I really don’t know how to start this post. There’s no great introduction other than being honest—but honesty is scary and unnerving and revealing. But that’s what I need to be right now. Revealing.

On Sunday night I spoke to an auditorium full of faces I didn’t know all staring down at me. The room was dimly lit so everything in the room was more of a silhouette than anything else. I couldn’t see or hear anyone, but I could feel. I could feel the space between me and everyone else and I felt a mixture of emotions.

I felt the pain. I felt loneliness. I felt the emptiness of life and frustration of ministry. But I saw and heard nothing. The room felt eerily silent and I felt alone. In a packed auditorium I felt lonely.

What I taught about and what I was feeling was at an emotional intersection. I shared about not forgetting about the one. The one student, the one friend, the one human trafficking victim. If we keep focused on helping the one, we have perspective of what’s scalable in being the hands and feet of Jesus.

The one.

As I mentioned earlier this week, I invited Christina to join me in Chicago for the closing session of the conference. The truth is, I don’t really know Christina well. While I was in Dallas for Catalyst, I organized a meet-up for women in ministry. Christina was one of the girls I met at the gathering. She was a Twitter friend who became a real-life person… kind of like when an imaginary friend comes to life 😉 So when I tweeted that I was going to be in Chicago speaking, she connected with me again.

For some reason, I asked her to  join me. I invited her to be my personal guest and meet me at the Omnimax theater for worship and the main session. She agreed and a couple hours later, we were hugging and chatting before the session started. That’s it. That’s all I know about Christina. Well, that and the fact that for some reason I knew she had to be there. I couldn’t explain it, but I felt it.

The feeling was right.

From: Christina Shumway

Subject: Hey!
Date: February 1, 2012
To: Bianca Olthoff 

Hi Bianca,

Like I mentioned on your blog, I intended to write you Sunday evening, but by the time I arrived home my brain was a mush.  I was filled with hot French Fries and just rapped to 90s tunes all the way home, so I was in no state to share how thankful/touched I was by your teaching : )

I was over the moon when I heard from you!!  And I wanted to share with you why your teaching meant so much to me*.
When you said you were speaking on hope, I knew God wanted me there.  It was like God had a big megaphone and saying, “This was not accident.  Listen up!!”

When you began sharing about the different youth group situations and stories of your (and family’s) life, seriously, if there was a speech balloon above my head it would have said, “No way!  You are kidding me!  That’s me!!” I couldn’t believe how many of your examples I could relate to.

I don’t think I shared about my past during the small group gathering in Dallas.  But I wanted to share with you a little about my life to give you some background* …

• If I could describe my childhood it would be fear and chaos.  There are layers upon layers of stories there and I don’t mind sharing about it, but I don’t want to bombard you : )
• Junior high and high school I poured everything into school and church.  It was my safe haven.  I left high school with a 4.0, Homecoming Queen, Class President, Cheerleading Captain, and on church leadership.  But 1/2 way through my Senior Year, I started partying a lot.  I got caught.  I was suspended from school.
• I left for college and became extremely depressed.  I continued to party and was suspended from college.
• My sophomore year of college, I attempted suicide for the first time.  I have attempted suicide all total of 3 times {and overdosed on drugs twice}.  My last attempt led me to a psych ward.
• Despite my youth pastor and wife’s urging not to party, I didn’t listen.  One night, I lost my virginity by date rape from my “best friend”.   
• I struggled with an eating disorder since 7th grade {I had a routine of restricted eating, throwing my food up, laxatives}.  But after the date rape, I wanted to protect myself from a situation like this happening again.  So I ate.  I ate to try to numb the pain.  I ate to try to hide.  I ate so I could disappear.  I ate so nobody ever would want me.  Once the scale read 200lbs, I stopped checking.  
• April 2nd, 2004 I became really sick.  I became paralyzed on the right side of my body.  I was rushed to Chicago Memorial and was told I may not make it through the night.  {They thought I had bacterial meningitis or a brain aneurysm.}  Doctors could not figure out what was wrong with me.  I was in and out of hospitals for a year.  The longest was one month.  I was hospitalized in a neurological hospital in Ann Harbor, MI.
• I lived in the suburbs of Chicago for six years, but because of my health I had to move back to Rockford.
• After I got sick, my drinking and drug use went into full swing.  I started abusing prescription drugs, began faking being sick so I could get IV shots of “synthetic heroine” {I was black listed from pharmacies and fired from doctors}, I “dated” a drug dealer so I could get my drugs for free, and almost every night I was either drunk, wasted, or blacked out.  
• For those two years, I racked up $35,000 of credit card debt.   
• On September 21st, 2006 I was admitted by the State to inpatient rehab for 42 days, 2 week partial hospilization, 3 months full-time outpatient, and 6 months part-time outpatient.   

At the point I was not crazy about God at all.  I did not understand why any God would allow these painful situations to happen in my life.  One afternoon I met with a tall, Dutch chaplain.  He asked me, “What do you think about God?”  I shared how I wanted nothing to do with a God that would allow those things happen to me and I certainly was not going to place my trust in Him.  He gave a simple response, “God, did not allow those things to happen to you.”  Those words clicked with me.  For the first time, I thought about not controlling my own life.  I was going to give my life a chance.  I went up to my room and wrote down these words on a torn piece of scrapbook paper, “God, please hold my hand.  I’m scared.”  I still have that paper today. 

