freedom

This week I have the honor of sharing a guest post from one of the bravest women I have ever known. Over the past year I have watched in awe her transformation and admire the boldness she possesses. Kelly is an advocate for women who have been victims of abuse and desires for them to experience the same redemption and freedom she now has after so many years of longing and praying.

Please support her mission and ministry by visiting Blankets of Redemption.

“God, please make it go away!”

“It” didn’t even have a name. There were memories, categories, ideas for “it” in my head, but I wasn’t even sure what “it” was. I just knew “it” had to go away. Most people in my life who knew about “it” were not supportive or helpful. I think they didn’t really know what to do with “it” either. So when my family moved two states away from where we had called home our entire lives, I was determined more than ever to make “it” go away and get a clean break.

I know, you probably are wondering what in the world “it” is. I have a name for “it” now. “It” is sexual abuse that I experienced for some time during my childhood. When God redeemed me, called me Daughter, I was certain I had to make it go away. All the other Christians I was surrounded by at the time seemed to agree, as they insisted it didn’t matter at all because “if anyone is in Christ he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

So I prayed, “God, please make it go away!” I prayed the only words I could find for experiences I had no words for.

But it never did go away. I tried for years and years, yet it persisted. It’s impact seemed to spread to every part of me and my life. I was very good at pretending it wasn’t there and hiding all the ways it made itself present. Still, it haunted me, and still I begged God to make it go away…until I stopped praying because I thought God didn’t care about it in the first place.

I knew God loved me. I knew He cared about me. I had seen His grace, mercy, forgiveness, and kindness over and over in my life in every area but that one. Yet I always felt I was somehow less than because He was leaving “it” and refusing to hear my oh-so-desperate cries it seemed.

Then completely unexpectedly, God brought a woman into my life who began to walk with me on a journey to healing from the abuse of my past. He began healing parts of my life that “it” had left mangled and desolate. He began to teach me that “it” does not have to go away, and so many years later, He was beginning to answer that short, desperate prayer I had long since stopped praying.

The healing came slowly, but He is such a patient Father. One day, as I was having a conversation with a dear friend and sister in Christ, she said something that had such a profound impact on me I nearly burst into tears in an instant. She was talking about 1 Timothy 1:7 which says, “For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self control.” As she talked about this spirit of love given by God, she said, “you don’t have to make it go away because you are loved with that part of you.”

That truth…what freedom it brings. Walls I have built decades high in hopes of self protection were shattered the moment she spoke that to me. In that moment I realized I do not have to make it go away, because I am perfectly, wholly, beautifully loved…all of me…even the broken, shattered, messy part that bears the wounds of abuse.

I am perfectly, wholly, beautifully loved...all of me...even the broken, shattered, messy part... Click To Tweet

As I meditated on and considered this truth, I thought back to that verse that was once used to tell me that “it” didn’t matter and should be buried. That verse which was used in such a hurtful and harmful way was used in an incomplete way also. I realized that the old passing away does not mean the abuse disappears and does not matter or have an impact on my life. It highlights the the place where the present and the eternal touch. I am already made new. Yet, I live in this body affected by sin. I am called to renewal in the present while having already been made new in the eternal. The old that passes away…it doesn’t disappear. The old is the pieces God uses to make the new mosaic of me that reaches completion when my journey on this earth is finished, and I am home with my Abba Father in heaven for eternity.

I am already new in Christ, yet He is making me new each day. He sees the mosaic, the work He is doing in me, already completed in His eternal view, yet He is making the new mosaic out of the old broken pieces right now in the present. He doesn’t make the old disappear. He redeems it all while it is already redeemed. I don’t have to make “it” go away.

I think we all have an “it” if we’re really honest with ourselves. That one thing we feel we must hide or pretend isn’t there. The thing we have pushed so far down into the darkest parts of us we won’t even let God in. “It” could be something we have done, or something done to us, or a combination of both. That makes no difference. Whatever your “it,” you do not have to make it go away. You are perfectly, wholly, beautifully loved with it, whatever “it” may be. It may be old, but it does not disappear. God uses it to create in you the newness He already sees. He will meet you in the middle of the mess “it” has left behind. He redeems you with it. He loves you with it.

Please, if you are a victim of abuse, seek help. You are not alone, and do not need to stand alone. Allow others to walk with you, or even carry you through this. I pray you were blessed and challenged by Kelly’s words. Please continue to share her story so that others will experience this same freedom of living life being who they were created to be.

I acknowledge that my life has been blessed. I was raised by a mom and dad who loved each other, and loved all four of us kids. I still have good relationships with all of my siblings. I married a man who adores, supports, and encourages me. He is hard working and has provided well for our family. My children are healthy, and (most of the time) fun to be around. I wonder at times if others see my life, and think that I have it all together. I’m not sure what they see, but I know that they don’t see it all.

What others may not see…

People didn’t see me when my mom died, and how I lost it at work having to excuse myself from a patient because the tears just would not stop. No one saw the chasm that was growing between my husband and I during that time because we were both so steeped in self-pity. They didn’t see the guilt I carried because I was the only one of my siblings not present when she died. Others didn’t see the whirlwind of busy work I was doing because I wanted to avoid dealing with the grief.

Others also didn’t see me grow bitter when my husband’s job wasn’t enough to support us. Or when he was out of work. They didn’t see the bitterness grow to anger against God when we stepped out in faith to begin a business, only to have years of financial hardship follow.

No one saw the hurt I held on to when rejection from others happened, and then happened again, and then yet again. They didn’t see me sitting in church alone because I was told “no” when I asked to sit next to someone. People didn’t see me crying in the car, begging my husband to not ask me to go back to church.

They didn’t see me as a new mom, completely unsure of myself, not knowing what I suppose to do. Wasn’t I suppose to love this little person, half me/half my husband, right from the start? I didn’t. I felt trapped. I screamed, and cried, and had melt downs. And when the second child came, it all started over again. People didn’t see the bruises on my legs from where I hit myself repeatedly because I hated who I was. It’s hard when you don’t like yourself, there’s nowhere to go to get away. Unless I chose to drink. Yeah, they didn’t see that either.

People don’t see the days that I can’t seem to do anything other than lose myself in mindless activities, trying to find things to do so I can ignore the things I need to be focused on. No one sees me struggle with certain aspects of my faith, questioning in silence because I’m afraid of the response from others.

My life is kind of like my house. It looks clean when you walk in, but please don’t go into my closet, or try to open a drawer. It’s the inside where the mess lies. My life, like my house, can be quite messy.

No matter how good the lives of others may seem, we don’t know what mess there is inside of them. Inside of all of us there is a mess, but… Oh friends, I am so thankful to have a “but” in my life story. I am messy, but God… thinks I am beautiful. When he sees me, he sees someone who is perfectly imperfect. He has taken my messed up life, redeemed it, and is making it beautiful.

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. Philippians 1:6, ESV

How about you?

The Lord also tells us, through the prophet Isaiah, that He will replace our mourning. He will give us beauty. His healing and redemption is what makes us beautiful.

Mourning involves admitting that there is, in fact, a mess. It’s acknowledging the reality of our situation. When we stop pretending, stop running, stop lying to ourselves and others, then we give the Lord the freedom to transform it into beauty.

So… What kind of messes are in your life?

Messy, but God… thinks you are beautiful.

(And I think you’re beautiful too!)

Haunted: Finding Redemption from Abuse

You Are Beautiful

What others may not see…

How about you?