What the Enemy intends for evil God uses for good. by Tammy Murray
The phone call came early and unexpected. I listened while the director of the Justice Center recounted the details. Never in their twenty-seven years had the police seen anything so brutal — horrendous injury done to body and soul. “Can you come?” she said.
Without hesitancy, I quietly responded, “Tell me when and where.”
Journal entry
Earlier that morning, I recorded in my journal words that resonated with my heart. They were more than words; they were life:
To burn brightly, our lives must first experience the flame . . . we cease to bless others when we cease to bleed.
I am no counselor, licensed social worker, clergy, or practicing physician. I am one woman who survived a violent attack.
My soul was broken, bruised, and bleeding, but not left to die. One had gone before me, knowing and feeling my pain: Man of sorrows, Carpenter on a cross, Lamb led to the slaughter, wounded Healer. Jesus.
Peace and pain
My heart thundered when three officers met me at the door. Inside I would find the victim — a young woman beaten with a bat over the course of two days, strangled, barely alive.
I knew I had been chosen, a life burning bright. Not walking alone, I entered the room where God’s peace washed over me like a calm, flowing stream, evoking tenderness from a heart that bled for another.
Swollen black and blue eyes reflected back into mine. Shallow breathes masked broken ribs. My prayer was silent and desperate: Jesus, may she see Your love through me!
Vulnerability
Years earlier, after graduating from a small-town university, I became disillusioned when my friends married and my dating life hit rock bottom. Low self-esteem, coupled with frantic failure as a potential dating partner, sent me into a tailspin of depression. I became a desperate mess, unknowingly vulnerable to a smooth-talking predator.
I worked as a server in an upscale restaurant where I met a lot of people. One particular man, a regular, knew the staff and they knew him. Handsome and charming, he displayed an aura of wealth and professionalism. Later, I came to find out his modus operandi was to quietly observe the new girls and then put his plan into place.
First date
One evening, soft music and candlelight gave the restaurant a romantic ambiance when I took his order. Words, sweet as honey, filled my longing soul. Poetically, I was wooed and desired more. At the end of the meal, he asked for my cell number, and I eagerly complied.
We met at an Italian restaurant for our first date. My heart fluttered when he greeted me with a bouquet of red roses. He told me I was beautiful. From then on, I was like putty in his hands. We began dating exclusively, and I was on clouds of love.
Control
However, as time went by, the man became jealous when I spent time with friends, family, or co-workers, so I spent more time with him and less with them. He asked me to lose weight and monitored what I ate and the clothes I wore.
He’d remind me how lucky I was to have a man like him and that no one could love me more that he did. Unfortunately, I believed him and was willing to conform to his wishes. I gave all of myself to him: my heart, body, and soul.
Frightening confrontation
It had been a few months since I’d seen a movie with a girlfriend. We spent an enjoyable evening together, and I felt alive and carefree. When I got home past midnight, I was surprised to see his car parked across the street with him waiting inside.
Excited, I approached his window to tell him about the fun evening. Rage swept across his face like a wild animal. With stealth, he got out of the car and accused me of being with another man.
Physical abuse
The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, holding the right side of my face where he’d hit me. I held onto the car door and slowly stood up. Then he balled his fist and hit me on the left side of my face. I fell so hard, my shoes flew off from the force of his blow.
Stunned, I cried out, “Why did you hit me?”
“I wouldn’t have hit you if you hadn’t made me mad,” he yelled. “You deserved everything you got!”
He climbed back into his car and spun away, leaving me alone and bleeding on the street.
Confusion and hope
Looking back, I wish I’d had the courage to call the police and file a report, but I didn’t. I felt embarrassed and thought I was to blame for his anger. I questioned myself, wondering if I deserved the beating. Sadly, I didn’t tell anyone what happened.
Because I didn’t return his phone calls, flowers were delivered a week later with a note asking forgiveness. He was willing for us to see a counselor if I would return to the relationship. I believed him and felt hopeful for our future.
Rage
We never saw a counselor. Our relationship seemed to get better until I fixed dinner for him and his roommate at his house. Once we were alone, he became enraged that I had paid more attention to his roommate than to him.
Food and pans went flying through the kitchen, and I feared I’d be next. Instinct told me to get out as soon as possible. I calmly apologized, cleaned up the mess, and left.
Pursuing healing
Soon after, a server approached me at work and asked if I was okay. She was concerned after observing my bubbly personality change into a skittish mouse. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a business card and asked me to read it when I had time.
That card led me to Safe Place Ministries and became my lifeline. Jesus became my lifeline. With help, support, and safety, I began to see I was in an abusive relationship that would only get worse if I stayed. Domestic violence advocates and counselors walked with me through risk assessments and the cycle of abuse. With new awareness, courage, and a determination to live, I ended the relationship.
Power of comfort
As time went by, I saw that God wastes no pain. I began volunteering at the local Justice Center, and, over the course of three years, was asked to join the staff.
There is tremendous power in brokenness; comfort flows from it. I knew from experience God’s compassion, gracious healing, and restoration, and saw the truth in Paul’s words:
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God (2 Corinthians 1:3, 4, NIV).
Redeeming love
Time stood still like a breezeless morn when I met with the victim. She recounted the last few days of her life — gruesome and inhumane. I became an extension of Christ: His hands, His feet, His touch, His voice, His blessing.
Light resonated. Darkness dissipated. Permeating to the very marrow of my being was God’s redemptive, transforming love. What was meant for evil in my life God turned to good. If I had not known the injury done to my body and soul, I would have never known beauty created from ashes, a tender touch from hurtful hands, courage from fear, a precious aroma from the crushing of a rose.
As I stood to leave, she asked for a hug. I gently wrapped my arms around her, caressed her silky hair, and cupped her face in my hand. Tenderly loving from one bleeding heart to another.
Resources
Safe Place Ministries
www.safeplaceministries.com
Family Justice Center
www.familyjusticecenter.org
Tammy Murray writes non-fiction stories for adults and has been published in War Cry, Gem, Toastmaster, Idaho Press Tribune, Urban Liaison, Goldmine, and Swallow’s Nest. She is a member of Cascade Christian Writers and Idahope Christian Writers. Tammy lives in Meridian, ID. Connect with her on her website (www.tammymurray.com) and on her Facebook page.