Life didn’t magically become better.  The life I knew was filled with instant gratification, fulfilling my emotions, wants, and desires.  I was in unfamiliar territory.  But every day of sobriety brought new changes to my life.  I was becoming trustworthy, responsible, independent, and committed.

In 2009, Eric P {who I have known him and his wife since I was 14 and he was my Bible teacher in high school} asked me to join Monvee and be their third hire.  I couldn’t believe it.  He was really taking a chance on me.  But he kept saying, “I believe in you.”  I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to quit that first year because in my head “failure” just kept repeating in my head.  But I kept going and slowly, my confidence was returning.  {Side note:  regardless of what happens next.  I will be forever grateful for working there.  With my past, I never thought I would have a chance again.  I left college with a 3.9.  But all I saw myself was a former bartender.  God has restored so much inside of me the past few years.}

For years, I made a pact with myself that I was never going to share my story.  The pain and despair would be left in a box, tied with a bow, and tucked away.  This past spring when I was at CatWest I couldn’t escape the thought “you need to share your story”.  {God must speak really clearly in California! : ) }  My mental response back would be, “No way!”  After I returned home from CatWest I was scrolling through twitter, and I saw a post that Civitas Press was taking submission for their upcoming book “Not Alone – Stories of Living With Depression”.  I printed out the guidelines and laid it on my coffee table.  For weeks it laid there.  Until one day, I received really painful news.  “Satan 2” whom I had dated for almost 4.5 years broke up with me.  He had asked my parents if he could marry me {but I had not received a ring yet}.  And weeks later found out he had been cheating on me with a 19 year old.  Depression hit me hard – nothing like I have ever “felt” in years.  Reoccurring thoughts of rejection, betrayal, hopelessness, and low self-worth began burning inside of me from my heart pouring out in tears.  I just wanted to be left alone.  The pain inside was so intense I wanted to disappear.  But… I picked up my pen and I began to write a piece of my story.  Something changed inside of me that day.  Destroying my fear was worth it, if I could bring hope to just one person.

2011 was a tough year {the break up, a stalker, a boob cancer scare, being single again, 26 friends of mine had babies last year, job insecurity, and not being paid for 3 months}.  I was breaking inside.  “God, are you there?”  There have been many nights all I could mutter in a prayer was, “Seriously, do you hate me?!  No really?!”

A week and a half ago, I returned from the bank and saw I only had $2.61 in my account.

So I wrote about James 1:2 –4 (here’s a copy/paste of what I wrote):

“You know that under pressure,
your faith-life is forced into the open
and shows its true colors.
So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely.
Let it do its work –
so you become mature and well-developed.”
(James 1:2 – 4 MSG)

Last Spring, I read this verse and placed it on my fridge.  I looked at that verse and honestly, it was difficult for me to believe this statement.  Have you ever been in this situation?

The irony is, I have.  I have had moments where I didn’t think there was a way out.  I couldn’t handle {fill in the blank}, but He was there.  I would NEVER want to re-live those situations, but I wouldn’t want to trait those life lessons I have gained.

During those times, I never was placed in a pressure
that God couldn’t handle.

So that is what I am holding on to … the past.
His past faithfulness.
And believing that for today.

———————

Sunday night I left in tears.  Your teaching reminded me of what I wrote just days ago.  At the time when I wrote it I did not “feel” or “see” his faithfulness, but I was choosing to believe.

If God can bring Moses through the Red Sea, Noah through the flood, and you through constant challenges …He will not leave me nor forsake me.

I don’t know what God has in store for me.   But I left re-assured knowing that He loves me and has me in His hands.

He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

———————

Thank you a million times over for inviting me to come out.

I’m so blessed to have met you and call you a friend!!
Christina

I emailed Christina asking if I could share her story. Her beautiful, redemptive, hopeful story! She agreed and in that moment I knew why she had to be at the Omnimax Theater on Sunday night.

We needed each other.

I walked off the stage and beads of sweat ran down the nape of my back. I laid every ounce of what I believe God asked me to share and I felt alone. Like the feeling when you pour our your very best and you still end up short. Yes, that feeling. As I dragged myself into my hotel room, I called Matt and told him it felt like I birthed a child on stage for everyone to see and all I got were silent stares.

I’m never speaking again. I’m the worst teacher ever. I’m the biggest failure. 

And then I got an email from one person. The one. I knew instantaneously that if for no other reason I was suppose to go to Chicago, fly five hours, draft two messages, sweat for 40 minutes about the living hope in Jesus Christ with the focus of ministering to one person at one time for one reason, then Christina was my one.

We’re part of each other’s story. Like you are part of this story. And we are part of a cosmic story. All coming together to share the work in our lives one person at a time for one reason and one purpose: HOPE.

Don’t lose hope. Tell your story. Even you, Bianca.