Who Will Wipe My Tears Away?: My Story

Who Will Wipe My Tears Away?: My Story

by Evangelist Earlina Denise Gilford-Weaver

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Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781426930089
Publisher: Trafford Publishing
Publication date: 04/20/2010
Pages: 112
Product dimensions: 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.23(d)

About the Author

Earlina Denise Gilford-Weaver was a registered nurse for seventeen years and now runs an outreach ministry for women, youth, and the homeless.
She lives in Youngstown, Ohio, where she is married with three children, five stepchildren, and five grandchildren. This is her first book.

Read an Excerpt

WHO WILL WIPE MY TEARS AWAY?

My Story
By Evangelist Earlina Denise Gilford-Weaver

Trafford Publishing

Copyright © 2010 Evangelist Earlina Denise Gilford-Weaver
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4269-3008-9


Chapter One

REVELATION: CHAPTER 21 VERSE 7

I am going to starting my story with the age I could remember, lots of us like to talk about what People or family have told us things that happened in our life, but the word of God tells us to speak only things that are seen and not things that we really don't know the facts. I don't want to write hear say only the facts, I never wanted to be a false witness to any thing rather I believe it or not, so here it goes! I am telling what I know, what I have experience in my life, up till this point. If you got kids put them to bed, if you got company talk to them later, if your phone rings let the answering machine get it, sit in a comfortable seat cut off the TV and be ready to feel that God is real!!

Here it is the truth and nothing but the truth in Jesus Name!

I was 8 years old I really never remember my parents only my grandmother and a few aunts and uncles and hand full of cousins. At this time of my life I was living with my grandmother, she had raised her kids and now some of her grandkids, grandma always took us to church and this is when I started hearing about a man name Jesus and God in heaven that we pray to when we need him, at this time of my age they would tell us to pray for things that we want that are good or something we wanted God to change. Especially if things are bad! So I always kept this in my heart and mind. I always wanted to know where and who my parents really were, but we really never talked about it, but I did know their names, so I kept a lot to myself. So growing up with a lot of thoughts to myself was very hard, because I really never knew how to talk to God about it, especially when I could not see him. So as time went by I was about 9 or 10 years old my grandmother would take us over one of our aunts house to stay a lot because she loved to go to bingo, her and my aunt would go and a couple of uncles would care for us, baby-sit, and their type of babysitting was not good it was bad! They would do bad things to me and my cousins and my little sister, they would come into our bedrooms and touch us in places that were bad places, that my grandmother would say that was precious to God, and they would make us touch them in places that felt bad. Sometimes they would pull our legs apart and put something in, and it would hurt. It would hurt so bad that I would pray to God to make them stop. I would pray all the time to God for it would all go away. Make them stop God, and bring something good because this was bad, it would make me shed tears all the time, but he never did. And it continue on and on and on our uncles would threaten us, telling us that we better not tell, because no one would believe us. And we would be sent away to strangers that would do worst things to us, because my mother was a prostitute and my father was a drunk and they did not want me, So we kept it to ourselves, me and my cousin would talk about it among ourselves, and I would talk to my little sister about it. Even my brother could not help me, even through he tried so many times, but they were older and stronger than him. They would beat him up all the time and tell my grandmother that he was bad so he would get in trouble all the time. But my brother never stop trying to help me! No matter what it cost him! As time went by I started to act bad so God could bring good, then my grandmother started to get sick she was caring for us and it got to be to much for her. And by then I was to much for her to handle and I had a favorite aunt that I was so close too, I use to think she was my mother but she was just my aunt she helped my grandmother with us a lot but I that was not enough.

But I was glad to get away from them monsters my uncles. I started getting visits from a man that was always drunk, and my grandmother let me know that he was my father but he was scary but to tell you the truth I did not care, because if I could go with him it would be better than being with my uncle. But my grandmother would not allow him to take me, my grandma would send him off seeing that I was kind of scared of him, and his actions, and there was something he did in the past to me, he had kidnap me and put me in a cage as a baby in a basement, I was told this, but I have memories of this sometimes I don't know how old I was at that time.

