By Cheryl Johnson
“Trinidad is nice, Trinidad is a paradise.”
I was born on the island of Trinidad, known as the Jewel of the Caribbean, located seven miles off the coast of Venezuela, South America. I have cherished memories of warm tropical breeze fanning my cheeks, the graceful coconut palms, lush green majestic mountains, the distinctive smell of the ocean with its aquamarine waters and the golden sandy beaches. “Trinidad is nice, Trinidad is a paradise.” It is a beautiful land, rich in oil and natural beauty, displaying a colorful and rich heritage. It was a Spanish colony for 300 years; an English colony for 300 years.
In this tropical paradise, on a Sunday evening at 6pm, I was born. My father gave me the Arabic name “Yasmin” and my mother gave me the Christian name Cheryl, both names meaning “princess.”
God must have had a sense of humour when He created me. I am a unique blend of Chinese, East Indian, English and Spanish. When I was growing up I did not appreciate being so multicultural and I often wished I was blonde and blue-eyed, or at least pure blooded. My father was Muslim and my mother Roman Catholic. I am a true product of “East meets West.” My parents were both very strong willed and divorced when I was six years old. I grew up mainly with my mother who taught me the ways of the western world. However, I was influenced by the multicultural society all around me.
I had been brought up in a traditional Church and I believed in God. I attended church regularly, was baptized as a baby, had my First Communion and Confirmation, did good works and said my prayers. However, I wanted more. I was not fulfilled or satisfied and did not have peace in my heart. Rituals of the church were an important part of my life. I attended St. Joseph’s Convent, the first girls’ private Catholic school on the island from age 11 to 18 years. Although at that time I did not appreciate the strict discipline, a foundation of good moral values was laid. I had questions about some of the teachings and unfortunately when I asked questions, I was told that only those of the religious order like the priests or the archbishop needed to know the answers.
As I grew up, I was driven to succeed. I wanted it all—to marry well and have a great career. Money, power and position were my ideas of treasures and being prosperous.
In pursuit of that treasure I went against the advice of family and friends and invested money, time and energy to pursue my dream of living and working in Miami in the United States. A prominent Muslim businessman in Miami promised me a job and the opportunity to attain my green card. After I arrived in Miami, however, I was hit with the realization that this man wanted to make me his wife, not an employee. He had my money and was determined to use this as a pawn for me to comply with his wishes. I felt trapped. I fled in fear and checked into a local hotel. I hated being alone in a large city, so I went to stay with a girlfriend until I figured out what I was going to do next. I met another girl visiting from Trinidad who was also staying at my friend’s house. She could see my anxiety and began challenging me to seek and depend on God to find the solutions to my problems.
She asked me some hard questions about my faith. I was defensive and a bit ticked off that my spiritual identity was being questioned. My response was, “Of course I am a Christian; I go to church and have not committed any major sins.” Then I went on to list my long record of works.
Meanwhile, I had been crying out to God and seeking to know what to do in this situation. Miami was my place of captivity. I felt God was not hearing me, because I was not seeing any quick answers to my prayers. I also felt frustrated that what I was doing didn’t seem to be working; all my traditional prayers seemed like red tape. I felt I had to go through a hierarchy to get to God. I decided to visit a tarot card reader to see if she could tell me what my future held, but I still didn’t find any answers.
Then a friend invited me to a church. My heart stirred and I yearned for the peace and joy that I saw both in my friend and in others at this church. I broke down, cried and asked my friend how I could have a personal relationship with God. She led me in a prayer.
After that, I swallowed my pride and admitted that I had made a huge mistake. I called my father who was excited to hear from me, and arranged for me to return to his home in Trinidad. This was a miracle!
But the businessman who lured me to Miami also returned to Trinidad and began stalking me. This man and his bodyguards carried guns and were known for bribing high officials. He was obsessed with me and believed I was his property and that he had a right to make me submit. I feared for my life and the well-being of my family
I was living and working with my father. He became very protective, and screened my calls. My stalker had his secretary call the office and got through to me. He promised to give me back my money if I would come to his office. I went. While I was there, he received a call from an ex-girlfriend saying that she had seen me in the company of many men at a local conference center the previous day. He didn’t give me a chance to explain that I had been at a conference with my father and the other men in the company and that I was the only woman in the company. When this man heard that I had been in the company of all these other men, he flew into a violently jealous rage and attacked me. The next thing I remembered was waking up in a private hospital room.
The nurse asked me who had done this to me and whether it was the man stationed outside my room. I nodded “Yes.” I gave her my father’s telephone number. I looked in the mirror and what I saw horrified me. I screamed! I didn’t recognize my face!
It took me over three months to recuperate. I felt crushed and completely overwhelmed. I thought I would never live through the attack. In fact I expected to die. I despaired. But during this time I learned many difficult lessons, including not relying on myself but on God.
I was healed and restored. Even my father said I was “the crushed rose that blossomed again.”
Now, years later, I am beginning to understand my identity as a true princess, a daughter of the King, and I make it my mission to “boldly tell of my King’s Treasures and His Empowering Love.”My life has turned out so differently.
I am married to a wonderful man and I am not a trophy wife. I have a fulfilling career in the graphic arts/print industry and my selfish ambition has been replaced with a deep desire to do God’s will. I have also learned to appreciate my uniqueness as an intercultural woman. I have seen how God has shaped my experiences, and my brokenness, and turned it into pearls in my princess crown.
In the book Keeping a Princess Heart Nicole Johnson writes:
“Don’t give up! I know it looks as though everything is falling apart on the outside. Look with the eyes of your heart at what is happening on the inside. The King is making a new way for you, grace upon grace. What you are going through right now seems crushing, but don’t lose sight of what is coming. There is far more ahead than what meets the eye. What you see now will not even be here tomorrow, but what you can’t see just yet will last forever.”
