Category: The Value of Women

on • Marilette Sanchez

It wasn’t just impossible; it was laughable.

Jesus and his disciples needed to feed a crowd of nearly 5,000 men plus women and children. Jesus asked Philip, “Where are we to buy bread so that these people may eat?” (John 6:5) But, of course, Jesus is God, and he didn’t need the answer.

He asked Philip anyway. And Philip dared to sarcastically talk back to the Creator, reminding Jesus that it would take more than half a year’s wages to fund such an endeavor. From there on, Jesus didn’t even attempt to explain himself to Philip. He just showed him instead.

During this season of transitioning from three to four kids, I’ve felt like Philip: annoyed, even angry at God that He would expect me to do something so impossible.

It honestly isn’t even the “being a mom” part. As hard as it is to live in a perpetually cluttered space, I love rising to the parenting challenges in New York City. I love catching those moments where my kids are actually hugging each other or dancing together instead of bickering. However, since my youngest was born, I’ve procrastinated multiple times on writing. Writing takes emotional strength. After spending all day with young kids, I often feel like I have nothing left to give of myself in writing.

God has been revealing that I get frustrated and overwhelmed because I place unrealistic expectations on myself that He never puts on me.

When my inner critic calls me a mediocre homemaker, God tells me I don’t need to cook a different home-cooked meal every night, nor do I need to keep the house clutter-free.

When my inner critic calls me a mediocre blogger, God reminds me that many bloggers whom I compare myself to have teams behind them helping them to post daily.

For the past six months, I’ve been trying to write in my power, not out of an overflow of my relationship with God. And to no surprise, I come up short every time.

When my inner critic calls me a mediocre blogger, God reminds me that many bloggers whom I compare myself to have teams behind them helping them to post daily. For the past six months, I’ve been trying to write in my power, not out of an overflow of my relationship with God. And again, to no surprise, I come up short every time.

After Philip reminds Jesus of the hopelessness of the situation of feeding the crowd, Jesus ignores his comment and essentially asks his other disciples, “Well, what do you have?”  Another disciple, Andrew, replies, “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish, but what are they for so many?”

God reminds me that when it is time to write something, the Holy Spirit will take over and give me what I need. He tells me that He will be faithful to renew my strength and give me the rest I need to deal with another day of dealing with the chaos of raising four young kids. God is faithful to use my “barley loaves and two fish” and, in His power, multiply it into something much more than I could have ever mustered up on my own.

May God do the same with you as you walk forward in his strength!

*For further reflection, listen to John 6.

  1. John 6

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on • Sharon Jaynes

I grew up with the niggling feeling that God valued men more highly than women. And to be honest, what I heard in church only seemed to confirm my suspicions. Finally, I asked God to show me what He really thinks about women. 

So, I listened.

In my mind’s eye, I watched how Jesus interacted with women in the gospels. But, rather than looking from a twenty-first century point of view, I looked through the lens of Jesus’ culture when He walked the earth.

When Jesus made His first cry in Bethlehem, Jewish women were not allowed to talk to men in public—even their husbands. They were not allowed to eat in the same room with a gathering of men, to be educated on the Torah (the Scripture) with men, or enter the inner court of the temple to worship with men.

They sat behind partitions and could listen, but were not expected to learn.

A woman was considered the property of her father. That ownership was passed to her husband when she married and to her son when she was widowed. Women were not counted as people, thus the feeding of the 5,000 and 4,000 men with women not included in the number. They were seen as unreliable witnesses and not allowed to testify in court.

But then Jesus stepped into the story. And Jesus, God-made-man, broke a man-made rule every single time he interacted with a woman in the New Testament.

  • He encouraged the woman healed from the twelve-year flow to testify to the crowd about what had happened rather than letting her slip away unnoticed.
  • He welcomed Mary of Bethany into the classroom full of men to sit under His teaching.
  • He talked publicly with the Samaritan woman by the well, and for the first time, Jesus announced to her that he was the Messiah.
  • His longest recorded conversation was with a woman.
  • He welcomed both the sinful woman’s worship of tears and Mary’s anointing with oil—each was at a men’s only gathering.
  • He called the woman with the crippled back from the shadows of the women’s section of the synagogue to come up front for healing.
  • He invited Mary Magdalene and other women to join his ministry team.
  • He commissioned Mary Magdalene to go and tell the disciples of his resurrection.

Yes, Jesus entrusted the most important message in all human history to a woman and then instructed her to “go and tell.”

