CRYSTAL WESTGATE'S STORY
Over the past year, I have had an overwhelming weight on my heart to be completely transparent and share my testimony in faith that the Lord will let his light shine through me and my experiences to reach those who really need to know that they are not alone. God is always with you no matter the storm.
My mother got pregnant with me when she was 16. My parents married right away before I was born. Unfortunately, their marriage was short lived and only lasted a year. My parents had joint custody of me so I was consistently back and forth between two homes. One morning while my mother was taking me to preschool, I was four years old, I shared with my mother that my paternal grandfather had been touching me inappropriately. I don’t remember too much after that day only that I was no longer allowed to visit with my dad on weekends.
Growing up with my just my mother was not all gravy either. My grandparents were Jehovah’s Witness. My mother believed their doctrine but never followed it. There was excessive drug abuse and domestic violence that went on in our home as my mom jumped from boyfriend to boyfriend. All of them physically abusive to my mom and at times putting her in the hospital. My mother would teeter back and forth from getting clean to falling right back into her drug addiction. During one of her sober times, I was 12. My mom decided to put herself through truck driving school to try to make a better life for us. I was so proud of her when she finished. When I was 14 my mom got called to a job in Nevada but couldn’t take me with her. I assured her that I would be fine to stay at home with her boyfriend and go to school. Unfortunately, he continued to use drugs and I would often keep myself locked in my room to avoid him. My mom would call home and he would sit and listen on the other line to make sure that I did not tell my mom what was going on. One day when I was on the phone with my best friend, he overheard me telling her what was going on. When I hung up the phone, he beat the tar out of me and raped me. When I got away, I ran to my bedroom and locked the door. I jumped out the window and ran to a gas station around the corner. From there I called my best friend’s mother who came to pick me up. I was scared to death to go to the police in fear of what my mom would do when she got home. My best friend’s mom talked me into going and assured me that she would be with me the entire time. I was then placed in the custody of my aunt until my mother got home from Nevada.
When my mom got home, we moved to Ocotillo Wells and my mom rented a mobile home from an older couple who became like parents to me. Later in my life, I began to call them my Godparents because God had blessed me with these amazing people who loved me as their own. My grandmother did her best to teach me the Jehovah Witness doctrine setting up studies and trying to take me to meetings when I spent my vacations with her. The problem was, the doctrine was strict and the only way to make it to the new world was through works. I got into a lot of trouble and I knew that I would never be able to meet the requirements. Throughout high school, I did everything wrong. I partied, did drugs, drank alcohol and was promiscuous. I had no respect for myself or my loved ones.
As I was coming up on my 16th birthday, my mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday. My answer, I wanted to meet my dad. My mom took me to a payphone and looked him up. She called the number and he answered. It was the first time I had talked to my dad in 12 years. We set up a time to meet at his home. When I went to meet my dad, he handed me a King James Bible with his name on it and told me that it was mine to keep. I didn’t understand and the only bible I knew was the one the Jehovah’s Witness’s used.
Two weeks later, I found out that I was pregnant. I was 16 and no where near ready to be a mother myself. My mother wanted me to have an abortion but I knew in my heart that it was wrong and I was determined that I could do this. My mom made the appointment for the abortion but the morning that we were supposed to leave, I refused to go. I would not get in the car. My mom sent me to my uncle’s house as he and his wife had a new baby and they were young parents themselves. My mom pleaded with them to talk me into an abortion. My uncle and his wife were so compassionate. I helped care for the baby and they explained that it would be a tough road but that it was really my choice. I decided to keep the baby and with that, I was determined to be a good mom and provide for him. I dropped out of school and moved to San Diego for more opportunities. I worked my tail off as my education was limited to 11th grade. At one time, I had three part time jobs. My dad helped as much as he could with babysitting and sometimes financially. I finished high school and put my self through trade school. The problem was that even though I was trying to be strong and provide for my son, I was still drinking, partying and being promiscuous. I was looking for love in all the wrong places and I didn’t know the Lord.
When I was 22, I met a man in a bar, he was in the military. We hit it off and I became pregnant a month into our relationship. We decided that we should get married. When I was 36 weeks pregnant with our son, the devastation of September 11th happened. My husband was deployed two weeks before our son was born. I grew very close with my paternal grandmother since my meeting my dad when I was 16. I stayed with her when I was close to going into labor. She sat with me on the bed and sang “How Great Thou Art”. It was her favorite song.
