I don't want to call him Father...

“I don’t want to call him Father.” The following contains adult content related to childhood sexual abuse.

I’m an adult survivor of childhood sexual abuse. As a child my father abused me sexually, physically and emotionally. While the bruises were quick to heal, the emotional scars remain with me to this day. I have struggled with drug abuse, promiscuity and a profound lack of self esteem. The drugs helped create a false reality that was easier to live within than the true reality within myself. I confused sex with love for many years. I used my body as a token and found worth only in physical expression. Because of the experience and the choices I made following I have found self worth difficult to come by.

I confess it was only the grace of God that saved me from myself. But His grace was not accepted easily. A dear friend of mine invited me to church. I remember the preacher talking about God the “Father” and if I would just submit to the “Father” I would be saved. I trusted no one and certainly not someone called “Father”. “Father” to me meant deception and pain. I had submitted to my father for years and the results were devastating.

I went to the next service and the preacher spoke about love, particularly the “Father’s” love. I dearly wanted to be loved. But my last experience with my father revolved around him repeatedly pounding my head into our kitchen floor while he screamed, “I love you.” I didn’t want this kind of love.

The next service was pivotal. The preacher spoke about grace and forgiveness. I had blamed myself for what happened to me. I felt dirty and profane. As the preacher explained that true forgiveness could not be received from anyone other than God, and that God was not a man, something clicked. He spoke about God’s son and the trials, the abuses he suffered. The preacher said the son had done this for me. At first, I thought “what’s the catch?” But then the preacher mentioned unconditional love. The son didn’t have to suffer, he chose to. The son didn’t have to die, he chose to. The son didn’t have to love me, he chose to. At that moment, I decided to believe in this son even though I was still on the fence about his “Father”.

If you are raising a child who has suffered from abuse know this. They need your unconditional love. I’m not recommending a lack of boundaries or rules. I am suggesting that even when they act out, dislike their actions but always love them. Abused children are mistrustful with good reason. Love is something they crave but have a warped sense of receiving. If they push you away, step back but hold on. Keep your faith as they struggle with theirs.