I ponder one thing that showed consistent throughout those years of wicked condemnation and unbridled attacks I endured physically and mentally. Letting the memories seep into consciousness and dwell in the whirlpools of emotion that coincide with them, I mark the constant, my faith. Faith that suffering does end and faith that I would be released from the bondage that molded the me of today. My sole belief that is not based on proof, but on a feeling that someone greater any one of us, is taking care of me. I have always believed GOD takes care of me, even during the extreme suffering from brutal violations of my mind and soul, as well as my physical being.
I pulled strength from my faith and although there were times I have been at great distance from GOD, he remained within me only to show his love at my darkest moments. He spread peace over me to be able to withstand the torment of childhood sexual abuse. Abuse, I am reminded from my dad's own voice, that slowed down to 2 or 3 times a week toward the end of many years of torture. I held fast that the end would arrive and I could flee my personal hell.
I wanted to share the spiritual journey I traveled in knowing that not all survivors feel this way. And that is okay. I know for me, had it not been for my faith, I would have long ago been lost and/or dead as a result of the choices I made. The radio show I did with Butterfly Dreams and Abuse Recovery thriver, Tricia McNight (@triciagirl62 for those on twitter) raised these questions within me and I spent the last several days in deeper contemplation about the answer I gave.
Today I rose to the sunshine of another glorious day, opened my Bible as I often do and there before me was the answer in a nutshell. The passage jumped off the page as I read, "And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us." He has given little me the Holy Spirit and with his love, HOPE. That is how I made it through the fiery hell of my young life. Believing and carrying the hope that I would survive victorious.
That's how I continue to heal from the horrors that almost destroyed my life and the lives of others. AND today, love, faith and hope burst from my heart that leaps with great joy each and every day.