The Story Of My Healing

The Hard Asks

Has God ever asked you to do something that you truly did not want to do? For me, this was one of those asks. I began this in October of last year (2020). Today is February 3rd, 2021. I’ve prayed and prayed over this. I’ve asked God to give me a sign or anything to let me know for sure this is what He wants me to do. He’s given me multiple, but again I would ask, are You sure? This reminded me of Gideon (Judges 6-8). I knew it’s what God was asking of me. I just wanted that guarantee, which is what Gideon was seeking.

God has been most patient with me. But today, while reading Daniel 5, He let me know that it is time to do as He asks. It is time I humble myself, read the writing on the wall, and honor the God who holds, in His hand, my life and all my ways.

Then to drive the message home, to make double sure I understood, He had me flip the page. I didn’t have to turn the page, Dan. 5 ended on page 964, but God wanted me to read what was on page 966; I want to share what I read with you.

Bold Service

No matter what painful experiences we undergo, we must continue to pursue servanthood in a manner reflecting the boldness of Christ. To bear witness against injustice, inhumanity, and other aspects of our brokenness in a darkened world, we need to develop this quality of Christlike boldness in our thoughts and actions.

Boldness has a refreshingly honest and direct simplicity to it. Neither aggressive nor obnoxious, bold servants simply, quietly, and effectively work to alleviate suffering in the most forthright method available. There are no hidden meanings behind their words. There are no half-measures taken either. Boldness is an all-or-nothing phenomenon, for bold servants have grown in their relationship with God enough to take risks in spite of the fear of involvement they feel. Acknowledging the specific ways the Lord wants them to serve, bold disciples of Christ opt for decisive rather than hesitant thoughts and for daring rather than timid actions.

Boldness erases the limits we allow fear to place on our ability to serve. With boldness, we not only see but act from the belief that everyone we meet is our brother and sister in the family of God, deserving of respect, of dignity, of compassion, of giving. With boldness, we place the welfare of others before our own. With boldness, the unwanted and unloved become wanted and loved by us. With boldness, we refuse to hesitate for fear that we may be opposed, we may suffer, we may be rejected, we may offend, we may be in danger.

Having surrendered ourselves to God, we dare to become Christ’s “slave to all” by letting God use us boldly in Christian service.

Author: Judith Lechman

And with that, my answer to the “big ask” is, yes Lord, I will do as you’ve asked.

Our Children

Jesus Loves Them

Jesus had a lot to say about His little children. He made it very clear we are not to do them any harm. He said there is a special punishment for those who do. I think He is pretty serious about it. He speaks of this special punishment three different times in the New Testament. (Matt. 18:6 & 10; Luke 17:2)

There are two ways to look at these verses. Either Jesus was talking about any child or His believers, which He calls His children. Either way, Jesus made it clear we are not to cause them to stumble. Any child could be caused to stumble because of abuse, and a child of God can be caused to stumble because of abuse.

Do no harm. Is that even possible? Do any of us reach adulthood and leave behind a childhood that was absent of harm? I suppose some lucky few have skated through childhood unscathed by the wickedness of this world. But I speculate it’s a tiny percentage that does.

Even if you are one of the rare few that had a harmless childhood, the odds are that you’ve suffered some pain or abuse as an adult. Either way, if we don’t face our demons, our past can and will negatively affect our lives if we don’t find healing.

Variances Of Harm

There have been a couple of times when someone has shared with me their personal story of sorrow and suffering, and I’ve caught myself thinking, ‘that’s it? You don’t even know sorrow.’ But Jesus has taught me over the past 20 years; I don’t know sorrow.

Yes, there are variances of harm. There are even variances in the same type of harm. Some people walk this world carrying some heavy, burdensome baggage that an adult handed them as a small child to tote through the rest of their lives. Or maybe, some other child, who was being harmed in their own home or elsewhere, handed it to them. Either way, abuse, left unchecked, leads to the abuse of others.

I am in no way and by no means suggesting that every abused child grows up to be an abusive person in the sense that a molested child will become a molester or a beaten child will beat their own children, etc. Abuse doesn’t always morph into the same shape every time.

Many Forms Of Abuse

I’m not going into the details of the actual abuse. I will find no peace by calling out the names of my abusers. However, there is peace to be found in the telling. There is peace in fighting off your demons. Lifting the rock, they hide under and shining the light of truth on their dark lies will make them scatter like the creepy vile bugs they are. But the truth is not always so easy to come by, especially when we face our inner reality.