Jesus took the fearful and forgotten and transformed them into the faithful, forever remembered.

Oh, sweet sister, on this International Women’s Day, never doubt how your Heavenly Father values and esteems you—the grand finale of all creation and a co-heir with Christ.

*For further reflection, listen to Mark 5.

  1. Mark 5

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Listen here  to our conversation to learn more from Sharon Jaynes on each Biblical woman’s story in our encouraging conversation!

on • Alice Fryling

When I turned 50, I said to myself, “I am not THAT old.” When I turned 60, my friends told me, “Sixty is the new forty.” Finally, when I turned 70, I admitted, “Seventy is THAT old!”

Now I am almost a decade older. I’ve written a book on aging. But I am still surprised by the experience of getting older.

My soul is growing as my body is aging.

To grow means to change. Paul wrote, “Instead, let the Spirit renew your thoughts and attitudes.” (Ephesians 4:23). As we age, we are invited to allow the Holy Spirit to change the thoughts and attitudes we have held for decades. Some perspectives and spiritual disciplines that helped me when I was younger are no longer life-giving.

As my body ages, I have less energy and fewer opportunities. The Holy Spirit is changing my expectations and priorities.

I need to unlearn some of the things that I used to believe.

I used to feel responsible for many things. Now that I can do less, God is inviting me to think about my days in terms of fruitfulness rather than productivity.

The list of the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5:22–23 reminds me that it is more important to love others than to finish my “to-do” list.

I want to focus on the invitations God gives in my losses.

Jesus said,“Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” (Luke 6:20). When I was younger, I had important jobs to do and places where I found significance. Now I am losing some of that sense of importance. Some days my spirit feels “poor” about all I have lost.

Jesus promises I will experience the Kingdom of God even as I experience this part of aging.

He said God’s Kingdom is like “a farmer who scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, while he’s asleep or awake, the seed sprouts and grows, but he does not understand how it happens.” (Mark 4:26-27)

What a comfort this is! I can toss seeds on the ground (when I have the energy!) and then go to bed. I don’t understand it, but whether I am asleep or awake, the seeds are growing.

I thank God for the fruit of this season of life.

*For deeper reflection, listen to Ephesians 4 today.

  1. Ephesians 4

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on • Ashley Morgan Jackson

I picked up my phone off the nightstand that morning and opened it with dread. I felt anxiety fill my body. On social media, I knew what I would find: other people enjoying their lives while I cried about mine.

Life felt so unfair. Hot tears filled my eyes, and I immediately tried to blink them back while I whispered a desperate prayer, “Lord, am I going to feel like this forever?”

As I poured my coffee, I made a mental list of what I felt like I could no longer handle.

For starters, I battled relentlessly with my mental health. And I also juggled two kids under five, my husband’s unforeseen job loss, the sudden passing of my father-in-law, and ongoing financial pressures, just to name a few.

I saw no relief in sight. It was hard not to feel frustrated, fed-up, and maybe even a little forgotten by God.

My soul was exhausted, and I was tired of trying. It seemed I had prayed every prayer I knew how to pray and read every Scripture I knew that pertained to my circumstances. Yet, nothing seemed to change.

Maybe you know this season all too well. Maybe you’ve been hurting so deeply and for so long. Maybe you expected to handle this better and to be stronger when everything came crashing down.

But it’s okay that you’re feeling weak and unsure. God wants us to let go of trying to figure it all out, and let him do what he does best—save us.

When God commanded Moses to save his people from their slavery in Egypt, they never expected their journey to freedom to take so long or be so very hard.

But God had not taken them to the wilderness to simply punish them. Instead, he brought them there to both teach them dependence on him and bring them to the good land he had prepared for them.

In Jeremiah 31:2-3, we see the Lord say in reference to that time, “‘This is what the Lord says: ‘Those who survive the coming destruction will find blessings even in the barren land, for I will give rest to the people of Israel…I have loved you, my people, with an everlasting love. With unfailing love, I have drawn you to myself.'”

God hears your cries for deliverance, and he has grace for you in your wilderness.

I continued to walk through my own wilderness. I realized God was using those things I thought were breaking me to make me more like Jesus.

I felt exhausted because I believed it was all up to me.

When I chose to trust him to hold my broken heart and receive his grace, he began to reveal the good plans he had all along.

Friend, will you dare to remember the heart of God when it is hard to understand why he is not fixing your most hurtful seasons?

