I became a Christian at the age of five, shortly after my older brother, David, and I decided to visit a church near our house in Detroit. Our parents soon started attending with us and I was raised in what was, by all outward appearances, a Christian home. My family went to church twice on Sunday, every Wednesday evening, and to revival meetings whenever they were held. My mother became a strong Christian who worked at the church. Dad was a deacon, a Sunday school teacher, a child abuser, and a pedophile.

I can recall memories of physical and sexual assaults at the hands of my father from when I was as young as five years old. Through some of the worst times, the attacks were on a daily basis. Trying to run or hide only made him angrier and more violent. My prayers for God to rescue me from him went unanswered, as did my prayers for my father to be taken out of my life. I plotted but failed to kill my father twice. Fear of an uncertain outcome and conviction from God had overcome my anger both times. The Lord reminded me of Romans 12: 19 - Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay" says the Lord.

Since I couldn't kill my father, I thought I'd try another approach. One night, I swallowed 48 aspirin. The next morning I awoke without even as much as a stomach ache! It seemed that even God didn't want me and I felt lost, angry, and desperate. Above all else, I felt a burning hatred for my father.

When I was eighteen, I had the chance to go to youth summer camp one last time. During chapel, I felt like the preacher was speaking only to me. His topic was forgiveness, and I had never felt such conviction before. The verse that I couldn't ignore was Mark 11:25 – "And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins."

I realized then that I had it all wrong. I had allowed so much hate and anger in my life and I had pushed God so far away, but I needed him desperately. I went forward that evening and dropping to my knees begging God to forgive me. I surrendered everything over to Him and asked for His forgiving power to cleanse me and give me the power to forgive my father. He did just that, and I felt like a new person. From that day forward I can truly say I never again allowed myself to feel hatred for my dad. However, I still had to live in that same house with the same daily torment.

After a few years I was out of school and working, but not making enough to live on my own. I prayed for God to send me a good husband within six months, keeping in mind the encouragement of James 5:16 – "The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much". One week before the six month deadline arrived, I met the man to whom I've been married for 48 years. I had finally escaped the nightmare.

For many years my father denied what he had done. My husband, Gil, and I could not trust him around our children, so we rarely visited my parents. It wasn't until long after our fourth child was born that my father invited us to visit him in Florida. By this time he was blind and very frail from diabetes. My husband agreed that I should take two of our children to see him. Within minutes of our arrival, my dad asked me to forgive him for the awful things he did to me. When I explained that I had forgiven him many years ago, he began to cry and asked, "How could you forgive me?"

I replied, "Dad…I needed my prayers answered. I had to forgive you. That is what the Bible tells us to do."

After the reconciliation, we visited my father each year until he passed away. Today Gil and I have four children who are serving the Lord, and seven grandchildren who are becoming Christians one by one.