When I kept my story hidden the weight was too enormous to bear.
The older I got, the heavier that weight became.
So, I told my story.
As a little girl my deepest longing was to belong and to be loved. It was very simple. If I had told on my parents and exposed their deceit, I would have lost any hope of finding that.
Of course, the fear of telling is yet another layer of dread.
As I became a woman and had children of my own, I was confronted with a choice: stay in the denial I was taught, drag them along and pass down a generational deceit; Or tell the Truth. I decided I would tell the truth because my love for them was deeper than any longing I had for myself. So, I began to tell my story in my early 20s.
Katy bar the door! [Katy bar the door is an exclamation that means watch out, trouble is on its way. This is an American phrase, usually heard in the southern United States.]
It didn’t go well for me.
I had underestimated the battle that would ensue when I refused to drag their sin along with me on the cords of deceit. I know people hate the word sin, but what else do you call such debauchery? Incest is something not many want to talk about. And when you do, its not at all welcomed.
Oh, you can sit in a dark corner and share with someone else in a quiet secret. But, to announce to everyone this atrocity? Not so much!
I found myself in a battle not just against my parents, but a battle of light and darkness. I needed tools that were outside of my strength to get through. Tools from a kingdom not of this world.
I found those tools. I told my story. I’m still standing. Find your story and tell it with all the strength you have. Pray for the other strength you will need to endure.
For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.Ephesians 6:12