Ally shares her painful story of childhood sexual abuse, not to receive pity, but to testify of God's love. She realizes the Lord was always with her, even through the abuse, even when she tried to end her life. On the day she accepted God's gift of salvation, he completely changed her outlook. Before that day, she had lived with doubt, shame and anger. Now she lives with the light of hope in her heart. She knows God has a plan for her life. Now it's her time to dance.
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Ally's Time to Dance
Do you doubt God's love for you? Perhaps you doubt that he truly even exists? Are you lost, hurting, angry with God? Are you waiting for life's circumstances to be good before you give your heart to God? Do you feel God calling you to him, but you're scared or don't understand what you need to do? Let me tell you my story.When I was a young child I was sexually abused. The ordeal made me doubt there was a God or at least one that was loving. For I thought, "If there is a loving God, why doesn't he love me? Why would he allow me to be sexually abused?" Not by one man, but by two. Not once, but often. Not for days, weeks, or months, but for years.
I was a very good kid, so I didn't understand why. I asked God every why question known to man. I screamed, bargained, and pleaded with him. I cried myself to sleep at nights. "What am I suppose to believe? What am I suppose to have faith in? That God's going to fix this? That this is his will?" These were my thoughts because I didn't know what else to think.
Holding Me Together
Sometimes I didn't want to think about God. "What good has believing in God done for me?" This was my mindset, but I could never shake the feeling that there was something or someone out there holding me together.I would go from begging God to make the abuse stop to being so mad at him for allowing it to continue. At times I even believed I would experience a miracle, but most of the time I did not. More often I thought, "Why is this happening to me? Maybe if I could figure out a reason, maybe just maybe, I could take the abuse better."
These thoughts also surfaced: "If there truly is a God, how did this fit in his plans for me? How do I believe in God when I doubt God?" I would cry out and pray, "Lord I am alone and afraid, please help me. I'm waiting God. Tell me. What am I suppose to do next? I really need your help, Lord. Help me through this; I have no one to turn to. I am so scared and ashamed."
Asking For a Sign
I would ask God continuously to show me a sign that he was real and that he did love me. God showed me a sign every time, but I was so full of anger or perhaps too young to recognize them. Only once did I truly recognize that God had sent me a sign. Looking back, it seems really silly, but it was something that kept be going.I was in the fourth grade and was always in trouble for talking. The teacher sent me to my usual corner. In the corner that day I began to reflect on the past few days and how I had been touched inappropriately. I had one of those angry at God moments and I begged for God to show me a sign.
As I stood in that corner God revealed his sign. You know how you can look at the clouds and see shapes or objects. Well, within the chipped paint on the wall, I could see the face of Jesus. The rest of the year I found comfort in that corner because I believed God was there. I felt I could share my deepest secrets, desires, and thoughts to that visage within the chipped paint, and that got me through each day.
When I left the fourth grade, I found that my days did not get better. When I reached the sixth grade, the abuse was still happening and my life was worse than ever.
Feeling Alone
I was angry with myself for not telling someone about the abuse, but I couldn't dare. My abuser threatened me that if I ever told, great harm would come to me or to my parents. I felt very alone. I became so depressed that I thought about taking my own life on many occasions. I just wanted the pain, shame, and humiliation to stop.One time I came close to ending my life. I was in the bathroom, filling up the tub for my nightly bath. I was 12 years old. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I felt nothing for that person staring back at me. All I could see was pain, anger, shame, and maybe even hatred.
I opened up the medicine cabinet, not really sure why. I didn't have a headache. As soon as I did, there was my answer. I knew how I could no longer feel pain, shame, hatred. I grabbed a single razor blade and put it on the side of the tub. I made sure the bathroom door was locked as always. I climbed in the tub, washed up, and practiced in my mind how I was going to do this.
I was so scared, but the voices in my head were encouraging me, saying "Take your life. Do it Ally. Take your life. The pain will go away."
But then I also heard a different, more tender voice saying, "Ally, I love you. I have plans for you." It was as if this other voice was pleading. But I was to the point that there was no turning back. My state of mind was to go through with it. This would end all my pain.
As I pulled that razor blade to my wrist, that tender voice kept speaking to me. I began to get angry and emotional. Did I truly want to die? If this was the only way to end the pain, then yes. So, with one last appeal to God, I asked him to show me a sign. I asked for an indication that he was indeed real, and that this abuse would stop and stop soon. I told God to make it immediate and make it a sign that I would recognize.
Go to Page 2 of Ally's Time to Dance
