I Forgave My Abuser

After the first breakdown, I continued on with my therapy at Laureate. I remember mainly talking about my teenage “urgent” problems and continual treatment of anorexia. Like many victims of abuse, I struggled a great deal with self-image. I was so sick. I was convinced that I looked huge in the mirror! I weighed 96lbs at one point. Which may not seem to be that small but it was for me. I look back in disgust and empathy all at the same time, knowing that I truly didn’t see the extent of my sickness.

Thankfully, I was a part of an amazing youth group at a phenomenal church in Tulsa called First United Methodist Church (FUMC) at this time in my life. To this day I attribute much of my faith to the upbringing my family and I had at FUMC. FUMC Youth was known for mission trips for grades 6-12. We traveled mostly nationwide and some to Mexico. That summer we took our annual Mission Tour to Georgia I believe. I remember the campgrounds we stayed at clearly. We stayed at a summer camp with many cabins. I remember there were a lot of trees surrounding the area; which I remember to look like tall Christmas tree-like trees. I remember riding a yellow school bus through the hills and valleys. I remember passing the trees early in the morning on our way to the mission site, where we were restoring homes, and the sunlight cutting through the branches.

This trip was only one of approximately sixteen mission trips I took with FUMC (several of course were mere micro missions). The memories often blend altogether. But this trip I remember clearly for two reasons.

One night, after we all showered, ate, and were wrapping up the evening worship in the outdoor tabernacle I felt a huge move in my heart. I felt compelled to tell my mother, who was a volunteer leader on the trip, what I had shared with my therapist. I was so scared to tell her. After all, I had only told one person! But it was SO heavy on my heart! I knew I had to follow through with what God was placing on my heart. Hesitating, I grabbed another volunteer leader; the youth called her Momma Dubie, and told her about my abuse and my longing to share with my mom that night. Momma Dubie was so shocked. She said she would go with me to speak with my mother but wanted it to come from me. 

It was dark outside and you could see the beautiful stars peeking through the tall tree tops. The campgrounds were filled with lightened spirits after our worship service. I slowly approached my mom. Before, I could even reach her I began trembling and tears streamed down my cheeks as I locked eyes with her. She looked at me and then at Momma Dubie and I’m guessing from the look on our face she knew we didn’t come with good news. Her voice trembled and she asked “Sarah, what’s going on?” I then, as you probably guessed, had breakdown number two!

I shared with her everything. She did what any loving mother would do and sobbed with me, held me, kissed my cheeks, and held me some more. I remember her voicing what seemed to be several different emotions at that time. I felt like a pop bottle that had been shaken up and ready to explode. Rather, I didn’t explode I released all the hidden crap I had bottled up for so long. By this time it was very late at night and I was an empty pop bottle… and my mom was clearly distraught. She and I loved on each other a bit more and quietly said our good nights as we walked towards our separate cabins.  

Momma Dubie then took me by arm and walked me towards our side by side cabins. She stopped as we approached the cabins and asked to pray over me. We sat down next to each other on the porch outside of the cabin with our backs leaning against the wall. She began to pray. We prayed for a while. Then Momma Dubie started sobbing. Wiping her tears she wrapped her arms around me and said “I don’t know how?” she wept more “… but I just heard from God… and he told me to not let go of you until you forgave the abuser… Sarah I couldn’t imagine forgiving such a thing… I’m so sorry. I think to move on with your life you have to forgive him?” In total transparency, my first thought after hearing what she had just said was “F*CK him! Forgive HIM? Impossible! He destroyed my life! He took my childhood from me! He is a sicko!...” 

Momma Dubie’s grip around me tightened and through her tears she prayed for hours over me.

It was then that what seemed to be impossible became possible. She prayed the words “Lord, I know Sarah can’t forgive the abuser on her own! Lord you’re going to have to take it from her!” {I have no other way of describing this so stay with me…} I looked up from my tear filled eyes, with Momma Dubies arms around me, and in an opening in the tree tops, where the stars were shining brightly, it was as if God himself reached through the opening and ripped the un-forgiveness out of my heart! That very instant I took a huge deep breath and gasped as if that bitterness and un-forgiveness was being tore and ripped from my very chest! My next breath of air filling my lungs was a feeling I did not recognize! I literally had NO ILL FEELINGS TOWARDS MY ABUSER! The same abuser I was cursing out in my head just moments before.

There was no other explanation. I doubted what had just happened. It was nearing 3 AM maybe I was hallucinating? So, naturally, I tried being mad at the abuser again… It didn’t work?! I tried again! Nothing? What was this? What? WHAT Just happened?

THIS. WAS. A. MIRACLE!

Taking another breath I turned around with a questioned look facing Momma Dubie. She smiled through her tears and said “He(God) took it from you! I felt it!!!”

 

I literally felt so light and so free! I felt this amazing peace I had NEVER felt- it was completely foreign to me! I can’t even put it into words! I am trying to blog about this but I cannot even give credit through words of the peace I felt!

You see why I remember that campground so well? One, I finally told my mother of my abuse. Two, a miracle was performed on my heart- I forgave my abuser!!!! The next morning on the bus the rays of sunlight cut through the branches and I saw hope in the world. A tangible hope.

It has been close to fifteen years since I sat with my back against that cabin on that porch on those campgrounds. Yet, I remember it clearly. To this day I have no bitterness towards my abuser! In fact, without disclosing too much, I see him occasionally. I have prayed for him and actually have compassion for what made him do what he did? I bet this sounds bizarre? I know not all forgiveness comes in this form. I will share more- possibly an even greater forgiveness story in a future post.

I have more of my story to write and share. But this is a huge post to digest.

 {Sidebar I ask that you pray for me and my family. Since I have taken this step to write my story, and possibly help another, we have faced some opposition. I refuse to let the opposition take us down. Our God is greater!}