I was called disrespectful.
I was called untrue.
I was called untrustworthy.
I was called a manipulator.
I was accused of being a seducer.
I was accused of being an adulterer.
I was said to have no friends and said I’d have many problems in the future.
I was accused of being a helpless victim.
I was verbally flogged.
Each word hurt more than the next
“You’re undermining me”, “You’re Judas to me.” The painful words flowed as each one ripped into my deeper into my heart and soul.
I am not perfect, but I meant no Ill will. I repeated to myself.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” was my echo trying to figure out why I couldn’t keep it together anymore.
Everything was unraveling… I’ve failed… I’ve corrupted all of this… Maybe I am cursed… Maybe I will always end up in these situations… Maybe this is why I’m not married… Maybe all these problems are because of me…
I questioned myself over and over and over again… I’ve failed… How could I not have prevented this? How could I not see myself as all these things? “You are wicked” I condemned myself… as I was being condemned…
Such hopeless days… I spent more days in tears than with a smile…
When life as I knew it was falling apart… I was being held… So close was His touch, his heartbeat, his whisper…
“This is not your battle… Let me handle it…”
Be still… Stay silent…
Don’t retaliate… Don’t talk back… So, I held my tongue…
Accusations still flew… Lies spoken over me… Physical reactions became undoubtably noticeable…
Be still.. Stay silent…
I cried night after night…
Be still, stay silent…
I packed up my life… Tears pouring out of my eyes… no clear direction to be seen…
Be still, Stay silent…
Friends started calling… Be still stay silent…
Until a call… A safe place for me to share my story… Stay still… BE honest…
I cried and nearly trembled as I shared … recounting the stories… Watching the dismay on the man’s face… I couldn’t read it… Maybe he thought I was making this up… My emotions had no where else to go… I felt torn apart… so vulnerable no longer knowing how to protect myself.
I finished and waited for his response…
“You did nothing wrong… I hope you walk out of here with your head held high…”
Words can pierce so deeply and heal profoundly… the same area damaged by the reckless words of an unstable person, began mending through a stable, faithful, kind man…
Words can tear apart a soul. Words can mend a soul. It can filet a heart beyond recognition , and yet somehow make it stronger than ever before. The deeper the wound, the greater capacity for compassion…
To the one who broke me— I don’t ever wish to see or hear again… But I am grateful for all the damage… because through it… I learned to be still to be silent and hear the One whose words spoke over me are more powerful than yours. And it is His words, not yours that brought me back to life.
He was still and was led silently a sheep to the slaughter… so that when He had defeated the grave… His words would hold the power of life and death… He speaks life… He hates death…
