk and in so much pain that one night that she tried to kill her child with a knife. I became the child who always slept with a cupboard pushed against her bedroom door whenever her mum was drunk or depressed.
I became the child bullied verbally and physically at school by her peers and by the teachers. I became a rebellious teenager.
I became the teenager who tried to find Jesus but found that the church doors were closed to her.
I became the teenager who dreamt of a handsome prince rescuing her and living happily ever after. I became the sixteen-year-old who was raped by the man she thought loved her.
I became the woman who gave her body away so nobody could forcibly take it again. I became the woman who chose toxic, violent relationships. I became the woman who had children out of wedlock. I became the woman living in poverty. I became the woman who turned to prostitution to clothe her children.
I became the woman who had an abortion but was screaming
inside for someone to stop her. I became the woman who lived in the pain and
regret of that decision.
I was the hopeless woman. The broken woman, the one you would walk past, the one lying in the street.
I was the prodigal; I was the lost sheep. I was the bruised reed.
The Bible says ‘A bruised reed He will not break and a smouldering wick He will not extinguish. He will faithfully bring forth justice.’
He did. Jesus stopped for the one.
He stopped for me. He met me in my mess. He lifted me up, out of the gutter, out of the shame. He patiently walks with me towards eternity.
I am the woman at the well – I will speak of my Saviour forever.
I am the woman caught in adultery – I will sin no more.
I am the demon possessed Mary – Now I am pure, walking in freedom.
I am David – I will worship my King, undignified and wild.
I am a daughter of The Most High – righteous, justified, blessed, forgiven, chosen and sent.
I am His. I am who God intended me to be. I am free. The pain and shame; gone forever.
Now I look for the one. For the one stuck in their mess, trapped in sin and circumstances, dirty and angry.
I look for the one. Because when they meet Him, He will meet them. And they will be changed. Forever.