I have chosen not to share details of the abuse with you, not out of shame, but because this is not the place to share such things. We shouldn’t ever believe that laying out all the dirty bits to anybody that will listen is beneficial to our healing. Our stories should be shared at the right time, in the right place, and with the right people. Those we know we can trust. Believe it or not, we shouldn’t trust everyone just because they say they’re a Christian. Even Christians do bad things.

Another reason I’m not going to linger on the abuse is because abuse comes in so many forms. Our stories may be similar, but that doesn’t mean we were affected the same or that we dealt with it the same. It could be that our stories are polar, but the abuse, in whatever form it was in, affected us the same. The point is whatever terrible thing you have experienced, whether as a child or an adult, if you’re reading this, I want you to know you can find healing and peace in the same way I have.

My Story

Everyone Has One

My story will be just a little of what happened to me and a lot of what happened afterward.

By the time I was twelve, nine different people had touched me inappropriately. None of which were blood relatives. All of them were a one-time incident except for the last. It extended over two years, from age 10-12, and ultimately ended with rape. That’s it, the sum of my childhood trauma.

Two of the times were by other children, one about the same age as me and one a teenager whose parents were friends of my parents. Two of the times were by brothers of my friends, who they were also molesting. One was a stepfather of a friend, who he was molesting as well. Two were friends of my older sibling. Two married into my family. All of this happened before 7th grade.

Looking back on many of my friends after elementary school, I now realize that I was probably not the only one living with secrets like these, but by junior high, we had learned not to talk to each other about it.

I told an adult two of the times. Neither time had pleasant outcomes, so I didn’t tell anymore. Well, not until I was an adult myself.

And Then, What?

Aftermath

After the rape, the abuse ended. Just like that, it was over. At the time, I figured it was because everything I had to offer was taken, and I was of no use anymore. I learned years later the true reason. In part, it was what I had imagined; I no longer had anything left to take. But the sick truth is the abuser was finished with me and had moved on to find untarnished prey in a 5-year-old child.

The ending wasn’t something I was sad to see; I couldn’t have been more glad for it to be over. Years later, however, when I learned the truth of how the ending of a nightmare for me meant the beginning of one for someone else I loved very much and never even imagined that it was happening to, put guilt so heavily on my shoulders it was almost too much, especially added to the guilt I felt over what happened to me. But for the eight years that I was ignorant of what was happening to this person, I thanked God for it being over. I stuffed it way down deep and moved on. Unfortunately, my compass was broken, and I moved in all the wrong directions. For years of my life, I sank deeper and deeper.

At age 12, I was already drinking liquor. Some may ask where a 12-year-old could get alcohol—lots of ways. For me, it came by way of an older sibling. In my early teen years, my friends would steal it from their parents. At age 16, my best friend and cousin, who was 21—a lot of what we would do when we were together involved drinking.

Your Voice Is Silenced

After the rape, I so desperately wanted to tell someone, but it wasn’t a story I could tell, not even to my sisters or cousins. So, at the wise old age of thirteen, I chose to have sex so I could feel able to tell my cousin that I wasn’t a virgin anymore. But to have the courage to execute my plan, I had to drink the courage. Until I married the man I am married to now, I was never sober the first time I was with anyone sexually. To feel like I could talk to someone about what happened to me, I felt the need to create a woven truth with the threads of lies.

At age fifteen, I was pregnant. I chose to abort my child out of pure fear, fear of what this child would have to endure and suffer by having a mom who was so mentally sick; fear of being fifteen and alone to raise this child, the dad wanted no part of it—so many worries.

After the abortion, I got worse, so much worse. I was only in tenth grade, and I was getting blackout drunk regularly. I had boyfriends, but never just one, and my boyfriends never had just one girlfriend. They mistreated me, and I mistreated them.

My out-of-control behavior carried on through the rest of high school and beyond. When I was eighteen, my cousin/best friend died driving while intoxicated. Six months after her death, I totaled my car driving drunk. By the grace of God, my passenger nor I received injuries, not even a scratch. The car flipped at least three times and landed dead center of the roof on top of a downed tree. One week later, I got arrested for public intoxication.

