If you had told me years ago that I would one day live in freedom, peace, and purpose (Psalm 16:11, Psalm 23:3), I wouldn’t have believed you. My story began completely opposite to those things.
Violence and loneliness cast long shadows over my childhood. Survival skills kept me alive, but they couldn’t teach me how to truly live.
As the youngest of seven children raised by immigrant parents, my childhood was shaped by instability, fear, and pain. My father struggled with alcoholism, and my mom worked constantly to provide for us. I learned to fend for myself early on.
I was wounded by physical and sexual abuse that no child should ever endure at the hands of people they trust, and I experienced cold indifference from those whose love and protection I craved. Those wounds cut deep, shattering my self-image, warping my view of love, and influencing what I believed I deserved. Shame, confusion, and fear followed me for years.
My parents divorced, and my mom moved me and two of my siblings to another city where she later married my stepfather. “Papa Joe” was a good, kind man who showed me a gentleness I had never known. For the first time, there was stability in our home.
But while my surroundings had changed, the damage inside me remained. I felt trapped.
Those early wounds shaped the crowd I gravitated toward, the places I hung out, and the dangers I narrowly missed while growing up in a gang-infested neighborhood in Long Beach, California.
Talking about trauma wasn’t a thing in our culture, but I knew something inside me was broken. Like so many who have been hurt and betrayed young, I filled the cracks with food, drugs, alcohol, and anything else that temporarily made me feel comfortable in my skin—or better yet, numb.
But even in those years when I was far from God, He was already protecting me. Looking back, I can see that His hand kept me from becoming another statistic.
Every day, I walked a tightrope through a world of gangs, addiction, and violence that should have swallowed me whole. Yet somehow, I made it out. Aside from a high-speed chase with the police, I avoided the criminal justice system entirely. That was only by God’s grace.
I was nineteen when I married my first husband, and since my normal was abnormal, I had no idea of what a healthy relationship should look like. My husband grew increasingly jealous and controlling, I accepted his behavior as love and, not seeing the warning signs, stayed.
Most days in that marriage, I lived in a prison without bars—a place where my voice grew smaller and my world grew darker. Beneath the surface, I was the same frightened little girl, still longing for safety and trying to create a sense of home the only way she knew how.
My husband’s disappearances and mood swings created a frighteningly familiar pattern of instability that mirrored my childhood. I cried myself to sleep many nights, wondering what version of him I would wake up to. Then came the cheating—the ultimate betrayal.
I left him several times. But we had three children, so I kept telling myself I had to make it work. I listened to his countless promises of change and returned home, hoping each time that life would be different. It only ever got worse.
My soul grew tired, and I knew if I stayed any longer, I would lose myself completely. I could also see that the chaos was impacting my children. They deserved better. I deserved better.
Around that time, a friend gave me a CD about self-worth. The woman speaking talked about value and identity. Those were foreign ideas to me. Her statement, “You are worth more,” stopped me in my tracks.
Something shifted inside me as I wondered if there might be more to life than what was slowly destroying me.
In a final attempt to save our marriage, I followed my husband to Ohio. It didn’t work. We ended up divorcing, and he moved back home; the kids and I stayed. Our divorce marked the beginning of a painful but necessary process of finding myself.
My heart grew weary as my life unraveled. It seemed everything in my past was overtaking me.
I felt like I had nothing left. But God was on the move, ready to show me something different.
I accepted an invitation from my friend Matt to visit his church, and that decision changed the course of my life. When I walked into that little church, I experienced a peace I had never known before and a love that made me feel safe and truly seen. I didn’t want to lose that feeling.
God revealed a picture of unconditional love through my kind and gentle friend. I must admit, a relationship was the last thing on my mind, but God had other plans. He chose Matt to draw me into a relationship with His Son, Jesus. And interestingly, He chose me to rekindle Matt’s faith.
I had no idea at the time that Matt’s faith was quietly wavering, or that he was merely going through the motions of serving God as the church’s worship leader. Nevertheless, I became hungry for God by what I saw God doing through Matt, and my newfound passion for Jesus revived Matt’s dwindling faith.
I did not know how to pray or even where to begin reading in the Bible. But when I sat still before the Lord and His Word, the Holy Spirit used scripture as a soothing balm to my wounded heart. A lifetime of shame and fear slowly began to lose its grip.
As Jesus restored my heart, He also restored my hope for love. For a long time, I had believed I would never trust anyone again. Then I learned to trust Matt. We fell in love, got married, and blended our families into one.
Matt has been a vital part of my redemption story. He leads our home with peace, patience, and grace. He loves my children as his own, and I love his as mine. Together, we have experienced the healing that only God can bring. Matt and I love the Lord because He first loved us (1 John 4:19).
The Lord surprised us both when He called Matt into ministry as a pastor. Today, we serve others out of the very places God healed in us.
Our marriage is proof that God not only had a good plan for us, but that He allowed our paths to cross so we could love one another while He rebuilt and restored our lives. He has given us beauty for ashes in ways we could never have imagined (Isaiah 61:3; Ephesians 3:20).
As Jesus healed me, my children found healing too. They had lived through their own chaos, fear, and instability—the very things I never wanted them to witness—and they had their own challenges now. But as peace settled into my heart, it settled into our home as well.
No longer did my kids live with an angry mother who was trying merely to survive. They now had the gift of a thriving mother, one who could breathe and laugh again.
Because of Jesus, memories from my past no longer torment me. God’s truth has silenced Satan’s lies. His taunts no longer have power over me. I am worthy, I am loved, and I am healed. (John 8:31–32).
When I received my calling to found an organization called Steps of H.O.P.E. Inc., God showed me that what He has done and continues to do in me isn’t meant to stop with me. It’s to be shared because my testimony, combined with the blood of Jesus, defeats Satan’s hold on people (Revelation 12:11). Through this ministry, God uses my story of redemption to awaken hope in others.
Today, I pray that my story has awakened hope in you. In Christ, there can be healing from your past and present experiences too. God can make all things new. But it will take time, and it will take faith.
In the beginning of my walk with Jesus, I couldn’t see the whole way forward. I still can’t. No one can. But as a follower of Jesus, I have His Word to be a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path (Psalm 119:105). And as I follow God’s light, one little step at a time, I can look back and see how God has been at work, lighting my path all along.
And as you walk with Him daily, He will light your path too and bring you into a place of healing. So today, if you feel trapped, broken, or hopeless, call out to Jesus. Take that first step toward Him, no matter how small. The Light of the World will meet you and guide you.
And someday, somewhere between survival and surrender, you will awaken to the truth, just as I did, that the God who cradles the most fragile flower has been carrying you all along (Luke 12:27).
Consider: What past wounds are you carrying? Have you sought comfort, acceptance, or identity in the wrong places? What was the result? Claudia took one step toward God when she couldn’t see the whole path. What one step of faith may God be asking you to take today?
CLAUDIA STEPHENS’s life is a testimony to the healing power of Jesus Christ. Through Steps of H.O.P.E. Inc., she walks alongside women transitioning out of abuse, helping them discover Christ-centered identity, freedom, and hope. Learn more at stepsofhope.help.
