As a child I laughed and talked and sang and danced until
I was given a reason to cry and told that I couldn’t.
I longed to tell and I longed to die.
As a child my body was groped and touched and used in ways
that no child should ever have to endure.
I was afraid to tell and hated what my body felt.
As a child my heart was betrayed and became infected
with self-contempt and covered with scabs of shame.
I learned to play a game to hide my pain.
As a child I refused to feel the pain and fear
and the smoldering rage deep within.
I starved, binged, smiled, and swallowed the tears I could not cry.
As a child my memories were like shards of glass and had a life of their own,
so I taught myself to keep them at bay.
I pursued perfection in the light and worked through long, sleepless nights.
As a child my voice was silenced and my cries unheard,
so I spoke a new language and tried to gain some control.
Unknowingly, I set out to destroy the object of my abuse.
My God is love—He stepped in and drew me to Himself and
stirred my heart and coaxed me to find my voice.
He told me it was time to tell.
My God is Shelter—He provided someone with courage to hear,
compassion to cry the tears I held inside when I brought my life to the Light.
I knew at last what it felt like to be safe.
My God is compassion—He understands the pain of what I endured
for He was with me, gently calling me to Himself.
He gets it for He endured the horror of the cross as He bore my shame.
My God is wise—He uses brilliantly orchestrated plans to mend my heart and
then holds me close as I weep both tears of joy and tears of pain.
It feels so good to feel for I now know what it feels like to be alive!
My God is gracious—He forgave me for my self-destructive ways and taught me
how to forgive the unforgivable acts that were done to me as a child.
I am learning to treasure and to give such sweet grace.
My God is courage—He helped me face fear, giving me the courage to tell.
He helped me face the disorder, giving me the courage to feel.
He helped me face my rage, giving me the courage to forgive.
My God is good—I screamed the question buried so deep inside:
“How could He restrain His wrath against abuse?”
He gently reminded me of His own abuse, and of the love in which I abide.
My God is patient—He used it to help me grow a heart like His, to hear what others won’t hear,
to see what others miss, and to love others wounded by abuse.
I have learned that sacrificial love has a price.
My God is all-powerful—Though Satan tried to destroy the heart of a child,
the heart that was mine, my God kept it intact.
I entrusted my heart to Him who is the One who heals.
My God knows my name—I will never again hang my head in shame,
speak too softly to be heard, or believe the lies that Satan speaks.
I learned I am not in bondage to my past.
I was hurt,
but I survived
to sing and dance
and praise His Name.