My Testimony

I was a child of abuse.
To the world, I had no use.
My mother weak and torn,
A beautiful Cherokee rose overrun by thorn.
Drugs, sex, and alcohol, first on my father's list.
His hands rough and hard, balled into a tight fist.
Hands never used for work, love, nor caring,
selfish, mean, and unkind only his anger sharing.
I learned very early what I didn't want to be.
Learning from the many Angels who watched over me.
My mother, my first Angel, though an unlikely one.
Gave many gifts and the first hint of the Father and His Son.
From my Granny came Cherokee courage and Irish grit.
Even from my father, a gift, a use for the anger,
to survive and never quit.
I do believe Angels guarded my path.
I know God protected me from my father's wrath.
Through my earthly father great damage
to my heart was done.
Though it has been healed by my Heavenly Father
through His only Son.
I was a child of abuse.
To God and Jesus, I am of great use.