Jason
Somebody is going to pay. I was wronged. Stripped of my innocence. Where is my vindicator? But there was no vindication. The wrongs were never made right. The only one who paid was me and the penalty I paid was with self-destruction. Twenty years of self-destruction, in fact. Church was the center of my family’s social life. I spent all day Sunday at church as a little boy. All day long, church was filled with preaching, music and enthusiastic worship. All night long was sheer terror once we got home. Night after night for many years, members of my family came into my room, taking turns to violate me. I hated them and hated myself for being born into this hellish nightmare. I knew if I told, I would have been beaten and berated. The morning after each visitation, I awoke hoping that it was a dream, but it wasn’t. I would spend hours vomiting, but could never purge myself of all I suffered from.
My parents were rarely present because they worked all the time. Home was such a terrifying place that I isolated myself, hoping to be invisible. I vividly remember sitting in my favorite corner of the house, watching my family go about their daily routines, thinking, “I don’t belong, no one cares about me, I have nobody to talk to.” My harsh realities sent me to a fantasy world that was much easier to manage. I became a very skilled liar and used that ability to insulate myself from life. I invented another identity who was an entirely different boy that the real me. It was a desperate attempt to be normal and to fit it. In truth, my life was anything but normal. Over the years, I was consumed with thoughts about my violators and what they did to me. It was as if it happened the day before. These images would torment me throughout my teenage years and most of my adult years. My hatred grew with each passing day, and so did my own personal prison. I kept my dark nightmares a secret for many years. I thought I would just outgrow the damage in due time, but nothing could have been further from the truth. “Why do you still haunt me?” I would scream to my memories. The past screamed back louder and I tried to shut it up with drugs and sex. Sex became a way to feel validated as a man and drugs became a way to medicate the realities of what was done to me. They were never enough to rid me of my secret horrors. I remembered every detail, every sensation, every vile smell. It was in this personal hell that I received two surprising, miraculous gifts – my daughters. These precious little girls became the unlikely avenue of my freedom. I knew there needed to be a complete transformation in my life. I was determined that the cycle of abuse was going to stop with me, but I needed a miracle. I prayed constantly for God to help me be the man and father my children needed. The response to that prayer was a confrontation with the damage of my past abuse and the destruction of my own self-abuse. Christ began to prepare my heart for freedom. I knew after several failed attempts to clean myself up that I needed help. I voluntarily entered a faith-based rehabilitation program and experienced a spiritual transformation that deeply impacted my life. I began to change, but even after participating in this very focused program, I was still consumed with unforgiveness, pain, and resentment for those who had violated me. The load became too heavy for me to bear, and I confided my abuse to a Godly woman who directed me to a Committed to Freedom retreat. I was desperate and exhausted. I was tired of being a prisoner to my abusers and to my past. Tired of the shame, the guilt, and the terror, I agreed to attend the retreat. I can honestly say that I will never be the same again. Because of Committed to Freedom, I learned to forgive. I learned to live with myself, and others, without shame and guilt. I learned to love me. It was during the retreat that I saw the pain of Christ’s suffering in a completely different way. I realize that I have never been alone. The actions of people who used me and used God obstructed my view of him for years. Now I understand that God and I share a unique connection: suffering. My obsession with who would vindicate me was laid to rest. I saw the application of Christ’s betrayal and death as my vindication. For the rest of my life, because of Christ’s affinity with my pain, because of his experiential identity with my exploitation, I will forever remain committed to freedom! I continue my journey today. My companion is Christ. I am a father to my daughters and free from drugs. I no longer harm myself nor do I exploit anyone in order to feel like a real man. I am whole and I am free. Committed to Freedom was the instrument of this amazing place of transformation. This is my reality.
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© Committed to Freedom 2006

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