My Testimony

I surrendered my life to God on January 8th, 2024 while alone in my room. Up to this point, I was 7 years deep into an opioid and amphetamine addiction. I managed to keep a job all that time, but everything else in my life deteriorated. I had no friends left because I isolated myself from everyone. I didn't want anyone around long enough to see behind the curtains - to see just how badly addicted, lost and detached I was from the world around me. How miserable, pessimistic and introverted I had become. I had anxiety being around moderate to large groups of people and would overthink every and any word I’d say in the most mundane interactions.

I spent almost all of my evenings and weekends alone for years. I spent $50 every other day on drugs, maybe $30 a week on groceries. I had truly become a shell of a human. As my addiction got worse, I started going to darker places mentally. I was drawn toward everything dark, evil, lustful and blasphemous in nature. I especially began picking apart Christianity and the hypocrisy of Christians themselves.

January 8th was a normal day - I had no intentions of quitting my addictions, and even took drugs that morning. However around 3pm, I saw something on TikTok which shook me to my core. The week leading up to this, there was a celebrity (who was known for making lots of demonic content) that had been making videos claiming that he gave his life to Jesus and he was "a new man", that he was "forgiven." I went to the comments of the video, expecting to see Christians condemning and rejecting him. But I saw the opposite - the Christians in the comments were loving, kind and welcomed this man into God’s family.

I remember thinking to myself,

“if this guy can be forgiven and saved by God, maybe there's a chance for me.”

It was the only glimmer of hope I had for some sort of future where I might find freedom. I held onto that for days. But instead, on January 8th at 3pm, that same celebrity jokingly posted the most vile, awful music video mocking Jesus Christ, almost as a big "Sike, joke's on you" to the Christians watching him. The comments on this new music video from non-believers were so cruel and vicious - people praising the celebrity and laughing along with him at the Christians he “fooled.”

I hadn't truly prayed since I was little. I had no relationship with God whatsoever. But yet, seeing this felt like a stab in the chest. I began questioning,

"Why? Why?? Why did this just break my heart so much? WHY is it always Jesus that society ridicules and hates? There are Gods in other religions that DEGRADE women and murder innocent people. So why is it always Jesus that the world can’t stand?"

And I began to cry. I cried, and cried and cried. Something I hadn't done in years because the drugs kept me numb physically AND emotionally. I was so familiar with darkness, evil and hate, that in this moment… I knew there had to be an opposite. There has to be good.

And finally - it just clicked.

I began crying out to God through tears, saying,

"God, if you are truly there, if you are real - I will do whatever you say. I'm just tired of this darkness. I can't do it anymore."

Not long after that, something from within me told me the only way I could prove to God how desperately I wanted Him in my life, was to do the unthinkable - throw out all my drugs, not tell a single soul - and rely on God alone to get me through it.

Logically speaking, this was a dangerous idea. My body learned how to operate with drugs in my system for 7 years. I had read COUNTLESS stories of grown men who had been taking the same drugs as me, and their withdrawals went on for weeks, sometimes months. But I was taking WAY more drugs, and for WAY longer than even they were. You need support and surveillance. You need people on standby to help you and monitor you through the withdrawals.

So I knew I couldn't do it by my own strength.

But I was at the end of myself. I was so exhausted by the darkness that lingered and kept me in these chains for years, demons that I became well-acquainted with. I remembered all of the prayers from my faithful parents over the years, and every person who ever told me about Jesus. So in this moment, I knew, that I knew, that I knew.... the same Jesus society told me to hate - HE is the only answer. He is the only one who can save me.

I threw away all my drugs in the dumpster that night and began my faith journey. Only 2 short hours later - the withdrawals had begun. Unless you've been through it yourself, no one will truly know the physical and mental torment of coming off of opioids. It's an itch deep in your bones that you can't scratch - and it's in every bone in your body. Your nauseous, throwing up, and your stomach twisting in knots. You're sweating profusely through your clothes one minute, then 2 minutes later - freezing and shivering. You can't sit still, as if every limb has a mind of it's own, each trying to get away from you to find comfort. Your body is tired, but you are WIDE awake. There is no chance of sleep for the foreseeable future.

But through the midst of all this, hours of crying, itching, sweating and moving non-stop, I prayed. I begged, I yelled and even cursed at Him. But I didn't lose contact with Jesus for one second. I knew, and felt Him in the room with me. I can't explain to you with human words how much I felt Him in that room with me.

