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Faith in Healing

Faith for me hasn’t always been a factor in my life. From the beginning of my story and

throughout my life I had no working definition of what faith was. I only ever had masters,

owners, and rapists. I was a child groomed into a life of sexual servitude. I was only a

commodity to be used and used again then traded off for the next new girl. I was subjected to unimaginable torture, abuse, and trauma. This was my life- the life of a Human Trafficking

Victim. I was trafficked internationally as well as domestically. I was trafficked for 38 years.

During this period of my life I was beaten, raped, broken, and constantly told that I was property and they were my God…But who was God? I only ever knew of the word God as being my owner. I had no experience of God, Faith, or Religion. I witnessed the murder of a close friend and I myself have been left for dead on multiple occasions. Yet, somehow I always survived. I always sensed that I had someone watching over me, which was impossible because I had absolutely no family. However, I made it through some of the wildest and most unbelievable moments of danger. I was kidnapped in Medellin Colombia by the Truijjio Cartel, stripped naked in the rainforest beaten and about to be gang raped when by some small miracle I was rushed to a car and returned to my owner. This is just one of the tamest examples of how “Lucky” I was in such a horrific life. But it wasn’t luck, and has never been. It was God. Looking back I see God working in my life constantly. He was there for me from the beginning. He never left my side, I just hadn’t met him formally yet.

Skip forward to the United States of America, state of Texas. City of North Richland Hills, year 2020. I had been beaten so badly my leg was crushed and I had been trapped in a locked room to service multiple men day and night. For two years. Through yet another act of God, after a particularly brutal gang rape and as I had again given up on life and about to commit suicide, I heard it. The soft buzz buzz of a cell phone on vibrate between the bed and the wall. It was unlocked and this was my only chance to escape. I knew only one phone number and that number was the phone number that was constantly being yelled out around me- the drug dealer's phone number. No one was at the house at the time. And because I couldn’t even walk my door was left unlocked. With what felt like an eternity I waited and hoped that this Drug Dealer really would come get me. She did. And I went straight to the hospital for a rape kit, emergency surgery on my shattered leg and treated for multiple other injuries and drug screening. My life was over- or had it just begun?

Homeland Security and the FBI were immediately contacted. After my injuries were

attended to I was then transported to Collin Ross Institute for Trauma for evaluation,

stabilization, and rehabilitation. I was connected to a Homeland Security Agent by the name of Sarolyn Morgan. I was so terrified to speak with her that it took me 4 weeks to call her back. When I finally contacted her she was kind, supportive, and truly heard and believed me. She walked with me during each and every stage of my burgeoning journey through healing. Slowly I grew to trust her, and only her. It still took me two years to even write my name as I would not sign or write ANYTHING. Sarolyn also did something perhaps against the rules that govern her position but something that nonetheless changed my entire life. She told me about God. The true story of who God is. She bought me my first bible and I read it from cover to cover that year three times. I immediately knew in my heart that God was real and he’s the reason I have


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