One Year Ago, It Doesn’t Matter How I Grew Up
by Joseph Louthan
Parents divorced when I was 5. I haven’t seen my real mom since. I was left to the care of a drunken violent abusive sumbitch and his sweet saintly mom.That grandmother hasn’t never ceased her prayers for me even to this day.
For the record she never stopped praying for that sumbitch father of mine either.
I was saved when I was 7. This bus ministry part of a Baptist church in Oklahoma City that came by and picked up us kids every single Sunday
I know John 3:16 because of those buses. I still know the books of the Bible to this day because of those buses. I know what hell is because of those buses. I know what heaven is because of those buses. I knew that Jesus came down and died on the cross so I could go to heaven and be with God when I died because of those buses.
I got to meet God because of those buses.
Yea, maybe I grew up in an abusive home. I remember times I would try reading the Bible, being called by my dad to have his way with me sexually and then go right back to reading the Bible in my room.
I do remember my dad and stepmom beating the crap out of me with the buckle end of the belt for stealing food from the kitchen because I was starving because my parents were too lazy to fix anything for us kids to eat.
Sure we were locked in our rooms all day long because our parents didn’t want to be bothered with us.
Try to figure out how to use the bathroom if you are locked in your room all day. Your bathroom is not attached to the room.
After my dad and stepmom had too many kids to take care of, that same grandmother, armed with the rights of managerial custody, came and took me and my brother away.
My father had the audacity to come sit down in our bedroom and actually ask if we wanted to go live with grandma.
I packed up what little clothes I had into a trashbag and was ready to go in 30 seconds flat.
You best believed I wanted to get out of hell.
Comments
wow Joe! Um..I think we might be related. Unfortunately I have a lot in common with your childhood.
isn’t it amazing, with the upbringing you and I had, that we are now NEW. We are not living that or repeating that. And our children are safe! That’s what I wanted most as a kid – I told myself over and over in my head when I was a kid that I would NEVER do THIS to my own daughter!
When I look back on my past like you have done here in this post, I feel like I’m seeing someone else’s life, not mine. What about you? How do you feel when you look back now?
I am so thankful you broke the cycle. With Gods strength in you, you broke the cycle! Praise God!!!!
What a blessing it is to know you friend!
it is quite the tale of two different people.
For a split second, I wondered if it really did happened to me and I just read somebody else’s story and made it my own.
I got 3 posts after this.
i’m looking forward to them…only because i know there’s healing and redemption ahead!
you are so dear to us!!!
Joe,
Thank you for your openness and transparency with us. I’m looking forward to reading the rest of your story, and praying that those others out there trapped in similar situations will somehow read this and come to know the same hope you have.
You and yours have been beyond a blessing to me. I love bragging about you guys and yet, I have not met you in real life.
That will soon change.
I will take this small opportunity to apologize for this start-stop writing style. If I don’t do this, then I would be writing pure novellas (i.e walls and walls of text) per part written.
I am trying to be more efficient with my written and speaking communication. One friend of put it, “Brevity is not your strength.” That point was driven even further in when I was watching Jimmy Swaggart and thought, “Man, I wish I was an evangelist.”
If it is God’s desire for me to give me the office of evangelist, then God will always speak for me. If He speaks for me, then He can train me to communicate more efficiently.
If He wants me to be long-winded, well, that is easy.
“If He wants me to be long-winded, well, that is easy.”
HA! You and Brent will get along GREAT!!! I’m just sayin’
Your room is waiting here for you brother!
You know, this is the 2nd blog entry I’ve read today about abuse by a family member. I never experienced anything like that. I think God is reminding me how good I had it.
I hate that you went through all that.
Tam: Your hospitality has me scrambling for words because I don’t know what else to say but thank you.
Cindy: I might be eluding to this in upcoming posts but at least for me, I don’t want it to happen to anybody else… not even the worst of my worse enemies. Almost to the fact that God has made me such a new creature and that I am made righteous by Him that what I have done to others, to myself or others have done to me, it covered by His blood.
I know that God is the only One who heals. Keep reading. I should have a post coming out every day this week.
Jeff: That is the reason why. When I speak, I hope others get nosy and easedrop. (Trust me, if you have a conversation with me, the others are not easedroping but rather actually listening because the way my voice carries.)
I’m the brother that went with Grandmother out of Hell.
Unfortunately, my abuse didn’t end the day we left there (December 13th, 1986). I endured several more years of abuse until one fateful Sunday afternoon after-church lunch involving a plate of spaghetti being tossed across the dining room, and into the kitchen. I guess you can only take so much of getting your ass kicked all the time.
It’s interesting, but I was the butt of my family’s jokes and constantly abused in every way, shape and form…looking back now, I can see that they are a bunch of jealous little bitches. I also find it funny that I’m surrounded by countless friends who love me for who I am, and don’t constantly nutpunch me.
Family? Mine’s a fing joke, save for my brother Joe and a random assortment of cousins, one cool Aunt, and one awesome Uncle.
The rest of them can burn in Hell.
Jessie, I am so sorry. I truly am sorry. I am a victim of child abuse. You name it, I endured it. I hate that it happens. I hate that it happened to you and Joe! I do know that today…I am not their victim anymore.
I’m glad you have a safe few to surround yourself with now! Thanks for sharing your story and being real here…I know it still sucks!