I began watching The Chosen - a show about the story of Jesus. I looked up "Jesus music" on Spotify to create a playlist that played on loop all throughout the night. I filled every inch of my room with worship music and my shaky, tearful voice lifting up prayers to God Almighty.

It was around 1-2 o’clock in the morning on this first night. The withdrawals were unbearable and I knew there was no chance of sleeping for the foreseeable future. I had been crying for hours, and I finally hit my breaking point. I couldn't take it anymore; it felt like a war between my body and my mind. I was ready to go out to the dumpster, find my drugs in a bag, and relapse. I wanted so badly to get sober, not even for myself, but for God. But my body was in fight mode, trying to convince my brain to go and take drugs. That's all my body knew for 7 years.

I was giving up.

I said out loud to God through tears, "God, I can't do this. I'm not strong enough. If you have anything to say, now is the time to say it. I'm going out to the dumpster and I'm going to relapse."

Shortly after that, something inside of me told me to look under my bed for a bible. I hadn't opened a bible by my own choice in over a decade, possibly my whole life. But I went over, stuck my arm way under my bed and felt around. Sure enough, there was a bible shoved way underneath my bed among other things. I had no idea who gave it to me, but I pulled it out and decided to just open it up and start reading somewhere random as a last ditch effort before I shamefully went out to the dumpster to relapse. Out of the whole bible, I opened it up to Romans Chapter 7. This is the exact scripture where my eyes began reading:

Romans 7:18-25:

"For I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my flesh. For the desire to do what is good is with me, but there is no ability to do it. For I do not do the good that I want to do, but I practice the evil that I do not want to do. Now if I do what I do not want, I am no longer the one that does it, but it is the sin that lives in me. So I discover this law: When I want to do what is good, evil is present with me. For in my inner self I delight in God’s law, but I see a different law in the parts of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and taking me prisoner to the law of sin in the parts of my body. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, with my mind I myself am serving the law of God, but with my flesh, the law of sin."

This was the scripture He brought me to. In a pivotal moment, where I could no longer bear the mental war against my spirit and my flesh, I cried out to God and THIS was His response. As I lay there on my bed in the fetal position, with tears streaming down my face, I will never be able to explain to anyone what I felt as I read this passage, other than an overwhelming awareness that Jesus was sat on that bed with me, with His hand on my back. I had read astrology and personality quizzes for years that told me who I was and everything I wanted to hear. Now I’m reading a bible, telling me I am a prisoner to my flesh and my human nature is to sin, despite my desire to know and follow God. And yet, never in my life had I felt more loved, more welcomed and more seen by something - or someone - I couldn’t see back.

It was an overwhelming flood of love that held my chin up as I read that scripture. It was a love so big, so all-encompassing, that I wanted nothing more than to lay with my face to the ground at His feet. This was the moment that I knew, EVERY word of that book is God-breathed and life-bringing. This was the moment I knew - that if I have to suffer like this for the rest of my life on earth, it would be worth every second to be near Him and to know Him.

For 3 days, I suffered inexplicably. But for 3 days, I spent every waking moment with Him - I prayed and talked with God, I watched The Chosen, I read the bible and I listened to worship music. In this time also, God allowed me to remember every person who’s ever talked to me about Jesus. My family, old friends, complete strangers, a wonderful therapist I had years prior who happened to be a faithful Christian woman. I used all of these things to get closer to Him. The withdrawals didn't stop for one second, but not one moment did I doubt just who was with me and giving me the strength to keep going.

Side note - and one of the many miracles I saw that week - This all began on a Monday. I work a job in the legal world where every day is different. I was supposed to have a FULL week of work, which would have been 100% impossible to do while going through these withdrawals. But every single job I had that week ended up cancelling. One, by one, by one... every day I would get an email or a text from my boss, saying "Skylar, I don't know what's going on but your job tomorrow cancelled again."

…So I ended up with an entire week at home, just me and God, walking hand-in-hand through the fire.

On the 3rd day, I prepared for yet another night of no sleep, nausea, bone-itching and profuse sweating. TMI - I even set out 4 sets of pajamas next to my bed, as I would have to get up and change almost every hour due to sweating so much. It was around midnight, and I was watching The Chosen and talking with God.

All I can tell you, is that I fell asleep, and I woke up 7 hours later.