A month later, I received a letter in the mail that our marriage was not legal because my husband was still legally married to his first wife. I was crushed. My husband returned home from deployment a week before our sons first birthday. We filed all of the proper papers in order to have his divorce finalized. Unfortunately, our relationship was headed down the gutter as infidelity and verbal abuse reared its ugly head. We separated three times in that 8 months that he was home each time trying to reconcile. In the 8th month of being home, he received orders to deploy again to Iraq for a year. Two months after he left for deployment, his divorce was finalized. I did not feel that I had the strength to go through this on my own again so I moved in with my dad and my stepmom with the boys. Being close to my grandmother was strengthening for me. Unfortunately she was diagnosed with an aggressive for of Leukemia.
After two months of staying with family, I felt an overwhelming tug at my heart that I needed something more in my life than what I had been seeking. My dad had accepted the Lord and normally attended church at Mountain View Community Church in Ramona. However, I don’t think he attended one Sunday while I was there. One Sunday morning I decided to get up and go to this Church that all of my dads side of the family attended. As I was getting ready, my dad asked me what I was doing. I told him that I was going to church. He asked me where and I told him Mountain View Community Church. My dad was puzzled and said “but you are Jehovah’s Witness”. He then said “Wait for me, I will go with you”. I attended Church every Sunday after. After about a month of attending, I accepted Jesus as my Lord and savior. That was in December. I decided to get baptized and show my dedication to Jesus on January 28th. My dad decided to get baptized with me. My grandmother was too ill to attend but told my uncle that she was so relieved and she no longer worried about my dad and me. My grandmother passed away two days later.
My husband returned home in February and I was so excited to share with him. I thought that this would be a turning point for us. In April we were married for real this time. We moved to a navy base in El Centro shortly after the wedding. I got pregnant again. During my third pregnancy, I had a chance to confront my paternal grandfather who had molested me so many years ago. I wanted to know why and I wanted closure. He was very remorseful and explained that he was sick and needed help but rather than helping, the family swept it under the rug and never spoke of it again. Later during a conversation with the pastor from Mountain View Community church, I learned that my grandfather sought help through the church. In the end, I was able to forgive him for what he had done. He passed away shortly there after.
With our new baby on the way, I thought that things might change for the better between my husband and I. Unfortunately, we were in two totally different worlds. My husband did not believe as I did. I was not allowed to attend church and being a baby Christian, my faith began to fall away. The Infidelity and verbal abuse continued and so I decided to leave. Our baby girl was four months old. I called my Godparents whom my husband did not know and I spoke to on rare occasions. My Godparents came to my rescue. We loaded whatever I could take in their truck and mine and left everything else behind. I had no idea how I was going to start over and with three children. At times I had mentioned going back to my husband but my Godmother talked me out of it. I struggled financially and my Godparents helped me out the best they could. I had fallen away from my faith and I was falling back into my worldly ways of drinking and partying in order to cover up the pain. My Godparents made me agree to attend church with them and I did, often hung over from the night before. During that time, my oldest son now 12 accepted Jesus as his Lord and savior and was baptized. One night when I was at home and had far too many drinks, my Godfather showed up at my door. He saw me at my worst and I was so ashamed as I knew he was so disappointed in me. The next morning, I went to my Godparents house with every excuse as to why he saw my drunk the night before. The only thing my Godfather said to me was “This is not between you and I, this is between you and the Lord”. What he said to me that morning really plagued me. I knew what I was doing was wrong.
Struggling to support my children and living worldly was taking its toll on me. One night I fell to my knees and pleaded with the Lord trying to make a deal. I promised that if the Lord would get me through this, I would give up the partying and stay celibate. I’m sure he giggled at my trying to make a deal. However, I did stop partying and I stayed clear of bars or any functions that could get me into trouble. During that time, I was only working two days a week for a total of $500 a month. How I got by supporting my children and keeping a roof over our heads was Gods grace and mercy. There is no other explanation. I began attending the Christian Center determined to make my walk with the Lord right this time. I started work at the Borrego Clinic and things were finally starting to turn around.
Two and a half years into my celibacy and soberness, I met my now husband by accident. I was at a friend’s house and we were working on some sewing projects. The doorbell rang and there were two friend’s of my friend’s husbands at the door. My friend’s husband was not home at the time and so the men waited around and chit chatted until he got home. I don’t exactly remember what the conversations were about but my husband and I seemed to hit it off. Following that day, my new found friend would venture down to the desert every weekend to hang out and do things with the kids and I. We were building a great friendship. I explained to him that I was a Christian and had no intentions of getting romantically involved with anyone. My friend shared that he had accepted Jesus and been baptized when he was 12 as he used to attend church with his stepmother. He had been deeply hurt in the past as well and was not interested in getting romantically involved either. Eight months into our friendship, a ring came along. I was scared to death and I began pleading with the Lord that this was not the deal. I was not ready to be married again or be involved for that matter. I contemplated breaking it off a few times but the Lord had bigger plans for me. My friend had become my best friend. He loved my children and endured every trial that I faced right along with me. He accepted me with children and all of the struggles that came along with that. We did marry on the two year anniversary of our meeting.
