Seeking Truth but Finding bondage….my testimony on being a slave

I was standing in front of my mother’s apartments staring at them and it was as if  God was speaking to me in that still small voice….which I thought were my thoughts.  The voice said, “You know, if you continue this way…the way you’ve been living you will die and your end will be hell.”  I was about fourteen….had just gotten out of our enlavement to mammas second husband and if she didn’t get married again….to an Iranian man who was just looking for his citizenship.  We were like…”Ah!  mamma, no….not again!!!!”  I also had learned how to cook pot and make my own smoking stuff from my step Dad and could spot a plant on the side of the rode from a long distance….and I did one day.  But I only did that once.  What I was mainly doing was sneaking out at night with my friend and going and getting drunk and hanging out with guys a lot older than me.

I usually sat alone at the Jr. High school, and unexpectedly one day a sweet Christian girl tried to befriend me, I remember.  She said my name softly, kindly, like the Lord would. Walking home from school one day I bullied her in order to gain popularity and ended up calling someone’s Mom the B word.  Well, the son of that Mom sent the two meanest girls in school after me not only to beat my butt, but to kill me.  So I had to get out of town quickly.  It wasn’t safe walking home from school anymore.  About this time also I started wanting to go to church and started attending church with Mom….I wasn’t “saved” yet just starting to head that way.

I remember thinking to myself one day how nice it would be to get out of Mammas house because it wasn’t a home and go live with my cousins.  About that time unexpectedly my cousin D. called and suggested that I come to live with her out of the blue.  Mom told me if I went to live with them I couldn’t ask for anything.

About two weeks later I was headed for New Mexico with my cousins D. and J.   I loved the trip ….all the barrenness of West Ft. Worth….love the mountains of New Mexico.  It’s kind of like ocean beauty….sometimes you have to look closely to find the hidden beauty.

It was an eight hour trip from the DFW to Carlsbad N.Mexico.  I arrived excited and tired and eager for my new adventure.

The next day D. showed me how she liked all the chores to be done and how she wanted the laundry folded.  I thought we would work together here on out , but she didn’t work with me….she was preparing me to be her slave….her unpaid servant.  So I wasn’t part of the family, not a “daughter” like they told everyone at church….but her personal maid/slave.   All I got was food and a place to sleep.   I was forced to call my cousin/legal guardian Mrs. (and her last name).  She said it was because everyone at church and the school associated with the church….all the students called her this way and I must too.  So my cousin, and my familiar friend became my mistress and I her slave.

She wanted the dishes done and the bed made before I left for school, it couldn’t wait until after school.  I had all the dishes to do after evening meal and the whole house to clean on Saturdays as well as all the laundry (fold , hang up, and put away).  I did *all* the housework plus I cared for the children when she worked or when they decided to go out to eat, which they did often.  The only money I had was when I kept the children at the church while the staff went on visitation.  I was told I could use my church child care money to pay for panty hose.  When I did ask for any money I got balled out.   If I got an attitude I got a beating for it.

My Jr. year maybe in the summer I kept her two daughters, one of them a baby, the whole summer and didn’t get a dime for it.  I guess they thought room and board was enough?  However, I liked it better than living with Mom.  They had problems, but it was more of a home than what Mamma provided.

When I was about eighteen D. and T. separated (never mind why)  At the same time D was trying to decide whether to go to Ft. Worth to live again (we were in Oregon) .  I had the choice of going to Hyles-Anderson college or getting on the plane with D. to continue in this type of slavery.  I chose Hyles-Anderson college, thinking that the time of my bondage had ended, but it did’t….I continued in another type of bondage……

At Hyles-Anderson they were very strict or legalistic.  The women could not wear blue jean skirts except to aerobics for example….the rest of the time it had to be skirts or dresses.  We were not allowed off campus…not even to work because we couldn’t be trusted and they didn’t want us to upset the reputation of the school had we slipped up and sinned so they kept us all there.  There was a nightly check with a flash light to make sure no one had run off in the night.  I’m guessing some parents demanded that their young adults went there and no where else.  Sometimes people would escape and run off during the night I guess thwarting their parents plans to keep them in a “safe” college.

Us not being allowed to work off campus created yet another problem:  we couldn’t pay our school bills.  My thoughts are if students are so untrustworthy why allow them to leave home to begin with?  You can’t *make* a person obey if its not from the heart it is not true obedience anyway.

The work we were allowed to do was on the campus only, for which we received no wages….we were only payed about half of minimum wage and all of it went to pay for room and board, nothing left over.  I had no money for soap, to wash my clothing, tooth paste, feminine products.  I don’t know how I made it those two years.

Every once in a while the founder of the college, Dr. Jack Hyles, would throw the female students a party and it was the highlight….the most exciting time of being at Hyles-Anderson .  But it was still lonely.  It was lonely because I only knew the Lord in name only….I did not really know him, and it was hard for me to believe that God loved me in those days because I did not understand salvation.  I thought one was saved because we called, and that was what this college taught, but there is a whole lot more to it than that.

After two years of this I decided it wasn’t for me…..I was tired of their legalism, tired of sitting alone almost every time at church….tired of walking alone……sitting on the bus alone.  So I went home for the summer to work off my school bill, but I didn’t work it off.  Instead, my mother got all my money.  So I never returned to Hyles – Anderson.

End of part A.

 

 

 

 

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