Fear with a capital “F” stays with survivors of incest. It was a gift given to us at breakfast, served with soup at lunch, and gluttonously given at the dinner table. Fear had to be consumed by us for these households to operate smoothly.
We probably don’t believe that we operate from a fear perspective. Fear can look like respect. Fear can intimidate for safety reasons. Fear dominates our lives but we fail to call it what it is.
I would challenge you this: “If it were not for fear, wouldn’t you tell your story more?” Your story needs comfort brought to it. The damage you received through the incestuous actions needs redemption, peace — life breathed into those areas.
Why are we quiet?
FEAR. That’s why we’re quiet. Fear the person listening will judge us. Fear that the world will see us differently. Fear that we will have to see ourselves differently. Fear that we will have no family.
I could keep going for hours on fear. I know because fear used to be my middle name.
God’s words in the bible have lessened and defeated the language of fear in my life. The bible teaches me that I have family — the family of God. I learn that God is where my justice lives, not here on earth or in some man-made courtroom. That fails at the insurmountable injustices me and my children have lived through.
Scriptures like this one lead me out of the dungeon of fear:
I will leave you with this question: If you didn’t fear, would you tell what happened to you?