January 2017 Ambassador Newspaper

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January 2017

By Jenna McKaye The bedroom closet became my refuge from the terror that crept into my life. Desperately, I tried to comfort myself as the tears streamed down my face, soaking my shirt. I was alone, without anyone to help make sense of what became of me. I grew up in Southern California. It was my playground, where I learned to ride horses, play volleyball, and attended school. I was a happy kid, or at least I appeared to be. My Christian education was established through private school and family church attendance every weekend. Sports held my interest more than any desire for boys. Training with a professional baseball player had given me an unusual sporting edge during my years

Pastor Profile Johnny Burke

Page 9

playing competitive travel volleyball. There was a feeling of being on top of the world with a serious game face on, but underneath, I was fragile with an innocence that eventually worked against me I was emotionally impacted by the divorce of my parents, despite hating their constant fighting with one another. When my sisters went away to college, I was left alone, struggling to maintain my winning

BEFORE

AFTER

Annual Marriage Check-Up

Page 13

game face. Then, at 18, I met him. He was a confident man, just a year older, who came to “rescue” me from my dysfunctional home life. He convinced me life would be easier and better if I dropped out of school and moved in with him. I believed him and I followed. The word naïve must have been written on my forehead, because our whole relationship was based on his controlling behavior which

After School Satan Club

Page 17

intensified into our marriage. The years of building up my own confidence soon broke down into fragments that slowly vanished from my life. My game face was replaced by a mask that was devoid of everything that was truly me. During a trip to Tijuana, Mexico, he had a tattoo artist carve his name on my back, like a cattle brand. From inside a souvenir shop in Vegas, I peered through a window and watched him talking to a man who appeared to be a pimp. Whatever occurred during their conversation would cause drastic changes once we returned home. He was always trying to make money,

Continue on page 16 1040 Lincoln Rd., Suite A, #124 Yuba City, CA 95991 530-933-1385 editor@ambassadornewspaper.com

The Ambassador

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