Children Forget The Rules–Watch This.

Children Forget The Rules–Watch This..

A Romanticized Rape: Mary Kay Letourneau and Vili

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoJIbt3ZMcAhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoJIbt3ZMcAhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kx0dfbv6mAwA Romanticized Rape: Mary Kay Letourneau and Vili. More

Child Abuse Hides In Plain Sight

Child Abuse Hides In Plain Sight.

If Something Doesn’t Seem Right, Do Something.

My mother refused to defend me against my father for years. Weekend mornings were always met by his demands. Within a few minutes she would witness, once again, her oldest, teen aged daughter lying next to her husband, but chose to do nothing about it.

Together We Can Heal

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Who is Judy C. Hope?

Earlier today, I was thinking about the fact that my life is merely one amidst an enormous population of baby-boomers.

That statement, in itself, isn’t too exciting. But, when you think about the impact survivors of abuse are making on the next generation, it’s pretty exciting to be a part of it.

My children are grown and as I type these words, my soon to be adopted grand-daughter is sleeping in my office, while I take up temporary residence at the end of my dining room table.

I wanted to share a story about a trip my husband I made to Oregon a little over three year ago. It was our last morning of snuggling in the cozy little cottage we like to call our Oregon home, nestled within a forest and the banks of the Sandy River. We had just finished watching Dr. Charles Stanley preach about our lives being lived out in order to bring honor and glory to God.

Within seconds, the Holy Spirit convicted my heart as to whether I was living my life for God, or not. That was when I sensed the Lord calling me to write my story in the form of a book.

While I was going through some of the darkest years of my life, friends repeatedly told me that I should write a book about being sexually abused by my father and how it affected my life over the years. Instead of giving some serious thought to such a monumental task, I dismissed it, believing that my life was no different than what other woman have suffered.

The next day I boarded my flight home to South Carolina, while my husband remained in Oregon to work from his company’s home office.

Three days later, I sat down in front of my laptop and second-story window to witness one of the most beautiful landscapes I’ve ever seen. Fall foliage still hung in the trees, appearing as if they had been brushed with myriad of tones: rusts, golden, reds, yellows, and greens; all intermingling, just in time for showers of leaves being picked up by an invisible wind, just to be pushed to the ground to form another splash of autumn bliss.

I could sense the Lord’s nearness, so I humbled my heart to pray, “God, I don’t know where to begin this task of writing a book.” I begged,” Please, be my Guide, let me know your presence, fill my mind with your peace, and give me the words that you want written.”

I pulled a blank, legal sized sheet of paper and began drawing a timeline of my life, in particular, my life from the time my dad began abusing me.

Today, I can clearly see how naïve I was then and I didn’t have a clue about what was happening in the world around me. I listened to the evening news reports about the Vietnam War my dad had just come home from. I guess you would say that I saw the world through rose-colored glasses, I felt safe, and had no issues with trusting those in authority, especially my parents.

It was the early 70’s and I saw myself as a free spirit. I still have some of those tendencies, but life has proven very different than what my dream world was all about back then.

My family unit consisted of my parents, two brothers, and three sisters. Once Dad came home from Vietnam we moved to his next duty station near Albany, Georgia. Actually, our days were like that of any other family in doing daily chores, a weekend drive-in movie, fishing and camping trips, and church, youth group activities.

I was living a normal, almost thirteen year old life. That is until my dad made the decision to cross a major moral boundary of molestation, then incest.

Something inside of me knew that I had been robbed of my virginity…

I cried out to God…but I couldn’t discern a response…

I lost trust in God and all mankind…

Although I believed that I was nobody…

God had other plans.

This is just a small portion of my story.

You may ask ‘Why are you telling me this?’

Because I wholeheartedly believe that He wants me to use my voice and testimony to be shared with other women who find themselves in similar situations and to somehow convey hope in the resources available to those who have been abused, or are being abused.

When you’re depressed to the point that you believe no one loves you, remember that God loves you. He knows the plans he has for you. You are not alone.

The purpose of my blog is to be a willing vessel for God to touch lives through a testimony that leaves you in awe over how awesome our God is, and how He can completely transform your life!

To be continued…

An excerpt from Made New…

…the essential question for somebody who’s been
abused: ‘How could I possibly forgive my abuser, especially someone
who abused me for so many years?’”
In the last few years, I’ve discovered that I can truly trust what
God’s Word promises to those who call him Savior; namely, that Jesus
loves his children unconditionally. He knows we’re sinners in need of
his mercy and grace, and without him, we’re completely lost.
Jesus relates a story in Matthew 19:26, following his encounter with
the rich young ruler. Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is

impossible, but with God all things are possible!”

Most of us have heard the poem “Footprints in the Sand” by Mary
Stevenson. The poem recounts a conversation when a child of God asks
something like this, “God, why is it that during the hardest and most
difficult times of my life and during my most painful experiences there
are only one set of footprints and not two?” God lovingly answered,
“Because, my sweet child, that was when I carried you.”
Come back with me to the difficult years of my life as I recollect a
tragic, heart-wrenching journey, as well as many celebratory moments,
when I was becoming Made New…

Do you have a story about the moment God stepped into your life, literally

transforming you into a person you never thought you could be?

My testimony is proof positive that God still changes lives! If he could

take my messy life and make it into a life that seeks to glorify and honor Him

with the days he’s given me, that’s what I’m going to do.

Praise God from who all blessings flow,

Praise Him all creatures here below,

Praise Him above ye Heavenly Hosts,

Praise God, the Son, the Holy Ghost.  

Please share your story with me. I would love to hear from you.

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