Reader Advisory: The following testimony contains mature themes, including addiction, trafficking, assault, and severe trauma. While Laura's story is ultimately one of restoration, recovery, and God's redeeming love, reader discretion is advised.
Listen to the conversation with Laura and Monika here:
Laura's story is not just a story of survival. It's not simply a story of recovery. It's the kind of story that leaves you shaking your head, knowing that God was present in ways no human could orchestrate.
Today, Laura (last name withheld) is living on the West Coast, married, expecting her first child, and holds a master's degree in social work. But the road that brought her here was marked by trauma, addiction, homelessness, trafficking, and a near-fatal car accident that should have ended her life.
And yet, somehow, God never stopped pursuing her.
Laura's story began with a wound no child should have to bear.
"When I was about six years old," she told me, "a neighbor kid assaulted me. I never told anybody."
Instead of understanding that she had been harmed, Laura internalized the pain.
"I blamed myself. I thought there was something inherently wrong with me. Looking back, I know that's the opposite of what God wants me to think about myself, but as a child, I didn't understand."
That lie—that she was somehow broken or unworthy—followed her for years.
As a teenager, she found joy on the softball field. Playing ball gave her purpose, community, and dreams for the future. But those dreams were shattered after a series of devastating knee injuries.
Between the ages of 14 and 21, Laura underwent five knee surgeries.
"My parents were getting divorced. I was being bullied. I couldn't walk at school. There was just a lot happening."
Along the way, doctors prescribed pain medication.
"They weren't as strict back then," she recalled. "Eventually my body became dependent on it."
What began as medical treatment slowly evolved into addiction.
One of Laura's surgeries required a donor graft from a deceased person.
When doctors placed her on a donor list, she was overwhelmed by guilt.
"I remember thinking, 'I'm not living my life well enough for someone to die and give me a knee.'"
At the time, she was drinking heavily and spiraling further into addiction. Yet something inside her still longed for God.
She decided to return to church.
"I remember joking with my friend," she said. "'Wouldn't it be crazy if I gave my life back to Jesus and then got a donor call?'"
The next day, her phone rang.
A donor had become available.
"I couldn't believe it," she said. "I remember thinking, 'Oh my gosh. This is real. God is real.'"
But even miracles don't automatically heal wounded hearts.
Despite finding a church she loved, Laura continued struggling with addiction, shame, and self-destruction.
Her addiction eventually cost her everything.
She became homeless.
She lived under a bridge.
She lost sight of any future worth pursuing.
"My addiction took everything from me," she said. "I just felt like there was no hope."
People around her suggested she use her body to survive.
Soon, she found herself being trafficked.
"I didn't think there was anything better for me," she said. "I didn't think God loved me. I didn't love myself."
For years she endured abuse, exploitation, and manipulation.
At one point, she and her beloved dog were held captive by someone claiming to be a man of God.
The experience deepened her anger toward God.
"It pushed me farther away," she said.
Yet even during those darkest years, Laura now sees God's protection.
"There were moments when I felt this overwhelming sense not to do something," she reflected. "I look back and realize God was protecting me from things that could have been even worse."
One night, exhausted by the life she was living, Laura stood in front of a mirror.
Her hair was tangled. Her heart was shattered.
"I remember praying, 'God, I just wish I could start over.'"
In a moment of desperation, she grabbed scissors and cut off much of her hair.
The very next day, everything changed.
Laura was riding in a stolen vehicle fleeing police after a robbery.
The car was traveling more than 100 miles per hour when it left the freeway and began rolling.
Neither Laura nor the driver was wearing a seatbelt.
Both were ejected.
The driver died.
Laura landed on her head.
Paramedics found Laura standing in a field before collapsing.
She was rushed to the hospital.
Doctors removed the entire right side of her skull.
She coded.
Medical staff revived her.
She spent weeks in a coma.
Because no one knew who she was, she entered the hospital as a Jane Doe.
"They didn't know if I was going to live," she said.
When she finally woke up, she had to relearn nearly everything.
Walking.
Talking.
Eating.
Tying her shoes.
But instead of gratitude, she felt anger.
"I was so mad at God," she admitted. "'Why would You keep me alive?'"
Doctors later attempted to replace part of her skull but discovered an infection. The procedure failed.
Eventually she was discharged wearing a protective helmet and carrying a PICC line for medications.
Doctors gave her a simple instruction:
Stay sober so you can receive the surgery you need.
Laura had other plans.
"I had no intention of staying sober," she said. "I had no intention of living."
She returned to the streets.
Returned to addiction.
Returned to being trafficked.
All while living with half her skull missing.
Looking back, she shakes her head.
"It's sad to think that's all I believed I deserved."
Nearly a year passed.
Then one day, while wandering through a park, Laura encountered someone she hadn't expected.
Her father's former girlfriend.
A medical case manager.
The exact person she needed.
"She just looked at me and said, 'Come stay with me. I'll help you find treatment.'"
Laura was finally broken enough to say yes.
"It was the right person at the right moment," she said. "God knew exactly who to put in my life."
She entered rehab.
Slowly, hope began returning.
Through counselors, meetings, mentors, and fellow recovering addicts, she started hearing a message she had never fully believed before:
Her life still mattered.
Months into recovery, Laura prepared to schedule surgery to replace the missing section of her skull.
Instead, she received devastating news.
Her doctor refused.
"He told me, 'We don't think you'll make it. We think you'll relapse. You should probably live with a helmet for the rest of your life.'"
At first, she understood his concerns.
But something inside her had changed.
For the first time, she believed there might be another future.
"I had all these amazing people around me in recovery who believed in me," she said. "And I started believing in myself."
She advocated for herself.
Others advocated for her.
Eventually she found a doctor willing to take the risk.
The surgery was successful.
Today, Laura's life bears little resemblance to the one she once lived.
She earned a bachelor's degree in social work.
Then she completed a master's degree.
She is married.
She is expecting her first child.
And perhaps most importantly, she has rediscovered the God she thought had abandoned her.
"God never stopped giving me opportunities to choose Him," she said. "Even when I wasn't ready."
Looking back, she now sees God's fingerprints everywhere:
In the donor call that came the day after she recommitted her life to Christ.
In the moments she was protected from even greater harm.
In the dog who stayed faithfully by her side through every season.
In the accident that should have killed her.
In the woman who found her wandering through a park.
In the recovery community that taught her how to hope again.
When asked what she would say to parents watching a child struggle with addiction, Laura didn't hesitate.
"My mom never gave up on me," she said. "But she also had boundaries."
There were times when her mother had to make heartbreaking decisions, including asking Laura to leave home.
"It broke her heart," Laura said. "But she still loved me."
Her advice to families is simple:
"Keep loving them. Even if that means loving them with boundaries."
And trust that God is still working, even when the outcome feels uncertain.
"Recovery is possible," she said. "There is hope."
The enemy may take people places they never intended to go and keep them there longer than they ever wanted to stay.
But God is still greater.
A woman living on the streets with half her skull missing should not be alive.
Yet here she stands.
Educated.
Married.
Expecting a child.
Helping others heal.
Most importantly, she knows today what she couldn't see then:
God never abandoned her.
Not under the bridge.
Not in the trafficking.
Not in the addiction.
Not in the despair.
Through every chapter, grace kept pursuing her.
And grace refused to let go.