Will you trust that, like the Israelites, you, too will find grace in our wilderness? Will you cling to the truth that he has rest for your worn-out souls and that he will never stop loving you?

Regardless of how you feel, you can stand in confidence that God will continue to be faithful.

Dear Lord, Thank you that you hear my prayers when my life feels like it is too much, and I am desperate for solutions. I pray you would help me to hold onto you in faith. Cause me to stand on the truth of who I know you to be; a good, faithful and loving Father. Thank you that you always have my best in mind. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

*For further reflection, listen to Jeremiah 31 today.

  1. Jeremiah 39

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Enjoy further insights with Ashley Morgan Jackson in our interview with her here.

on • Nona Jones

People’s experience of you is not who you are.

Many people think comparison causes insecurity, which is why many self-help and self-esteem books try to use positive affirmations to help you stop comparing yourself with others. But affirmations don’t work long-term because they don’t address the root of the problem.

Comparison does not cause insecurity; comparison results from insecurity.

Insecurity causes comparison because when our identity is secured to the unstable, ever-changing opinions of others, we think the only way to increase our value is to become whatever they think we should be.

  • Your mother says, “Your sister always does so well in math. Why are you struggling?” You respond by setting your sister’s performance in math as the benchmark for academic success.
  • Your friend says, “Maybe more squats will make your legs more toned like Barbara’s.” You respond by setting Barbara’s muscular legs as the benchmark for fitness success.
  • Your husband says, “Your mother takes such great care of your father. She irons his clothes and always has a hot meal ready.” You respond by setting your mother as the benchmark for being a good wife.

You begin to secure aspects of your identity based on the good things people say about others and then measure how far you are from their standard.

To please your mother, friend, husband, and manager, you give their voices credibility in your heart. You believe what they say and compare yourself to the ideal person in hopes of being more like them.

God, on the other hand, says this:

  • [You are] fearfully and wonderfully made. (Psalm 139:14)
  • Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart. (Jeremiah 1:5)
  • People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. (1 Samuel 16:7)

God says all this without the qualifier of comparison, which raises the question, “Which voice will we believe?”

The voices of other human beings or the voice of God?

Insecurity emerges when we believe the voices that diminish our value in comparison to others. Security and insecurity both begin with the voice we choose to believe.

The voice we believe becomes the voice we obey—whether people’s voice or God’s voice—and the voice to which we ultimately secure our identity.

*For further reflection, listen to Psalm 139 today.

  1. Psalm 139

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Taken from Killing Comparison by Nona Jones. Copyright © September 27, 2022 by Nona Jones. Used by permission of Zondervan.com.

on • Amy Boucher Pye

As a hospice nurse, my sister Beth cares for people at the end of their lives, ministering God’s grace as she tends to their bodily needs, shows care and empathy, and manages their pain.

In contrast, I couldn’t enter the nursing profession—for one thing, I don’t have Beth’s patience. Nor would Beth want to speak to groups of people about God’s love, like I enjoy doing.

We may be different, but we love each other. My sister is also my friend.

Probably the best-known sisters in the Bible also exemplify a loving friendship—Martha and Mary. Today they’ve been turned into types: “Are you a Martha or a Mary?” (Luke 10.) 

But as we read their three gospel accounts (also John 11 and 12), we understand that they are fully orbed characters—women who love and grieve and question and serve.

They support each other, and their friendship with Jesus transforms them. For instance, consider how Martha lovingly calls Mary to their friend Jesus after their brother dies, and how Jesus responds.

As background, Jesus delayed coming to the sisters after they sent word that their brother was sick. We know now that he did so to bring glory to God, demonstrating that he is the resurrection and the life by raising Lazarus from the dead (John 11:43). But the sisters, as they wait for Jesus, feel betrayed and unseen by the One who loves them.

Forthright Martha, when she hears that Jesus has arrived outside the village, rushes to meet him. Through conversation he calls her out of her grief, affirming her statement of faith that he is the Messiah.

Martha then returns home to her grieving sister, who seems to have lost all hope. Drawing Mary aside from the other mourners, she gently shares that Jesus asks after her.

She’s deeply concerned for her, longing for her younger sister to enjoy the love that she’s received from Jesus.

Mary goes to him at once, throwing herself at his feet as she releases her deep sorrow over the death of her brother. And Jesus shares her grief in the shortest sentence in the Bible: “Jesus weeps” (John 11:35).

