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Lori Michele Davenport
Hello, my name is Michele. I dedicate my story to anyone who has ever had a reason to give up on life and God. My heart’s desire is for people to be encouraged; not by my life, but by what God has ...voir plusHello, my name is Michele. I dedicate my story to anyone who has ever had a reason to give up on life and God. My heart’s desire is for people to be encouraged; not by my life, but by what God has done through my life. This book is not about me. It’s about the One who created me and saved me from death so many times.
I once heard a preacher, Myles Munroe, say, “God salvages (saves) people and puts them back together, so he can use them for what he originally planned to use them for.”
What I was born to do caused God to save me from the events of my life. God has a plan for all of us, and he will save you, too. God has revealed to me that my childhood, and my life, have been faith builders, used to strengthen my faith in him.
Lord God, please guide my hands and heart as I begin to tell my life story to all who need a little faith. Thank you, Lord, for never leaving me alone and for being faithful in salvaging me to glorify you.
My parents married young and divorced young. Throughout their marriage, my father, Ron, beat my mother, Joni. He fooled around with other women, and continually assaulted Momma’s self-worth.
Their marriage was problematic from the start. For the first two years, Dad was in prison for burglary. My dad wasn’t a very nice man back then. My parents separated during the last two years of their marriage because my dad began to drink a lot.
At the time of my earliest memory of him, my father was living at my uncle’s house. On that particular night, my 6-year-old brother, Richard, wasn’t home. He was staying the night with our father.
I was 4-years-old and asleep in bed. A loud noise startled me awake. I didn’t know what it was. Suddenly, I saw my father’s face. Daddy got me out of bed and took me into the living room. I saw the front door lying in the middle of the room, where he had kicked it completely down. He sat me in the corner and forced me to watch him abuse my momma.
That’s the earliest memory I have of my dad. And the only one that I’d have for a long time.voir moins