Note: This post is part of the Idea Camp’s exploration of sexual abuse. It happened so long ago. Nearly forty years now. The picture at the top of this post is me, aged five. The year the boys came and took me away. Stole a year of my life. In ravines. Under...
Yesterday on my run, the song “Cedars of Lebanon” by U2 came up. The last stanza stunned me. It’s taken me a day to digest it, but I believe there’s deep truth for the victims of sexual abuse hidden there. The lyrics: Choose your enemies...
This is a hard post to write and admit to. But it’s true. You’d think that someone who was a victim of abuse would shun that victimhood status the moment she realized it, flinging it as far as the East is from the West. Nope. I coddled it. Nursed it. Loved...
In no particular order, here are ten things I’ve dealt with in the aftermath of being raped as a five-year-old: I have believed I have no worth, other than to be used for someone else’s pleasure. I’m thankful this has faded quite a bit, and Jesus has...
This came from a reader recently: A thought for your blog sometime… I would be really interested in hearing you talk more about this idea that those who are abused are”marked.” I read about this and believe that it’s true, but I’d like to...