![]() ![]() …the God of my childhood is lost in the pain and trauma of abuse and I am left to struggle…. I am determined that I will not suffer forever… I shut down… become numb and feel nothing. I am thirteen… the shadows still strike fear… the creaking stairs terrorize my mind… nightmares torment my sleep… I have tried the God of wrath, and He has left me condemned and lonely. My soul is tormented in the night, as the shadows dance on the walls of my room. I flee.Īnd always my heart wonders: Which God is real? Which one is safe? Which one will ultimately save me? Which one will condemn? These two Gods-the one revealed in nature, who makes beautiful things and whispers in the breeze, and the angry god who threatens, yells and abuses-collide, head on, in my mind, soul and spirit. He flies into a rage, cursing disobedience, declaring damnation on the offender… He offers religion without relationship, and it seems that the church affirms this teaching…. I hear murmurings that my father has threatened to kill us-his family. My heart is captivated and I want to know Him, this God who paints the beautiful sunrise and draws the curtains of sunset… I feel Him in the breezes, see His angels in the raindrops as they dance in the puddles. ![]() I pause from my play, a young preschooler, to take in the breathtaking view, and wonder if I would be closer to God if I were at the top of that mountain. The mountains rise, tall and majestic, stretching into the skies and gracing the heavens-that place where God dwells. ![]()
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