by Mykel Trahan
I hope my testimony will help women who are victims of domestic violence. Domestic violence is a cycle of abuse that
transcends generations. The pattern of domestic violence is more than psychological; it is also spiritual. It is a mechanism of
mental conditioning designed in hell to perpetuate generational curses of poverty and violence. It began with Cain, the
firstborn of Adam and Eve. Cain slew his brother in a jealous rage without remorse and without repentance. As a result, the
Lord cursed him with poverty and homelessness. The perpetrator, Cain, even had a fear of becoming a victim of his own sin.
(Genesis 4:1-12) The enemy attempts to inflict violence and the Curse of Cain in marriages, relationships, families and every
generation via the sin of jealousy. Hence, the root spirit of domestic violence is jealousy.
Although as a child I witnessed hostile, dysfunctional, emotional and sometimes physical abusive relationships, I never believed
that I would fall victim to a similar, but worse, pattern of abuse. I had also been the victim of sexual molestation by two adult
male family friends. At the vulnerable age of 19, I married my high school sweetheart. I thought I knew him very well; I had
known him since pre-school. After we were married, everything changed. He began to drink and hang out with his brothers.
His family, also black, disliked me and would rather that he were with a white woman because his brothers both dated white
women. They said I thought I was too much because I went to college. I soon realized that his family was dysfunctional as
well; and the cycle of abuse I had experience with my family resumed/continued in my marriage.
The very first time my ex-husband struck me, we were three years into the marriage and I was one month pregnant with our
second child. He struck me in the presence of his family for no apparent reason. I was shocked, embarrassed, hurt and
surprised; I felt severely betrayed. The fact that I was pregnant was not even given consideration. The next day, he
apologized and promised he'd never do it again. Nonetheless, the abuse escalated; he was drinking more and more and
beating me as often as he drank. The physical abuse was compounded with the psychological and emotional attacks from my
in-laws. I kept the abuse a secret away from my family.
My ex-husband became more and more jealous and obsessive with me. I became pregnant a third time within two months of
the delivery of my second child. He then decided not to maintain employment and drinking became his full-time job. Our family
quickly slipped into poverty. He continued to beat me well into my ninth month of pregnancy with my third child. Eight months
into my pregnancy, he lifted me off the floor by the neck and cast me down onto the hard kitchen floor with all his strength.
Three weeks after I gave birth, he and his family conspired to attack and assault me. For no reason, his aunts and cousins
lured me out into the yard and he watched as they took turns holding me down while beating me. He dared me to fight back.
It was a nightmare. Within months, he became even more psychotic.
He daily ransacked our house in violent fits and rages, harassing me constantly. He held me hostage and I became a prisoner
in my own home. I couldn't go to church. I couldn't go to the store. He would not allow me to go anywhere without him. He
raped me repeatedly, and masturbated and ejaculated in my face. He cut all of my clothes and shoes into pieces with a knife;
he pulled out most of my beautiful hair by the roots and tried to burn me in the face with a hot iron. He said my hair made me
think I was pretty. I prayed to God, Help me! The presence of God prevented the iron from burning me. The Lord
supernaturally placed a force field between my face and the hot iron. My ex-husband tried really hard to burn me, but he wasn't
stronger than God. I used to cry out to God and ask where He was. Why did the Lord allow me to go through this? I contacted
the law enforcement many times; my neighbors would call as well. The sheriff threatened to arrest me and take my children
and place them in foster care if I pressed charges against this monster. I felt there was no way out. I had no money and
nowhere to go.
One day a strange old woman walked up to me and told me that she dreamt that my husband cut my throat and killed me with
a pocketknife; she said he really had one. I never saw her before and haven't seen her since. I believed every word she said;
I learned he really did have a small pocketknife. I was tired of the false imprisonment, the beatings, the fear, the dread, and
the hostility and I finally summoned up enough courage to leave him, with no resources in sight. I took my children and moved
in with a friend. However, my ex-husband did not let go of me so easily. He began to stalk me dressed in camouflage attire.
He tried to run me off the road several times when I was driving. Once when he saw me at a nightclub, he hunted me down in
public on foot like a wild animal. I was finally tired of running and decided to outsmart him.
