Approaching the Same Problem from Opposite Sides

We had a guest speaker this week, a Pastor nicknamed “The Dark Shepard.” He said when he was a kid he wanted to be a professional wrestler and that would’ve been his name. Now, he’s still going by  that nickname, but he’s “drop kicking demons” with the word of Jesus instead.

So, the title of his sermon was Life Ain’t Fair. He said life isn’t fair because it’s so much better than death. He said you make more than 2,500 choices every day and you determine the quality of your life by those choices.

The Pastor quoted Deuteronomy 30:19-20 as his supporting verse for choosing life/the Lord.

This post won’t be long because I kind of internalized after his “announcement.” He said he was the victim of childhood sexual abuse. First, wow! The nerve (in a good way) to say that in front of a congregation of people as a victim is incredible! There’s so much stigma attached to being a victim of sexual abuse. It’s like you’re supposed to suffer in silence and no one can ever know it happened. Second, WOW! Men in general don’t speak up about being the victim of sexual abuse. It’s not “manly” to be a victim, much less “manly” to be the victim of sexual abuse. So, really, kudos to the Pastor for sharing that.

He said he was depressed for a long time until a point came in his life where he turned to God/Jesus for his happiness and chose life.

I cannot relate to a single syllable of that! I was the victim of childhood sexual abuse. I didn’t get relief when he died. I had hoped for it so hard! It happened, three days before it would’ve been a year since it happened. He died of a heart attack on the way to the hospital. After that, took me a decade to confront my dad for having knowingly left me in the house of a pedophile. I didn’t talk to him at all for five of those years and to this day, there’s never been a more awkward moment for me than when I say “I love you,” when I get off the phone with him. My granddad is the reason I have so few friends I would actually fall back on should I ever reach for help. He was my “person” and he violated everything about that relationship. I engaged in self-harm for a long time. I had lost my person, I didn’t have anyone to confide in. No one to grieve losing my childhood innocence with. Around the same time I confronted my dad, I stopped self-harming. I was ready to face it all and I had found my “people” to do it with.

How do you have some epiphany and you’re all healed from it?! The Pastor didn’t claim everything was better over night, but it was on it’s way. It took me a long time. Even then, when I spoke to my dad about it, I think there’s only ever been one other time when it’s been so satisfying to hear someone cry. To know that they’re hurting. It was satisfying to the core of my being! I’m unapologetic about that.

Fourteen years later, I’m not angry anymore. I don’t want to hear, nor make, anyone involved cry. I feel like I’ve moved on from it, but a Godly intervention never came for me. It was a life lesson. It was just one stepping stone in learning to read through people.

So, yeah. I really derailed after he dropped that bit of information. I lost the spiritual message.


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