Never Destroyed

In a moment of total vulnerability (which I am so good at), this past week has been incredibly difficult for me. When the school year ended, and I lost my counselor and one of my closest friends as a roommate, I thought I was totally ready and able to take on the rest of the year. I had to hop on a long ride to Philly right before my friend moved out, and the week I spent there was incredible (as my last post expressed). I came back very filled, and felt even more confident that this coming year – my senior year – would be so much easier than what I’d faced this last year.

I wasn’t expecting the crushing loneliness.

My new roommates are super awesome, one of whom has been a wonderful friend for the last six months. However, being the only single person in this house, where I’m constantly surrounded by couples, has been crushing. There’s nothing anyone can do – it’s not that I’m feeling left out by anyone – I’m simply lonely. So many changes have happened so quickly, and I’ve felt breathless and alone.

The Monday before my trip to Philadelphia, I had a doctor appointment to see if I had any lasting, internal damage or scars from a very sadistic man I dated. The appointment was terrible to get through (thankfully I had a wonderful friend with me), and the results were a little disappointing. In essence, the doctor told me if I ever want to have a physically intimate relationship someday, I’d need to go through a specific type of physical therapy.

I had my first appointment yesterday, and it’s going to be very different than anything I expected: it’s invasive, but it’s necessary. Seeing how much work I have to do because of something that was never my fault in the first place breaks me. It’s heartbreaking that after so many years of sadistic abuse, I have to endure more physical pain in order to recover.

And all it does is make me feel lonelier. I watch these people in my life in happy and healthy relationships, and it puts weight on my chest. I don’t even know what a healthy relationship is like. I don’t know what it’s like to have a boyfriend who doesn’t physically and sexually harm me. I don’t know what it’s like to have a man who leads me to Christ and builds me up instead of tearing me down in the most emotionally painful of ways.

Father’s Day is coming up, and it’s adding to the loneliness. Lately, I’ve been scrambling to remember what it’s like to have a dad. I’ve begun to forget what it is to have a man who loves me and seeks to protect me and lead me to Christ. Above all, I forget that Jesus, Himself, is that Man.

~I know you feel there’s no hope but / that ain’t true / Jesus saves~

There are times in my life where I feel the weight of everything I’ve gone through – the years of illness with no hope for a cure, losing daddy, and so many years of physical and sexual trauma. I can usually function without letting it all suffocate me, but once or twice a year I get this heaviness in my chest that’s paralyzing. The voice of the enemy echoes in my head…

“God doesn’t really love you. If He loved you, He would have saved you. He would have provided a cure. He wouldn’t have let your dad die. He would have saved you from being raped and abused for so long. What kind of Father watches all of that happen to His daughter, and does nothing?”

Last week, I had a PTSD attack while I was completely alone. That has never happened to me before – I’ve always been able to at least call or reach someone, but this time, I couldn’t get ahold of anyone (I truly believe there was an element of spiritual warfare in that). The attack took hours to calm down from, and I couldn’t sleep that night. As I was up, trying to calm myself down, the enemy whispered his lies again. I refused to listen, and opened my Bible app instead. I began to read this passage:

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies” (2 Corinthians 4:7-10).

I will never try to compare the things I have been through to anyone else. There are people in this world with deep wounds I never wish to know. But when I read, “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed,” my heart was lifted. I have been afflicted by so many different things – death, pain, illness, abuse – and it has felt crushing at times. Yet the apostle Paul wrote that even though we are afflicted in every way, we are never crushed.

Jesus said, “I have said these things to you, that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have tribulation. But take heart! For I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). I know that trials have been promised to me; not because of the workings of Christ, but the workings of the enemy (James 1:17). I also know that my Jesus can use all of that pain for His good, His purpose, and His name (Romans 8:28).

In this next year, as I sort through my passions, I must consistently remind myself that Jesus is the daddy that I lost. Jesus is the Husband that I want, and Jesus is the Man who covers every mark that was ever placed on my body. In my times of crushing loneliness, and on the days when I feel the heaviness of everything that has ever afflicted me, I remind myself of the words of Paul:

“But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest on me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).

I am eternally grateful for a Papa who has traveled with me through all of my trials. I am thankful that He gives me the strength to be vulnerable with all of my readers. I am thankful for the holy discontent that stemmed from so many years of hell I bravely walked through (by His grace alone). I am thankful that He has sent people at my new home – my brothers in Christ, my incredible friend and old roommate, my wonderful new roommate who knows my story – who love me and want to protect me.

~Jesus came for the sick / Jesus came for the weak / Jesus came to give good news and to set the captives free~

I know that I will probably deal with this feeling of loneliness for a while, but I will always rest in knowing the love of Christ will never leave me. I hope that you can join me in standing firm against the enemy in this knowledge.

“What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own son, but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died – more than that, who was raised – who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or sword? No! In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loves us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:31-35, 37-39).

To anyone struggling with any of this, please feel free to reach me through the email listed in my blog profile to your left. As always, I am thankful for you all and your support in my newfound vulnerability, and I care for you and pray for you often.