He would always say I am your father girl don't be scared of me! In away I was still scared, father or not, his action was crazy. My grandmother never let me go with him, But as time went on grandma had to let someone else care for us, I was scared to go somewhere else, so one day she told us that our mother was coming to get us, I really wanted to meet her, but my brother hated her, and I did not want him to be mad at me so I would act like I hated her to. Even through I was so sad and wanted my mother to take me away from the monster's in my grandmother house, but I love my brother so much I did not want to hurt him, so I would do what he did and say what he say, but our grandmother said we had to go with her even through we said we did not want to go, grandma was tired and she needed some rest, so my brother would get into so much trouble that he got sent away for a while just so he would not go with our mother, but me and my sister went with our mother, she seemed to be very nice and she would buy us lots of stuff, so I was happy, no one coming into the bedrooms to mess with us I was about 10 at this time every thing was okay until our mother start letting these men come over, they were no good, bad men like my uncles, they were left at the house with me and my sister when our mother went to work, and they would look at me so weird and then the touching started to happen again, they would force them self on me and I was scared for my little sister I would see her cry when they would go by her so I would take her place, I had enough tears myself for me and her both, and I did not want her to go through the mess we went through over grandma. So I would protect my sister like my brother would do me and let my mother boyfriends touch me instead, I cried and cried and cried for God to please save me. Since God did not help I had to do anything so they would not hurt my baby sister. My mother would come home and I would tell her that I did not like her boyfriend because they were bad and mean to me and my sister, she would get mad at me like she hated me and told me to stop lying, I was not going to mess up her life, I better be glad she came and got me and if I keep lying then she was going to send me away, one day she slapped me across the face with a hot comb that you straighten your hair with, because I kept telling her what they would do to me. So I just stayed quite and kept what ever happened to myself, I got beat every time her boyfriends said I was mean to them. So I let them do what ever. I knew if I fought back like I did I would get beat any way or I would get killed, I see why my brother hated her where is this God my grandmother said you can pray to when things get bad? I guess this was not bad enough for God to hear my prayers, so as time went by, I got rebellious and act up, I hated my mother all she cared about is money and her men, it seemed like they would give her money just to leave the house so they could rape her daughter, I wondered if she knew? And just did not care, or what.

So I started stealing, lying and talking back to my mother and I would runaway all the time, It seem like the streets were safer than grandma house and my mother house, finally I got into so Much trouble that it headed me into being awarded to the state, where they placed me into a juvenile detention home since God would not help my tears to stop maybe the courts would. I stayed in a group homes until I got into foster care and went into about 23 different places in all, I was about 13 thru the 15 years old and believe me it was only 3 good homes I had out of all the foster care homes, that was okay to live in. I had to endue so much abuse such as name calling because I was dark skin, beatings because of other people kids, sexually and being molested by these so called foster mothers husbands, brothers, sometimes their uncles or their older sons. Sometimes I would not eat they would send me to bed with out dinner at times, I had to clean up the whole house by myself, I had got into lots of fights with their children because they would talk about my mother and father, for some strange reason I could not explain why I would get mad because my parents never cared anything about me, if they did they would not allow these things to happen to me but in my heart I loved my mom and dad and wanted dearly to have an relationship with them, strange but real. I can remember this one foster home I got sent to I was about 14 and it was in Canton Ohio, I was happy to go their maybe because it was not in the hometown I stayed in, and I thought maybe the people would be different maybe only bad things happen where I lived and God would help me somewhere else, This home was big and nice the foster home parents had three children two girls and one boy one was around my age, for about one month everything was great I was so happy, God heard my cry, because every night I would get scared and the foster mother would come and hold me and wipe my tears away with a purple small cloth, I was so scared to get close to her, I was scared to love her or her kids, I loved the one foster sister I had, she was so nice we would go to church together and sing in the choir it was so nice, then one day I came home from church and my make believe family was a nightmare my foster mother wanted me to go in the basement and get some things for her, she had to go to the store and my one foster sister went with her and my foster brother was out with his friends and my one foster sister was in her room, she was a special need child, she had Autism, so she stayed in her room a lot so I was left their to care for her, my foster dad always stayed in the basement I never knew why, they never was in the same bedroom, he was always in the basement working and drinking so he lived down in the basement. We never had a relationship like my foster mother and foster sibling, so I walked down in the basement and I was singing a song we had learn at church and he ask me to come here, I was not really scared because he never done anything to me and I was living their for about 2 months, so I went to see what he wanted and he ask me to help hold some kind of board down for him and I did he started asking me question like do I like boys or men? And I was a pretty black girl, and I had a nice body shape, I was so scared to answer him, I started shaking and told him I had to get back up stairs before they come home, I had to do something for my foster mom, but he grabbed me and said they will not be back for a while, so be quite and stop my crying, he started saying I read your files and you was already damage goods, and no one else would have you, and they would not believe you if you tell my wife, we will send you back from where you came from,

