Something to Say

Where I originally come from the people are more reserved and not quick to speak, not quick to reveal themselves. When I joined NCEM in 1990 to serve as a missionary in the Maritimes, I noticed that the Native people here express themselves very well. They’re not afraid to tell you what they think. I was not quick to do that.

I remember when I first got here, a lady asked me, “Do you speak?” I said, “Yes, but only if I have something to say.” I believe I intimidated them at first because they never knew what I was thinking.

I had to learn how to speak. I think I have learned to express myself, and the shyness that I once had is gone. Now, when I go home to visit, my aunt says, “Sometimes I’m afraid of what’s going to come out of your mouth”!

I love the Mi’kmaq and Wolastoqiyik (Malecite) people I serve among, and I think I have become like them. I want them to know Jesus. And I want to use every opportunity to tell what the Lord has done for me.

WHERE WAS GOD?

I was born and raised near Kamsack, Saskatchewan, a place called Cote First Nation. It is home to Saulteaux people, related to Ojibway. When I was a toddler something happened that would change everything for me. My mother, Charlotte, lived with a man who was fine when he was sober, but very mean when he was drinking. When I was almost four years old, my mother died at his hands.

I was old enough to see and know what had happened. My grandfather came to check on us the next day, and found me and my two younger sisters hiding under the kitchen table. I was traumatized. I think I just wandered around not saying anything. I would go to the window and wait for my mom to come back.

After that we were raised by my grandparents. It was a difficult time for them, too. They had just lost their daughter, and they lost a son to suicide that same year. The way they dealt with it was to drink.

I grew up knowing a little bit about God. I knew that He was up in the sky and that He had made all things. At the time, our community didn’t have a minister, and we didn’t go to church. My grandmother knew about God. She had gone to church in her youth and into married life.

As I got older I blamed God for everything, even though I didn’t know who He was. I blamed Him for all the turmoil in my life. I thought that life wasn’t fair, and that it was God’s fault that I didn’t have a mother.

I grew up very angry, but we never talked about our hurts. We just learned to “stuff” things. When my family drank, a lot of anger came out. There were lots of fights in the house, and that was just normal life. At an early age I learned how to drink and the liquor helped me to forget. By the time I was 16 I was an alcoholic. A part of me didn’t want to live anymore – I figured if I drank myself to death, that would be easier than having to deal with things. I was full of anger and hate. If I had the opportunity, I wanted to kill my stepfather.

I heard about Jesus when I was 15 or 16 from my friend, Claudette. She used to tell me that Jesus loved me, and she invited me to church. One time I went to an evening service while I was drunk. “If Jesus loved me, why did I have so much pain in my life?” I wondered. “If Jesus loved me, I’d still have a mother.”

I moved to Calgary, drinking even more on skid row. I ended up in a treatment centre and one day a friend said, “Let’s go to church.” I remember the preacher saying, “There’s some sinners here,” and my friend whispered, “He’s talking about us.” She said, “Let’s go down to the front and make him think that he’s saved two souls.” Like a fool, I followed her down and said the Sinner’s Prayer. But I didn’t understand the Gospel and had no idea what I was saying.

One other day I must have met a Christian because the next day I found a tract in my pocket. It talked about Jesus dying for my sin. But I didn’t see myself as a sinner. I was where I was because the world and everyone else had done me wrong. I still didn’t understand who Jesus is. I knew that God was supposed to be in control of all things, and I thought that He wasn’t doing a very good job.

In Meadow Lake, Sask., I had a friend, Sarah, and we would drink together. She would talk about Jesus dying on the cross, and that only those who believe in Him will go to heaven. “Where do those who don’t believe go?” I asked her. She said they wander around in darkness, and never see the light of day.

But Sarah never asked me if I wanted to believe in Jesus. I think it was because she wasn’t living right. She used to sing at church, though she was backslidden. Not long after she was murdered, and I was so sad. It seemed like people around me were dying, and I thought that probably I would die before too long.

“IF YOU DON’T STOP …”

Back home I kept drinking and always ended up in the drunk tank. The police would let me out the next day and would often say to me, “Venus, you’re young, but you’re going to die if you keep this up.” One day I wound up in the hospital and the doctor told me, “If you don’t stop, you’re going to die.”