My oldest son who was now in high school was a real handful. It seemed that he was following in my footsteps. I struggled with him continuously and did my best to keep him in church. I often blamed myself for his drug use since I did not set the best example when he was small. When my son was 17, he ran away from home. I was beside myself and with the authorities unable to locate him, I learned what real faith and trusting the Lord whole heartedly meant. I prayed day in and day out. I attended work every day not sure how I was even functioning. All I know is the Lord carried me through those three long months. In the third month, I received a call on my cell phone from an unknown area code. I let it go to voicemail as I was still working. My co worker kept trying to convince me to go take a break and check my phone as that may have been my son. I insisted that it wasn’t and continued working. When I finally did take a break and check my voicemail, it was my son’s voice and he left a number to call him back. I was so shaken that I couldn’t even dial the phone. My co worker had to dial for me. My son answered and all I could say was “are you alive”. He told me he was in Florida and doing ok. He was working and rented a room. From then on, it was an up and down roller coaster with my son. He had gone from Florida to Las Vegas to back home and trouble followed. In 2015, my little blessing of a grandson was born. He stole my heart from first time I heard his little cry. Things with my son continue to be all over the map but I know that the Lord has a plan bigger than I could ever imagine. I trust him whole heartedly. I often think of the Levite woman who bore Moses and set him adrift on the Nile River for the Pharaoh’s daughter to find. How great her faith and trust must have been.
My husband struggled with drinking and it was taking its toll. He totaled his car, went to jail, and we even separated for a bit. I was not going to walk away. Divorce was not an option. The difference this time is that I had faith and trust in the Lord and knew that he would get us through this as well. He sought me out when I was at my lowest points; he carried me and gave me strength when I could not function on my own at all. My husband has been sober now for a while. He is an amazing man. He is still my best friend. He attends church with me and he loves Jesus. I am truly blessed. I now understand why the Lord allowed all of these things to happen when I pleaded with him that I was not ready to marry again. The Lord had a better idea. All I had to do was trust him and have faith.
My mother got pregnant with me when she was 16. My parents married right away before I was born. Unfortunately, their marriage was short lived and only lasted a year. My parents had joint custody of me so I was consistently back and forth between two homes. One morning while my mother was taking me to preschool, I was four years old, I shared with my mother that my paternal grandfather had been touching me inappropriately. I don’t remember too much after that day only that I was no longer allowed to visit with my dad on weekends.
Growing up with my just my mother was not all gravy either. My grandparents were Jehovah’s Witness. My mother believed their doctrine but never followed it. There was excessive drug abuse and domestic violence that went on in our home as my mom jumped from boyfriend to boyfriend. All of them physically abusive to my mom and at times putting her in the hospital. My mother would teeter back and forth from getting clean to falling right back into her drug addiction. During one of her sober times, I was 12. My mom decided to put herself through truck driving school to try to make a better life for us. I was so proud of her when she finished. When I was 14 my mom got called to a job in Nevada but couldn’t take me with her. I assured her that I would be fine to stay at home with her boyfriend and go to school. Unfortunately, he continued to use drugs and I would often keep myself locked in my room to avoid him. My mom would call home and he would sit and listen on the other line to make sure that I did not tell my mom what was going on. One day when I was on the phone with my best friend, he overheard me telling her what was going on. When I hung up the phone, he beat the tar out of me and raped me. When I got away, I ran to my bedroom and locked the door. I jumped out the window and ran to a gas station around the corner. From there I called my best friend’s mother who came to pick me up. I was scared to death to go to the police in fear of what my mom would do when she got home. My best friend’s mom talked me into going and assured me that she would be with me the entire time. I was then placed in the custody of my aunt until my mother got home from Nevada.
When my mom got home, we moved to Ocotillo Wells and my mom rented a mobile home from an older couple who became like parents to me. Later in my life, I began to call them my Godparents because God had blessed me with these amazing people who loved me as their own. My grandmother did her best to teach me the Jehovah Witness doctrine setting up studies and trying to take me to meetings when I spent my vacations with her. The problem was, the doctrine was strict and the only way to make it to the new world was through works. I got into a lot of trouble and I knew that I would never be able to meet the requirements. Throughout high school, I did everything wrong. I partied, did drugs, drank alcohol and was promiscuous. I had no respect for myself or my loved ones.