None of this deterred my self-sabotaging behavior. I continued to abuse myself and others, whether intentional or not. After I wrecked my car, I lost my job because I had no transportation. Which meant I could no longer afford to live on my own. I flopped around from friend to friend for a while until I wore out my welcome then I moved back in with my parents. I was there about six months when I met someone who had a place to live and a car. Unmarried to him, I moved in, but this made some people in my life unhappy, so I married him. I got a job, and as soon as I had a car of my own and enough money to leave, I left. I married him on my twentieth birthday and divorced before my twenty-first. Before I turned 21, it came to light what my abuser had been doing the last several years, and I spoke my truth for the first time.

I lived alone, except for a couple of bizarre housemates, for two years when I met someone at a bar. He was as wild, out of control, full of anger, and as damaged as I was. Two years into our tumultuous relationship, I got pregnant.

The Healing Begins

But First A Little Back Story

There was a time, at an earlier age, that I intended to end my life. On a night in, whatever month Brickfest falls on, I found myself, at age 14, in my cousin’s apartment by myself, so I decided to drink, ALONE. There is a reason for the saying “never drink alone,” and after this particular evening, I never did again. I didn’t merely drink a little; I drank a lot, and the more I drank, the sadder I became, and the more miserable I became, the less I wanted to live. So in a drunken stupor and the depths of despair, I took bottles of pills from her cabinet, poured them into neat little piles, and began swallowing them by the handful. I tripped over something and made a loud noise. Her housemate, who I had no idea was in the apartment, was asleep upstairs; the noise woke her. She didn’t know I was there either and came to see what the racket was. She found me on the floor with piles of pills still on the table. Of course, she began to panic. She asked how many I had taken, but I couldn’t say. She picked up the phone to call 911 when she saw one of the empty bottles on the floor. She put the phone down and started picking up all the bottles. They were all vitamins! I tried to end it all, WITH VITAMINS!

I find that story a tad humorous now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see the tragedy in it also. I’m sharing it with you because nine years had passed, and I had gotten no better. I was now 24, unmarried, living with a man, and all we are doing together was drinking. When I was drunk, I could laugh, and laughing felt good, but inside I was dying, and I did not want to live anymore.

I had been calling on God to help me for so long; I had given up hope that He even existed. I felt if there wasn’t a God, then all of this is pointless, useless, hopeless, unbearable, unliveable. I wanted to die, and I was going to make it happen. I just hadn’t figured out how. But while plotting my own death, I discovered I was pregnant.

There was never a second that abortion went through my mind. I knew from the first second I saw the positive sign on the pregnancy test that I would have a baby. With or without anyone’s blessing because I knew it was a gift from God, who I thought I no longer believed existed. Now there was no way I would take my own life. This baby, this gift from God, literally saved my life.

Baby Steps

One morning when my son was about 6 months old, I woke up with a terrible hangover and extremely late for a significant event. I jumped out of bed and pulled myself together as I rushed out the door. I made the event, but I’m sure people knew the reason for my tardiness. On that day, I realized if I continued on the path I was on, I would damage my child just as I had been damaged, maybe even more. I resolved to make some changes.

I had been giving much thought to God, so when a friend asked if there was anything she could do for me, instead of saying, “no, I’m fine,” I said, “yes, I would like a Bible.” She gifted me a Bible on November 2, 1992, and it was the second step in saving my life. I still have that Bible, it is well worn, tattered, marked up, and a little torn, but I love it and use it almost daily.

It Doesn’t Just Go Away

It took me almost a year to read the Bible, cover to cover. After completing it, I found a church to attend, and I loved it and all the people in it. I was teaching Sunday School lessons to the 2 & 3-year-old age group. I rarely, if ever, thought of anything from my past. If it crept into my mind, I shut it out, telling myself I was over that.

By appearances, I was over it. I went to barber school, opened a salon, and married my son’s dad. Ten years had passed. I had made real friends, and my life felt OK. But the truth was I was struggling; my marriage was awful. The church I loved had made some changes, so I was hopping from church to church, not finding where I belonged. My church attendance was sketchy at best. And I did still drink on occasions when coping became too hard. Then my dad died.

Triggers

I learned about triggers later, when I finally got counseling, but at the time, I couldn’t figure out why my dad’s death hit me so profoundly. Drinking became a problem for me again. Self-sabotaging habits came back to life. After a night of drinking, I awoke with zero memory of the night before and knew I was in serious shape. I needed help. The next Sunday, I went to church. The third step in saving my life.

