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It was during this time that I realized there was a label for some of my childhood
memories that I had always shoved into a distant corner of my mind whenever
they surfaced -- it was called sexual molestation. Because I had been
molested twice by a female baby-sitter (not by a man, which is stereotypical
of sexual abuse) when I was five, I never realized the significance of it.
I also began to realize that the spiritual environment we had been in during
my growing up years also qualified for the label of "abusive" and
that it mattered. I hadn't left it behind me; the effects were
still having a significant impact on my life. Even though I was on a quest
for the truth regarding doctrine and the Word, the environment had also affected
me emotionally, psychologically, and even physically.
Another thing I learned during this time was that people who have been abused
tend to be drawn to abusive environments. Christians who have experienced
abuse tend to be drawn to abusive churches. It feels familiar and somehow
"right" to be told or treated like you are bad, unworthy, ungodly
and unable to hear from God yourself. It also provides some measure of
comfort (though false) to be in an environment that offers you the hope that
if you can just live up to this list of "standards" of holiness, you
will be good enough to be acceptable.
Our marriage had an odd beginning. It was basically an arranged marriage
on my side. Brent was interested in me, but I was not interested in him.
However, I had been taught that parents know better than children whom
they should marry. I had also been taught that love is not an emotion.
If you do what is right, the feelings will follow. To a degree this
is true. But this combination of beliefs assumes that marrying who your parents
pick is automatically the right thing to do. My father met Brent briefly once
and decided that he was the one for me. He told my mother and sister about
it. Later my sister told me. I was shocked and dismayed because
I didn't even like Brent at that point. But I did what I had been taught
was right. Brent and I were married while practically strangers since the environment
we were in did not allow any means of getting to know one. I certainly
couldn't have let Brent know who I was because I didn't know myself. My
family never met his family until the wedding, though I did meet his family
a couple times. And at first glance, our families appeared quite compatible
since we were both from pastors' families in the same denomination. This strained
beginning brought some fundamental weaknesses into our marriage. Brent
and I are about as humanly incompatible as it is possible for two people to
be. (The good news is that God is bigger than that!) Though completely
unintentional, I also defrauded Brent in marrying him without loving him. The
erroneous teaching I received defrauded me as well. The feelings of love
didn't follow the obedience because it was an obedience God never asked for.
This difficult start also created strain on the physical aspects
of our marriage. It is virtually impossible to go from being practical
strangers to having a wedding night of intimacy all in one day's time without
creating some feelings of degradation or hurt of some kind. This, on top
of the fact, that I had some problems in that area anyway due to the molestation.
Sexual violation always results in some type of consequences because it
is the deepest possible violation. Any sexual violation, whether it technically
results is loss of virginity, violates the one-flesh relationship God intends
between a husband and wife. The fact that it is involuntary does not lessen
the impact. For me, rather than becoming promiscuous, I froze. I always
wondered why I was constantly being accused of immorality as a teenager when
there was no way I could have ever gotten close to it. Even kissing just about
sent me into a full-blown panic attack with intense feelings of claustrophobia.
I was married at age 21, our second child was born when I was 25, and the
crisis and healing process took until I was 27. By the time I had reached
what I thought was the end of this process, I was able to look back at my entire
life and begin to see the threads of God's broad plan for my life. I could
see how God had a plan for my life and I could see His hand at work in that
plan from the moment of my conception. I could also see how Satan had
a destructive plan for my life and how he had been at work on that plan from
the moment of my conception. I could see how all the parts and pieces
fit together and I was amazed and delighted to know that God cared so much for
me that He went to such painstaking detail in the creation of my life.
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