Read our November 2009 newsletter. Would you like to receive our newsletter? Fill out the form at the bottom of the page.

Your gifts are transforming lives...
She's not the same person now!

When Cynthia was very young, she remembers being enticed by the peanuts at the bottom of her mother’s drink. To get to those peanuts, though, Cynthia had to drink what was in between – coke and alcohol. She drank anyway.

“I wanted those peanuts,” recalled Cynthia, now 30 and living at Open Arms, the Mission’s shelter for homeless women and children. “The drink gave me a sweet, warm feeling. “

Cynthia began to equate that warm feeling with the love she wasn’t getting anywhere else. But her story is best told from her own mouth:

When I was 2, my Dad gave me Nyquil and alcohol. My parents let me pick up their mixed drinks. By age 4 or 5, I would drink whatever I could. By age 9, I was smoking marijuana. I was abused emotionally, physically and sexually. My parents allowed their friends to sleep with me. I was molested and beaten.

“One time, my dad got us in the car and drove us to Highland Park. We thought we were going to get to play, but he drove past and said, ‘this is where good kids get to go.’

“At age 11 ½, I reported being molested. My parents then separated, and my Mom turned on me. She blamed me for breaking up her family.

At 12 ½, I took to the streets. I wasn’t comfortable with my Mom. I was more comfortable on the streets or in a public restroom. Sometimes, a friend would sneak me into her basement.

“I got food out of gardens. I still love tomato and mayonnaise sandwiches. I knew where the apple and cherry trees were and the grapevines. Village Pantry locks their dumpsters now but when they didn’t, I could get cookies and crackers out of there.

“I dropped out of school in 9^th grade. By 15, I had met my kids’ father. By then, I was using cocaine and meth. I had a son and I thought he would change things, but I didn’t know how to quit using.

“By 19, I had my third child. The kids’ father left and then in 2002, he died of an overdose.

“I hated the world. The only love I got was from drugs. They had become my best friend. I didn’t know how to live or take care of my kids. I wanted to stop using but I didn’t know how. I started to get arrested for neglecting my children. In 2007, I was on in-home detention and they took my kids.

“I began manufacturing amphetamines. I was at the lab one day and went to my knees and told God I needed help. I always knew there was something more than my life.

“I was known to be an addict. I had sores, I was underweight, my face was sunken, my teeth rotten. I was sick, I was [awake] for days on end.

“I was finally jailed with no bond. It was God. I spent 6 months in jail. That’s where I found God and got saved and started reading the Bible. God sat me down and said, ‘it’s time to get to know Me. You’re going to make it with Me.’"

After 6 months in jail, Cynthia asked to be hospitalized before attempting Drug Court, a rehabilitation program where one mistake would cause her to be expelled. She spent 6 months in the Richmond State Hospital where she was treated for drug addiction.

When she entered the doors of Open Arms on July 6, 2009 it wasn’t her first time at the facility, but she was nothing like the person who had stayed there before.

“I wasn’t sure I would be accepted back into Open Arms,” said Cynthia. “I had stayed twice before and been kicked out both times. I didn’t care about anybody then, not even myself. It was a dark time.”

But Open Arms ended up welcoming back the Cynthia who walked through the doors last summer.

“When Cynthia came in this time, I had no idea who she was,” said Kem Howell. “She was smiling. There was a huge transformation.”

At that point, Cynthia had been “clean” for 15 months and had become a Christian. Three months later, Cynthia has grown to the extent that she has been trusted with the leadership role of intern where she settles conflicts between residents, answers the phone, fills supply orders for the residents and makes sure the building is locked. In exchange, Cynthia receives a paycheck.

“The people here have basically taught me how to live,” said Cynthia. “I never knew you could live without drugs. The people here are the family I never had. This place is proof that God lives and that life doesn’t have to hurt.”

Cynthia takes full advantage of what Open Arms offers as far as Bible study and life-skills classes. When asked her favorite Bible verse, Cynthia rattles off Ephesians 6:10-20 from memory.

Drug Court, which can be a 3-year program, entails weekly meetings with Judge Menges and a close watch on her progress.

In the meantime, Cynthia thinks some about the future.

“I am excited that I can have a future without drugs,” said Cynthia. “I can see myself helping people who struggle like I have. I want to do something for God.

“I lost custody of my kids. I still struggle with that. But when they turn 18, they are allowed to come and find me and I know they will. When they find me, they will find the woman that should have been their Mom. They’ll find a woman of God.”

Read Dan's or Cathy's story or others like this in our free newsletter called The Mission Messenger. Sign up to receive our newsletter using the form below. Learn more about our ministry to men and women.

You can Give now to help women like Cynthia find freedom and victory through Jesus Christ over the destructive forces in their lives.