I was five years old. I do not remember what precipitated the violent outburst that afternoon. I remember watching the bright red blood drip down the nose of my ten-month old baby sister and fall into her bowl of cream corn. My father had slapped her across the face before leaving the house. I remember my mother hastily packing our suitcases as soon as he was gone. And I remember the late-night Greyhound bus ride down to San Diego. After eight years of abuse, and with the support and encouragement of her family, my mother finally found the courage to end the relationship. She fled that night with three little girls while pregnant with her fourth child.

My father was a mean, domineering alcoholic. My earliest memories of him are twofold. I remember being terrified when I knew he was coming home, and I remember the many hiding places I’d created. I have no memory of his physical abuse, only the fear of his presence and the hatred of him my mother carried with her the rest of her life.

Upon entering my teen age years, it is no wonder I went looking for love in all the places. Alcohol, drugs and sex were the accepted norms in the peer groups I chose. I married right out of high school. Although we initially partied together, it was soon evident I could say no to drugs or alcohol, however my husband had no such ability or desire. I thought his jealousy was a sign of love and his temper a common male trait. I believed most marriages were no better or worse than mine. I believed good wives silently endured the verbal and physical abuse and became expert at hiding the evidence.

The violence in my marriage was not so much characterized by broken bones, black eyes, or late night trips to the emergency room common in other abusive relationships. While there were definitely scrapes, bruises and sore muscles, much of my pain came from the ever-present uncertainty of his actions. There never seemed to be any rhyme or reason to his violence. I never knew when his temper would flare or why.

During the seven years of our marriage I was spit upon and publically humiliated. I was abandoned for days at the home of total strangers during his drinking binges. There were countless extra-marital affairs and financial difficulties. I was drugged against my will. I was thrown across the room and told if I got up it would be the last thing I ever did. I was pushed down stair cases and threatened with drowning. I was threatened with harm if I cut too much green mold off the cheese or put too much water in the soup.

He often insisted I go 4-wheel-driving with him in our jeep. When we were miles away from the main road, he would reach across the seat, open my car door and try to push me out of the truck. Driving home in the middle of blizzards, he would frequently pull over and try to force me out of the car insisting I walk home. When I was 7 ½ months pregnant with my youngest son, he loaded his revolver, set it beside him on the grass and said, “This is the day I’m going to shoot you. This is the day you are going to die!” I believed him.

Six weeks after my son was born, I found a strange nightgown behind my bed. A voice inside me calmly said, “This is the end. It’s time to leave.” Oddly enough, there were no violent outbursts, no denials, no apologizes. I packed up my two sons, moved out of the home and filed for divorce. I was just going to put the past behind me and start life anew. I thought it was that simple.

I soon discovered I could distance myself from the torment of my husband, but I could not silence the tormenters inside my own head. I was consumed with hatred towards my ex-husband for the things done to me and for the resulting suffering my precious sons now endured. Being forced back into the workplace, I drove 35 miles to and from work cursing my husband the entire trip. With murderous thoughts, I systematically dismembered him telling God exactly where to begin and why he deserved such punishments.

One of the saddest effects of an abusive relationship is the eventual surrender to the destructive lies and perpetual echoes of the abuser. I believed my husband’s assessment of my worth as a human being. I believed I was a mistake as a daughter, unfit as a mother, a failure as a wife, a worthless friend, and unlovable as a woman.

No one in my family or his understood why I left. He told everyone I’d suffered a nervous breakdown following the birth of our second son. He said I was the crazy one and people seemed to agree. I felt absolutely alone and terrified no one would ever want to be my friend again. I believed there was not a single person on earth who cared whether I lived or died. I started to withdraw from my surroundings, hiding inside a mental refuge where I thought I’d be safe. I wasn’t suicidal. I was just retreating from the overwhelming pain of the only reality I knew at that time.

People may not have cared, but God did. It was during those dark days He began to demonstrate His love and power towards me. In ways I could not yet recognize, God gave me the strength to truly begin again. I moved out of state and ended up living right next door to a Calvary Chapel pastor. His family had been frustrated with God because escrow had been delayed on the purchase of their new home. Needless to say, an invitation to attend their church was soon extended.

The moment I entered the building, I felt God’s powerful presence tugging on my heart.
The pastor was quoting Revelation 3:20, where Jesus says, “Behold I stand at the door and knock. If any man hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him.” This is hard to describe, but it felt like someone or something was literally pounding on my heart. My heart was razing so fast I became frightened. All I wanted to do was run out the front door and never come back, but I was too embarrassed to stand up.

I cried uncontrollably throughout the entire service. When the pastor asked the audience if anyone wanted to open the door of their heart and ask Jesus Christ to come and live inside, I didn’t know what to do. The pastor’s wife sitting next to me said, “You need accept Jesus. If you want to go down, I’ll go with you.” We walked down towards the stage, got on our knees and prayed as directed. Afterward, everyone was so happy. But in all honesty, I have to say I did not mean a single word I said. I just wanted to get my sons and get out of that place. Compliance seemed the quickest exit. But God saw a wounded child in need and was not about to give up so easily.