The thin line between love and hate vanished. I passionately hated him with more intensity than I once loved him. I lured him
in by acting as if I wanted him back; I offered my body. He took the bait. I grabbed a ceramic coffee cup and bashed his head
in. I took off running, hoping that I killed him. I left town with my children, and that was the last time he had any physical
contact with me. I didn't have any resources and was forced to move in with my parents; back to the community where I was
raised. I thought it was a safe haven. To my surprise, the emotional and verbal abuse I suffered as a child in my community
resumed, which further exacerbated the damage that was already inflicted on me by my ex-husband. I turned to alcohol,
fornication, partying and prescription drugs to cope with the psychological imbroglio in my mind. I began to suffer from anxiety,
insomnia and nervousness. I realized that after the sedation from partying and control substances wore off I was still left with
the open wounds from abuse. I quickly fell into depression.
It was then that I received my first wake-up call. One night, after taking 2 valiums and a glass of tequila, in order to myself of
insomnia, I fell into a deep, comatose-like sleep. My body was heavily sedated, but my mind was intensely alert. I could even
hear my own heart beat. I vividly dreamt that I went to hell; satan showed me my name in his books. At that time, I believed
that I was basically a good person and I wondered why I would be sentenced to hell. I began a mystic journey in search of
God through experimentation of different religions. Months later, I fled to Long Beach, California, struggling with my small
children.
One day, my 6-year-old daughter entered my room and told me she had a visitation from Jesus. She said He said He was
concerned about me. I knew she wasn't lying or pretending, because we hadn't been to church since she was 3 years old, how
would she know about Jesus or even remember Him? A friend left a King James Bible in my home. I began to read it. I later
found a church and surrendered my life to Jesus. My children and I continued to live below the poverty level; my welfare checks
and food stamps were always delayed or misplaced by the postal service. We did not have a car or a ride to church. We
suffered tremendously and were forced to move to a gang- and drug-infested neighborhood. We were penniless.
It was then that I fervently and earnestly sought the Lord and the Word daily through forced fasts and tears. I received the
Holy Spirit; He spoke to me in an audible voice. I was delivered from every control substance, fornication, hatred, cigarettes,
bitterness and every work of the flesh. I began to have spiritual encounters with the Lord. I had visitations from angels and
Jesus. An angel told me that I was an evangelist and that the Lord was going to use me for the End Times. I did not know that
women evangelists or preachers existed. I began to understand mysteries of the universe and increase in the knowledge of
the spirit realm. The Lord would show me visions of the End Times and the Judgment. I became very knowledgeable in the
Word in an extremely short period of time. I was well educated by the Holy Spirit.
I had no church, no pastor or friends. The Holy Spirit began to develop my gifts in worship, tongues, song, prophecies,
revelation-knowledge and interpretation of dreams. By the time I found a church, I was already a Bible scholar. My pastor, who
was a Bible scholar, was impressed by my advanced knowledge in the Word. He asked me who was my teacher I told him it
was the Holy Spirit. My pastor allowed me to conduct and teach Bible study and Sunday school at times. I was faithful in the
ministry, working in any area that needed me, even cleaning the toilets. He later recognized my call to the ministry and licensed
me as a minister and evangelist at the age of 26-years-old. I am still teaching and preaching today!
It was my ex-husband's jealousy and the jealousy of his family that was the catalyst for the abuse I suffered. Jealousy was
the gatekeeper demon that opened the door in my life for violence, fear, depression, sexual sin, drugs, alcohol, poverty,
homelessness, (Genesis 4:12) disparity, hatred, murder and every work of the flesh (Galatians 5:19-21). The enemy attempted
to create a network of sin to insure my entrance into hell. Victims of domestic violence often become the perpetrators,
co-dependents or condoners of domestic violence. Had my children succumbed to this lifestyle, they too would become the
victims and/or perpetrators of domestic violence, and thus the cycle would continue. Societies begin with individual families.
Domestic violence in families incubates and breeds perpetrators and predators of all kinds of evil in society in search of victims.
It is the birth canal of sin for satan, who walks up and down the earth as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. This
lesson in the Word and in life has taught me one thing-- Jesus is the key to any deliverance. Now the web of sin and the Curse
of Cain (domestic violence) in my life and in the life of my three daughters are broken, in Jesus Name, Hallelujah!
Copyright 2008. Mykel Trahan Ministries. All rights reserved.
