My name is Kelsie, and I’m from Des Moines, Iowa, born and raised.
I grew up in a single- parent home. My mom worked hard and never missed a day of work, but at night life looked very different. There was drinking, smoking, and unhealthy relationships. When I was 10 years old, my grandpa passed away, and our family changed forever.
Growing up, I experienced verbal abuse and watched someone I loved carry unhealed trauma. Looking back, I spent most of my life searching for acceptance and love in all the wrong places.
By the time I was 13, I was sexually active. At 15, I became pregnant with my oldest son. Soon after, I was introduced to cocaine and alcohol. What started as experimenting quickly became my lifestyle. I became involved indrugs, violence, fighting, and gang activity. I witnessed shootings, lost people I loved to gun violence, and eventually lost my best friend to an overdose.
I believed money, attention and the streets gave me value. I started dancing to make money and convinced myself that my worth came from what I looked like and what I could provide. I spent years in and out of jail, toxic relationships and addiction. Every time I promised myself I would change, I went right back to the same life.
When DHS became involved after a domestic violence incident, my children began paying the price for my addiction. My daughter tested positive for cocaine at removal by DHS, and instead of taking responsibility, I blamed everyone else. I went to treatment several times, but I wasn’t honest. I manipulated programs and people because I wanted my circumstances to change without changing myself.
From 2019 to 2024, my life was the same cycle over and over—using, treatment, relapse, losing my children, getting them back, and losing them again. I loved my children, but my addiction always came first.
Looking back now, I realize I didn’t just have a drug problem—I had a heart problem. I didn’t know God. I only called on Him when I wanted Him to rescue me from the consequences of my choices.
In 2024, my children were removed for the fourth time. I remember when my youngest daughter was picked up by her foster family. I didn’t cry. Within an hour, I was getting high again. That shows just how broken I had become.
Then one night in June 2025, I prayed a different prayer.
I stopped asking God to simply fix my problems. I asked Him to change me.
The next day I went to detox and then entered residential treatment. While I was there, I learned about Hope Ministries. I called every week asking for a spot because I knew I didn’t need another short-term treatment—l needed a completely different way of living.
On July 7, 2025, I walked through the doors of Hope Ministries.
For the first time, recovery wasn’t just about quitting drugs. It was about allowing God to heal every broken part of me. I started praying every day. I journaled. I asked questions. I went to therapy. I completed outpatient treatment. I began building a relationship with Jesus instead of only calling on Him when I was in trouble.
Little by little, God began changing me from the inside out.
Kelsie
For years, I thought my story would end in addiction, jail or death. Instead, God gave me a testimony. If my story teaches anything, I hope it’s this: no one is too far gone for God. If He can change my life, He can change anyone’s.
Eventually, my daughters were returned to my care. We found a church that became our home. Watching my little girls learn about Jesus has become one of the greatest blessings of my life.
But recovery wasn’t perfect.
One of the things we learn in recovery is something called secret reservations. A secret reservation is when you hold on to people, places, behaviors, or ways of thinking that leave the door cracked open for your old life. I convinced myself that because I wasn’t using drugs anymore, I didn’t need to let go of everything else. I thought I could stay connected to unhealthy relationships and old patterns as long as I stayed sober.
I was wrong.
Earlier this year, because of poor choices and dishonesty, my girls would be removed again. When I got that phone call, my first thought was, “Now I can go get high one last time.”
But then another thought came . . . What if it wasn’t just one last time? What if I never made it back?
That moment changed everything.
Instead of running back to addiction, I chose honesty. I confessed my mistakes. Hope Ministries showed me grace. DHS showed me mercy. Most importantly, God showed me that His love hadn’t changed. My girls were able to stay in my care.
One verse carried me through that season. John 13:7 says, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.”
At the time, I couldn’t understand why everything was happening. Today, I do. God wasn’t just trying to get me sober. He was making me into a new woman.
On June 4 of this year, I celebrated one year of sobriety.
That year represents far more than 365 days without drugs. It represents healing, honesty, accountability, faith and choosing Jesus every single day.
Today, I’ve completed treatment. I’ve paid off debt that once held me back. I’m enrolled in the Change Course program and I’m beginning my journey to become a paralegal because I want to help other mothers who feel hopeless like I once did. I’m rebuilding my relationship with my oldest son after years apart, and most importantly, I have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.
My life isn’t perfect. I still face challenges. But today I know I don’t have to face them alone.
For years, I thought my story would end in addiction, jail or death. Instead, God gave me a testimony.
If my story teaches anything, I hope it’s this: no one is too far gone for God. If He can change my life, He can change anyone’s.
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” —2 Corinthians 5:17
