I don’t tell my story for any kind of recognition or reconciliation. The more I talk, the more it seems that no authority really cares about the murdered woman.
If we all shared only because someone listened, most of us would stop talking about our stories. People get tired of hearing our burden; they get tired of our wrestling with the past.
You know what? I’m still going to talk about it.
Finding the courage to speak the unspeakable acts that happen behind closed doors isn’t about who listens; It’s about spewing it out of your soul; It’s about crying out to a God who never wearies of listening.
His love is sufficient and His grace will carry me through. That’s all I need. He is enough for me.
The murdered woman? Oh, I care. I care enough to bring her story with me. I will be her voice beyond the grave. She deserves that and so do I.
It really isn’t about who listens, it’s about you. You see you! God is standing with you.