The Whisper of Evil

I wasn’t suppose to write words on a page of the tragedy I have lived through, I was supposed to deny it.

Growing up my hope was supplanted with the intentions of dark people. They didn’t ultimately kill my smile for ever, but they darkened my days and stole my nights for a very long time.

I sometimes questioned why it never occurred to me to talk to some teacher at school or maybe a counselor in high school. I saw their offices, but those offices were not for people like me. I didn’t really understand what those offices were for. The truth was I didn’t think you talked about pain in those offices, but school.

I knew the rules: I had to keep my story underground, hidden from the public and unkept in my soul.

I watched life happen around me, and happen to me, but I never entered in. I stayed away from relationships with other people and never let them know me. I seemed satisfied only with pleasing abusers; first my family and then my first husband. I continued on this way for the majority of the first part of my life.

That was until the sting of denial opened my eyes.

Status quo had stolen some of my best years. Staying quiet wasn’t working, so I began to talk. I started with the easiest abusive thing to talk about – losing my virginity to my father. The murder and other abuses would come to memory much later in life.

But a very strange thing happened in my early years of bringing back my realities: telling my story didn’t free me, not at first. First the shame and guilty of it all kind of shut me down. The abusive guy I was married to used my shame and story against me often. Now he had even more ammo to use against me! I was now the crazy one with all the problems. Instead of recognizing that as a classic abuser’s pattern, I succumbed to his stupidness and control and tried even harder to please. It continued my believe that I was bad, broken and needed much help.

I stopped telling my stories for years. Pleasing abusive people was and stayed a steady theme in my life for years.

God has shown me the precision of not being responsible for other people, but being responsible only for myself.

U C U! You see you is the cry I’ve heard God tell me time and time again.

It was through finding my story in full honesty and seeing myself through accountability to Him that the veil of living out my life for other people stopped.

The shame and confusion began to dissipate as I looked only at myself. Looking at myself led me see that I was a victim of some pretty bad crimes. It helped me stop listening to the voice of accusers. They were slandering me and I was all done with that.

Following the voice of people who deny their own accountability will leave you stranded and fearful every, single time.

Don’t listen to whispers of darkness! Learn to find your own voice, use it wisely and never give up. God is with you.

Published by Gracedxoxo

I have the courage to tell my story to help others embrace theirs.

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