Surrendering My Story: The Pregnant Prodigal Daughter (Part I)

I mentioned in my last blog that the Lord has been calling me to surrender the telling and the writing of my story, so my next few posts will be my attempt at laying it all down past to present…

Well because, it was never really mine to begin with. But somewhere in my late teens, I bought the lie that it was.

Or maybe I began to recognize that He’d given me the choice. The option to write my own story or to follow Him and trust Him to do it. Because I’d grown up in a Christian home, and I did in fact have relationship with God, but I remember beginning to consciously ignore the Holy Spirit and make the choices that I knew were contrary to what His Word

And it only took me about 8 years to realize that I’m a terrible story writer on my own. (and I’ve always considered myself a quick learner, ha!)

All of my default language for writing the story of pursuing LIFE pretty much boiled down to follow wherever my heart tells me to go that day- which only today, can I now say, is pretty much synonymous with– Lousy philosophy on life.

My story writing led me to heart break after heart break. And each time the emptiness of the pit within me, grew deeper and deeper.

It led me to feeling abandoned, worthless, unloved, afraid.

My own heart sold me lies. And the enemy of my heart offered them as comfort food for the emptiness in my soul…

Anyone who has been a teenager has experienced this next part I’m guessing. We want to know we are valuable and worth something. So everyday, I set out to prove that, at the time I thought I was trying to prove it to all of those around me, but in retrospect, I know that I was only trying to prove it to them in order to receive their admiration so I could prove to myself that I was worth something. Yet everyday was filled with the overarching  theme, of  “if I just had __blank__  then I’d be happy.”

Take your pick: A boyfriend , a prettier physique, a smaller nose, my next achievement, more admiration, Perfection, Perfection, Perfection! more friends, more fun, and in my final stages of searching, hey, maybe even some alcohol would be the answer…anything. Anything to fill this void…then I’d finally like myself. Then I’d finally be enough. And then I’d finally be happy.

So I tried it all. Multiple times.

But Nope.

I now know that all of those synthetic “fillers” were merely Junk Food for the Soul. They weren’t what I needed most, and in the way I was seeking those to be the nutrients of my soul, they were damaging me. This is the most dangerous form of sin’s deception. Somehow, after partaking in them, I always felt more desperate and hungry. Desperate to feel loved and worthy.

And at the height of that “story writing” for my own life…I found myself unwed, pregnant, and abandoned to face it ALONE,

Then God.

That’s it.

Then God.

He waged an intervention. A Divine Intervention.

He’d pursued me to the point that I finally, FINALLY gave in. Somewhere deep inside, I’d always known that it was going to take something BIG to stop me from hurting me.

And by His sovereign and lavish grace, He’d chosen to make that something a baby.

A BABY?!?!?


And that’s when I told Him, I’m done running God. I can’t do it anymore. THIS? This, I knew, I could not do alone…and THIS is where I realized that leaping out in faith was a more appealing option than continuing to trust my own heart.

Because my own heart had led me to everything that He’d tried to steer me away from. And in the midst of all the pain of the consequences of my sin, I finally had eyes to see, that He’d been trying to protect me all along.

And there on the floor of my bedroom, I gave Him back my heart, to lead.

May we always be able to take confidence in this, “that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us…” or said most beautifully:

i loved at darkest

There is ALWAYS hope in Him.

~ Dennika


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