Tag: Abuse

by Beth Swain   Relieved, I watched the counselor gather his papers without asking me that dreaded question. Then, as if an afterthought, he asked, “Oh, was there any sexual abuse?” There it was. “You mean with me?” I asked, attempting a casual facade. Still, my quivering voice betrayed me. “Yes, with you.” His kind…

What can we do about this modern crisis? by Jill Davis   Remember the H1N1 flu virus that President Barack Obama called a national emergency in the fall of 2009? Once 1,000 people died from the disease, the World Health Organization warned of a worldwide pandemic. Our health care system quickly mobilized as the public…

Understanding past and present influencesto find freedom for the future. by Muriel Larson   My dedicated Christian friend, Melissa*, told me, “The memory of that awful experience when I was four has been indelibly seared into my mind; I have relived it again and again. It has profoundly affected my whole life. It is the…

The suffering of Christ gives newmeaning to a suffering man. by Douglas Hainer as told to Marguerite Tustan   My earliest memory is being struck in the head with the butt of a rifle. It was my fourth birthday. My older sister, jealous of the attention I was receiving, hit me so hard that I…

Finding forgiveness for the deepest hurts.  by Shirley A. Reynolds   On a concrete bench in a mausoleum courtyard, I tried to muster courage. Shaking my fist at the foliage, I said, “I’m not leaving until I’ve emptied my heart of this anger toward my mother.” Oh Mama, I thought. Why did you use a…

A new adventure of biblical truth. by Betty Smith   Sixteen-year-old Angela struggled to find the chord among the piano keys. She pressed a combination. The sound made me cringe. “It’s okay,” I assured her. As I reached for the keyboard, I felt my heart quickening. My hand trembled as it hovered over the keys….

Singing, serving, smiling — but looks can be deceiving. by Don Cox as told to Muriel Larson   In my home, I was the king; my family members were the peasants. At least that was the way I saw things. Whenever there was the slightest resistance to my will, my violent temper could assert itself….

When ignorance isn’t bliss. by Bette Nordberg   When Nita moved in across the street, Susan was delighted to find that her new neighbor was also a full-time mom. Over time their friendship grew to include carpooling duties and occasional morning coffee. Though Susan had never known anyone in a violent relationship, it wasn’t long…