And often all that is left
are the memories.
I remember
My childhood –
How I loved Sunday School
Teaching my dolls the lesson
When I returned home.
I remember
Attending the Christian School
Memorizing scripture, praying
And singing Jesus Loves Me.
I remember
Being a good girl
Obedient, spiritual, loving
Making my parents proud.
I remember
Dating a Christian man,
Marrying in the church,
Difficulty pleasing my husband.
I remember
Starting a family,
Baptizing our sons and
Raising them in the church.
I remember
Their Daddy being angry every day.
Scared when he came home from work
What mood would he be in.
I remember…
Being told I was a bad wife
and a bad mother.
What he said I was – I was
So it must be true.
I remember
How He controlled my life
I tried hard to please him
So the kids and I would be safe.
I remember
The boys questioned,
Do we have to kiss him good night?
He’s mean to us. I told them,
Yes, Jesus wants us to be loving.
Then we don’t like Jesus anymore.
I remember…
So difficult to admit we are being abused.
So we hid it from everyone.
Because silence hides violence.
I remember
How the abuse affected my sons
I became desperate for help.
Nowhere to turn.
I remember
Going to my pastor for help.
Please tell me what God wants me to do,
To keep us from harm.
I remember
He said, your husband is a respected Christian man.
He is the head of your home.
You cannot divorce him.
Silence hides violence.
I remember
How my sons were thrown, kicked, punched,
emotionally and verbally abused.
My sons lied about their bruises
to protect their father.
Silence hides violence.
I remember how
Their physical bruises eventually healed.
But their emotional scars left holes in their hearts forever.
When silence hides violence.
I remember
Their psychological anguish
Depression and anxiety,
Treated by drugs and alcohol.
Anything to soothe the pain.
I remember
Finding my sons’ dead bodies
Both of them overdosed
To fill the holes in their hearts.
I remember
Ushering their body bags to the medical examiner’s van,
Saying I am sorry I did not protect you.
You are safe now in the arms of Jesus.
The church must be our hope.
Teaching families to respect each other
As God’s temples.
To make a difference
in the wounded hearts of children and adults.
Then no more will silence hide violence.
Sharing my story to the honor and glory of God.
My survival story made possible
Through God’s mercy, strength, love, and grace.
May other victims survive in Jesus’ name.
