Growing up in old fashioned church, you are taught not to think of yourself. Self image is a made up excuse of the world to be selfish so the old church says. Is it really that simple? Cause it seems to me if a person is torn apart verbally by all the people around them that the long term emotional effect will be very damaging. And then go to church and be reminded how worthless you are there too. That philosophy is missing some pieces. God wouldn’t have sacrificed Jesus for a useless pile of humans. No, He loved us. He loved us first not once we were cleansed. Doesn’t that say we have value in His eyes? Doesn’t that say we matter? I think it does and the Bible has verses that support that. Turning off the voices of ugliness can take years. We shouldn’t be those voices for people too. Because God showed His love to us in that while we were sinners Christ died for us. (Rom 5:8) I recently heard someone broken by the sins of her grandchild. She thought that pain was some kind of punishment or rejection from God. But it isn’t. It can certainly feel that way to us when we are going through something we don’t understand. All this to say, I am only struggling to believe that God DOES love so therefore I can accept the person He made me to be without regret. The words I gave my friend are words I heard another survivor of childhood abuse say. “You are enough.”
As a kid I watched my parents fight about different things. I don't really have any other parents to compare them to so I can't really say whether they were normal fights couples have or not. I couldn't even say what most of them were about except the ones that were about me. We only ate as a family on holidays. My father came home late so we kids ate without him. I do remember spending time with him in the evening before I went to bed so it couldn't have been that late. My own husband gets home a little later because of his job commute so we eat late every night. But home schooling has given us the ability to be more flexible than my Mom was able to be. We had school early the next day. As I got older, I remember my Father being home less and less and the fights seemed to intensify. I remember one night when I was thirteen. I could hear them yelling through the wall. My mom found me crying and I told her I didn't want them to get a divorce. She told me...
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