Church itself did not save my life but two people who, on this particular day, played a significant role in the journey to my healing. Two women who didn’t belong to this specific church came to tell the stories of their abortions. I knew they were there for me. God did this because I asked for help and didn’t know where to find it; He led me there. They said they would return on Tuesday night to talk again with the church’s women’s ministry. I went.

After the group dispersed, I followed the woman outside and spoke to her. And so began my journey to healing. I met with them in one of their homes once a week for many weeks. These women listened to me, understood me, related to me, cried with me and most importantly prayed with me. I will never forget them and will be forever grateful for their sacrifice.

In working through the guilt, shame, and damage the abortion caused, I realized I needed to find healing from the sex abuse. I honestly can not remember how I connected with Teen Challenge, but I did nonetheless and went through a group program they offered. Afterward, I got certified as a Teen Challenge counselor and volunteered at a local non-profit Crisis Pregnancy Center and took other sex abuse survivors through the program. Also, I spoke at churches, fundraisers, and the capital state-building.

I felt good about myself, I believe, for the first time in my life, but my marriage was still in shambles. So, I sought counsel for that purpose; marriage counseling doesn’t work when you do it alone. In our case, it wouldn’t have made a difference, for we shouldn’t have married in the first place. After twenty years together, we finally parted ways.

What God Taught Me Through The Pain

To Hear His Voice

Through my journey, I would often pray but then seek counsel from people in my life. What I thought God was saying to me, most times, did not match up with their advice. It seemed logical that they would better grasp what God would want since I seemed to always struggle with “living the Christian life.” I blame no one but myself for my decisions, but because of my lack of faith that He could genuinely hear me or that He genuinely cared, I took the advice of some very well-meaning but very wrong people.

As time passed and I continued to read my Bible, pray, and wait on Him, whether I was in church or not, I learned to differentiate His voice from the voice of others. If you seek Him, He will show Himself and make Himself be known. (Jer. 29.12-14; Matt. 7:7; Deut. 4:29; 1 Chron. 22:19; 28:9; Isaiah 45:19; Jer. 24:7; Amos 5:4) He taught me that I am but one person in a sea of people, but He still hears me, knows me, and all my life circumstances. What He says to me may not line up with other’s preconceived ideas of who He is or how He thinks or works. When I seek counsel from my Savior, and He gives me a clear answer, I have learned to seek no more counsel.

Learning to hear and trust God when He speaks to me was a lesson I had to learn the hard way. It’s what, I feel, they weren’t preaching in church. Maybe they were, but I wasn’t grasping it yet. Perhaps, this is why I felt the need to pull away from attending organized religion, to block out all outside interference so that the only voice I could hear was His. I needed to learn to seek Him with all my heart and all my soul. Also, I needed to know that He searches every heart and understands the intent of every thought—even mine.

Truths About Myself

Having the courage to look at yourself and your own heart instead of exclusively focusing on what others have done to you and how you might need to guard against them takes hard work.

Life is 10% of what happens to you and 90% of how you react to it. My all-time favorite pastor said that in one of his sermons. I thought it was great and wrote it in the back of my Bible. It’s another lesson I’ve had to learn the hard way. I spent so much time and energy reacting to what had happened. But all my reactions were based on lies from the enemy of my soul. I reacted in anger, self-pity, hatred (of others & myself), shame, fear, disbelief, and despair. But, had I fully grasped God and His magnificent love for me, would I have reacted any differently? The answer is yes.

One truth about myself that I needed to come to terms with, 90% of what was wrong in my life, was my reaction to 10% of what happened to me. It was my choice. It was me who rejected the truths of my Savior but listened to the lies of my enemy. It was me who hurt myself and others. Yes, what happened was horrible; yes, it scarred and damaged me, but had I listened to my Savior’s voice, my Healer, my Redeemer; my healing would have come much quicker.

I used to believe that all abused people react the same. That their lives reflect their damaged hearts, and for the most part, I have been correct. I do not mean they all made the same choices or mistakes I made, but that I could tell there is a certain sadness about them, a struggle within, something that’s robbing them of the abundant life that Jesus promises every believer.

