As a follow-up to the previous posts (here and here), I am publishing another one that came from the lack of writing recently. Perhaps that was a good thing, as a new beginning came in the form of my church’s Women’s Retreat this past month and I could not be more thankful that, perhaps, the hiatus provided fertile ground, if you will, for healing and writing. That said, I’m back on track and ready to write again.
For those who have stuck by me, I am grateful. Thank you and I appreciate your encouragement and patience along the way. Knowing that someone is reading this and may very well take this poem as an inspiration for their own writing, a way to deepen this or her relationship with God, etc., does much to encourage me also. The glory of God and y’all are the reasons I keep writing, even with the long breaks in mind. Thank you for continuing to encourage me in my journey and know that I am praying over and supportive of yours as well.
One more thing: you may notice that I refer to childhood abuse. My dad was physically and emotionally abusive for the majority of my childhood, including adolescence. As such, I spent most of my late adolescence and twenties believing the following:
- I had to earn God’s love.
- I was a deficient and second-rate believer at best and a heretic at worst.
- I deserved the physical and emotional abuse my dad inflicted thanks to the above.
- That I was abused meant that I wasn’t good enough for God since He saw fit to ordain that for me.
- That I wasn’t as wanted and cherished as He promised me I am as His child, so the abuse was simply my lot for whatever I did to make myself a second-rate, barely qualified child of God.
Thankfully, none of that was true and it will never be. Unfortunately, that is very common thinking among those who have suffered child abuse, as I did. (*See below for more on the subject.)
For those who find this sensitive topic triggering, you are always welcome to reach out and I will be glad to help you in your journey towards healing. I have always considered part of the purpose of the writing I have done to love God and others as myself and I won’t stop doing my very best, by God’s truth and grace alone, to do that. As such, here is the poem in question, without further ado.
A New Perspective/Broken for Healing’s Sake
Fighting against the turmoil of an abusive upbringing
By the parent who was most responsible for Godly child-rearing
Didn’t exactly place me in a situation ripe for believing God’s claims.
Thankfully, though, Mom wouldn’t sit back quietly and hear Dad’s “no”
Choosing instead to forge a new path ahead and point her children to the Messiah-
The Father my sister and I needed all along and, blessed be His Name, knew very young
Thanks to the example of His love God gave us through our righteous, devoted Mom.
Now, almost thirty years from the time I became a Christian,
I look back and see fully now the dangers of my warped perspective.
That is, growing up, while I loved the Lord and knew Him,
I thought His love must be conditional and only when I was good enough for Him.
After all, I reasoned, He wasn’t protecting me from Dad’s abuse, I thought,
So He either wasn’t Who He claimed He was or there really was no God.
That, in itself, I realize now, was understandable, and thank God I was wrong!
Though my teenage, trauma-wounded vision was clouded, there He was
Opening my eyes in my darkest moments to see the fullness of His love
And to realize the problem was not me, Whom he loves ,
But the abuse my sister and I endured and the poison in my thoughts.
I really believed I wasn’t worth His time, or if so, barely His child.
If I really was, then, I wondered, why did I have to wait a while?
Why wait a while, that is, for Him “help my unbelief” and heal me?
If He really did care for me, then why would He hurt me when I was already weak?
Why did I have to go through the trials of trauma, rejection, and brokenness?
(Yes, I really did think I needed to earn His love-
And that He thought me weak and stubborn,
So the abuse my dad inflicted was just.
Either that, or maybe, just maybe, sadly,
He didn’t care, or there was no God in Whom to believe!)
What if the breaking, though, was the beginning of a new life- or, a new perspective?
What if He was calling me to walk with Him all along and could take my questions?
What if, perhaps, I had to stop asking questions for a moment to listen
And hear the voice of my Father, Lord, and Savior telling me I am cherished?
Only now have I come to realize that I always had the advocacy of the Holy Spirit
And the blood of the Son to establish my place with Him- plus His intercession-
For the Father to hear and grant my requests according to His best
That I might see, even when life hurts me, when I make mistakes, or truly sin,
That I was, am, and will always be His child- wanted, cherished, and truly beloved.
Well, then, it is a blessing indeed that I was broken for healing’s sake
When the time finally came to lay down my pride and walk anew in faith
That a new perspective, “a future and a hope” would govern my life- a needed change!
Thank You, God, and do what You want with me, in Your Most Holy Name. Amen.
* The Scripture verses quoted are Mark 9:24 and Jeremiah 29:11, respectively.
** For more information on common, toxic thought patterns in the minds of victims of child abuse: