Does He Really Hear Me?

Fourteen and innocent, life was never easy. From raising my younger brother, to managing bills, dinner, and basically any wifely/motherly duties, life for me as a 14-year-old girl was from far from average. Being raised in a "God fearing" family I knew in my mind that the way I lived wasn't normal, or right. But still I said nothing. His voice in my mind with that heart wrenching threat that I swore at the time I would take to the grave. Everyone around me could see the issues but wouldn't dare ask questions because they too feared what might come from questioning his "intentions."

I remember the first time so vividly, even today, nine years later. Him grabbing me where no "father" ever should. His cold words in my ear, "If you make a peep or ever say a word about this, I will kill you." Frozen in my steps, I felt I had no choice but to let it happen. Fourteen years old and taught from an early age to respect my elders, never backtalk, listen the first time, and to be the person every day that God wanted me to be. The only thing going through my head was desperate silent screams to God to make it stop. But could he even hear me?

Time and time again these assaults happened, and time and time again I prayed to God to make it stop. I pleaded and begged and racked my mind wonder why. Why me, why is the one thing that's not supposed to let me down nowhere to be found? This went on for close to five years. I pushed through the emotional and physical pain to graduate high school at the top of my class. I worked the only job he allowed and saved every penny so I could go to school so I could financially support myself. And I did it. I put myself through a tech program and got a decent paying job. I was so close to escaping and he knew it. He followed me to work, took my paychecks as much as he could and tried to continue to control me, until I finally found the courage one day to end it.

I found the love of my life at an emergency room nurse's station, and I knew if I didn't make a stand for myself he would slip away. So I left. It wasn't easy, but I did. And the threats got worse, they went from being just to me, to the man I was with. I prayed every night that it would finally be over, but God failed me again.

It took almost two years for the harassments to stop, but after police involvement thankfully, life was finally peaceful. Life was peaceful, but my mind was running wild. Pregnant with a precious baby girl, I knew how I wanted to raise her. I knew I wanted to raise my children to love our God and all that he does for us, but in my heart I feared I could never do that. He had failed me in my most desperate times, and I feared I would never get over that.

Sadly, four years of wonderful marriage and two beautiful, healthy children, my fears are still there. I am thankful for all God has provided for my family and me, but my faith in God is still skewed. I want nothing more than to teach my children about God and all of his glory, but my heart is still not in the right place for that, and I still question every day if God can truly hear me when I need him.