The odds of surviving childhood abuse without any long-term adverse effects are slim. With counseling and positive reinforcements, odds become greater, but a child with a real grasp on Jesus, His love and forgiveness, can and will recover without life-altering long-term damage. I used to believe this wasn’t possible until I watched it happen with my own two eyes.

The Kingdom of God Belongs To Such As These

I want to share a little about how one child’s faith impacted me more than anything God has shown me in the last ten years and how it changed what I believe in such a way it’s hard to explain. I’ve known her since she was a child (she is a grown woman now); I recently reached out to ask for her permission to share this tiny portion of her story with you.

She was nothing but the picture-perfect example of a healthy young girl. She was involved and active in many things. There was nothing about her, in any way, that signaled someone was abusing her. After she graduated high school, she came by for haircuts, so I regularly talked with her. Everything about her seemed normal and right. She eventually went to college, so I didn’t see her very much and then, not at all.

I can’t recall how much time had passed since I last saw her when I received a call. The caller was delivering the most horrifying news. This sweet, outgoing, picture-perfect example of a healthy, productive child had been walking through fire without the knowledge of anyone in her life. I suspected the perpetrator and even spoke to my husband about it but brushed it off as; ‘I was reading more into something than I should have been.’ But as far as she was concerned, there were no signals.

I’ve been keeping up with her through Facebook posts, some years have passed, and she appears to be right as rain. I’m not suggesting that this didn’t hurt or cause her pain; there is no way it couldn’t have. Something caused her to reach out to someone, to use her voice to break the silence.

I should not even guess at what she’s been through or how it affected her, but what I do know, what I saw, was a child that never doubted her Savior. She never lost faith. She became more vocal about Jesus and what He’s done for her. Her Facebook posts humbled me to the point of feeling shame because of my weak faith compared to hers. Plus, I have lived two lifetimes to her one. Shouldn’t I have learned more and have a stronger faith than a child? Healing takes time, sometimes years, sometimes a lifetime. She may very well find herself at a crossroads someday, but if she continues to walk in the faith she has exhibited so far, she will choose the right road. Currently, the road she picked has led her to another country, where she is doing mission work, caring for children, and showing them how much Jesus loves them.

If you recall, (from way up at the beginning) I’m reading the book of Daniel. As I was reading chapter 5, God brought this child and her story to my mind. I finally understood the type of faith it takes to be thrown in a furnace and emerge without even a singed hair. I finally grasped the type of unwavering trust it requires to be thrown in a den of lions and ascend with not even a scratch. When I read Luke 18:17, I finally understand. It takes faith like a little child, faith like Daniel.

Daniel is one of the few well-known Bible characters about whom nothing negative is ever written. Daniel’s faith never wavered, no matter the trials life threw at him. It’s a scarce kind of faith. I feel honored that God has allowed me to know her and witness her faith in action.

Lies and Truth

In many ways, if left in the dark, abuse can damage families, churches, schools, friendships, and marriages, to name a few, for generations to come. These are the obvious and most immediate damages caused by abuse. But there are deeper wounds; they aren’t as easy to see. Some are so deep only God can see them, and only God can heal them.

Most of us would agree that sexual abuse or any abuse of a child is bad. Sexual abuse is a felony in all fifty states. When we hear of it occurring in a child’s life that we know, we are shocked and offended. We call it wrong and evil. This is true and right, but if we stop there, we miss the bigger picture. We miss the source of the abuse.

One of the most damaging results of sexual abuse is how it deceives and confuses victims and those who are perpetrators or silent witnesses. It stops the ability to discern good from evil. It blurs the mind, so that truth and lies get all mixed up.

To be sane means to live in accord with reality, with the truth. Good and evil are both real and genuine. Many of us live out of only one or the other.

God is truth. He has called us for it, and we are to seek His truth with all our hearts and souls. We all have been, intentionally or not, taught things that were woven with the threads of lies. We live our lives based on those lies until God uses some means to expose them and teach us His truth instead.

Scripture also tells us that God is light. The outcome of His light in our lives is goodness, righteousness, and truth (Eph. 5:-9). Anything- no matter where we find it- that does not bear such fruit, is not of God. Even more important, lies, deceit, and evil do not come to us just from people who “couldn’t help it” or “don’t know better” or “didn’t mean it” or “were a little drunk” or anything else we might choose to call it. Jesus tells us that lies, deceit, and evil come to us from the enemy of our souls, the father of lies. Jesus says this about the deceiver: “He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies” (John 8:44).