He then moves to the grave, where he raises Lazarus from the dead—an extreme act of love and restoration. In doing so, he fuels the anger of the religious leaders, who want him eliminated.

Jesus loves both the sisters and ministers to them differently in their grief. Just as he loves each of us individually, caring for us in the ways we need most.

I hope you can believe that Jesus will meet you where you are today, whatever your needs. Know that you can come to him with your most heart-wrenching statements, as the sisters did: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21).

You can dialog with him as Martha did (John 11:21–27). You can shower him with love like Mary did when she anointed him with pure nard (John 12:3).

In all the moments of your day, Jesus wants to be your friend.

As you consider your friendship with God, you might also want to ponder any sibling relationships you have. How could you pray for your sister or brother—or a beloved cousin or friend?

Jesus, as he pours out his love on you, might also want to love someone through you today. Know that he delights in you and will never leave you.

He will be your best friend.

*For further reflection, listen to John 11.

  1. John 11

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Adapted from Transforming Love: How Friendship with Jesus Changes Us (Our Daily Bread Publishing, 2023).

on • Natasha Smith

God understands what it means to feel alone. Mark writes this about Jesus, “Then everyone deserted him and fled” (Mark 14:48–50).

It’s kind of hard to believe this verse. At first, I read it and wondered, Is Mark talking about Jesus?

The one who died for us—that Jesus?

But yes, it was Jesus who was grieving. He knew that he was about to go to the Cross.

And yet everyone deserted him.

Jesus experienced one of the deepest grief moments of his human life, and those closest to him deserted him. They abandoned him, left him, let him down, and didn’t come through.

Abandonment and desertion can crush the spirit and be traumatic experiences themselves. But this happened to Jesus; everyone deserted him.

My mom used to say, “If it happened to Jesus, we are no better than him. So it could happen to us.”

True, but thanks be to God, Jesus has already walked in all our shoes to truly understand what we feel, sense, and struggle through.

And the best part is that he knows how to help us, heal us, comfort us, and give us peace.

Further, in understanding how God understands our grief, the prophet Isaiah prophesied this of Jesus, “He was despised and rejected—a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3).

God, in the bodily form of Jesus, bore our sorrow, our grief, and our pain on the Cross. Not that we wouldn’t experience them, but instead he would know how to comfort us. Knowing someone knows what you are going through provides a sense of comfort all by itself.

It comforts us when we meet someone with a similar shared experience. It excites us even. I become super excited when I find out someone is creative or loves art because I am a low-key art fan. I have been since I was single digits.

And it is the same with our grief. Think about it, how relieved would you become if you met someone who had experienced—even remotely—what you have or even slightly understood your grief? Wouldn’t it make you feel less alone?

I know it would make me feel better. Well, guess what? God knows fully what you are experiencing or have experienced in the past, and he understands.

In his humanity, Jesus even wept.

Lazarus, a dear friend of Jesus’s, was sick. Jesus heard this news, and instead of going to see him, he remained where he was for a few more days. And Lazarus died.

Before leaving for Bethany, Jesus was already aware of the fact that Lazarus had died. He told his disciples that Lazarus was instead sleeping, but he would go to wake him. When Jesus arrived, Martha confronted him, saying that if he had been there, her brother would not have died.

As described by John, Jesus was “deeply troubled” (John 11:33). Then the story goes on to say, “Jesus wept” (John 11:35).

Jesus seems to embody the words of Paul, who wrote, “Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15). Jesus saw their grief, and he had compassion for them. He grieved with them.

In fact, when Jesus heard about the death of John the Baptist, he also grieved. John was Jesus’s cousin. We first hear of this relationship when Jesus’s mother, Mary, went to see her cousin Elizabeth. They were both pregnant. There was already a kindred connection between Jesus and John while they were still in their mothers’ wombs.

Then this same John later prepares the way for Jesus. In the end, John becomes a martyr in the name of Jesus.

So, when Jesus hears about the death of John the Baptist, Matthew wrote, he “left in a boat to a remote area to be alone” (Matthew 14:13).

Jesus took time to grieve and honor John the Baptist.

I think as believers, we often forget this. Maybe we think about how strong and powerful God is; we think about how nothing moves God or hurts God.

I believe we forget how God became flesh and felt every single thing that happened to him. When people hear of your loss and immediately say, “I can’t imagine.” know that Jesus can imagine and knows your pain.

