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As I checked back through former posts, I found that the first two have somehow been deleted. As many of you have begun to follow them since the first two were posted, I'm going to repeat some of the second one. The first post was mostly an introduction.
In our small United Methodist Church , we had a wonderful revival that lasted for three months drawing people from other areas as they learned about it. Three incidents happened during that three month period that has given my life purpose and direction these last 15 years. I praise God that He isn't through with us on this earth until we are with Him in Heaven, and that age and physical condition are not barriers--maybe just tests to see if we will obey Him when He asks something of us. I pray that this post will allow you to understand my urgency to get this story out.
The first incident was when a friend told me she'd had a dream about me the previous night. I asked her what she had dreamed and she related the following:
"I had come to your house for a visit. You were dressed to leave and asked me to come with you. I asked where we were going, but you just said, "You'll see." We drove until we came to a large church. I asked what we were doing there, but all you would tell me was, "You'll see." We walked in and the church was packed with women who stood and clapped as you made your way to the podium. You were there to speak to them, Betty."
I had been amused as I listened until my friend spoke the last sentence. My heart felt as if a knife were piercing it and I began to weep. I knew in my spirit this was no ordinary dream, but that God was revealing to me something He wanted me to do. But, I had no idea what I could speak about that would be of interest to other women.
The next night I listened as the young man behind me stood and gave his testimony of how God had delivered him from a life of alcohol and drugs. "And now He is using my testimony to deliver other people."
Again, pain tore through my heart and tears ran down my cheeks. I didn't open my mouth or even move my lips as my heart cried, "Oh, God, I wish I had a testimony that would help other people, but mine is too filled with shame!" I had not thought of that as a prayer, but God heard my heart.
A few days later, I sat down in the recliner at home to take a short rest when I heard a voice I'd never heard before but one I recognized immediately. In a voice I can only describe as one of gentle authority, He spoke the following words that are seared into my mind and heart:
"Your testimony is not a testimony of shame, it's a testimony of praise. For it's not about you, it's about Me and what I've done in your life. And I Want You to Tell It."
I jumped out of that recliner praising God, and as I did, that dirty robe of shame fell from me never to be worn again. I was freed of the final grip that Satan had on my soul from the sexual abuse. And now, He had made clear what He wanted me to tell other women--and I was ready!
The next morning, however, I realized there was something I needed to do before rushing headlong to tell it. God's Spirit reminded me that telling my story was going to affect a lot of people, as it would be impossible (I thought) not to include them in it. I had not been sexually abused for four years in a vacuum. So, I sat down and wrote everyone I thought I might have to mention. I received one precious letter and one very angry telephone call in response. That person had every right to be angry as I could tell my story without involving him/her. Mine is the only story I have the right to tell. I guess I'll never know how the other letters were received, for they never acknowledged receiving them. However, I felt I had made everyone who might be affected aware that I was going to do what God had directed me to do.
And, now He began opening doors for me to tell it--churches, prison, small women's groups,
and one on one as hurting women heard of my story and wanted to share the pain they were carrying. I think the place that both surprised me the most and broke my heart was in Kentucky State Prison with approximately 45 inmates. They listened so attentively that I knew I was striking a familiar chord. A lot of these men had been sexually abused as children. Although they aren't allowed to hug a woman, they would take my hand in both of theirs, look me directly in the eyes, and say softly, "Thank you, Ma'am" as they filed out of the chapel. The last one in line looked to be a teenager. As I looked into his hurting eyes, I wanted to put my arms around him to take away his pain. Instead, I turned quickly and burst into tears.
As satisfying as each of these experiences was, I knew they needed more than I could offer them in a telephone conversation or speaking to them. My heart became heavy as I tried to pray about this. But, something seemed to be blocking my prayers.
Eventually, God revealed that He wanted me to go to my abuser and tell him that I had forgiven him. I couldn't believe He would ask me to confront someone who had used me so badly and who now appeared to have convinced himself that he had never done anything wrong. I feared confronting someone whom I knew would become angry. In other words, I knew I was in for quite a scary experience. I decided that was asking more of me than I could do, so I didn't go. But, our God is a patiently persistent and loving God. He knew the plans he had for asking me to go to my abuser, and eventually I could no longer stand being disobedient to Him.
Once I had made up my mind to go, I knew I had to go soon or I would lose my nerve. So, early one morning I got in the car and drove the twenty-plus miles to the home he shared with his wife and her son. I was concerned as to whether or not she should be a part of this confrontation. I needn't have worried.
