At one point in my life, I lost God. I was so angry that I just shoved him to the side and had full intent in never looking back.

I grew up in and out of church. My parents did a good job of making sure that we heard the preacher make his spill on Sunday mornings; that is if we weren't at the ball park that weekend. As I got older, travel softball became a priority; it was my ticket to college and it being paid for. We traveled all across the country to play the top teams in the nation - and might I add beat them. It wasn't until my last two years of high school that I started observing my father (who was also the coach). He used to display anger and hard work ethic at all time; but he had transformed into a God- loving man, a man that held devotionals on Sunday at the ball park, and never missed a service unless he had to. Saying all of this, I always heard The Word of God and knew He existed, but never took ownership of having my own relationship with Him.

College softball became reality for me very quickly; I started to receive looks and offers at an early age compared to others. I was living in my own dream, playing Division 1 college softball, majoring in Education, and thriving in my social life. Life couldn't have gotten any better for me. Days pass, months even, I find myself in a predicament that I can't seem to escape. I had always read stories about Domestic Violence cases but never pictured myself in one of my own. I ignored every single sign or red flag (as my mother called them) that was put in front of me; I even threw my family behind me. My mother had warned me about boys like this because she had been there before herself. He took over every aspect of my life until all that existed was him. Idiot, I know; Hindsight is always 20/20.

The girl in that photo, the one at the top; had become a distant person, one that lived in fear of physical harm. Emotionally and mentally I was already drowning, blaming myself for the things that were happening to me; repetitively asking God, "WHY ME?" "WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS?" I was lost and out of hope for the future. I had given up on any different life than what already seemed like a dictatorship.

Eventually, I threw the thought of God away. I was angry with Him because I couldn't understand His logic in allowing that hurt to overwhelm my body and mind. I had asked Him to help me so many times and help never came my way.

Two years of this hurt took place. I was so angry that I was ignoring the signs of help that God was placing in front of me. He had (more than once) placed one of my teammates right in front of me; a warm, smiling friend. She always asked me about my days and I always responded with short replies, "Good, yours?" Every single week (for almost a year) she had asked me to come to her Bible study group at her home; I said, "Maybe next time" one too many times. She kept asking and asking until finally I caved and said, "Sure" just so she'd stop. I had no interest in making connections with people or even showing up for that matter; but I did anyways. I knew that she would ask me if everything was okay the next day at practice - I really didn't want to deal with that.

When I walked into her living room that night, there was no judgement from anyone about my swollen face from crying or the bruise around my arm. They simply introduced themselves and smiled with warmth and love - most of them even hugged me out of my own discomfort. I had never felt more welcomed than I did in that living room full of strangers.

The Pastor that night was speaking of God's love and what it looks like (what it feels like). He simplified the love of God in words that were comprehendable for anyone that was remotely listening. When he was describing what God's love feels like, I wanted to feel it too. I had been longing for a love like that for years. I fought the tears through the 30 minute spill and went outside where I could escape the humility within me. I had never listened so closely before; my ears couldn't turn the words away from my heart. It was almost like he was speaking directly at me... for me. I waited outside on the front steps for the Youth Pastor to walk out to leave. He was one of the last people to come through that door and when he looked at me it was like he knew what I was wanting to scream into the air. He sat down beside me and said, "Tell me about yourself." I proceeded to talk about softball and what I wanted to be after college. He quickly stopped me and said, "No, who are you in Christ's eyes?"

That was the million dollar question that brought tears to my eyes. I didn't identify through Christ. I knew that I needed to, but I didn't know where to even begin. I had lost all sense of faith. I had hit my rock bottom, with nowhere else to look but up. I had never opened up to anyone regarding the life that I was stuck in; I was scared to. I felt like he already knew because of the physical markings that only a trained eye would take notice to.

It wasn't long after that I found myself in a pool of water in front of the church getting baptized. I didn't know a lot of the people there that night - but they looked so happy to be there for the event. The hardest step was asking for help; I was uneasy and full of fear. I had no clue how to even begin my relationship with Christ. I often wondered would he forgive me for throwing him out of my life. I didn't know how it would work or if people would even accept my story - my past. It wasn't until later that I realized the devil had almost won.

I guess in saying all of this, it is a challenge to all of the believers out there - be that one friend that doesn't quit asking. If I hadn't had that one teammate, I don't think I would have survived the predicament that I was in. I would have broke. Show up for strangers because that is what Christ wants us to do. Be an example of good in the world. Show just one person every day, that you won't ever stop asking or pushing them towards a life with Jesus Christ.