I am a 31year old writer and entrepreneur.
I have been a practicing Christian since I was 12 years old and about to commit suicide. I had been chronically depressed for several years due incestuous abuse between ages of 6 and 8. My aunt found me before I kicked the bucket and I was taken to a born-again relative who led me to confess Christ as my Lord and saviour. I remember thinking to myself, “So this is what Joy feels like.” It was that foreign an emotion to me.
The testimony I would like to share is about how the trend to be cool in church is leading youth astray. At University I started to date the hottest guy at the most popular church in my country. Even though we professed Christ he saw no problem with sleeping with me. My conscience was never at rest but I did it because I believed we would stay together for the rest of our lives so why not?
Well, in the about 3 years we dated I got pregnant 3 times and whereas I remember being overjoyed the first time he said my parents would not take it well and that I should abort for their sakes and continue with my studies.
And because I was afraid to lose him I did so.
Well, pity because either way we did not end up together forever. Somehow God never gave up on calling me back to the right path and one day He literally commanded me to pack up what belongings I had at my boyfriend’s house and go back home. (Yes I hear from Him-called in the prophetic). God warned me to never look back-that either I choose holiness or Hell. I obeyed but years later I still found myself dating a guy whom I was in love with but the Lord clearly told me that it wasn’t His will and wouldn’t work out. I ended up pregnant, euphoric only to be dragged to an abortion clinic again. His reason was that his Muslim family would tear him apart and still insist on raising the child in Islam.
Four times was more heart-wrenching than I can explain. I do not know how to tell people that are quick to condemn girls who make these decisions then later regret them that they are demonically influenced other than that, that last time God allowed me to see them-the blood-thirsty demons.
Before I agreed to my boyfriend’s insistence on the abortion (and I had been adamantly saying no for days or so) I saw a swarm of very many little fly-like demons form a darkness around me(in broad daylight).I felt such Satanic oppression and just knew I was going to make the wrong decision. A part of me wanted to run and tell my Mom what I was about to do so she could save me but I was bound; powerless. Girls, please, please, speak up! Do not let the enemy take away your voice.
The entire drive to the clinic I could feel the demons around me. And when the act was done I was overwhelmed with an anger from knowing I let the Devil win again. In the weeks that followed my only prayer was for God to take my life. I was not worth His breath, I felt.
But hey-it’s not all grim and sorrow. I have since confessed every detail of each of these abortions, repented and received forgiveness. It doesn’t mean the wound on my soul is healed yet but I know I am forgiven. On two occasions the Lord has even showed me my unborn babies in open visions. They are in Heaven-grown to toddler size at the time I saw them. I remember one-the eldest- saying to me, ‘Mummy we are fine’. I cried uncontrollably. I could barely take in what manner of love is God’s to be so so forgiving of the hypocritical Christian I had been.
I share this to encourage ladies who still want to pursue God despite sexual sin in their past-it IS possible. Get your house cleansed thoroughly, undergo full deliverance from demonic oppression otherwise you will remain in the same cycle, live a life WHOLLY obedient to the Word of God and oh, the glory of God in your life can be limitless.
I asked God for a chance to have a baby again despite feelings of unworthiness. I specifically asked for a boy. In September last year I gave birth to one, in wedlock moreover. Watching him play, I said, ‘Oh Hannah, how can you NOT testify!’ GOD STILL FORGIVES. You can still be HOLY for Him. Do not give up.