Two months later, I “ended up” inviting the pastor of another church to come to my apartment and tell me more about this “Good News” I kept hearing about. That night he and his wife told me how passionately God cared about every detail of my life. They told me how precious I was to God. They told me God’s character was so full of love He would never humiliate me, abandon me, abuse me, or violate my trust.

They showed me verses in the Bible where God says He loved me so much, He sent His Son Jesus to die on a cross to pay the penalty for the crimes I had committed against God in my rebellion and self-centered living. They said Jesus took the punishment I deserved so I would not have to. Jesus died so I could live.

They told me God was able and willing to heal my heart from the wrongs I had done and the wrongs done to me. They said Jesus wanted to be my loving husband, my faithful lover, my provider, my defender, and my compassionate and forever companion. They said God gave His word I would never be alone again.

As they shared from the Bible, I began to understand for the first time in my life the incredible love God had for me. I’d never known anyone demonstrate such selfless love for another human being. I distinctly remember thinking, “How could anyone say ‘No’ to this kind of love? Why would any woman ever want to?”

In front of the couch in my living room, we all got on our knees and I freely made the conscious decision to surrender my life to Christ. This time my words were true. I meant every word. I made this decision not because I felt pressured or because I wanted people to accept me. I made this decision because it was the most logical, natural response to such perfect love.

When I finished praying I knew instantly I was a different person. The proverbial saying “the lights went on” was absolutely true for me. The moment I said “Amen”, I experienced such a profound mental awareness, I thought God had literally healed brain cells from the drug and alcohol abuse of my youth. It was a profound, life-changing experience.

God subsequently birthed in me an unquenchable hunger to read the Bible. I read the entire New Testament over and over again. (See Psalms 119:11) I started reading the Bible to my sons every day. I was amazed to discover how much God cared about every area of life. (See John 10:10) I started praying every day (see I Timothy 2:1-8) and giving God a tenth of my income. (See Deuteronomy 14:22-29) I threw out most of my music, books and videos. (Psalms 101:3) After reading what God said about sex outside of marriage, I ended a relationship of fornication. (See Colossians 3:1-17)

I was so excited about what God was doing in my life I called my ex-husband to share this good news with him. (See Romans 1:16) His response was, “I knew you had mental problems when we were married, but now you have totally lost your mind. I am filing for full legal custody of the boys because you are clearly crazy.” God stopped his efforts and I retained full custody throughout my son’s childhood. But God allowed the testing of my faith to begin almost immediately, not to hurt me, but to strengthen my commitment to Him and to demonstrate His power in all circumstances.

Over time, God gently prompted and empowered me to change many hurtful habits. I remember the night I first understood the destructive power of my bitter, unforgiving heart towards my ex-husband. God showed me how poisonous my thoughts still were (See Hebrews 12:15)

He took me to His Word which said if I refused to forgive him, my relationship with Jesus would be hindered and the effectiveness of my service to Him greatly impaired. My heart broke because I loved Jesus and wanted nothing more than to please Him in every area of my life. The thought of ever being separated from Him was unbearable. I also knew the most skilled surgeon could not remove this diseased portion of my heart. I cried out to God in agony, asking how this horrible sickness could ever be removed. He said, “Ask Me. The things impossible with men are possible with God.” (See Mark 9:23)

I immediately confessed my sin of un-forgiveness and vengeance and cried out for God’s healing mercy. Instantly the pain inside my heart was gone. This is another one of those experiences which is hard to describe. I just know what happened to me as a result of my confession. I knew my sweet Jesus had instantaneously, supernaturally taken away the bitterness. In place of that pain, He gave me a love for my ex-husband I did not believe possible. By the power of God’s grace, I remain free from the grip of bitterness to this day and am able to pray for his salvation with all my heart.

One of the most comforting truths God has anchored deep in my heart is the fact that He will never leave me alone. (See Matthew 28:19-20) Nothing I could ever do will cause Him to stop loving me or reject me. I am absolutely safe in His care. I can trust Him with my earthly life and my eternal destiny.

Battered, abused, rejected, bitter, lonely women all over the world are searching for love in all the wrong places. You may be one of these women. I want you to know real Love, perfect Love, enduring Love is found in a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, God’s one and only Son.

The real test of a person’s character is proven when their words are consistent with their actions. God didn’t just say He loved us. He demonstrated His love by sending His Son into this wicked world to bring us to eternal life thorough the death, burial and resurrection of Christ. By these actions, we see what real love is. We receive God’s amazing gift not on the basis of our good works, but on the basis of His mercy and love. (See I John 4:9-10)

“But as many as would receive Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God, even to those who believe in His name.” John 1:12.

Anyone reading this story right now can receive God’s free gift of love by simply saying to God, “Lord Jesus, I need you. Thank you for dying on the cross for my sins. I open the door of my heart and receive you as my Savior and Lord. Thank you for forgiving my sins and giving me eternal life. Heal my heart and make it clean. Make me the kind of person you want me to be. Thank you for loving me so much. In Jesus name, amen.”

Thank you.