Dec 26, 2018
Survivor. That is a loaded word—sometimes it makes me feel like the trauma is over. But really it just means that you have learned to fly again after your wings have been broken. Sometimes you never really feel whole. I didn’t for a long time and sometimes I still don’t. I was abused for several years and each time I can remember feels like another break. I wasn’t made whole again until God reached into my life and saved me. I was at a camp and I grew tired of fighting God. I remembered what it was to be loved by Him. It took two more years for me to give Him my burdens. Even now I struggle with trying to take them back.
Even with this, God has turned it into my ministry so I can give hope to those still fighting. Though I still struggle with shame and hurt, He shows me things and takes the time to lay a path before me. I don’t know where I will be in five or ten years, but I am certain that by faith I will be serving the will of God—a path that I actively avoided a large majority of my life. I didn’t deserve any of the healing God provided me. I cried out to Him and He answered and gave me more than I could have ever imagined.
He showed me mercy when I didn’t even know what that meant anymore. I didn’t have an identity after the abuse. But God knew who I was, and now everyday He restores me more and more. Even to the point where I feel I am overflowing and then He gives me a bigger cup. Psalm 23 has always reminded me of who I am under the grace of God:
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul. He leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
This Psalm was attributed to David, who went through much worse things than I did, praising God, the shepherd of his people. He continuously found God’s favor even though he struggled terribly, and I hope to one day understand the love of God like he did.
—Anonymous
I was raised living with my mother, dad, and sister in the state of Oregon. Dad was physically abusive to me. The hits would be mostly to my ribs and legs. Because of this I had a very warped view of God and what it meant to be a Christian. He would fight with my mother pretty much daily, unless others were around. There was much more—however, I don’t like to dwell on that part. I prefer to look at what God did through it.
Much later, when I was around 31 years old, the phone rang, and it was Dad saying he needed to see me right away. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next: he hit his knees begging me to forgive him. In all honesty, I didn’t trust it so I asked him, “What for?” He proceeded to cry and recount everything he had done to me, my mother, and my sister. After a short conversation, I told him that I forgave him. Even though I wasn’t following Christ, He was still speaking to me that the right thing was to forgive my dad. What followed was a relationship that I never knew was possible.
About 18 months later, my dad died suddenly at work. At that moment I became angry with God. Keep in mind—I was angry with a God that I was not following. I was angry and thought, “just when I have a relationship with my dad you take him!” Anger stayed with me as I continued to live a life not following Christ, believing all the lies of the enemy. Then one day about a year later as I was driving to work, the radio played a Christian song and it hit me like a ton of bricks how selfish I was being. Sitting on the side of the road, crying, I lifted my hands to Heaven and begged my Father in Heaven to forgive me for my selfishness. How could I be mad at God for giving me 18 months of a relationship with my dad, when most people in my situation don’t ever get that type of healing with the person who hurt them?
It was through this revelation that God began to slowly transform my heart and to soften it. Anger didn’t drive me any longer, and the pain I once held onto so strongly began to disappear slowly—but it was no longer fueling me as it once did. I was attending church and beginning to search for who God really was, rather than what I had grown up believing. The more I searched for Him, the more He showed up.
In 2009, I dedicated my life to Christ and was baptized. Since that time God has placed many godly men and women in my path. The more I search for relationship with Christ, the more He reveals Himself and the more healing takes place. God has brought me to a place where I am able to acknowledge what happened to me—which for a long time was difficult. Through God’s forgiveness and healing I have developed a passion for Him that burns in my heart like a wildfire. It is somewhat difficult to find the words to describe the joy and healing He has brought in my life. I feel truly humbled and thankful that God has called me to serve Him and spread His gospel.
Thank you, Father in Heaven, for bringing my heart from darkness into your light, where I have been healed and can be a light for you! Amen.