As I was coming up on my 16th birthday, my mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday. My answer, I wanted to meet my dad. My mom took me to a payphone and looked him up. She called the number and he answered. It was the first time I had talked to my dad in 12 years. We set up a time to meet at his home. When I went to meet my dad, he handed me a King James Bible with his name on it and told me that it was mine to keep. I didn’t understand and the only bible I knew was the one the Jehovah’s Witness’s used.
Two weeks later, I found out that I was pregnant. I was 16 and no where near ready to be a mother myself. My mother wanted me to have an abortion but I knew in my heart that it was wrong and I was determined that I could do this. My mom made the appointment for the abortion but the morning that we were supposed to leave, I refused to go. I would not get in the car. My mom sent me to my uncle’s house as he and his wife had a new baby and they were young parents themselves. My mom pleaded with them to talk me into an abortion. My uncle and his wife were so compassionate. I helped care for the baby and they explained that it would be a tough road but that it was really my choice. I decided to keep the baby and with that, I was determined to be a good mom and provide for him. I dropped out of school and moved to San Diego for more opportunities. I worked my tail off as my education was limited to 11th grade. At one time, I had three part time jobs. My dad helped as much as he could with babysitting and sometimes financially. I finished high school and put my self through trade school. The problem was that even though I was trying to be strong and provide for my son, I was still drinking, partying and being promiscuous. I was looking for love in all the wrong places and I didn’t know the Lord.
When I was 22, I met a man in a bar, he was in the military. We hit it off and I became pregnant a month into our relationship. We decided that we should get married. When I was 36 weeks pregnant with our son, the devastation of September 11th happened. My husband was deployed two weeks before our son was born. I grew very close with my paternal grandmother since my meeting my dad when I was 16. I stayed with her when I was close to going into labor. She sat with me on the bed and sang “How Great Thou Art”. It was her favorite song.
A month later, I received a letter in the mail that our marriage was not legal because my husband was still legally married to his first wife. I was crushed. My husband returned home from deployment a week before our sons first birthday. We filed all of the proper papers in order to have his divorce finalized. Unfortunately, our relationship was headed down the gutter as infidelity and verbal abuse reared its ugly head. We separated three times in that 8 months that he was home each time trying to reconcile. In the 8th month of being home, he received orders to deploy again to Iraq for a year. Two months after he left for deployment, his divorce was finalized. I did not feel that I had the strength to go through this on my own again so I moved in with my dad and my stepmom with the boys. Being close to my grandmother was strengthening for me. Unfortunately she was diagnosed with an aggressive for of Leukemia.
After two months of staying with family, I felt an overwhelming tug at my heart that I needed something more in my life than what I had been seeking. My dad had accepted the Lord and normally attended church at Mountain View Community Church in Ramona. However, I don’t think he attended one Sunday while I was there. One Sunday morning I decided to get up and go to this Church that all of my dads side of the family attended. As I was getting ready, my dad asked me what I was doing. I told him that I was going to church. He asked me where and I told him Mountain View Community Church. My dad was puzzled and said “but you are Jehovah’s Witness”. He then said “Wait for me, I will go with you”. I attended Church every Sunday after. After about a month of attending, I accepted Jesus as my Lord and savior. That was in December. I decided to get baptized and show my dedication to Jesus on January 28th. My dad decided to get baptized with me. My grandmother was too ill to attend but told my uncle that she was so relieved and she no longer worried about my dad and me. My grandmother passed away two days later.
My husband returned home in February and I was so excited to share with him. I thought that this would be a turning point for us. In April we were married for real this time. We moved to a navy base in El Centro shortly after the wedding. I got pregnant again. During my third pregnancy, I had a chance to confront my paternal grandfather who had molested me so many years ago. I wanted to know why and I wanted closure. He was very remorseful and explained that he was sick and needed help but rather than helping, the family swept it under the rug and never spoke of it again. Later during a conversation with the pastor from Mountain View Community church, I learned that my grandfather sought help through the church. In the end, I was able to forgive him for what he had done. He passed away shortly there after.