One morning I woke up in my hospital bed, laying there thinking about my life. I was 24 years old and had nothing to show for it. My life flashed before my eyes. God brought to my memory every person who shared about Jesus with me, from Claudette to Sarah to Susie … everyone. I remembered everything that they had told me about Him.

I thought, “Okay, God, if what people say about you is true, then I have no where else to go. If you are real, I give you everything I have.” That day I knew that things had changed! My family came to see me and I told them that I was done drinking. That was January 10, 1985, and I’ve never had a drink since.

By then we had missionaries on the Reserve and I started attending church. They talked about Jesus dying on the cross for our sins, that everyone was a sinner. I realized then that I was a sinner! Previously I had thought, “Well, I don’t do bad things. I just drink.” Now I realized that sin was everything that was not pleasing to God – everything: my lies, my deceit. I had never killed anyone, but I hated. I knew that, in God’s eyes, it was just like murder.

That day I confessed to God that I was a sinner, and received God’s forgiveness. I thought, “Now I’m bound for heaven. This is real!” I started reading my little Good News Bible, and the first verse I memorized was John 3:16. That verse was new to me and I realized for the first time that I had eternal life!

AT WORK IN MY LIFE

Soon I was off to attend Key-Way-Tin Bible Institute at Lac La Biche, Alberta. Actually, I would have preferred to stay home. I had no money, and had never worn a skirt in my life. But people helped with finances, and soon I was on the bus. I had no idea where I was going or what I was getting myself into.

My first year at Bible school was very difficult because God started working in my heart about my unforgiveness towards my stepfather. I had been outwardly respectful because he was the father of my two younger sisters. I could have poisoned my sisters’ minds against their father, but I didn’t. Though we didn’t have a mother, at least they had a father. But deep down I wished that he was dead.

God began to give me love for him, and I asked God to help me find him. I knew he was in prison somewhere, but not sure where. One day I got a letter with his address. I sat there with a pencil and paper asking God what I should write. I told my stepfather that he had altered my life. Then I told him of my forgiveness for what he had done. I told him that I had Jesus in my life. In Matthew I had read that if I don’t forgive others, then my Father in heaven won’t forgive me. To me it didn’t matter if he would ask for forgiveness or tell me that he was sorry. After writing that letter it was like a burden had lifted!

Over the next two years at school, God did more amazing work in me. He gave me a willing heart, whether it was to serve as a missionary, or some other way.

After graduation I joined NCEM, thinking that I would probably be stationed somewhere in western Canada. But God directed me out East in January 1990. Before I moved I had asked my grandmother if she wanted me to stay home and look after her. She said, “No, they need you more than I do.” She gave me her blessing, even though she still hadn’t given her own heart to Christ.

Out East I was praying daily for my grandmother’s salvation. The more I prayed, though, it seemed that life wasn’t getting any better for her, and she kept drinking. “So why am I praying?” I wondered. People told me not to give up, so I prayed and prayed.

PRAYING FOR MY FAMILY

That same year my grandmother was hospitalized. Frank & Mary Braun (EMC missionaries/NCEM assoc.) went to visit her. They told me that when they walked into her room, she was rubbing her hands and saying, “I need my sins to be forgiven. I need Jesus.” They led her to the Lord, and she passed away in March.

I came home and, at the funeral, I had peace knowing that she was with Jesus. When she gave her heart to Christ she told Frank & Mary, “Tell Venus what I’ve done. She’ll be happy.” She was right!

While I continue to serve in the Maritimes, it is my desire for my family back home to come to Jesus. Some are walking with the Lord, and I’m praying for the rest. Sometimes it bothers me that God called me to the East Coast and many in my extended family don’t know the Lord. I have to trust Him with that. I’m trusting that someone will go to them. My prayer is that when the Lord comes back, all of my family will be ready.

It’s not just about getting to heaven. To me, being saved means knowing Christ – that He gave His all for me, that He took my life and cleaned it up. He took the punishment for my sin.

I’d punished myself enough. Christ made me feel that I am worth something. And I’m not just “okay” – I’m “more than okay!” I never really understood love before. I knew my grandmother loved us, but to have that deep love from Someone who accepts us just as we are. Some people feel so unworthy. They say, “Who would want me?” We are all undeserving, but God wants us!

This article was adapted from a “Hope to the Nations” radio podcast. To hear more of Venus’s story, here’s a quick link to Arrowhead Radio …  arrowheadnbc.com/radio

(from Northern Lights issue #550)