Diane Mandt Landberg, PH.D/ On the Threshold of Hope

To reverse the damages of abuse is to battle with the forces of hell. It’s a hard battle. We are too small to fight such a battle alone. It can’t be won without the exchange of lies for truth. God is light, and truth is at the core of who He is. Anything that is not true is not of God. The battle for truth cannot be won without Him. So when we pretend, minimize, and deny truth, we are not in the light.

The Deeper Wounds

Abuse damages our bodies, our emotions, our thinking, our relationships, (not just the romantic ones) and our spirits. To be abused is to be touched by evil. Like good, evil has impact. It affects each of its victims differently, some more profoundly than others. There are a number of factors that contribute to the effect of sexual abuse. No two people are alike.

No matter how deep the wounds run, there is hope for healing. It’s a process; growth and learning are lifetime things. There is hope; all is not lost. A life with joy, happiness, filled with healthy relationships, feelings of purpose, and usefulness can be yours because there is a Redeemer. I know this because my life has been redeemed.

Out Of The Fire

You can never make anything in your life work that God did not intend to be there in the first place. You can spend ten, twenty, thirty years or a lifetime trying to make a lie become the truth, and it never will. I spent the last ten years of my marriage working on healing from the aftermath of abuse. But I was living in an abusive relationship and God did not want me to stay.

It was so painful at times I didn’t think I would be able to see it through. There were times I thought the healing was complete, but life’s circumstances and my reaction to them told me it wasn’t. Many times I felt as if there was no evidence of change in my life at all.

The last three years of my marriage, every time I prayed about it, the only response I would hear was ‘just leave,’ but I could not believe I was hearing God correctly. I went through marriage counseling and two different Christian-based marriage classes alone. I went to church, read the Bible, and prayed for guidance and strength, and I prayed for his soul because he wasn’t a believer. The majority of our biggest battles were over my faith and my church attendance. I sought out pastors’ advice; they could not advise me to leave my husband because they believed it goes against God’s word.

The abusiveness of our relationship went both ways. I fought back, and sometimes I started the fight, this was mostly in the beginning stages of our relationship, but the verbal and mental abuse never stopped. God did not want me to live like that; He never did from the beginning. I wanted the truth to be a lie. I had a picture in my head of what a right and perfect family should be, and I didn’t want to believe God was telling me different. So basically, by not listening to God when He told me not to marry him, I told God He was wrong, and I spent the next twenty years trying to prove it.

If I had trusted Him when He was telling me that I could and would be able to raise a child on my own, that He would take care of us, what pain could I have saved everyone involved? Especially my son. I will never know, but I do know if God wants you somewhere, He will get you there, no matter how long you fight Him.

Even though my son didn’t go through everything I went through as a child, I know that he suffered some damage because of my lack of faith. That I didn’t heal the child in me before I hurt the one that came from me is the biggest regret of my life. The only reason that he didn’t suffer more is because of my unceasing prayers for him. By the grace of God, he has grown into a good, responsible man, contributes to society, has a kind, loving, generous heart, and has had none of the problems I put myself through. Five months before my son graduated high school, things happened that made it clear; I could no longer ignore God. Two weeks before my son left for boot camp, I finally left too.

I’ve since heard, my ex-husband is now a Christian. I pray it’s true. Sometimes, God’s answer to prayer doesn’t look like we think it should. If I had left three years earlier, would the outcome be the same? This is another thing I can never know. But what I know is this; I can never know everything God knows about a person, their past, their present, or their future, even mine. I can never presume myself knowledgeable enough to tell anyone what God says is right for their life, even my own. My job as a Christian is to lead people to Him and then get out of His way so He can do the work that needs to be done to get them where He wants them to be. My advice to anyone seeking God’s answer to prayer is to read your Bible and listen. He will make Himself known to you. “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they will follow my voice.” Matt. 10:27

And Into The Light

God truly works in mysterious ways. Where I am today, in part, is because of a client, a dog, and an old friend. I know this sounds crazy. But it’s true. Because these three things happened at the right time in both of our lives, I am now married to the man I believe God always intended for me. We couldn’t find each other earlier because we hadn’t learned the lessons we were supposed to know.

He had gone through fire himself, not the same as mine, but life had brought him to the place where he was made to face truths for himself. God brought him to a place where he found and learned what he needed to know. I can not tell his story for him. Maybe someday he will want to tell it himself, here on this blog.