With our new baby on the way, I thought that things might change for the better between my husband and I. Unfortunately, we were in two totally different worlds. My husband did not believe as I did. I was not allowed to attend church and being a baby Christian, my faith began to fall away. The Infidelity and verbal abuse continued and so I decided to leave. Our baby girl was four months old. I called my Godparents whom my husband did not know and I spoke to on rare occasions. My Godparents came to my rescue. We loaded whatever I could take in their truck and mine and left everything else behind. I had no idea how I was going to start over and with three children. At times I had mentioned going back to my husband but my Godmother talked me out of it. I struggled financially and my Godparents helped me out the best they could. I had fallen away from my faith and I was falling back into my worldly ways of drinking and partying in order to cover up the pain. My Godparents made me agree to attend church with them and I did, often hung over from the night before. During that time, my oldest son now 12 accepted Jesus as his Lord and savior and was baptized. One night when I was at home and had far too many drinks, my Godfather showed up at my door. He saw me at my worst and I was so ashamed as I knew he was so disappointed in me. The next morning, I went to my Godparents house with every excuse as to why he saw my drunk the night before. The only thing my Godfather said to me was “This is not between you and I, this is between you and the Lord”. What he said to me that morning really plagued me. I knew what I was doing was wrong.
Struggling to support my children and living worldly was taking its toll on me. One night I fell to my knees and pleaded with the Lord trying to make a deal. I promised that if the Lord would get me through this, I would give up the partying and stay celibate. I’m sure he giggled at my trying to make a deal. However, I did stop partying and I stayed clear of bars or any functions that could get me into trouble. During that time, I was only working two days a week for a total of $500 a month. How I got by supporting my children and keeping a roof over our heads was Gods grace and mercy. There is no other explanation. I began attending the Christian Center determined to make my walk with the Lord right this time. I started work at the Borrego Clinic and things were finally starting to turn around.
Two and a half years into my celibacy and soberness, I met my now husband by accident. I was at a friend’s house and we were working on some sewing projects. The doorbell rang and there were two friend’s of my friend’s husbands at the door. My friend’s husband was not home at the time and so the men waited around and chit chatted until he got home. I don’t exactly remember what the conversations were about but my husband and I seemed to hit it off. Following that day, my new found friend would venture down to the desert every weekend to hang out and do things with the kids and I. We were building a great friendship. I explained to him that I was a Christian and had no intentions of getting romantically involved with anyone. My friend shared that he had accepted Jesus and been baptized when he was 12 as he used to attend church with his stepmother. He had been deeply hurt in the past as well and was not interested in getting romantically involved either. Eight months into our friendship, a ring came along. I was scared to death and I began pleading with the Lord that this was not the deal. I was not ready to be married again or be involved for that matter. I contemplated breaking it off a few times but the Lord had bigger plans for me. My friend had become my best friend. He loved my children and endured every trial that I faced right along with me. He accepted me with children and all of the struggles that came along with that. We did marry on the two year anniversary of our meeting.
My oldest son who was now in high school was a real handful. It seemed that he was following in my footsteps. I struggled with him continuously and did my best to keep him in church. I often blamed myself for his drug use since I did not set the best example when he was small. When my son was 17, he ran away from home. I was beside myself and with the authorities unable to locate him, I learned what real faith and trusting the Lord whole heartedly meant. I prayed day in and day out. I attended work every day not sure how I was even functioning. All I know is the Lord carried me through those three long months. In the third month, I received a call on my cell phone from an unknown area code. I let it go to voicemail as I was still working. My co worker kept trying to convince me to go take a break and check my phone as that may have been my son. I insisted that it wasn’t and continued working. When I finally did take a break and check my voicemail, it was my son’s voice and he left a number to call him back. I was so shaken that I couldn’t even dial the phone. My co worker had to dial for me. My son answered and all I could say was “are you alive”. He told me he was in Florida and doing ok. He was working and rented a room. From then on, it was an up and down roller coaster with my son. He had gone from Florida to Las Vegas to back home and trouble followed. In 2015, my little blessing of a grandson was born. He stole my heart from first time I heard his little cry. Things with my son continue to be all over the map but I know that the Lord has a plan bigger than I could ever imagine. I trust him whole heartedly. I often think of the Levite woman who bore Moses and set him adrift on the Nile River for the Pharaoh’s daughter to find. How great her faith and trust must have been.
My husband struggled with drinking and it was taking its toll. He totaled his car, went to jail, and we even separated for a bit. I was not going to walk away. Divorce was not an option. The difference this time is that I had faith and trust in the Lord and knew that he would get us through this as well. He sought me out when I was at my lowest points; he carried me and gave me strength when I could not function on my own at all. My husband has been sober now for a while. He is an amazing man. He is still my best friend. He attends church with me and he loves Jesus. I am truly blessed. I now understand why the Lord allowed all of these things to happen when I pleaded with him that I was not ready to marry again. The Lord had a better idea. All I had to do was trust him and have faith.