Warning: Before reading any further please know that this
blog is going to touch on a sensitive subject, and is not intended for younger
audiences. However, I do believe it’s a topic that is avoided far too much and
just want you to be aware that you should read with caution.
I swore to myself that I wouldn’t write this blog,
especially not before I even left for the Race. But the Lord continues to press
on my heart, a little more each day, so here I sit, writing possibly the
hardest blog I’ll ever write. My prayer for those of you who read it is that it
may bring healing to your heart, a better understanding, or maybe a little bit
of both. So here goes…
I was thirteen years old when he touched me for the first
time. It wasn’t something I wanted and he knew that. But still on it went, for
a little over a year. He was supposed to be my friend, and even throughout this
painful experience, I believed he was. The experience left me scared and
confused, but since I escaped the abuse with my virginity in tact, I let myself
believe the lie that it wasn’t any big deal. My mind even lead me to the
possibility that this was normal, and it shouldn’t bother me as much as it did.
When people go through abuse, they recall different things,
specific details. I think the thing that sticks out most to me is the greed in
his eyes and the lies he spoke to me. These two things have haunted me for
years, and some days they still do.
There were a lot of things that happened throughout my
abuse. My sense of self-worth was completely warped and I began a long period
of self-injury. My view of men was completely skewed and I saw men as nothing
more than people who used and manipulated others for their own sick sense of
pleasure.
But I believe one of the most tragic things that happened
through all of this is that my voice was silenced.
And my voice stayed silent, for almost ten years. Up until a
year ago, there were few people that knew about the abuse I suffered. I was
scared to speak out about what had happened, and even more scared to relive the
painful experiences I went through in order to gain healing. It’s still hard
for me to process through and to talk about. There’s still healing that needs
to happen.
But the Lord has done something so great in all of this. He
has given my voice back.
See I believe there is a calling on my life, that is very
simple, but also very hard at times. The Lord has called me to fight for those
who have lost their voice. He has brought me to a place of freedom and healing
to share that with His sons and daughters that are broken.
To anybody who has suffered through any form of abuse, I
want to tell you something that you have probably heard a thousand times, but
today I hope it really sticks with you. You are not defined by what happened to
you. You are defined by what the God of the universe says about you. He calls
you redeemed. He calls you clean. He calls you FREE. You are sons and daughters
of the Most High King.
When I was thirteen, part of my innocence was lost. I also
lost my voice that day. It is okay to mourn what has been lost. It’s okay to
grieve things that have happened to you. But the Lord wants to be there to
grieve with you. And whether or not you believe it, He was there when you were
suffering, and He is here with you now. As He walks you to a place of freedom,
He is holding you every step of the way.
I hope by sharing a little bit of my story and a small piece
of my heart with you, this helps you understand why I’m so willing to give up
this life of comfort to go to the nations.
The Lord has given me beauty for ashes and I believe that is
something He wants me to share with the world. There are broken lives that will
be restored. There are lost and hurting sons and daughters. There are children
whose voices have been SILENCED. And the Lord has said No more. He’s called
me to be a part of that. It is His way of bringing healing to my heart and
restoring hope that was lost. What has been lost will be found, what has been
broken will be restored. He makes all things new.