When it became clear that we were starting a relationship beyond friendship, I told him my story. Not like I’m telling you here. I told him all the bits and pieces, all the terrible things about myself that I’d never told anyone before. When I finished with the telling, I asked if he still wanted to be with me; he told me he loved me even more.

Since I was a child, I’ve known God exists. I have believed that His Son and His work on the cross saved me. On the darkest of my days and despite my doubt, He never left me or let me go. But until my now-husband said those words to me, I had never FELT the depth of God’s love for me.

God took the chaos of what I had made of my life and not only brought me out of it but blessed me with the love of my life. You should never feel that you’ve made a mess so big that even God can’t clean it up. He can and will. Pray, have faith, and listen to His voice.

My Healing Is Complete

My healing did not come through my husband. It came because I did the hard work. I faced my demons, and they fled. A lie cannot remain in the light of truth. Satan has no hold over what God has claimed. The healing is what made me realize the truth about myself and others. It is what made me feel worthy of a life of happiness and love.

Our eleven years together have not been absent of sorrow or pain. We’ve been through some years of personal family drama; four deaths in fifteen months – his brother, my sister; very much unexpected – my best friend, his best friend; my friend died of cancer, his friend died of a self-inflicted gun wound. And we weren’t sure if we were going to lose another best friend who was shot three times (the head, neck, and chest). The fact she lived was nothing but miraculous. I know she’s going through healing now; I pray for her. We’ve discussed her sharing her story on this blog. If and when she is ready, she will be free to do so.

Now we have been through a pandemic, and my business was closed for two months by the government. Through all of this, I did not “drink to cope.” I didn’t lose hope or faith; I didn’t despair. I prayed, read my Bible, talked to Jesus, blocked out all the noisy chaos, and believed what He told me. I used the time as a reprieve. I welcomed the time to be still and know that He is God. I used the time to work through the grief and pain from the past four years. I’ve learned many valuable lessons through the pain and the healing process. I’ve changed lies for truth. I’ve learned forgiveness for others and myself.

Forgiveness

To forgive someone does not mean that what happened to you is any less significant. It does not lessen the impact it left on your heart, soul, mind, spirit, or body. It does not dissolve the guilty party from any consequences of their actions. To grant someone forgiveness does not mean we have to actively have them in our lives. For me, forgiveness meant I first had to realize the depth and gravity of what Jesus did on the cross for me. Not for the world. For me. If I were the only person ever to live and die believing in Jesus, He would have still hung on the cross. If only just for me.

If I’m going to find myself, who is such a sinner, worthy of forgiveness from God, I could not rightly believe my abusers are unworthy of the same mercy. That was hard to come to terms with, that a child molester could be in heaven. It is not my place (I am not God) to judge. Neither is it my place to absolve them of their guilt (I am not God). Like me, they will stand before God, forgiven or unforgiven, that is on them. God knows what they did. They, too, will face the truth, whether they do it willingly in this life or, not voluntarily, in the next. I have to leave God’s business to Him and rest in His grace, which is sufficient for me.

But He said to Me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

There are forgiveness and healing for the abuser in the same way it is for the abused. Many think a sexual predator can’t heal. But through God, the method is made possible just as it is for the rest of us sinners. Unfortunately, many never feel the need to seek forgiveness or healing because their sins are kept secret by the very people they abuse. Even if found out and they receive punishment from men, they still must face God. It’s inevitable.

God’s Instructions

People have called me strong, bold, courageous. I am the antithesis of those things. Only through the power of my Savior do I find strength, boldness, or courage. I didn’t choose to tell my story. God chose it for me, but I have willingly done as he asked because many survivors can see and understand more about the experience of sexual abuse and its aftereffects when they hear about it in someone else’s life. When it’s our own experience, we’re often too quick to brush it off as “no big deal.”

Telling my story could have been an exercise in futility if I had stopped there. I had to dig deep and deal with hard things. It was not a quick, easy, pain-free journey. The healing process was hard and long.

I do not have all the answers, but I can lead you to the One that does. I can not take away your pain, but I can lead you into the arms of The One that loves you THE MOST. I have no power to exchange Satan’s lies for truth, but I can tell you about Him, who in His very essence is truth.

