My Story
1982 was the fateful year. I was born in October and my mother regretted telling my father about me. She told me in later years that she wished she had simply left him without telling him of her pregnancy. I’m not sure why she went ahead and told him, but she did. Anyway, life went on and my parents stayed together for a few years before things got really hairy.
The next major event was the divorce and departure. My dad won legal custody, but my mom took things into her own hands and abducted me – although she would take serious issue with my verbage here. My fugitive family lived all over Oklahoma, moving around a lot, changing our last name a lot, and lying a lot. (The professionals call this parental abduction, because the professionals are so very creative at naming things.) Anyway, during this gypseian existence, my mother told me a slew of horrible things about my father and I lived in terror of him, having no real recollection of my own.
In 1988 I became a Christian. As a kindergartener, I attended a private Christian school. (The main reason for this was because it was harder for our pursuers to find me at a tiny private school, but I believe God had His own reasons.) My kindergarten teacher, Joyce Bennight, told me about Jesus. Very soon, I gave my heart to Him. My conversion was very real and I was very concerned about making sure He knew that I was serious about my repentance. I prayed repeatedly to Him that I was not kidding and that I really meant everything I said. So, with childlike faith, I began my walk with my Lord. And, as a 5-year-old, I began reading my brand-new King James Bible, starting with Genesis. Good Baptist. 
As I grew, however, the seed in my spirit had little room for cultivation and was mostly buried. I just lived life the way I felt like I had to and mostly forgot my pursuit of God. Life went on and we kept moving… until they found us.
1994 ended in what seemed like tragedy for me. It was early December and, to spare the details both in interest of brevity and in interest of not conjuring up old feelings, a SWAT team surrounded our house with really large guns drawn and removed my mother and myself in separate squad cars. Needless to say, we had been discovered.
I went to live with my father while my mother went to live in a federal penitentiary. I was in 7th grade.
Throughout my time with my dad and step-mom, I did very well in most aspects of my life. I went back to church and became extremely involved in my youth ministry. I also loved choir at church and at school. And, despite the junior high school’s apparent unease at enrolling a student with such a spotty educational background into 7th grade when she was already young for the grade, I proved them wrong. I was very offended at the advice that I finish out the year I had started as a 7th grader down at the elementary school as a 6th grader. So, they tested me. I passed semester exams for classes I’d never taken. After that, they let me in. And I made the honor roll. Punks. 
Things went on similarly into my senior year. Then my boyfriend and I broke up and I found no reason to stay where I was since my life had ended. *puts the back of her hand against her forehead and sighs* So, I packed up all my stuff, informed my father that I was leaving, and I proceeded to drive myself and my little dog, Mindy (the very best dog ever in the world), to my mother’s apartment. (She had since been released from prison and remarried.) Deluded by a misremembered memory of a life past, I thought this would be the best route for me to go. I was in for a serious dose of reality.
I had become a different person and my memory was faulty. My mother and I were on opposite ends of the spectrum in every way possible and living in the same house was simply not good for either of us. I got my own apartment at 19.
Around this time, I met and began dating the wonderful, godly man my Father created for me. God used him to initiate and to support me through a long process of learning to face reality. God revealed to me my broken heart and my broken life in ways I was never ready to see before. Slowly, He has confronted the evils in my life, healed me of much of my hurt, and revealed to me my own wretchedness. I am still learning how to stop hiding inside myself and how to be the person He made me to be. Through it all, He is bringing glory to Himself.
I have already said more than is probably necessary, so I’ll speed things up and get to the point. I am now a teacher and my husband is a surgical resident. We live in Texas and we (I) have a cat named Spooky. (Mindy, the best dog ever in the world, passed away. But, I now have the best cat ever in the world, Spooky. I digress.) I have a crazy family, but my husband handles it very well and I handle it much better than I used to. I love my family – both sides. I try to see people for who they are as best as I can and I have to forgive the past. How could I not? My Jesus has forgiven so much of me.
Well, I guess that was a lot to put out there in cyberspace. I felt like, for some reason, I was supposed to. I hope that it does nothing except point you to the grace and the providence of God. Everything happens for a reason. (That reason is His glory… for I would never have known His grace, mercy, and goodness the way I do without His unusual plan for my early life.) Maranatha.
Update: Although I find it unlikely that anyone who shares a similar story just read mine, it is possible. Two hundred thousand children are abducted by a parent every year in the United States. I found this organization that has testimonies from people all over the country with stories just like mine.
Further information and other resources:
Impact of Parental Child Abduction
Family Abduction: How Bad Can It Be?
Honest Questions Answered
Amanda said
Wow. Had no idea your life was so…well, what it was! That’s amazing. Praise the Lord for Joyce Bennight teaching you about Jesus. Just think of all that could have happened had you not had the Spirit along with you for that ride. I’m sure He protected you from making a lot of choices you could have made.
Several Little Things « Vanity of Vanities! said
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Andi said
Angela,
I always knew this was your story, but it was heard second and third hand years ago. To hear it directly in your words, with your sweet voice in my mind, I am touched deeper than when I originally heard it. You have been chosen from your family, dear friend, like I in my family, like Joseph of old from his family. Why we have been chosen, is only known to Him, but here we are. It is a burden on some levels for sure, but it is our fate and fighting what He has in store for our little lives, fighting His love, is like fighting the wind in a hurricane: energy wasted. At your young age, you are inspiring to me on so many levels and I can’t tell you enough how thankful I am that your my sister.