I was so upset with God I did not understand why the lord would allow this to happen in another Town and they would do worst to me. Why did my past follow me here! So here I go again my tears has return I was so ashamed that God never love me enough to not let these tears return. I guess adults just don't know how to love or treat a child like me. Broken, rejected, neglected, molested, ugly, black, a one big failure, this is all they had seen in me, just a messed up kid and just too much work to keep. Well I stayed in this foster home for 6 months I starting getting into trouble so much and my foster mother could not deal with it any more because she said that it would effect her children, so her and the monster in the basement decided to send me away after he suggested that I sleep in the basement, so I would not be poison to his girls, I refuse to sleep down there, and I grabbed a knife to offend myself from going into the basement. So the child service people came and they tried to talk to my foster mother to give me another chance, so we talked and I told them why I was acting out because I did not want to go in the basement because her husband had hurt me, just like he said, she would not believe me she hated me and made them take me away! So here I am again going back to the city of death. And into another place where I stayed in, they called me names, cut my hair to make me look like a boy, mentally and physically abuse me, and made me wear ugly clothes, the only time I dressed nice was when the social workers come and do a home visit. This is the only time I felt pretty on the outside, but after the visit the nightmare on everyone street I stayed with. But I had my share of tears that no one never seen and that was the ones on the inside that no one could get to, not even me could wipe them away. I always remember to pray from my grandmother, I don't know why I did but I always wanted to obey my Grandmother, so I prayed and prayed and prayed till I could not pray anymore for God to please wipe my tears away, then I just gave up on the God my grandmother would talk about. So I tried to kill myself in the group homes they took me too, by taking a lot of pills I was 14 years old when they put me in a mental hospital. This is when I realize no one will wipe my tears away; I am an unwanted child why did God allow me to be born? Cause I was a child of the devil, I had to be because my grandmother said God loves his children, to turn his back on me like this, I could not be one of his children. Was this my punishment for my mother mistakes? for her life being not right and had me? Is this why God could not love me? Or wipe my tears away? I had no life to look forward to, no one will ever love me unless I allow everyone to touch me in ways I never wanted to be touch. Should I allow them to do this to me? so I can get love? I ask God but he never answered me. What kind of God is this that my Grandma said is Love, what is Love? Is it really a thing that you let all men do bad things to you? I know in the bible when I was little, my grandma always told me that God loves virgins and he will bless me if I keep myself for when I get married, so did God hate me because my uncles did things to me? Was it my fault? I was too young to make them stop, didn't God know this? I kept telling myself over and over again. If my tears never get wipe then I will drown. So why live to see my life fail? I will never be nothing that is what my mom always said to me, she said women would never be alone or need money if they use what God gave them.

She said that between a woman legs is money to her riches, I hated to hear her talk like that to me, I never wanted my little sister to be raised by her, I always said to myself when I get big I was going to go back and get my babe sister. But God would never allow me to with the way my life was going. Maybe I would have a chance if the drunk that said he was my father come and get me, or if my brother gets big he would come and get me. It seems like they were the only ones that cared for me, maybe they would wipe my tears away. While I was in the mental hospital it was workers that watch you all the time they kept me so drugged up I really did not know who I was at times. Then one night it was a guy on shift that would always be nice to me, and bring me extra snacks he was nice I thought to myself but deep down inside I knew he wanted some thing, so I tried to hang myself, I just did not like how he touched me and before it got physical I rather take my life then to allow it to happen again. But it happen any way and the workers would not believe me, because the drugs make you say things that was in your mind, this is what they would tell me, but this was not in my mind their kept on telling me that, because of the drama in my life, they said I would think that every man that touch me would be the wrong way in my mind. God still would not let me die! Because I ended up in the hospital and they saved me. From what? Not hell, cause I was in hell. Then I met a lady in the hospital that was so different from any one I have met, she was a patient to at the hospital, she was two doors down from my room and she would here me scream and cry and would come to my room and hold me until I would fall a sleep, who was this lady that cared for me? Why do she care? And she would ask the nurses and doctors about me, and how could she take me home, she wanted to be my mother not a foster mother, but my adopted mother. I asked God why do she want a skinny, ugly, black, messed up, a child with lots of problems, don't she know what a hot mess I was. I was confused, I really did not trust no body, no adults because I knew they did not love me, so why do this woman want me? So I would not get close to this woman because I was scared to trust again or open my heart up to anyone, even through I wanted love and wanted someone to wipe my tears away, but I was scared to be with her especially if she had a husband, male friend, brothers, nephews, uncles, sons or even grandfathers or cousins that were men. But at this time she got the information from the child services, but they had located my real father, he was staying with his sister, my aunt wanted me to live with them. I was glad but scared because I did not know these people at all. But what can be worst go with my real family or try this nice lady at the hospital. But I really had no choice, so they took me to my aunts house and there was that same man that would come over my grandma house drunk, this man was really my father now wonder I was messed up look where I came from, a mom that was a prostitute and a father that was a drunk. I lived with them for awhile my aunt was so nice I liked her so much, she was an angel in the sky in my eyes, but she was gone a lot because of her religion, I had lots of cousins and me and my cousin the girl was very close we did a lot together my father drank so much, we really never spent time together, I did not like the way his breathe smelled he was always trying to kiss me and call me my mom nick name he had for her. My father was there to watch us a lot but I did not care we had a lots of freedom.

(Continues...)



Excerpted from WHO WILL WIPE MY TEARS AWAY? by Evangelist Earlina Denise Gilford-Weaver Copyright © 2010 by Evangelist Earlina Denise Gilford-Weaver. Excerpted by permission.
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