This Servant Girl and her Sexual Abuse

It was a song that took me back to my teenage years. The music played and I had a flashback to the 1990′s where I see myself as a teenage girl. She wore her high school uniform, her skirt rolled a little higher to show off her legs and she laughed a lot with friends. She was grateful and loved her mama deeply who worked hard and tirelessly to give all she could for her children. A sacrifice that is understood when the circle of life continues to a place where she is now called ‘Mama’ by three.

She sees her younger brother in the picture, long, lean and full of life. He would sit near her on the bus as they traveled to school each day. She loved him dearly. Would do anything for him and still would.

Her mama had remarried a man who took a toll on her emotionally and he had an older son. A son that created ugly secrets for her to carry, to hide, creating darkness and stories that were never meant to be told.

Sin does that. Fights to keep servant girls silent allowing the grotesque to fester…

He lost in the end and she won.

The Pastor she was dating courageously asked one Spring evening if she had been sexually abused. Squashed, repressed memories came flooding back and pictures flashed before her eyes. She screamed at him, never ever to return to her home, to leave her life forever. He could see through compassionate eyes that girl was crying for the pain to flee, not him.

In heart ache we often push away the things we need most…

The flashbacks burned bright, creating uncontrollable emotion. The young Pastor respected her wishes and left for the evening. He knew that he’d be back and ask for her hand in marriage one day. That he’d need to stay close rather the distancing himself from her. His kind heart saw the very thing that girl needed-love and protection..

She ran through her empty house, phone in hand to call a girlfriend. She sobbed hard, chest heaving, confusion closing in creating a thick blanket of darkness. Her friend picked up the receiver to words repeating themselves over and over again.
“It’s not my fault” she said convincing herself as lies gripped.
“It’s not my fault.” Pause, more images seared. Tears fell hard and so did she for the next few years.

Her mama came home to a teenage mess, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. That brave young lady found courage somewhere deep within to rear the ugly. To blurt out the hidden secret to a place of safety.

Her mama wept hard and that girl saw first hand what a broken heart looked like that night. A heart which snapped in two.

The years have passed and time has healed her wounds fully. She married the Pastor and is about to celebrate her twelfth anniversary this Fall. She had three children and lives in freedom which is why she’s telling her story.

When you can’t get any lower the only place to look is up.

My eyes lifted to hope eternal and I relentlessly pursued His love and healing.

Through grace abounding the God who hung stars, moulded planets and carved ocean beds leaned in with divine power and mended my shard heart. It’s not a cliché or written words but truth which beats hope.

Hope for You and me…

The journey included counselling and a season of anti depressants but I say with true conviction that Christ healed me fully. Not partially or a little but He has renewed this servant girl and restored the most intricate, complex parts that yearned for something greater…something more.

He filled my empty chasm with peace. Praise Jesus.

There is a scar which tells a story but it doesn’t hurt anymore.

Your story doesn’t have to hurt anymore.

Can you look up?

Reach out?

Flood light into your unknown shadowed areas?

Life’s journey twists and turns greeting us with the unexpected. Our path eventually comes to a junction where we can take the right hand turn and walk down the road called “Hope” or continue just as we are.

Which way will you go?

(This subject is serious, heavy and often lonely. If I can help a friend which is you, yes you, then please shout out. From my friends in Puerto Rico to Europe, Stateside to Australiasia and everywhere inbetween-you need to know you’re not alone!)

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7 thoughts on “This Servant Girl and her Sexual Abuse

  1. Thank you for speaking about this. So many are affected by abuse and this story is so encouraging.God Bless you. You are his eternal treasure.

  2. Thanks so much for sharing the secrets that those of us who have been sexually abused are afraid & ashamed to talk about.
    . But one brave little girl told her parents who said & did nothing. Thank God this girl had the opportunity to share her story when she was 40 yrs.old while studying Social Work at university. Forgiveness, confronting the abuser & God healed her long standing wounds. This subject must be talked about though no one wants to hear it so that victims can become victors. I applaud your courage, Hanna.

    • And I your courage my friend! I can tell that we’ve been on a similar journey. How encouraging to see someone who has walked before cheer on a younger sister. Thankyou from the bottom of my heart!

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