So, you want to know about me?
Alright then, but let me just warn you; my story isn’t all glitz and glamor. It’s full of mistakes and revelations and those little moments in life when you take a step back and think, “How on earth did I get this far?!”. It’s crazy and real and…beautiful, because every story is beautiful. I won’t cover things up, I won’t hide, and most importantly you’re going to see me exactly as I am. So, if you want a peak into the life of someone who makes mistakes and is learning, someone who cares so much about the world around her and who only wants to love unconditionally, and someone who’s maybe just a little bit like you, then…stick around. I may surprise you. I may even surprise myself.
Let’s start at the beggining shall we? That’s often the best place to start.
On October 27 2003 I drew first breath. I was born in Louisiana. I don’t know the town, or the hospital, or even how much I weighed. I know only that I was given the name Layla, Layla Michelle Sue Frith.
(Sue! I mean come on, could have been more creative then that!)
For the first three years of my life I lived in a broken home. My birth mother was a hurting person, and as it goes; “Hurting people hurt people”. I don’t know all the details of how badly I was hurt. I know I didn’t get to eat much, and I seems there was a lot of physical abuse. But in truth, it doesn’t really matter anymore. I forgive my birth mother for hurting me, and someday I hope she too finds peace and true love from The Heavenly Father.
Somewhere around three my life shifted, and I went to live with my grandparents. With me was my sister, Tristy, only fourteen months younger than me. We were like two little goofballs all wrapped up in one person, and people often thought we were twins with our identical blue eyes and blonde hair.
Life at my grandparents was much better, yet still rocky. Both of my grandparents were believers. We kept sabbath on Saturday, ate only biblically clean foods, and called God Yahweh and Jesus Yahushua, the Hebrew names. My grandparents had also came to adopt my older brother, Jacob, who was four years older than me, and my sister Julienne, who was three years younger and who unfortunately had down syndrome.
But Grandma had poor health, and she was unable to take care of us. So one day, she put us up for adoption, and it was the best choice she could ever had made.
At four years old my Father and adopted Mother, as well as my adopted older brother and sister, came to our house in Arkansas and fell in love with us at first sight. It was divine intervention. I had no idea what was even going on and yet Yahweh himself planted the word “Daddy” on my lips. I had only known my Father for a few short hours and I was already calling him Daddy.
Ah, gotta love how Yahweh works.
So, a new chapter of my life began.
On July 25th of 2008, My sister and I drove to a a house out in the woods of Ava Missouri in a red suburban and became the Martincic girls.
With my new life came a new name. I was named Michelle Sarayah Martincic, and let me just tell you, I love it!!! My sister was named Leanna, and we were just as inseparable. Where I was there she was also, and we were never short of giggles. We lived on a farm, which is, just for the record, the absolute best place to raise a couple of girls. Everything was about kittens and chickies and lambs. Oh yes, and the turtles. We loved turtles.
I have wonderful memories of going up to the pasture to see the sheep, or scooping up baby kittens, or watching new chicks hatch from their eggs. We were home schooled, which opened up a treasure trove of wonderful opportunities. Earlier on It was pretty obvious I would be an artist, as well as a writer. I spent a lot of time reading and writing, as well as drawing.
But as much as I would like to say that everything was wonderful, I am afraid it was not. My childhood was bittersweet. My adopted Mother was dealing with a lot of emotional issues, and in the process hurt us, until eventually she had to leave the home. Yet as sad as that is, I believe Yahweh was teaching me resilience.
True, I was hurt. Even now I battle a lot of emotional issues. But I have grown so much, learned so much! And someday I hope to pass it along to another hurting soul.
The older I grew the more I grew spiritually. I learned to fall in love with my creator and with it came a certainty as to my calling; I was going to be a missionary. I knew it in my blood, right down to the very core of me. I poured my passion for life into my writing and art.
My Father began a ministry called Bread of life Giving and Sharing. He purchased a coffee shop called True Brew. It was a non profit organization where all the proceeds go to feed the poor in our community. From there he expanded to also buying a thrift store and a movie theater.
All are staffed 100% by volunteers, and all proceeds from the True Brew Coffee Shop are used to provide meals for those in need. Anyone who is unable to afford meals at home can come in, point to a card on the table (or mention their need to a server), and their meal will be provided for free or a donation of any amount.
This is where I really began to learn what it meant to be a true missionary. I learned sacrifice, giving without expecting anything back, and most importantly, how to really love people. And when things got tough, that’s what I held on to.
A little while later, when I was sixteen, my sister Leanna left the home. She was only fifteen. I miss her, but it was her choice. Pain can either break a person or strengthen them and I think it was just too much for her. She wanted freedom, to find her own way.
I stayed, I worked at the coffee shop, and I held on to my faith by Yahweh’s grace. It was hard. There was times when I felt so broken, so lost, and so alone. But Yahweh truly blessed me. A little while later my Dad remarried a wonderful woman, and life took on a steady rhythm.
I am seventeen now, and I look back at my life in amazement. Yahweh has done so much. Who knew he would take a broken little girl and use her for his glory?
Am I perfect? No. Does this make me some super hero that can brush off pain and trials like a trooper? Haha…no. Absolutely not. I still make mistakes, I still forget to trust, and I still need reminders. But somehow Yahweh uses me anyway, and for that I am truly grateful.
So, there’s my story, or at least part of it anyway. There’s still so much to come, and I just can’t wait to see what Yahweh will do next. If you want to you’re more than welcome to stick around and wait with me.