In the same way that people would become much more thoughtful and compassionate by trying to put themselves where you are, if we were to put ourselves in Jesus’ shoes (I know, big shoes to fill), we would have such a better perspective.

A better view. A lens of what it may have felt like while Jesus was praying in the garden. We would have a better understanding of the loving way Jesus understands us. Just as Jesus grieved, he understands that all people grieve, and he understands your grief. As he felt alone, he understands how you feel alone. He knew and he knows.

He knew one day you and I would grieve, and so God made a way for us to come to him for comfort and to obtain peace, simply through the name of Jesus.

So, no matter where you find yourself right now in your grief journey, God is asking, “Can you just sit with me?”

For further reflection, listen to Mark 14.

  1. Mark 14

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*Adapted from Can You Just Sit with Me? by Natasha Smith. ©2023 by Natasha Smith. Used by permission of InterVarsity Press. www.ivpress.com.

on • Dr. Jessica Peck

Are you harassed and helpless, distressed and dispirited, feeling alone in your struggles as if no one sees you? You may feel alone, but God will never leave you or forsake you.

In the book of Genesis, we find an Egyptian slave woman named Hagar alone, broken, insignificant, and rejected. Hagar, whose name means one who fears, is a socially marginalized woman with no control over her life circumstances.

As she sits alone and desperate in the wilderness, we encounter an extraordinary moment in Scripture. An angel of the Lord finds Hagar and calls her by name, something her mistress had refused to do and tells Hagar the Lord has heard her affliction.

In response, she calls God by the name El Roi, meaning the “God Who Sees Me.” The angel instructs her to return and submit to her mistress. Her circumstances won’t change, but the strength and perspective with which she faces them will be different.

Every character in Hagar’s story experienced their own fears, doubts, insecurities, and injustices along a broken road, lost like sheep. The original Hebrew word Roi’iy means “shepherd,” “seeing,” “looking,” or “gazing.”

When you feel vulnerable and alone, you can find hope and comfort in the “God Who Sees Me.” Take comfort in the fact your compassionate Good Shepherd is always looking for you.

Even when you feel desperately isolated, God promises that you are never alone.

Reflect:

1. In the seasons of life where you feel alone, how can you look back at your story and see ways God has met you along the way to find you and bring you encouragement?
2. How can you find a friend struggling through a season of loneliness in the wilderness and offer companionship and encouragement?
3. How can you find tangible hope in the God Who Sees You?

Pray:

God, my soul is troubled. I am weary with argument and conversation, and my bed at night swims with the tears of my distress. I worry. I see hurt. I feel alone. My eyes waste away with grief as conflict makes me weary. I know You hear my voice lifted in desperate prayer. Give me faith in times of distress. I ask for mercy in the midst of pain. Bring healing where there is conflict. Pour over me Your unfailing love. I know You accept my prayer. I ask You to walk with me daily, putting people in my path who will speak encouragement and the words of life delivered straight from Your heart to mine, with confident affirmation to remind me I am never truly alone. Amen.

*For further reflection, listen to (Psalm 6).

  1. Psalm 6

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Adapted from Behind Closed Doors: A Guide to Help Parents and Teens Navigate Through Life’s Toughest Issues (W Publishing Group, a division of HarperCollins Christian Publishing).

on • Natasha Sistrunk Robinson

“Truth is, Women are the Unsung Heroes of This World.”

As we celebrate International Women’s Day, I reflect on the role women have played in my own spiritual formation. By and large, women have been the agents of grace in my life teaching me how to live, grow, stand tall, pray, take God at his Word, worship, praise, and, perhaps most importantly, laugh out loud.

Moses, who led the children of Israel out of Egypt was also influenced by women. In fact, the Exodus story began with two women rescuers: the Hebrew midwives, Shiphrah and Puah. When Pharaoh ordered the midwives to kill all the Hebrew boys, they refused. They rejected the murderous plan of the empire because they feared God more than the king (Exodus 1:15-21).

It was a significant risk to defy Pharaoh, and by doing so, these women saved vulnerable lives while looking death, danger, and darkness in the face. That was the first time women saved Moses’ life.

Next, Pharaoh ordered that all the Hebrew infant boys be thrown into the Nile while the girls would be spared (Exodus 1:22). The Nile River was a symbol of life to the Egyptians, but it offered a grave reminder to the Hebrews that their boys had no right to live. This genocide plot caused Moses’ mother to spring into action to save her son’s life.

