When I was 8 years old, I was sexually abused by a trusted extended family member. I felt scarred, violated, confused, empty, lost and very badly limped through the rest of elementary school. Junior High was not much better. When I was in 8th grade, someone invited me to their church’s youth group and I started attending. An amazing and transparent leader took my group under her wing and eventually shared her story with us. Something in me clicked. As she described her story and her past sexual abuse, and Jesus Christ’s redeeming grace, a faint memory started to bubble up. It felt like a dream. In fact, I thought it was a dream. But, it was too vivid and detailed to be just a dream. Things started to make sense: no wonder I missed so many days in 4th grade, no wonder I was an emotional mess, no wonder I had given myself numerous stomach ulcers, no wonder I had such a tall emotional wall built up. The years of high school were hard and I continued to flounder emotionally. When I was 17, I had an encounter with the Lord like I had never and have not had since. I had accepted Christ when I was in 6th grade, but never acted like it or changed my behavior or choices. I had no Christian friends to hang with or go to church with and my parents were not believers (yet). That day, this 17 year old mess with nothing to really look forward to and really heading in the wrong direction made a decision to follow the One, the only One that could bring me peace and real comfort. I ended up attending Azusa Pacific University for college and was able to receive much needed healing through counseling. For the first time, I had hope, real hope that I could love and really be loved. That’s the thing about Christ, He loved me first. I struggled with the thought of how a good God could allow this to happen and then I realized that the sin of man allowed this to happen. God was there the whole time, heart broken, arms open, waiting for me and protecting me. I was able to forgive, really truly forgive my abuser and that was an amazing thing. I was able to meet (and marry) a man that loved me for ALL of my story, not just the pretty, neat parts. I was able to forgive and let go of all the guilt I was carrying. This was not my burden to bear, this was not my bag to haul. There is a loving Father that saw me and knew me and loved every part of me. So much so that He gave His son to die for me. He also saw YOU that day. He saw all of you and loved all of you and died for you and for me. Let’s be Christ to hurting people. Let’s love them like Christ loves us. Let’s hug and cry and be a salve for all the wounds instead of mud slingers and stone throwers. Let’s embrace each other’s damages and be the tangible arms of the One true healer and cradler and mender of our souls. I did not ask to be abused. There is nothing wrong with me because of it. It is part of my story and I am so thankful.
This is now my story. It’s interwoven into His story. Let this also be yours.
The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion--
to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,
the oil of joy instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor. Isaiah 61:1-3
When I was 8 years old, I was sexually abused by a trusted extended family member. I felt scarred, violated, confused, empty, lost and very badly limped through the rest of elementary school. Junior High was not much better. When I was in 8th grade, someone invited me to their church’s youth group and I started attending. An amazing and transparent leader took my group under her wing and eventually shared her story with us. Something in me clicked. As she described her story and her past sexual abuse, and Jesus Christ’s redeeming grace, a faint memory started to bubble up. It felt like a dream. In fact, I thought it was a dream. But, it was too vivid and detailed to be just a dream. Things started to make sense: no wonder I missed so many days in 4th grade, no wonder I was an emotional mess, no wonder I had given myself numerous stomach ulcers, no wonder I had such a tall emotional wall built up. The years of high school were hard and I continued to flounder emotionally. When I was 17, I had an encounter with the Lord like I had never and have not had since. I had accepted Christ when I was in 6th grade, but never acted like it or changed my behavior or choices. I had no Christian friends to hang with or go to church with and my parents were not believers (yet). That day, this 17 year old mess with nothing to really look forward to and really heading in the wrong direction made a decision to follow the One, the only One that could bring me peace and real comfort. I ended up attending Azusa Pacific University for college and was able to receive much needed healing through counseling. For the first time, I had hope, real hope that I could love and really be loved. That’s the thing about Christ, He loved me first. I struggled with the thought of how a good God could allow this to happen and then I realized that the sin of man allowed this to happen. God was there the whole time, heart broken, arms open, waiting for me and protecting me. I was able to forgive, really truly forgive my abuser and that was an amazing thing. I was able to meet (and marry) a man that loved me for ALL of my story, not just the pretty, neat parts. I was able to forgive and let go of all the guilt I was carrying. This was not my burden to bear, this was not my bag to haul. There is a loving Father that saw me and knew me and loved every part of me. So much so that He gave His son to die for me. He also saw YOU that day. He saw all of you and loved all of you and died for you and for me. Let’s be Christ to hurting people. Let’s love them like Christ loves us. Let’s hug and cry and be a salve for all the wounds instead of mud slingers and stone throwers. Let’s embrace each other’s damages and be the tangible arms of the One true healer and cradler and mender of our souls. I did not ask to be abused. There is nothing wrong with me because of it. It is part of my story and I am so thankful.
This is now my story. It’s interwoven into His story. Let this also be yours.
The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion--
to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,
the oil of joy instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor. Isaiah 61:1-3
