“It was like a horrendous dust storm that was too significant at the time to settle, so I couldn’t fully grasp what had and was occurring. My thoughts were muddled. I was crushed but would do my best to try to understand and succeed regardless. It was just an endless string of what-ifs.”
Scars do not need to define us, rather through us engaging with Jesus’ scars and letting
his wounds touch our wounds, we can find healing and identity—we can be defined by hope!
When Ruby first met her husband, he seemed ideal, lined up with her future visions and goals, and he was in seminary.
Guest Post by Sage Sparrow I’m a survivor of domestic abuse and I remember the day my world as I knew it came crashing down around me. I got a phone call from an elder at my church hours before I was planning to help lead a children’s program. Don’t come, not for...
According to her husband and his reading of submission verses to her – everything
was her fault. She began to read books on submission, one of them taught her that if she could do all the right things,
adore/reverence, and make her husband’s life easy, the abuse would stop. She
decided to follow the book’s advice, but the more submission she gave him, the
more he demanded, and the more he exerted control.
I stepped out bravely into what I thought would be rebuilding my new life. I wasn’t expecting a gazillion trips to my attorney’s office, the domestic abuse center, and court, including parking fees each day I had to go. I wasn’t expecting medical appointments for the children and the expenses that my husband refused to reimburse. Child support took six months to get settled. None of that was in my plan.
These days, when I think back on the statement I was asked to make about missing God’s best for my life, I realize that the exact opposite has been true. Only in brokenness was I made whole, and only in great loss did I truly recognize my desperate need that only He could fill.