Then Pharaoh’s daughter rescued Moses when she drew him out of the water. When she opened the basket, she immediately noticed that it was a Hebrew baby—but she did not mention that he was a boy.

Perhaps before Pharaoh’s daughter even saw the baby’s gender, Miriam jumped in to ask, “Should I go and find one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?” she asked.

“Yes, do!” the princess replied. So the girl went and called the baby’s mother. “Take this baby and nurse him for me,” the princess told the baby’s mother. “I will pay you for your help.” So the woman took her baby home and nursed him (Exodus 2:7-9)

So baby Moses’ life was thrice saved from death: by the wisdom and courage of the midwives, by his mother’s plan, and by Pharaoh’s daughter’s compassion.

Without the leadership and obedience of the women in his life,  God’s plan for Moses would have been aborted. God’s grace was consistently revealed in Moses’ life through the presence of wise, faithful, and risk-taking women.When I think about my own life and how I have become a leader, it is impossible to separate my story from the women who have shaped me. Like Moses, my life has been saved by the sacrifices, contributions, and faithful obedience of women.

But the strong female influences in my early life were not due to the absence of faithful black men in my community. There were simply more women in my biological family. This is how women have consistently showed up to save my life, and I don’t know where I would be without them.

And women are the unsung heroes of Moses’ story. These women were leaders who served as God’s grace and protection for Moses to ensure that he would rise as a leader among his people to fulfil the purpose God had for his life.

God’s saving grace to all of us is often revealed through the bosoms, the hands, the teaching, the correction, the unconditional love, the sacrifices, the laughter, the truth telling and the risks of faithful women.

We must not forget to regularly acknowledge their leadership and thank God for them.

*For further reflection, listen to Exodus 1.

  1. Exodus 1

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Enjoy our conversation with Natasha here!

Adapted from “A Sojourner’s Truth” by Natasha Sistrunk Robinson. Copyright (c) 2018 by Natasha Sistrunk Robinson.

on • Moeapulu Frances Tagaloa

I know I don’t look Samoan. My mother is of Greymouth (Irish descent), and my father is Samoan from Fusi, Safata. My parents were very involved in our church and the community, and these pressures started to affect my dad. He began drinking heavily. Eventually, his chronic drinking caught up with him, and he ended up going to prison for something he did while intoxicated.

While in detox, my father re-dedicated his life to Christ. After prison, he wanted to help others dealing with alcohol and addiction, so my family moved to Taranaki to live at an Alcohol and Drug Rehabilitation Center, which my dad and mum managed. One day while visiting a church, I heard the pastor talk about how much God loved me. He said God loved me unconditionally, no matter what I did (Romans 5:8).

The fact that God could love me so much was a new revelation. I didn’t love myself. (In fact, I hated everything about me.) But I wanted to know this God who loved me so much, so I accepted Jesus into my life and experienced that amazing forgiveness that Jesus offered me.

But coming to know Jesus personally didn’t mean everything was perfect. As my relationship with God grew during university, I started having frightening flashbacks and nightmares.

I then began remembering multiple experiences of abuse by a clergy member as a young girl. It was very traumatic. With great difficulty, I told a friend on staff with Campus Crusade for Christ (now Student Life) at my university all I had endured. I hadn’t told anyone else before her,so disclosing this to her relieved a heavy burden. She was so patient and caring and encouraged me to get counseling.

As a part of that counseling and ongoing healing, I began to accept that this abuse actually happened. I then forgave my abuser and then my father and mother, who were not there to protect me.

I discovered that forgiving was not accepting the abusive behavior nor condoning the abuser’s actions. Instead, forgiveness was a process that allowed my hurt to be in my past and not in my future.

The abuse I suffered deeply impacted me. For years, the shame, fear, anger, and pain of abuse created crippling hurdles in my life. Trusting others wasn’t easy, and I needed to overcome my quick skepticism of people’s motives.

Still, knowing that the God of the universe loves me and accepts me has given me the confidence to live out his strong sense of purpose in my life. I’ve also seen how Jesus beautifully healed my relationships and my family.

I want to encourage survivors of abuse and others battling an addiction that Jesus gives freedom, hope, and healing. Dealing with trauma and addiction is complex, and healing recovery takes time—but Jesus does heal (Psalm 147:3).

The longer I live, the more I see how God has been writing a great story in my life.

I can also see how God has transformed a life shaped by shame into a life full of freedom. He can do the same for you!

*For further reflection, listen to (Psalm 147 today.

  1. Psalm 147

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