Faithbook: Our Story, Our Song

I was probably three years old the first time I can remember getting into real mischief. I was sitting in a baby carriage, rocking it on purpose until it tipped right over. Looking back, that says a lot about me—I liked to test things, to see what would happen, to explore. I was the youngest of five children. My mother had what she called “two batches” of children. Three came early, and much later, Angel and I were born. By the time we were young, the older brothers and sister had already moved out into careers and marriages. Still, they stayed connected. We would visit them, and sometimes they would come stay with us. My brother Buzzy lived for years in Pleasant Valley, raising horses and chickens, and his family became part of my childhood landscape. Home life was shaped by my parents. Dad worked for Bower Memorials, selling gravestones. He always had a big briefcase full of papers in the car. If you rode with him, your feet rested on it. He was a kind man, and he passed on one main ...

Good morning, Stetson Memorial Church family. If you had told me just a few months ago that I'd be standing here, actively participating in church, perhaps even joining in church karaoke, I might not have believed you! For years, I would have found every excuse not to attend. I always felt a quiet tugging at my heart, a sense that there was something more, but I constantly ignored it. Sometimes it was because I didn't feel like I fit in, or I was simply embarrassed to admit how I truly felt. But today, with a humble heart, I share that I am genuinely embracing this journey. After some significant challenges in my life, God, in His grace, led me to find peace where I needed it most. I now feel a deep peace I longed for, the profound love of forgiveness I desperately needed, and for that, my heart is beyond thankful. I remember the profound love and bond I felt when I became a mother – a love unlike any other. I was raised in a Christian home, attending church every Sunday, Chris...

A new day, a new beginning, a new blessing, a new hope. That is what my testimony will be—sharing what my life was like, what happened before God’s intervention, and how my life is today.   Growing Up I was born and raised in a city in Massachusetts, in a French neighborhood and schooling. Everything looked good on the outside, but behind closed doors it was another world. At home, my father was very strict. At the dinner table, we weren’t allowed to laugh or even speak. Punishments could be harsh. I remember being hit with a Navy belt or forced to kneel in a closet for an hour. My two older siblings left home as soon as they could, leaving me and my younger sister behind. By six years old, I had my first drink. By twelve, I was drinking and using drugs. By fourteen, I was hanging out with a gang. Anything to numb the pain. Much of my childhood is missing from my memory bank. The trauma was too painful, so I blocked it out. Sometimes other family members would bring something up, a...

My name is Sharon Batchelder, and I was born in Danforth, Maine. When I look back over my life, I see pain and hardship, but I also see the faithfulness of God. My story is not always easy to tell, but it is a testimony of how God has carried me, healed me, and given me hope. Childhood and Early Struggles When I was only eight months old, my stepfather threw me down a flight of stairs. That fall left me with lasting damage. My whole right side was affected, almost as if I had a stroke. It took me sixteen years just to learn how to tie my own shoes. My stepfather was an alcoholic. He drank constantly, and with the drinking came anger, cruelty, and abuse. My mother had twelve children, though one died at birth. That left eleven of us growing up together, and life was not easy. My mother was afraid of my stepfather. I don’t know why she married him, but she did, and the fear never left her. He was a hard, cruel man. He abused us, and worse, he even harmed my older sister in ways that were...