There is a very good chance that you walked past someone in church last Sunday who has been sexually assaulted—but has never shared that with anyone. According to the Department of Justice, one in four women, and one in six men, are sexually abused in their lifetime. Throughout almost four decades of ministry, I’ve found that most people hide their abuse, are ashamed, and often blame themselves. They are the silent sufferers.
For several years, I was (and still can be) a hypocrite. I could read, study, talk about, and even teach the Word of God—thinking I was living out what I professed—while all the time I was actually living as a hypocrite.
Still the nightmares come. She knows the Word better than most. She’s committed to Christ—wants to live as a faithful woman of God—but her heart is weary and doubts assail her as the onslaught of horrific memories and pain continues . . . for years. For decades. And I want to be more than just a praying friend. I want to “fix it,” but I don’t have that power. Only One does.