There always seems to be something haunting about hearing from someone that had hurt me as a young child throughout and until my early adult years. It's as if he has some way inside of me that triggers me to feel like that little girl unable to beat off a dirty old man on top of me as a child, and then succumb to his strength or abuse of powers because I was still just a child; although, now, I am an adult. I am a thirty-four year old woman, a mother to a beautiful little boy, and a child of God. If I keep the perspective of who I am in Christ, I have to remember to love others as I have been loved, forgive others because I have been forgiven much, and remember to submit my life under God's control.
High standards, huh?
I'd have to counter that thought with, "with God, I can do all things." None of God's promises have ever failed in my life. I have seen miracles happen--miracles like me having a baby when the doctors said my womb would be forever barren and the transformation in my life because I recognized God was that hope that never failed when I was in my darkest of valleys. I used to think hope stemmed from me holding onto glimmers of hope through my having kept the blank stare of my stuffed bunny rabbit named Suzy when my abuser did horrible and unspeakable things to me. I used to think that I was forsaken, and now I know none of those pains I have ever felt have been felt in vain. They are used for the glory I can bring God by telling others about how I can do all things because His Holy Spirit lives within me now.
When times get tough, I pray. I pray until the Spirit breaks down the walls I build up every moment of my day thinking I can do it by my own strength. That for sure, isn't true by any sorts of the means.
I cry at the feet of Jesus in complete and utter shame for feeling like the whore that my childhood abuser made me believe I was by reenacting what he wanted me to see through the porno flicks he showed me to "learn." I feel complete and utter shame still today, especially today, when the childhood abuser contacted me and then his wife called to tell me, yes, me to leave him alone. I feel like where does she get any right to tell me that. Why didn't she tell her husband to not do anything to me as she watched or bought me lingerie to wear for him. She used to tell me, "you are the daughter I never had," and then in the next sentence she'd tell me, "take care of him."
Or else what? That is probably what you are thinking.
Or else I would be physically beaten more, verbally degraded, or have a worse time of just letting him do to me what he wanted.
I was broken down to nothing then. This moment I felt an emptiness inside of me, and, yet, I know that is a false belief because who I am in Christ today. One of my favorite verses is 1 John 4:19, "I love because God first loved me." I may have not recognized His love in my earlier years, but today I can say it's been growing inside of me. Through that love, I have learned to begin loving myself, and have been given into rebirth into a new person because Christ's blood was shed for me and I recognize it.
So, after me having gotten off the trail into many a story, I am coming back to what stemmed from today's contact with my abuser. I was left a message by him stating he was served by the Sheriff the Peace Order for having stalked me and threatened me this past couple months. His wife then called to tell me to leave him alone. It stirred inside of me feelings of anger towards her, and it left me feeling the need to attack her and him for what they did to me. I wanted to tell the likes of them about how they were trusted by my parents to take care of me, not abuse me sexually or physically. I wanted to tell them that they were going to pay for what they did to me. I wanted to tell him that finally he is getting in trouble for what he did. I wanted him to pay for what he did. Then, something stopped me. It was either my conscious or the love I have from God that intervened, and I powered down my phone, sat on the comfiest of couches, and began trying to ground myself. I listened to a song called, "Lord Have Mercy." The song was about needing God to have mercy on a sinner's soul...just like me. I wanted God's mercy at that very moment. I wanted His grace to fall upon me and for God to take the bitterness out of my heart. I was called to give a message of love, and I was going to love myself and them right then and there.
I cried inside. I desired to feel comforted and assured that I was on the right track. I wanted to erase the memories of yesterday, and for me to just unload all that was inside of my head running around...spews of thoughts of anger, bitterness, love, and forgiveness or even the lack of forgiveness.
Last year in October, I had gotten in touch with Oscar (yes, that is the name of my sexual abuser and I am trying to humanize him inside of my thoughts so I will call him by his real first name, as I am comfortable with that much at least). In that twelve minute call, I told him that he had to have known that I had forgiven him because I kept on living. I felt the need to apologize to him for having left when he went to go to work and I fled with help of a friend and daughter plus a cab driver to take me away to a safe location.
The memories flood me now. I remember him coming into where I was working at the time, and him causing a scene in front of customers at the grocery store I had been working at and later was let go because of it. "Why don't you come home, Melissa. Melissa, don't you know I love you," are the trails of sentences he used to try and make me come back. My boss was notified and I was escorted in the back of where I worked to be calmed down and that is where I tried to be heard. However, the days following me having left my workplace were unbearably hard. I was scared he was going to come after me and shoot me. I was afraid and alone. I was no where near my own family. I didn't have true friends, but I still tried to seek help. I went to report what had been happening. They said I would have to do a rape kit and go to a domestic violence shelter. Inside of me emotionally, I felt like a child but on the outside I looked like the twenty-five years old woman having just gotten away from her abuser. I wasn't able to do that then. I did what I could do and right this moment I have to honor myself in trying to survive the best way I knew possible at that moment. I won't go into details of what I did. I did what I could to find my way back home.