Every ounce of withdrawals was gone. It all just stopped.

I remember sitting up and thinking to myself, "This can't be right. This doesn't make sense. God, I need to suffer. I've rejected you my whole life. I deserve to suffer. It's the least I can do."

But in that moment, I knew it was over, and I knew it was only by God's inexplicable mercy. But it wasn't just the physical restoration, it was the mental restoration. I woke up and it truly felt like my brain had been rewired; the cravings were wiped from my mind completely. I had an immense peace and joy I had never known before. I had energy in my body and an excitement/curiosity for the world that I hadn’t felt since I was a little girl - a feeling that I thought was only linear in our timeline, and that those days were long since passed.

The darkness was finally gone.

For 2 days after this, Jesus and I celebrated non-stop. We danced, we sang. I cried happy tears and worshipped Him with my face to the floor. I could not see Him, but again, I knew, that I knew, that I knew... He was RIGHT THERE with me. Right beside me. Filling every corner of my home with divine, supernatural love.

On the 5th morning, I woke up and I had the most intense desire to paint again - something I prepared to give up when all of this started. Every story online that talked about coming off of drugs told me that if I had any hobbies, you would most likely not do those anymore once you're sober, because the creative spark would be gone. Your brain essentially has to learn how to be happy and creative on it's own again, because your dopamine and serotonin receptors have been solely working off of drugs. I had only ever painted while high. In the past, I painted some normal things, but many weird, obscure, lustful and dark things.

So I told God back on the first day I quit my addiction, "If I never paint again, it's worth it to know You. I'll give it up."

But yet, on the 5th morning, He proved me wrong once again. I had never been more excited to paint in my life. I made a deal with Jesus in that moment and told Him,

"I don't care if I paint like a 5-year old and all of my painting abilities are gone. The fact that you're even giving me the desire to paint again, 5 days into sobriety, is more than I could ever ask for. I promise You, every single painting I do from now until the day I see You in heaven, will be to serve and glorify Your name."

So I began to paint. On my Gallery page, you can see all the paintings I’ve done from January until today. You can read the symbolic back story of my first painting by clicking here.

Jesus Christ saved my life. On that 3rd day, I also quit several other non-drug related addictions that I had for even longer: watching porn, tik-tok and hoarding, all of which I quit that day and never looked back. However, this is more than a testimony about being freed from addiction, because not every story is like mine, where some battles take much longer - and God is especially present in all of those stories, too. My chains to drugs were not just broken that day, but also the chains I had attached to the world. I was brought to my knees that day, not because I wanted freedom from drugs, but I wanted freedom from myself.

The world told me for so long how amazing I was. That I don't need anyone, I can do it. I'm strong enough. I'm a good person. Just look within yourself. Do you really want it? Are you meditating enough? Are you spending time outside? Just speak affirmations over yourself every morning. Climb the corporate ladder. Put yourself first. Your desires are valid! Do what makes YOU happy! Do what feels good! You know what's best for yourself.

All of those things sound amazing and quite innocent, right? How is that harmful? That's the problem. It WASN'T harmful - it was a friendly disguise to keep my eyes away from the truth. It was all false promises and quick fixes - like putting a Band-Aid over a large crack in a dam.

None of it worked. It wasn't until I surrendered to Him and invited Him to come in and change my heart, that the water finally came bursting through that dam, The Holy Spirit washing me clean for the first time in my life. The God I ran from all my life, called me by my name. Me - a sinner, a drug addict, a blasphemer. He waited all that time with arms wide open.

He's waiting for you, too.

If you’re here reading this as a muslim, mormon, buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, Jehovas witness, satanist, agnostic, atheist, or a believer who's lost touch with God over the years, I first want to say thank you. From the bottom of my heart - thank you. Whether you're chalking it up to me being a good writer, whether you think it's all a load of baloney, or a story of miraculous "chance" or inner strength. I know stories like this aren't common, so it's easier for the human brain to come up with human explanations. I also tried to do that for years before my salvation. I am only a messenger to you, friend, to share my testimony of God's grace, and to lovingly, yet urgently tell you - the same God who created the universe - the same Jesus who hung on a cross for sinners like us - wants a relationship with YOU. There's a reason you're reading this. Whether you came here with skepticism or you came here to read what the crazy Jesus lover has to say…

there's a reason you're here.

Please stay.