Used with permission, Photography by Christy Mae, Copyright 2012 |
Tamar's Redemption Tuesdays
How We Hurt, How We Heal
Thirty-six years a survivor and I still wrestle with God.
When painful memories overwhelm, it’s hard for me to see –
to see God in that darkness. I have pleaded with God for His “five w” answers,
but all I really want to know is “Why?”
Blaming my adult abuser was not enough for me. God became an
easy target for my barrage of questions and doubts, my feelings of anger and
helplessness.
If You created my inmost being and my days are written in
your book, then how did You know and do nothing? Was I not worth it?
How easy it was to assume He had turned a blind eye. If He wouldn't look out for me, I would have to do it. Stubbornly I assigned myself protection
duties and began a career as a control freak – I would never be hurt again.
Back then, I needed a hero to swoop in and save the day. But
He never came.
Or so I believed.
“Where were You when sin stole my innocence?
Where were You when I was ashamed?”
-Matt Maher “You Were On The Cross”
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