Another survivor speaks:
“The biggest lie that I face is that there is something about me that made me more susceptible to abuse. I don't believe that I am at fault for my abuse by choices that I made, in some ways that would be easier. I actually believe that there is something about me that is less valuable or less "whole" than others, and so I was an easy target.
This belief affects every area of my life now. I struggle with my worth. I'm constantly unsure of myself and my abilities, despite others telling me differently. The voice of contempt in my mind is sometimes louder than all the rest. I hold myself to a standard that is unreasonably high, and when I fail, I blame myself.
I haven’t fully figured out how to combat this lie. For a long time, I thought the answer was me working on my self-esteem. But, recently, I have come to realize that feeling confident in me is not the goal. Instead, I need to find my worth in Him [Jesus]. This is the weakness that I have, so I need to find my strength in Him. It still is a struggle even with this understanding, but I try to take one day at a time.”
My heart ached as I read her words. She, like the other survivors I know, is a valuable person who is a treasure to many. I love that she has figured out that the abuse she suffered wasn’t based on anything she did or didn’t do, and most importantly, that her worth is not based on anything she did or can do.
A timeless Sunday school song says it well, “Red, brown, yellow, black, and white, they [she is] are precious in His sight . . .” This truth spits in the face of our culture. It penetrates to the core of the lie—one day at a time.
Image'>http://www.freedigitalphotos.net/images/view_photog.php?photogid=659">Image: Salvatore Vuono / FreeDigitalPhotos.net