Repressed Memories: Why Didn’t I Remember Sooner?

The day my heart shattered was one of those moments frozen in time, much like 911. She was in her late twenties when she told me about the molestation that occurred 15 years earlier. She shared it in snippets over the following year with each revelation cutting deeper than the last. How could this be? How could my older brother have sexually abused “my baby”? How could I have missed the signs? Continue reading

My “god” had No Arms!

My god had No Arms: Overcoming a distorted image of God resulting from sexual abuse

As a prayer counselor prayed with me after my mother’s death, I remember how shocked I was to hear myself exclaim, “My god had no arms!” It came in response to a childhood memory of my mom accidentally scalding me as she washed my hair. Such words would normally never come from my lips, but obviously, the child in me felt unprotected. There were other times the god I thought I knew seemed to have failed me as well, like when I awoke at night to find someone standing over my bed touching me in ways that no preschooler should experience.  And of course, what does that little girl think when she hears a mumbled death threat not to tell anyone? Where is God in such circumstances? Continue reading