From as early as within her mother's womb, Rev. Carolyn Baker struggled with issues of abandonment. Her father did not want her and when she was four years old, her mother left her in the care of an aunt and uncle. When Carolyn's mother returned for her later in life, she brought her into an abusive situation that only escalated Carolyn's descent into depression, fear, and neglect. Yet it was the divine love and power of the Lord that fi nally pulled Carolyn from her devastating existence. In My Issues Touch the Heart of God, Carolyn shares her incredible true story of faith and hope. She explores her troubled teenage years when she began taking drugs, and reveals the struggles of early adulthood including pregnancy, jail, and continued drug and alcohol abuse. But in the midst of her deepest sorrow while languishing in prison, Carolyn cried out to God-and He heard her. From that moment on, she became His child and He helped her to overcome her biggest obstacles. God not only saved her life, but her soul, as well. Deeply moving and life-altering, My Issues Touch the Heart of God shows you the amazing transformative power of God's love and grace. Be inspired by Carolyn's story and commit yourself to His arms!
MY ISSUES TOUCH THE HEART OF GOD
By Carolyn BakerTrafford Publishing
Copyright © 2010 Rev. Carolyn Baker
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4269-2978-6 Chapter One
"Just then a woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. She said to herself, "If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed." Jesus turned and saw her. "Take heart, daughter," he said, "your faith has healed you." And the woman was healed from that moment." (Matthew 9:20-22 - NIV) * * *
Many may say that this book is long over due. At this time I still am not sure what God wanted me to do but to keep the faith, keep other people's mouths off of me for not doing what He wanted me to do, and to share my life story with the world. I am writing this book in the hopes that God will use it to change someone's life. I guess the very beginning would be the best place to start, but let me assure you I can only go back as far as God will allow my mind to go.
I birthed the demon of abandonment and rejection as a fetus in my mother's womb. My mother was five months pregnant with me when I heard my father tell her, "I know you got another young one (meaning baby or child) in there, but I told you I did not want any kids. I let you have the first one, but this one I do not want any parts of." Yes, I heard this when I was in my mother's womb. After he said this, he walked off. My mother was washing clothes from a big black wash pot in the back yard. The Spirit allowed me to see all of this so I could understand that what was going on was really true. I then saw my mother putting her hands between her legs, falling to her knees and beginning to cry very hard. When I was born I had a birth mark of two hands between my thighs. I never knew where they came from until after I got saved and God gave me this vision. I believe God gave me this vision to deliver me from disliking my mother so much and blaming her for everything wrong in my life, while giving my father all the love and positive feedback.
That was the beginning of my issues. When I was four years old my mother left North Carolina and moved to Connecticut. She left me and my brother with my dad's sister and her husband and children. They are a very close and loving family, as I have always known them to be. We lived on a farm with my uncle and aunt, and the smell of fresh air and the sweet smell of food cooking was always in my nose. Going to live with them was ok until my mother stopped sending money to them. I had never heard or seen these two people fussing or having any disagreement until one night when we got home late from a church function at the Virginia state fair. I was lying in bed, and I guess they thought all of us where asleep after the long day we just had, but I heard them speaking in a harsh tone to one another about me and my brother. My brother is my heart I love him today like he is my own son. We went through so much together as kids on into our adulthood. However, this story is about me. My aunt was fussing with my uncle about my mother not sending money to them in about six months. She said they could not keep us and buy clothes for us. She said, "Feeding them is no problem, but that boy and that gal are growing. How does she expect us to clothe her kids? We have our own in the backroom. I told her we could give them a good, loving home, a roof over their heads, along with our own, and put food in their mouths, but she had to send money down here to help out. I'll give them to their daddy if she thinks I won't let her not send some money down here before that boy starts to go to school." My dad was a chronic alcoholic. This is why my mother did not want us with him. Anyway, my uncle, God bless him, said these words: "No, we are not going to put the children out nor give them to your brother. She asked us to keep her children, and we're just going to have to do what we can to make it. And we can make it. You and I have been down this way before when we first started with our family. Let's just give her some time. Maybe hard times have laid on her up there. We don't know. She has not written us and told us anything yet." My uncle loves me and my brother as his own children until this day. I love him and thank God for both him and my aunt. He is now battling cancer, but God has kept him thus far. Glory to God! I just praise Him for this man's heart of love. Church was always in me, I guess you could say. I just never had the opportunity at that stage in my life for anything to mature.