This is where forgiveness comes in. I met a man whom seemed to allow me the space to be unattached. He allowed to love me in the way I knew "love" to be. We were trying to have a baby and I couldn't get pregnant. I was struggling at school, and I felt like the doctor I was seeing wasn't actually trying to get me pregnant so I took matters in my own hand. I tried several times a day to make a baby. My lover's father had passed away. Our relation was strained, and I was trying to hold onto any glimmer of hope for a healthy relationship. I found out he was seeking other relationships, and then I found out I was indeed pregnant November 22, 2004. I was happy as can be. I had an inclination I was pregnant, but the doctor said how could I be and it was impossible. I asked her to give me a blood test and check me, and she verified I was indeed pregnant. This was our first ultrasound of the baby.
The little embryo stopped developing, and it had no heartbeat so I later miscarried. I felt complete and utter despair at that moment. I thought how wicked could life be to allow someone who desired to have children take that itty bitty moment of happiness away from me with a blood bath pooled as I miscarried. I wrote the following poem that time.
Miscarriage
"On a scale of 1 to 10, how much pain are you feeling?"
How the Fuck can they think I am worried about me,
Especially since I am losing you?
A raging river of red flowing blood
Streams from my womb onto everything—
The gurney, my clothes, my corpse, and this God forsaken floor.
Screams of sadness and dismay muddles with mumbles,
Of heartache that rack over my broken heart.
I search Daddy's face only to see horror.
Does he know?
Mommy is no longer mommy.
She's left empty. Crying because you are gone.
The lifeblood drains out each ounce of happiness inside of her.
She knows what in reality has happened,
But she refuses to admit.
No doctor, nurse or physician needs to say;
Yet, Mommy still holds onto hope.
Then. Empty sonogram—no baby in sight.
Mommy definitely lost her baby...
Only I am left in sight. Everyone fades back in,
"Can you hear me?" the nurse nervously asks.
"On a scale of 1 to 10 how much pain are you in?"
Silence echoes the walls of her head, no answer.
After miscarrying, I decided to turn my life over to Christ's will. I prayed to God to give my life over to Him, and allow Him to direct my pathway in new view of His love for me. I signed up for a couple mission trips. I felt called to go on the mission field to love other people's children because I couldn't have any on my own. I was broken down but not defeated. When Mother's Day passed, I was relinquishing my desire to have children by my own might. I told Jesus I wanted to have a child. I sought forgiveness. I wasn't complete. Don't get me wrong, but I was trying my best to let my Lord rule over my life.
When I was pregnant, it was the first time in my life that I lived a healthier life. I didn't do anything that could detriment the health of the baby which grew inside of my body. I believed the baby was God sent. I believed the baby was meant to be, and when we had our first ultrasound the baby was thriving. We heard a trolloping heartbeat and saw the baby moving all around. Seeing this, I knew what happened in the miscarriage was tragic because it had never developed a heart. I had a high risk pregnancy, and most of what I did was go to doctor appointments and have home visits from high risk obstetric nurses. My son came into this world January 19, 2006 at 9:16 pm. We were released from the hospital due to some complications several days later, and there it began the journey of feeling the Lord move in and through my life.
This year I felt the Lord telling me to move, and I stepped out on faith to provide my son and I a healthier environment. Here I am not living a lie. I am on my pathway to a healthier state of mind and my son is finally able to say that he is, "so happy." I am getting help for the emotional scars left behind. My son is attending preschool. We're in a lot happier place of my life.
I feel I am finally in God's light, and daily I recognize to surrender my day at some point of the day. I pray the Serenity Prayer and give my Lord lots of things I am thankful for. You can see a change in my person. I am skinnier. I am happier. I am in a better place emotionally. I can say the same for my son. I'm learning to forgive myself and forgive others in my life. I find it tougher to accept forgiveness and kind words for myself, rather than give words of encouragement and forgiveness to others. And, getting back to Oscar, I found it empowering to give him forgiveness, but then when I experienced his and his wife's recent contact I was dismayed.
I felt dismay because if I had truly forgiven him how was it that I still felt a need to be mean or be angry, when I turned over my hurt, sadness, and bitterness I held towards him to God. And, when I had listened to the song, "Lord Have Mercy," I felt like the Spirit was speaking to my soul. I was convicted on how by my own strength I couldn't surrender that hurt and pain I had still felt, and that I wanted to not feel the bitterness and hate growing inside of me. I talked with a friend about what had happened, and she said that I was well on my to reaching my long term and short term goals. I felt good about her encouraging me. I also felt like I was able to release the tension inside of my heart. God blessed me with his mercies right then and there.
I prayed to God and surrendered my life to His control. I asked for forgiveness from God and believe He has done so. Today when I woke up. I read my daily encouraging verse, and it was, "Finally, all of you should be of one mind. Sympathize with each other. Love each other as brothers and sisters. Be tenderhearted, and keep a humble attitude," 1 Peter 3:8 NLT. Now tell me that isn't God trying to speak to me. So, I leave today with an open, tenderhearted heart, and humble attitude. With Christ's love, I can do all things.
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