My childhood family home has recently come up for auction. It has been beautifully renovated, inside and out and about a week ago someone mentioned to me that there was an open home coming up. My curiosity got the better of me and I went and had a look… I was interested to see the work that had been done and to see if anything had stayed the same in the decades that had passed since I left home when I was seventeen. Driving through my old suburb, past the houses of my childhood friends, places I used to play and into my old street was a weird sensation, I actually had butterflies in my stomach. Some of the houses had been renovated, or knocked down and rebuilt, but some of them looked like they had been stuck in a time warp since the 1970’s. It is over 30 years since I left and at least 20 years since I had last set foot in my childhood home after mum had sold it following the death of my dad…. And physically it looked nothing like it used to. Every room in the house had been ‘made over’ and it has been renovated into a gorgeous home. I was instantly drawn to my old bedroom, I was surprised at how small it was and it was there that I felt the first wave of emotion as I was immediately transported back to the little girl I once was. Despite appearing so very different on the outside, there were rooms in this house that still brought back memories of things that should never have happened there. This house was where I lost my innocence… where I saw, heard and experienced things that I would much rather forget.
But, here’s the thing…. I won’t forget, I can’t forget. I say that not because I don’t want to forget, but because I’m human and in my human frailty I get reminded of things that trigger memories from time to time. I can however, choose not to remember. I can choose not to dwell on the pain and the sadness that this house clearly still represents for me. I can choose to recognise and be grateful that the experiences I suffered there have made me into the woman I am today. And I can choose to acknowledge that it is by the Grace of God that I survived and overcame those experiences and can now use them to come alongside and minister to other women who have gone through similar things.
We can do an external make over on anything to make it look different. My childhood home has been transformed to resemble something that looks like it came straight out of the pages of Home Beautiful. But external appearances only go so far…. and unless there is an internal shift as well, nothing will really change. How often do we go through life with our external masks on to cover up the pain of the past? We ‘renovate’ ourselves so that no one can see what we once were and we try to conceal what we’re really like. We try very hard to hide what we used to be. But masks are just that…. They are a band-aid solution to cover up the truth behind the mask. And, unfortunately band-aids inevitably fall off. They get dirty and lose their stickiness rendering them ineffectual… We are ineffectual if we try to go through life without ever removing our masks. In order for true transformation to take place, the mask must come off. The things of old cannot just be covered up. There needs to be a radical transformation from the inside out. Romans 12:2 Don’t copy the behaviour and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect.
If you have seen Forrest Gump, you may remember the scene where Forrest and Jenny go to Jenny’s now abandoned childhood home and she is so overcome with memories and emotion that she begins to throw rocks at the house until finally she collapses; exhausted and in tears. It is perfectly ok and normal to feel strong emotions about things that we’ve experienced, especially for victims of abuse. The emotions and feelings are normal… but living out of those emotions and feelings is not normal. I forgave the perpetrators of my abuse many years ago but I’m not going to tell you it has been a bed of roses. For years I carried the raw wounds of sexual abuse well into my adulthood. The shame and lies I carried inhibited me from allowing myself to enjoy the God given gift of a normal sexual relationship, and my husband unfortunately and unfairly paid the price for someone else’s actions.
Survivors of childhood sexual abuse carry deep wounds that can only be healed by forgiving those who hurt us and allowing the grace and love of God to wash over us to mend our brokenness. I had to go to a place of complete surrender, to a place where I could finally believe that I was unconditionally loved and accepted. I had to learn that sex in its proper place and context is actually a beautiful thing. And I had to understand that what happened to me was not my fault, I didn’t ask for it and I refuse to let it dictate how I live the rest of my life.
I am an overcomer. My past is now in its proper place…. as part of who I was, but it will no longer define who I am. 2 Corinthians 5:17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!
If you are a survivor of sexual abuse, please get in touch… I’d love to hear your story. And if you are still struggling with your past, or you know someone who is, I’d love to hear from you as well. There is power in personal testimony.
Please feel free to send me a message about this, or any of my other blogs vikki@redeemed.net.au