Let's get back to the seed planter in my life: my "dad". You see, the Bible says there is power in the tongue so we need to watch over words that we speak. I just want to show how the words spoken out of my father's mouth could be bad seeds. My dad rejected me and abandoned me by the words he spoke to my mom while I was in her womb. Children, even before they are born, can hear words as well as music as they are developing in the womb. So be very careful what you put out in the atmosphere for your unborn child to hear. Be careful where you take that unborn child as well as what you feed them. My mother and father fed me alcohol quite often, as I will discuss later.
At some point while I was living with my aunt and uncle, my dad started coming around on weekends. I can only guess that my aunt had sent for him. I had a child's love for him but I did not really know him. I was only about four or five years old and had not seen him before that time. So I was glad to see him but he was not my uncle, did not smell like my uncle. However, my uncle would not let me or my brother call him "daddy" like the kids did around the house. When I ask him why not and told him that I loved him, he smiled and said "I know you do baby girl, but I'm not your real father. I'm your uncle and I love you too, but if you call me `daddy' what will your real daddy think?" I said, "I don't care; I do not know him any way." I then asked if I could call him "uncle dad." He picked me up, gave me a big hug and said, "Oh, baby girl, uncle would like that." He became my dad from that moment on. The only other man that I have looked at as a father is my pastor, Archbishop LeRoy Bailey, Jr. I love him more than I can express. I know God has shown him my love for him. He has watched over my life to help bring about the changes that have taken place in me. God has healed and filled so many holes in my life through him.
But back to my father. My aunt did all the girls' hair on Saturday morning so she wouldn't have to do it on Sunday morning before church service. There were six girls including me. She always did my hair last because she said my hair was not as thick as the other girls'. My aunt and uncle never did anything for their kids that they didn't do for us, as well. I need to share that now because later on you will see how things changed for me. It was on one of these Saturdays that my dad came over drunk as a skunk. I knew what that smell was that made him stink to me: it was alcohol. He stayed until we had lunch and then the adults got together to talk while I went outside to play with my youngest cousin. All of a sudden, I heard my dad begin to yell and curse really loud. I ran to the house and stepped through the door just in time to see my uncle grab his rifle from over the door and tell my father to get off his property and never ever come back. He said, "You are no longer welcome here. You will not come into our home and talk to my wife the way you are speaking to her. I don't do it and you won't either." I saw him point the gun at my father and at the same time my aunt and I both said, "No!!!" I screamed, "Don't hurt anybody, uncle! Please don't!" I was scared out of my little mind because I had never seen my uncle upset. He was always a pleasant-spirited man; always soft spoken and quiet. My uncle did not appear to have a mean or rough bone in his body. He cared for everybody, so my dad had to have said something really bad to get my uncle keyed up like that. After my uncle saw me, he put the gun to his side. I could tell he was still heated, but he pointed to the door and said, "It's best you leave now. You have upset this family for the last time. My dad walked off, but not before saying, "I'll be back for my kids. You just wait."
After dinner in the front room, my uncle told us he was sorry that we had to see him act that way. We told him it was ok, but I only said it because his kids said it. I still did not know what was this craziness was all about. My mind said I was too young to know these things, so just as I was about to relax in my mind he called me to him. His eyes did not look right. I sat on his lap, which was like a holiday treat because we only sat on his lap during holidays. Anyway, he sat me on his lap and spoke these words while looking at my brother: "Boy, this is your only sister." Then he looked at me and said, "He is your only brother that we know of. I need you two to always take care of each other no matter where you are. Look out for one another. Can you remember to do that for me?" Still not fully understanding what was going on, my brother and I both said, "Yes." I was listening then because I had another seed planted in me by my uncle and that was to take care of my brother no matter what. I had to listen, learn and know what was going on. From that day on I had a need to watch over my brother, to protect him.
Later on my aunt was in the kitchen and this short lady came in who was said to be my grandmother. She had moved closer to town but was coming back to the family's smaller house up the road. She looked at me and said, "She sure looks just like her daddy, just like that man." My aunt asked her who did she think I would look like. It seemed like I was always around adults because I was a girl and had to stay around the house with my aunt and little cousin. We were both girls so we both were always with my aunt. My aunt told my grandmother that my father was supposed to have brought money by for us, but that he had come over drunk that Saturday and did not have the money. She told my grandmother that he started getting nasty with her in front of my uncle just because he was her brother, but that my uncle was not going to stand for that nonsense in his house and she was going to stick by her husband no matter what anybody said. My aunt repeated what my father said about taking me and my brother from them and told my grandmother that my uncle looked him right in the face and told my dad that he was not going to get us because my mother made my uncle promise that he would keep me and my brother. My aunt thought my dad was getting worse with his drinking. He was fighting people all over town and the word was getting out about him. My aunt was very close to my dad and I could tell she was hurt behind his behavior.
