I’m honored to be sharing this week at Belovedprodigal.com. This is my story of how God met me in my darkest days.
“How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” 1 John 3:1
The lost and hurting years
I remember running across the dark field as fast as my feet would carry me, trying to hide between the growing crops. The watchmen had not seen me come unto the campus. I would have made it to my dorm room had it not been for the guard dogs barking.
I was 15 at a boarding school located in the outskirts of Lima, Peru. My parents sent me there shortly after my Dad found me smoking in my room with the boombox blasting loud metal music and my hair dyed bright orange red. It was the last straw after a series of incidents that included skipping school, failing my classes and being caught in the corridors of the high school where 2,000 plus students and I attended.
They had thought that sending me back to their homeland to a Christian boarding school far away from the influence of my “wild” American friends would change things for me.
Instead, I found “wild” Peruvian friends whose idea of fun was running away from the boarding school and going into town. My friend that evening had led me to what looked like storage sheds in an alley where there wasn’t much people. Some older guys were waiting for us to join them for an evening of fun…. click here to read more.