From Pimp to Pastor: One woman's journey from tragedy to triumph

From Pimp to Pastor is a true story validating one woman's journey from the streets of Seattle to pastor of a ministry that supports the homeless. Published in TheBlaze.

At age six, Carrie wasn’t allowed to call her mother “mom”.   Unless they were in public. Carrie was repeatedly told that she had no value, that she was worthless.  Her mother openly stated that she didn’t want to love Carrie.  “From that moment on, in my head I ‘knew’ or thought that I had no value,” shares Carrie.

At age fifteen, Carrie’s mother forced her to sign an emancipation agreement.  She then gave Carrie $300, and put her on a bus to Seattle.  She knew no one.  And no one came looking for her.  She felt hopelessly lost and totally forgotten.

Finding a box behind a downtown appliance store, Carrie called it home.  Meals were twice daily discards taken from a nearby convenience store dumpster.  She accepted a pimp’s offer to run money back to him from his teenage prostitutes in exchange for 30 percent of the cut.  The girls were 15, Carrie’s age.  The mere thought of their plight made Carrie physically sick to her stomach.  She had to disconnect emotionally just to survive. 

Their young age made it easy for the pimp to trick the prostitutes into becoming fully dependent on him for their food, clothing, their life.  “Typical kids rely upon a parent to care for them.  To the girls, the pimp had become their parent,” shares Carrie. 

When the pimp was arrested, the girls found themselves without a parent.  Carrie stepped in.  She was terrified of her newfound responsibility, but the role allowed her to move into the hotel.  She now had a warm bed, a free shower, and reliable food.  This excited her.  In her thinking, it was going to be okay.  It also gave Carrie a deep sense of responsibility for the teenage prostitutes, wanting to make sure they would always be cared for.

But then one morning, Carrie woke up with a strong desire to return to school.  She contacted a police officer in downtown Seattle, and told the officer where the girls were.  She never saw them again.

Carrie went back to high school on her own accord, but the lack of support quickly led to a teenage pregnancy.  At age 17, she gave birth to twins.  One passed away, the other struggled to survive.  Carrie immediately became pregnant again. 

By age 21, Carrie was grieving the loss of one baby, had two living children, and had just gained custody of a 12 year-old drug addict in need of love.  She had also started a pattern of abusive relationships.  The first abuser was a contracted hacker for a major software conglomerate.  But each time Carrie fled, she was forced to apply for state aid for her children.  The abuser would ping her social security number and find them.  No matter where she went, he found them.  Always.  She lived in fear.

Her next abuser tortured her.  Carrie’s escape came one morning after he had kicked a bucket of industrial cleaner on her.  With skin burning, she ran outside in nothing but her underwear and t-shirt.  He came out after her to finish the verbal portion of his assault, but the very moment he returned inside their home, Carrie made her escape, bolting to a nearby home.  The homeowner called 911.

Another abusive relationship followed.  Carrie’s turning point came after she was caught attempting to flee by swimming across the border into Canadian waters, pulling her kids in a boat.  She was returned stateside, and hooked up with a ministry that kept them safe.  They were offered a free hotel room for two years along with medical care.  The ministry also offered Carrie a job as administrative assistant.  With no skills or training, she didn’t know what she was doing, but she did know the people she was doing it for, and that’s when the desire to give back began to take hold.  “I feel like I have to give back to where I came from in order to heal,” shares Carrie, as the tears trickle down her soft cheeks.

Her pivotal moment came at age 32.  By then a mother of eight, Carrie was attending church with her children thinking that the ex-con speaking to the congregation was a joke.  Until he spoke the words that stole Carrie’s breath, and have since become etched in her heart.  “He said that salvation was free, and even if I was the only person in the entire world, it would still be offered to me.  I’m 32 years old by this time with eight children, single, lost, alone, don’t know what I’m doing, and I’m thinking that if its free, I don’t have to work for that.  So just me, in my own skin, exactly like I am, right this very second.  That I had value to this god that would allow his son to die for my salvation.  That was like a pivotal breathing moment.  I don’t think I had ever taken a breath before.  Right then, I totally recognized that the skin I’m in is just enough.” 