—Pastor Steve Hinton
New Auburn, WI
The night everything changed is one I will never forget. I was alone, I was bruised, and I was broken. I had finally given up—for five years I convinced myself I could take care of myself. I’d be just fine. After all, I was stronger than most; at least that’s what I would try to tell myself. But I knew I was losing; I was just too proud to admit it. So finally, here I was lying in a bed in a women’s shelter trying to keep my crying quiet so as not to disturb the others staying there, convinced I would never be whole again. In complete desperation I decided to call on God. I couldn’t handle life anymore, and I was sure He wasn’t going to help either—what right did I even have to ask? After all, I’d never really even spoken to Him before, and here I was asking Him to fix this mess. But I was wrong. That moment everything changed— it started with just a calm feeling and being able to drift off to sleep, but it continued.
Over the next few weeks, I was invited to live with one of the ladies from church. I started doing odd jobs for the church (which turned into working for the church for a long while). The church provided clothing, food, help with meds, transportation, and after a run-in with my ex, rented me a room in a sober living home a couple of cities over for safety. Throughout this time I was a mess, still recovering, with all the baggage that brings. But God never let me down—everything I needed was provided, from the basics of food and clothes to the deeper things like friendships and mentors, a loving church family.
But I can’t make it sound like it was all easy either—that would be misleading. There were plenty of trials and rough spots along the way. My health had been shaky ever since the worst day (week, month) of my bad relationship, and it took a turn for the worse when I caught a nasty disease and had to be treated with powerful meds. I lost my strength, my hair, and I was an emotional mess. Unrelated, but around the same time, I had to have all my remaining teeth pulled, as they were bad and getting infected all the time. But God provided the funds for dentures at exactly the right time, and now people don’t even realize I have plastic teeth. And not one of these times did I have to go through anything alone. My health will never be what it was before, but I’m totally okay with that. I’m alive and loved and that is good enough for me.
So here we are several years later and I’m a whole different person. My priorities are different, my goals are different, my relationships are different. But most importantly, my faith is better than it ever was and I’m not scared anymore. I went from a scared little girl who was sure she had lost all hope of being loved to a young woman who has learned a valuable lesson in what love really means. In a of couple weeks I will be celebrating my first anniversary with my husband, and everything is good. We have struggles and we have bad days, but we are never alone, and we were never alone, and we will never be alone. That would have been enough, but God hasn’t stopped yet. We are about to start on yet another chapter, and I can’t wait to see how this one goes.
—Ann Davenport
Boulder, CO
Sadly, statistics tell us that there are many survivors of abuse in our world, and more importantly, in our churches. Too often, survivors aren’t cared for well in our churches. Sometimes, this is because the trauma they have experienced makes it difficult for them to tell their stories. Other times it is because they have trusted individuals or churches with their stories and the church has failed to provide the necessary support.
In this month’s Sabbath Recorder, we asked survivors of abuse to tell their stories and to explain about how God is moving in their recovery to bring healing and wholeness into their lives. These survivors have graciously agreed to briefly share parts of their stories with us. We hope the readers of this month’s issue will carefully consider these testimonies as they minister to the survivors in their own lives, congregations, and communities.
“Be still and know I am God”
—Psalm 46:10
This is one of my favorite verses. It was the ringing truth for me during the worst part
of my recovery from childhood trauma and sexual abuse. Every time I read it, it gives me peace beyond understanding. I wasn’t always in that place while recovering. When I was 14 years old, I walked into my now home church broken, angry, and damaged. Due to that childhood sexual abuse, I didn’t trust a lot of people, and probably pushed away anyone who tried to come close. At the time, I didn’t realize that God had sent those people into my life to give me the love He so desperately wanted to share with me. As I shared more about my story, the consistent love and acceptance from my home church helped guide me through recovery of my childhood trauma.
Youth group was one of my safe spaces in high school. That was where I found my niche. That was where I felt like I belonged. One night after youth group, I was really struggling. It had been a difficult week. I was struggling with flashbacks and the pain. One youth group leader could tell I was hurting and came over to just sit with me. There was no expectation to talk or explain. They were just there.
So, you might be asking yourself, “How can I help those recovering from sexual abuse?” You can be there. You don’t have to have fancy words or anything profound. Be there
if they need to cry or laugh or be angry. You can be still and know that God is God.
—Karissa Bornemann
Milton, WI