Praising my Savior all the day long…… I wish I could sing that to make my testimony look pretty, but I would be lying.  I didn’t know anything about praising my Savior and all the day long if I saw a day I could open my mouth and speak without my husband’s permission it was a good day, which seemed like never.  The first time he put his fist in my face, I fixed his favorite dish. He came home threw it on the floor and told me to clean it up. I guess I didn’t clean it up fast enough. I remember crying because I couldn’t see and my face hurt. I was trying to figure out what I did wrong to deserve this. It didn’t matter because as soon as he did it he picked me up kissed my busted lip and my swollen eye, said he was sorry and he wouldn’t do it again. He said he had a bad day at work.  Well goodness, did he always have a bad day at work because I was getting abused 3 to 4 times a week, then I lost count.  It came in so many different forms sometimes getting thrown down steps when I was pregnant, sometimes getting beat with a belt or any item that was close to him.  Then there was the sexual abuse and yes ladies you can be sexually abuse by your husband to the point of surgery where you can’t have any more children for the rest of your life.  Even in that I thought thank God I have two.

People used to look at me and just shake their head, and whisper. It became a norm for me to go to work with black eyes or busted lips or not to come at all because I was in the hospital. Oh the reasons might have been, I feel down the steps or I tripped, or I slipped on some ice. I prayed and asked God help me so many times and God gave me that escape time and time again that is spoke about in I Corinthians 10:13, but I couldn’t identify with it because my self -esteem was so low. I felt ugly, I stop looking in the mirror, I would wear clothes he wanted me to wear, I ate what he wanted me to eat or nothing at all. I couldn’t speak unless he said so. I DIDN’T KNOW WHO I WAS!!!! I had lost myself…

Why don’t you call the police some would say, you’re just as crazy as him they would say. You must enjoy him beating you up.  They didn’t know my story…… I would call the police but because his father was Chief of Police in that town, the police would come, take him out of the house for 10 minutes so he could cool off, let him come home because he promised he wouldn’t hit me again. Well as soon as he got back in the house he would beat me worst. So I stop calling them…. I felt there was nowhere to turn so I tried committing suicide, that way he would never beat me again.  I woke up the next morning in the hospital tubes in my throat, hooked up to every machine there was.. OMG I was still alive this wasn’t heaven and I cried out to God… Why did you let me live? I can’t do this no more I cried over and over…this time God heard my cry but someone in the hospital did too.

I was sent to a place undisclosed to anyone I thought.  I started looking at myself in the mirror and realizing my color in my face wasn’t supposed to be black and blue or red from blood but brown.  I went to find a job and as soon as I put my social security number in the data base, like a hunter tracking a deer his father (Chief of Police) ran records and found me.  I didn’t know what was about to happen because I was finally at peace I thought, working again, had my own place, children were great.  Just like a world-wind I seen someone come in the doors of my job and drag me across the counter as he repeatedly hit and banged on me. Motionless I laid there seem like for hours as I heard people screaming around me and finally the familiar sound of the siren getting closer and closer. They called the police on him, but the damage had been done to me again, not only was I abused in front of everyone, the company fired me like it was my fault. Unfortunately he got off with a slap on the wrist, they found me another undisclosed area and again I was found and fired from another job and another until I realize it was my social security number and change of address card that I was filling out that was being tracked through the Police Station again where his father worked.

After 10 years of mental, physical, and sexual abuse I finally was left alone… Not having to look over my shoulder or worry about being fired from a job, or my kids seeing me distorted in my face.  Finally I felt the love of someone and something I couldn’t explain. (Jesus)I felt that warmness in the morning and that covering of protection at night. Finally I knew I was protected by the one I couldn’t see, but he smiled down on me every morning as I awoke. That name was Jesus!!!! I started liking me, and knowing what I liked to eat, what I liked to wear. I walked with my head up, and learned how to smile again. I even learned it was okay to say some things without getting punched in the mouth and eventually spoke fluently.   I was able to forgive him, but most importantly to truly forgive myself. My most powerful lesson in this was understanding not to keep that destructive life bottled up for the rest of my life because by doing so I was sabotaging my future and  not allowing me to grow and blossom as God intended.  See my trust came back, it took a minute but it came back, my joy came back, my self-esteem came back, and most of all I learned to love again and genuinely.  I was able to forgive my abuser and love me. How you might ask… Through time, through change of thinking, and

Isaiah 55:7-9 captures it all 7 Let the wicked forsake his way And the unrighteous man his thoughts; And let him return to the LORD, And He will have compassion on him, And to our God, For He will abundantly pardon. 8“For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,” declares the LORD. 9“For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways And My thoughts than your thoughts.…

I have been bless to share my story with victims of domestic violence and not glorify the bad but help someone understand you are not alone. The House of Ruth was my home during a part of my dark life where I found hope.  I go to the House of Ruth on a monthly basis and volunteer my services to those who are just like I used to be. I am able to give a smile, a word of encouragement, to hug, to cry and even minister to some. I am able to listen and give hope where no one feels there is hope.  See our stories are the same maybe the name have been changed or the event but the end is you can be restored, revived, and renewed through Christ Jesus who strengthen you.     I AM A LIGHT THAT SHINES AT THE TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN.

Thank you for allowing me to share this testimony of some of my life….. But you don’t know my story…. I would love to share how God continues to bring me out.

My name is LaPonda and I’ve told my story!

LaPonda Lewis

These stories are REAL stories that give an account of either sexual abuse, domestic violence or breast cancer. It is our goal to share as many stories as possible in order to stop domestic violence and sexual abuse and start healing in our nation. If you would like to tell your story please email it to In order to duplicate or re~publish any article from our website you must have the written consent from the founder of Women With Gifts.


2 thoughts on “How I lived to tell about the abuse from my ex-husband

  1. This is an incredible piece! Thank you for sharing! This piece aligns with what I’m trying to do with my website. I’m trying to bridge the disconnect between domestic violence victims and people who aren’t familiar with domestic violence. I would truly appreciate it if you could look at my website and subscribe. I believe you’ll have a lot to contribute to my future posts through comments as you have considerable experience with this topic. I’d like to thank you in advance. Here is a link to my website:

    Again, this is powerful piece and I’m glad I read it. Thank you for sharing.


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