Love you!
Andi
cohesivefaith said
Angela,
thank you for your vulnerability and thank you for blessing us with your story of how God has worked in your life.
I was truly blessed by it – esp. the part about how you were able to forgive as the Lord forgave you. Forgiveness can be so hard, but in light of what God has done for us, yes, it can be done.
And how appropriate that you end with ‘maranatha’.
My Cohesive Faith blog
Longing for Holiday said
Wow, I am glad I stopped by. You write so well I almost read every word (a huge compliment from this blog skimmer), not that the story was boring! I’ll subscribe to keep tabs on what you write.
stephanie said
Angela,
Thank you for sharing your life and heart. Your story has touched me. You are amazing!!! I am so glad that you found Christ and an amazing husband. You are blessed.
Love,
Stephanie
Vanity of Vanities! said
Ah – Christ found me!
And my husband is definitely amazing… I don’t deserve him.
Beth said
I have a very close friend who shares a very similar story, so similar it’s kind of spooky. She doesn’t share much about the years she was with her mom, so I don’t even know how she came back to live with her dad when she was a teenager. But she did find God and an amazing husband, too, and their wedding was one of the most moving experiences in my life. She cried, he cried, our pastor cried…I was a mess…because God took this broken girl with such a broken family and restored her to have a loving in-law family and a loving church family. They’ve been married 5 years, and things still aren’t great with her family(mom, dad, sisters, step-parent), but God seems to be working in them a bit lately…yay! I don’t know if your link would help her in anyway, but I’ll certainly check it out and pray about sending it to her.
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thepennypincher said
This is a very touching and beautiful story! I do have one question. How is your relationship with your father? Are you close to him or did the abduction hinder you and your father in your long-term relationship?
Vanity of Vanities! said
That’s an excellent question. Actually, the entire situation has deeply wounded my relationship with both my mother and my father.
As many former abductees have attested to, the relationship with the abducting parent is generally irreparably strained. I would agree with that assessment, as my mother and I have gone through periods of not speaking with each other for various reasons that have their root in “the big reason.” While I have a connection with her because she raised me during my formative years, our relationship is generally strained. She has never admitted to any wrongdoing and, as a result, we cannot really move forward in any real healing.*
To answer your original question, my relationship with my father has been, in some ways, superficial. I have no ill-feelings toward him at all, but I also have less of a connection with him than I probably should. When I lived with him, I was so wrapped up in hating him because of my mother’s stories and just imagining how my life would be better without him that I never attempted to really know him. By the time I was healed of most of that selfishness, much of the damage had already been done. It’s too distant; it’s too weird. I don’t view my dad’s side of my family the way I should. Imagine never having a father; imagine never thinking you’d ever meet your father. Then some man walks into your life along with his family and you’re expected to call them “Dad, Grandma, Grandpa…” It’s like I think I know in my head how I should have been feeling all along, but it’s not the same. We’ve been slowly getting closer in recent years, but… it’s just not the same.
My abduction forever altered my relationship with every family member, as everyone “takes sides” and everyone is hurt by it.
*Don’t think that means I haven’t forgiven her. It means we cannot talk about the issue without her insulting me and my father and bringing about another long period of not talking. I have forgiven her, but we can’t really resolve the issue.
thepennypincher said
It is tough. I am in a situation where my children were partially abducted: I can still talk to them on the phone, but my wife has made it impossible for me to see my children more than once every year or two (they live in another country). Even when I see them, she does everything to make it possible for me to really spend any time with them. At this point, my only hope is that they will find me when they are adults and can make their own choices as to when and where to see me without interference. I pray to God that I will be able to have a relationship with them, but do worry that by then it will be too late.
Vanity of Vanities! said
I am so sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine how it feels to be where you are. I would say that the very best and most powerful thing you can do is pray. Pray for your children, for your wife, and for yourself. Pray for God’s healing and intervention. Ask Him to quicken all of your hearts towards Him. Be thankful that your children know who you are. That would definitely have made a very big difference to me. Also, make the most of every opportunity you have with your children. Leave them with no doubt that you truly love them.
VelocityGirl said
I got on this blog because of a generated link or something, but that is just such a story.. I’m not too sure what to feel right now..
Oh, but I do know that your cat Spooky has an AWESOME name.
Mary said
I’m glad talking about it helps you but I don’t think you will ever truly understand until you have kids. I’m glad you don’t remember because I do. Love you baby sis.
Kristel said
Wow.
I found your blog when you left a comment on the ‘Unlikely Christians’ blog.
I’m so glad you shared your story here because I have never met anyone who has gone through the circumstances you have. Praise God that He works in all these crazy different ways to bring glory to Himself.
God bless you!
Vanity of Vanities! said
Thanks, Kristel!
The Day Jesus Walked Up To My Car – Guest post by Angela said
[...] week it’s the turn of Angela from Vanity of Vanities. Angela has an incredible testimony and writes from the heart. I love reading her blog and am so grateful that she decided to share [...]
JD Collier said
Wow! Amazing story and isn’t it amazing what God can do in our lives!
Vanity of Vanities! said
Yes, it is! Thanks for stopping by.