Maybe you’re reading this, and you’re tired of the cycle of bad choices. Perhaps you’ve believed what happened to you hasn’t affected your life, but you realize you’ve been telling yourself lies and now desire change when being truly honest with yourself. Whatever the circumstance of your life, if you’re longing for a different life, then I advise you to pray, read your Bible, ask God what He wants you to do, and He will guide you in the right direction. He will bring the circumstances that need to happen for your healing to take place. Ask, then listen, then follow. He will not lead you astray.

It could be that you’re reading this, and you’ve recently found out someone you love is being abused or has been abused, very possibly, by someone else you love. I pray for you. Abuse doesn’t only affect the abused or the abuser; it affects the lives of all involved, even the innocent bystanders. There is healing for you too. You are not alone. Jesus sees you, He hears you, He wants to heal you.

Some Final Thoughts

I never dreamed writing about this would be such a big deal, but I kept getting blocked, upset, emotional, and frustrated with myself. I put it down, put it off, and a few times almost abandoned it. But I made myself finish (it took 5 months) because, I believe, God wants Christians to pay attention to what is happening to our children. He wants us to wake up and fight back against this evil attack on our bodies, minds, spirits, and souls. It is robbing us of the abundant life God promises His children. We must start speaking the truth. We can’t be silent anymore. We need to stop looking away. But instead turn, face our demons with the Light of the World; His name is Jesus. He brings life to dead places, forgives sins, and heals the broken and wounded. Sometimes speaking truth may cost us but we can not let that stop us. Whatever the cost, I will find it worth it if speaking my truth helps someone else who needs to hear it.

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it more abundantly.

Jesus Christ (John 10:10)

Thank you for reading the story of my healing. I did not do it for myself but you. If you pray about who and where to find an ear, and God leads you to reach out to me, please feel free to comment or send an email. We can communicate in private if you are uncomfortable speaking publicly in the comments. But where ever He leads you, please listen to His voice. He only wants the best for His children.

One more thing, if you know someone who could benefit from this, feel free to share. Thank you and God bless.

UPDATE:

March 9, 2021

It’s been 5 days since I posted this. I thought I would find relief in being finished with what God had asked me to do. Instead, for the past 5 days, I’ve felt a constant, relentless need to cry. My head has been swimming with thoughts such as, ‘What have I done?,’ ‘God, why did you ask me to do this?’, and many other doubts started flooding in. I try not to be dramatic, for my husband’s sake, so I’ve held my need to cry at bay.

Today, I find myself with some rare alone time. I love my husband dearly and cherish every second we spend together, but everyone needs alone time. Believe it or not, my husband needs time apart from me too.

Tonight I’m having a few friends over and I’m so excited about it. My plans for today consisted of cleaning house and preparing for their arrival.

Yesterday I had a Dr.’s appointment, I was gone 2 hours and when I got home my sweet husband had cleaned the house! When I asked him why he did it he said because he didn’t want me to spend my alone time cleaning house. He’s amazing!

Today I’ve found myself wandering around trying to find things to occupy my time. I came up with a few things but by 11 a.m. I had completed them all.

I pay our bills through online banking. A couple of bills were sitting on my computer so, for something to do, I sat down to pay them. As I’m sitting there, I see this little piece of paper on the floor. It was turned with the other side facing up. I figured it fell out of my Bible so I picked it up turned it over and my tears finally came flooding out.

I have been questioning God’s reasons for asking me to do this and He gave me answer. Some may call this coincidence, I don’t believe in coincidences. I have no memory of clipping this and putting it in my Bible. But I’m sure I did, I have many from over the years stuck all through my Bibles.

Judging by the first line, I clipped it at a time in my life when I needed to learn God wants me to talk freely with Him. Now He wants me to learn to talk freely with others. “As one unloads one’s heart to a dear friend.” Fellow Christians, you are all my dear friends.

Many of my close friends didn’t know these things about me until they read them here. One of my dearest friends, the one that passed from cancer, she never knew any of this.

God wants us to talk truthfully with each other. Christians aren’t meant to live life pretending we aren’t hurting, that life isn’t hard, or that we don’t sin. If I want honest, true conversation I must first be honest and true.

God is not offended by our true selves or our true thoughts. He created us to be in communion with Him and each other.

To be clear, I’m not saying everyone should do what I’ve done here. I am encouraging you to talk to God first and He will provide a safe trusting environment for you to speak freely.