Recently celebrating her birthday, Carrie is now a 43 year-old pastor.  Her ministry operates a nonprofit thrift store that supports six different projects benefitting the homeless.  Her mission is simple:  she wants people to know that they have value.  “That they deserve every breath that they are given.  That they deserve to be safe and comfortable, and happy and loved and remembered.  That they are not forgotten.” 

Looking back at her time on the street, she shares, “I wanted to feel remembered, but I didn’t.”  She now remembers the forgotten, loves the unloved, and values the people who feel like they have no value.  “I just want other people who felt like they were forgotten to be remembered.” 

Making the transformation from street kid to pimp to minister, Carrie feels that if she can do it, anybody can.  And she has made it her life goal to help them.

The Invisible Guy in the Wheelchair

While sitting in a waiting room, Carrie couldn't help but notice the man in a wheelchair. He was very large, his legs were severely discolored, he had lots of tattoos, and appeared blind in one eye. Despite his size, he sat as if trying to make himself invisible. So Carrie

decided to ask him about his tattoos. He was hesitant to answer at first, clearly not used to being acknowledged. But her question led to a genuinely interesting conversation. 

Carrie noticed that the more the man talked, the straighter he sat, almost like a wilted flower that had just been fertilized. In fact, his whole demeanor seemed different, happier. Carrie was then called into her appointment so their conversation ended, but disguised as one innocent question about tattoos was actually the gift of acknowledgement to a man in a wheelchair who thought he was invisible to the rest of the world.

Sometimes all it takes is one question, one smile, one gesture, to change someone's journey.  And it only took a moment. 

#SharewithMe #PowerofOne #Hope

Size Doesn't Matter

I didn't go anywhere yesterday.  One of the perils of a home office is that I might not change out of my yoga pants.  Yet through my work, and thanks to today's technology, I'm constantly crossing paths with others.  While many of these moments are with family and friends, and others are with collaborative partners, some are souls in need of a virtual hug.

Whether important or insignificant, random or carefully choreographed, every path crossed is actually an intersection.  And whether one is wearing a designer suit or a pair of well-loved yoga pants, every intersection offers each of us a golden opportunity to impact the path of someone else.

One beauty in being the power of one is that size doesn't matter.  Nor does the setting, or the caliber of the person momentarily sharing your intersection.  It need not occur on that once-in-a-lifetime grand stage.  The moments that often hold the greatest potential can happen when we cross paths with strangers in that random intersection.  It can be the simple act of meeting a stranger's eyes and smiling.  Or holding the store door open.  Or saying those two easy words known in every language:  thank you.

No, size doesn't matter at all.  But every instance, every intersection, holds all the power you need to offer a random act of kindness that can change someone's journey.

What is the Power of One?

It takes one song to change a mood, one turn to change a journey. One smile can turn an entire day around.  After losing Aly, facing her sweet 16 birthday without her was overwhelming on many levels.  I knew I couldn't ease the heartache, but I could spend her birthday making a difference in the lives of others.  Doing so, in turn, would lift my heart.  But one pay-it-forward random act of kindness wasn't going to suffice. 

Instead, an army of Aly's friends planned something that would touch the lives of 50 strangers in a single afternoon.  Small organza bags in Aly's favorite shade of blue were lovingly filled with a handful of chocolate Hershey Kisses and one inspirational quote printed from the computer.  On February 11, 2010, Aly's 16th birthday, her friends set out to distribute those little blue bags to total strangers as a random act of kindness in memory of my daughter.  

By the end of the afternoon as the girls one by one returned empty handed, the smiles on their faces warmed my soul and the stories they shared lifted my heart.  One bag was handed to a husband and wife in a restaurant.  When the teenager explained that the bag was in memory of her beloved friend Aly, the husband and wife began weeping in gratitude, for they too had just lost a daughter.  Another bag traveled hundreds of miles across state lines, and the recipient was so touched that she became determined to track me down to share just how much that pretty blue bag meant to her. 

On a single day, February 11, 2010, fifty small blue bags filled with chocolate Kisses and one inspirational quote made their way to random strangers, touching the lives of both the givers and receivers. 

My message is this: Be it large or small, we all hold the power to impact someone's life in a single moment with one word, one smile, one gesture. And today I invite you to join me in embracing your own power to change someone's mood, turn their entire day around, and possibly even their life. Join me in being the Power of One. ​​