When I arrived, I saw that the person I'd come to see was not there. Seeing his wife's car in the garage, I decided to visit with her and maybe learn when her husband would be home. I knocked several times before she came to the door. When she finally did, I knew something was wrong. She never went without makeup and her hair always looked as if she had been to a beauty parlor that day. But, today her eyes were red from crying, and she hadn't attempted to comb her hair nor apply the ever-present make-up. I asked what in the world was wrong. I waited and had decided she didn't want to answer my question, but suddenly she took a deep breath and said, "My husband accused me last night of sleeping with my own son. How could he ever think I could do such a sick thing?"
That answered any doubt I had as to whether she needed to be included in this confrontation. I felt it was time she knew some answers, so I asked her to sit down. We both sat at the kitchen table and I told her that his accusations were coming from a guilty conscience. Then I told her of the years of abuse I had suffered at his hands. We talked for a good while before we heard her husband's truck in the driveway.
He walked into the kitchen and looked first at me and then his wife. Turning to me again, he asked angrily, "What are you doing here?" Before I could answer, his wife interjected quickly, "Joe (not his real name), I didn't call her." There was fear in her eyes.
Ignoring her, he demanded again to know why I was there.
"I came to tell you that I forgive you for the years of sexual abuse at your hands," I answered determinedly.
His anger turned to rage as he shouted that I was lying and that I was out of place. This went on for what seemed to be forever, but in reality was probably only minutes. Finally, with my hands gripped together in my lap so that he couldn't see them shaking, I said quietly but with conviction, "I'm not afraid of your anger anymore."
Suddenly, he screamed loudly and fell to his knees beside the kitchen chair. As he knelt, he began begging God to forgive him. Then he asked if I could forgive him. I walked around the table, laid my hand on his shaking shoulder and told him that was all I'd ever wanted to hear. He continued praying, so I slipped out the door. His repentance was between him and the Jesus he had at one time so loved.
(I had thought that going to my abuser and telling him I forgave him was for my benefit. What I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around is His love--a love that loves abuser and victim alike. All through the years, he had loved the one who abused me--his victim. And the love of God used the victim to draw the abuser to Himself. I just can't grasp that kind of love, but I gladly accept it.)
I hadn't realized just how much of a toll on my nerves the scene with him had taken. But, as I put my foot on the gas pedal, it shook up and down on it making the car buck jump. I realized then that my body was shaking all over. I prayed, "Oh, God, You brought me here. Please help me get home safely!" He did, and as soon as my husband returned home from work, I told him everything that had taken place with my abuser. He listened but didn't comment just then. It would be the next day before I knew how he felt about the confrontation.
I pray, as you read my story, that if you, too, have a history of sexual abuse, that you will not compare your story with mine or any other person's. We each, if we allow Him, will walk our own journey to wholeness with God along the path He ordains. I began my own journey at the age of 48, so I've traveled it for 25 years. I've called it a terribly/wonderful journey. God brought me through the terrible part and walks with me still through the wonderful part.
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Not, everyone will be asked to confront their abuser as I was. But, in case you feel God leading you to do so, here are some tips I learned from my own experience plus a few I've read of others' experiences.
1. BE SENSITIVE TO GOD'S TIME WHEN AND IF HE LEADS YOU TO GO TO HIM.
Don't be pressured by others, or your own sense of what is the right thing to do.
2. NEVER GO ALONE!
Some abusers are violent and could harm you. Confrontation takes a toll on us regardless of the outcome. We need the physical and emotional support of another person.
3. GO IN PRAYER AND NOT IN YOUR OWN STRENGTH.
4. KNOW YOUR MOTIVE FOR GOING.
Though I chose not to share it, I had confronted my abuser once before--in anger. I came away from that experience shaken by the fact that I had wanted to kill him.
5. TRUST GOD FOR DISCERNMENT IN DETECTING FALSE SORROW (SELF-PITY) FROM TRUE REPENTANCE.
True repentance will show itself as real sorrow over his sin. False sorrow will show itself as self-pity.
6. DON'T OFFER RELATIONSHIP WITHOUT REPENTANCE
Forgiveness can be offered w/out repentance, relationship cannot.
7. KNOW WHAT IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY AND WHAT IS NOT.
Make no demands on your abuser, but don't back down from stating the truth and offering forgiveness. Once we've genuinely done this, our responsibility toward him is done. We must keep our hearts open for his repentance, but not try and make things easy for him to deny his sin, commit it against someone else, or take away his need for repentance.
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