Well, summer began to heat up. There were always picnics and cookouts. It was a great summer until my dad showed up. That's when things got crazy again and my life was gone for good. Then the day came when my uncle, with tears in his eyes, told me and my brother that our father was moving us to live with him. I looked at my uncle and said, "But we don't want to go. We want to stay with you." He hugged us and said that my dad would bring us over to visit. It was settled. We had to go with my dad and there was nothing my uncle could do. He tried to make us feel better by telling us that our dad was going to be really good to us, just like he was. My brother just stood there like the life had been sucked completely out of him. He did not say a word. My uncle then reminded us about what he had asked us to do: take care of each other no matter what. We shook our head between the tears and were then carried off to hell. My father took us to his house somewhere. I was crying so hard that I did not remember which way he had turned. I did not know which way to run. We were stuck.
It was the Fourth of July. All the boys and men were playing with firecrackers. The girls could not play with them. My father gave one to my brother on that porch of his house, but my brother did not want to hold one. My father had men friends with him and one woman who I later learned was his drunken girlfriend. My brother did not want to throw the firecracker, but my father lit it anyway and tried to give it to him. My brother refused and it blew up in his hand. My dad was embarrassed by my brother and slapped him upside the head. Well, it was on then. I remembered what my uncle said and I charged my little behind into my father, hitting and kicking him. He grabbed and shook me. The men said, "Don't you hit that child, man." My father then said these words: "I'll tear her little tail up. She's just like that mama of hers."
My father left that day after he was told by his friend not to hit me. He left with these people and told me and my brother that he would be back and to go in the house before it got dark. I cannot say if he came back that night but I do know he was back and forth for about two weeks. I do not remember my father ever coming back to that house. After the summer months it began to get dark earlier and earlier. My brother and I were left out there on that farm alone. We had little food and then we had no food. As it got colder we had no matches or wood left to make a fire. My brother and I drank sugar water and I believe we ate flour because we had no food. I'm sharing this to show that God, even when we do not know Him, will keep and protect and provide for us. At night my brother and I would huddle up together in the big bed to keep warm. I would urinate in the bed because I was afraid to go outside in the dark. This went on for months.
No one ever came down the road to see about us. My dad had not come home in months. We were left on a farm - a four year old and a six years old. We kept looking out the window at night and playing in the front yard during the day. It never crossed our minds to leave and start walking down that road. My father had told us not to leave the yard and that was it. One night we went to bed and I asked my brother if he thought dad was coming for us that night. He said, "I don't know. Just go to sleep." I was so cold. My brother told me to lay closer to him to keep warm. Then I started to cry. I wanted to go "home", back to my uncle's house. My brother said he did not know how to get there without getting lost. He again told me to go to sleep. I lay down and cried myself to sleep. All of a sudden, I heard a car outside. I thought it was our dad, but my brother told me to be quiet because it could have been a stranger. At that point I didn't care. Even though it was cold in the room, I jumped out of that bed and looked through the curtains. I saw a fair-skinned man in a white shirt. My brother told me to get back and be quiet before he hurt us. I was torn between listening to my brother because of what our uncle had told us and getting out of that cold place. I did not listen to my brother. I tried but something inside me prompted me to speak to the man. The man knocked on the door and I peeked out. He said he was lost and wanted to speak to my father or mother. I blurted out that they were not in the house. He then asked if there was an adult in the house who could give him directions. I told him we were there by ourselves. That's when the man became concerned and asked when our parents would be back. I told him I didn't know and that we had been there by ourselves for a long time but I didn't know how long. He asked if he could come inside, but we told him we couldn't open the door to strangers. The man told us we were doing the right thing and again asked us if we knew when our parents would be back. We told him no. He looked very sad and I guess he realized that we had been left alone for good.
The man indicated that he had a son and daughter about the age of me and my brother, and he went to his car to get them. Out stepped a young boy wearing a white shirt and a little girl about my height. They had fruit in their hands for me and my brother, but my brother still did not want to open the door. However, when I saw that food I pushed my brother out of the way and opened the door. The man handed us an apple, orange, and candy cane. He then asked us about other family members. We told him we only knew the names of our uncle and aunt but did not know where they lived. We only knew they had a really big farm. The man did not step into the house. He just looked around and asked if we would like to come with him to find our family. My brother was scared and he jumped back, pushing me at the same time, and closed the door. He said, "No, we have to stay here." The man stood outside the door and said, "Son, I'm going to go get some help for the two of you. I'll be back, OK?" Peace came over me and I told my brother that we would be leaving that place, never to return. My brother was more negative, not believing the man could find anybody that knew us.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from MY ISSUES TOUCH THE HEART OF GODby Carolyn Baker Copyright © 2010 by Rev. Carolyn Baker. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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