How God Healed my Heart from Sexual Assault

Preface: 

Forgiveness receives what Jesus paid for and releases the one who owes a debt they can not pay. It erases that debt as "paid in full."

Forgiveness is an account settled in my heart- paid in full by Jesus' Name and His blood. Nobody owes me anything (not even an apology) because there is nothing to settle on a closed debtor's account.

What Forgiveness is not:

Forgiveness does not ignore what happened. 

It does not tolerate. 

It is not excusing the hurt or wrong. 

It is not forgetting or pretending. 

It is not reconciliation, not brushing the wrong under the "carpet" and never speaking of it.

I write this story to share the hope that is in Christ. "The Testimony of Jesus is the Spirit of Prophecy." Revelation 19:10 When others hear an account of what Christ has done, it prophecies into their hurt. "If Jesus did it for them, He will do it for me." That is how faith comes alive within hearts. I live a transparent life so that I can convince others of the goodness of God. Transparency is not always comfortable, but it is healing when spoken from a place of healing. 

This is my story-(please do not read it if you cannot receive it through the lens of "forgiveness" or creates triggers for which you need to seek help for.) This post is not written to "call out" the sin of those involved. Neither is it a "covering over" of those responsible. What I went through was not okay. It was not handled well by the church and those involved, and it does not excuse them. This is, however, a story of forgiveness and healing, not of offense and revealing wrongdoing.

Anna's Story:

I grew up in a modest and loving home. Both parents loved me, worked hard, and made home life comfortable. We did not have as much as some, but we had riches others did not. As a result, my childhood memories are pleasant ones; nostalgic enough to have replicated fond moments with my children- planting gardens, reading Narnia aloud, baking homemade bread, telling stories to foster imagination, watching "must-see" shows such as Anne of Green Gables, White Christmas, and I love Lucy, Little House on the Prairie and Little Women. In addition, we visited grandparents from both sides of the family- one side provided the comforting simplicity of country living, the other a vibrant kaleidoscope of Mexican culture.

We went to church weekly, receiving our church friends into our lives like family. I remember learning classic church songs like "Deep and Wide," "For the Bible tells me so," entering Bible Bee contests and VBSs, and attending Children's Bible camp in the mountains. I grew up running through the halls of empty church buildings, finding all the hidden nooks to hide in to swap stories and gossip with my besties…they were good times.

As I entered my teen years, my shy nature began to thaw, and I began to explore expression. I loved being in youth group and hanging out with some of the best group of kids I had ever had the honor of knowing. They made life beautiful. Many days and nights, we fostered a love for God within each other; dreaming of our future lives and families- all rooted in a love for God. That was a constant theme throughout my life- a scarlet thread that ran through my earliest memories- Jesus was always there, calling my name.

My eighteenth year was the year that would forever mark my life. As I began to babysit children, one family became closer to me than the others in that season. I was accepted and welcomed into their home as their young friend. As our friendship grew and I began to spend more time with them, I was ignorant and oblivious of clues to watch for, having never even dated before. I found myself in situations that grew increasingly uncomfortable but puzzling as I juggled trust and discernment. I felt flattered that I was accepted, but I could not conceive that a married man was developing feelings for a teenager who wasn't his wife. Yet I could not help feeling that the husband made me feel accepted - like an "older brother" trust.

So, I was blindsided by the assault when it happened a few days after I turned eighteen. I felt violated and stripped of personal power, yet the investment in friendship kept me silent. I loved his family, and the thought of his wife discovering what her husband did to me and that it was ME who was responsible frightened me. I was afraid to tell anyone because this tarnished me- I felt used, and all of the purity and innocence were robbed. My silence fueled the abusive behavior, and It also fueled the enemy's lies.

The peace and love I had always felt were replaced with fear and torment. I heard voices that spoke to me of shame and accusation. The agony led me to consider suicide. Three times, I failed at ending my life; each time, miraculous interventions. It was as if angels were standing in the way to keep it from happening.

The night I finally could take no more and told my Dad what had been happening, I had spent the day tormented by shame. That day, the final time I contemplated taking my life, I had a prophetic picture of a family flash through my mind; a family full of love and life- they loved me. I had a husband who loved me and all the present pain was a distant memory. I fell to the floor, sobbing for the hope of what could be.

It was a dark night, forever seared in my mind; Devastation and chaos and betrayal. I was asked to be there to bring the truth out to the open as church leaders confronted him. All I really remember was the relief mixed with horrible anguish.

I will not give much detail concerning how things were handled within the church, except to say that I have gone back in my memory a few times and mentally held that young, innocent girl and told her that it was not her fault. What she was asked to do and the accusations she was asked to listen to and apologize for were wrong, and she should not have been told to endure that. She was a victim, and victims are not to blame. As an adult, knowing the Anna I was then, I have loved on her as she should have been loved - which only two people did for me. One held me like a little girl and rocked me until the tears were spent and spoke love over me. The other fiercely took my face in her hands and told me never to let what happened define me. Thank you to those two who did what was right.

I left my hometown not long after that. I moved to San Antonio to start my life again. Within the first few months of living in a new city, I joined a missions trip to the indigenous tribes in the mountains of Mexico. As I was living in dusty conditions, sitting with the precious women, learning to make tortillas over an open fire, and contemplating the simple joy amid poverty, God was at work within me.

I had gone to lose myself; God sent me to show me who I was.

One morning, as we gathered for mandatory prayer time with the other missionaries, someone led the devotions and read:

"And he came to a certain place and stayed there that night because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of the place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place to sleep. And he dreamed, and behold, there was a ladder set up on the earth, and the top of it reached to heaven. And behold, the angels of God were ascending and descending on it! …So early in the morning, Jacob took the stone that he had put under his head and set it up for a pillar, and poured oil on the top of it. He called the name of that place Bethel…" Genesis 28: 11, 12, 19

The moment he read the scripture, I felt, what I could only explain as, the pressure of a large thumb pressing on my head and squeezing out ALL of what had haunted me. In one moment, the pain was gone!

In hindsight, as I have studied this verse, I see what God had done for me. Fleeing from his brother over a wrong he had done, Jacob dreamed of a ladder with angels ascending and descending. In the book of John, Jesus references this ladder speaking of himself. Jesus is the ladder that brings the reality of heaven to earth by placing His spirit within believers- He puts his home within us- the temples of the living God. Bethel means "House of God." In that moment of healing, God supernaturally removed what did not belong in the house of God. Trauma does not befit the house of God. Abuse does not belong in the house of God. Pain does not befit the house of God. God wanted me to be free of the things the enemy tried to take up residence over. He removed the trauma and the torment. I was free!

He who the Son sets free is free indeed.

I have never lived a moment of torment since then. I have never lived in unforgiveness, either. I once was in the same room with the person who assaulted me. When I saw him, that was the moment I knew I was healed. I harbored no anger- only good. I released all involved to be the best God had created them to be. I was going to be the best God had created me to be. That part took me longer to figure out (another story), but I would never hold what happened against anybody involved. Even if involved by association- all were forgiven in my heart.

My healing is a testimony of what is available to any who receives the healing Jesus paid for- spirit, soul and body.

Will you receive it? He wants you free.