As I lay in bed, wide awake but desperately seeking sleep, images started flashing in my mind. Scenes of sexual abuse. I quivered because I felt like each moment I was reliving as a helpless, little child. I shuttered, feeling as if the offender was there in my very room. For the first time in, well, a long time, I felt pain about everything that had happened. I tried making all these thoughts, these vile images, go away themselves, but they refused to do so.
I started distracting my mind, trying to think about the beauty that God has created from that very past. I cradled myself while singing songs about God being the One who saves. I then swallowed my pride and rested in His arms. My Father's arms. I laid there for a while, refusing to let go of Him. I let Him erase the pain that was near; renew my mind; be my comfort. I in turn thanked Him for being such a loving Father; for being my healer; for so many things...
Then I started to bawl. I realized that this was the first time in, well, a long time, that I truly asked my Father for His help. And for all those times I refused His help, He was standing right there waiting to be my comfort...
To make it short, I decided to stick with my Savior from here on out.
No comments:
Post a Comment