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UPDATE: After the overwhelming response to this post, I made it part of a 3-part series designed to address our stories, and the two most common consequences many of us face: Anxiety and Depression.


It was a shocking moment. Probably the most shocking of my life. But there was no denying it. It made absolutely no sense, and yet, it made perfect sense all at the same time.

I was scrolling through Twitter and ran across this conversation between two women I’ve never met in person but have a tremendous amount of respect and admiration for. Truth be told, after what I saw her do at the Lifeway Women’s Leadership Forum last week, I do, indeed, want to be Beth Moore when I grow up! (More on that in a later post, I promise). Anyway, this:

They were, of course, talking about the topic that has gripped our collective attention: sexual abuse, and the case of this conversation, specifically, sexual abuse in Christ’s Church.

It was Jen’s tweet that caught my attention and held it for a long moment. And then, I realized something earth-shatteringly significant…

I was 5 or 6 the first time someone made a sexual comment about me. It was at church. I was wearing my favorite blue dress, and all I knew was that whatever that man said was bad, and that somehow I had done something wrong. From that day on, I was overly aware of my body and how it compared to every other girl’s body.

As I got older, I developed faster than most of my friends, and I was not ok with that! People continued to make comments in front of me about my body, and I began to hate it more and more.

When I was 12, the unthinkable happened, and the journey that experience sent me on was nothing short of a nightmare that lasted 20+ years. (Not to mention all the other times since then I was touched, leered at, and otherwise was the object of unwanted sexual attention…)

Physical sickness, depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts and attempts, a long-lasting addiction to pornography, a string of unhealthy relationships, and, I firmly believe, singleness, were the consequences of what that man did to me that Sunday afternoon at his house.

The other day, my mom asked if I thought I was finally healed. I told her, “I think I’m as healed as I can be at this point, but there’s probably more that will come up some day”. If you’ve been on a healing journey before, you likely know what I mean.

I read that exchange again and found myself smiling, giddy even, because in that moment, I realized that what man had meant for harm, God meant for good:

How does that even begin to make sense outside of the Gospel? How is it possible that God allowed that moment that nearly destroyed me all those years ago to give me yet more confirmation that He is calling me to a new season both professionally, and personally with Him? Seriously, what on earth?!?

But it does make sense. It makes sense in the shadow of that cross on which Jesus conquered sin and death forever. It makes sense in front of that empty tomb where Jesus declared eternal victory over evil and pain.

I am here to tell you something very, very important: God is still writing your story. He’s still holding the pen, so cling to Him with everything you’ve got. If you let Him, He will take you on a wild ride. Yes, it will be terrifying at times, and it will hurt so badly at other times, but He is good. He is faithful. He is all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-loving and everything He allows into your life is ultimately going to make you into who He has created you to be, to do what He has planned for you to do. Trust Him.

Trust Him today. Trust Him tomorrow. Trust Him when your world is falling apart. Trust Him when everything is perfect. Trust Him. Always. He will NEVER, EVER let you down.

Trust me. I know!

Are you in the middle of a healing journey? I would love to pray for you, mourn with you, and encourage you. Email me.