I was a victim.

At eight years old how can you be anything other than a victim? Kids can’t defend themselves.  They can’t fight back.  They can only run away or run inside themselves.

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I don’t need to judge them.  That’s not my place.  But I know the pain that they’ve caused.  Not just by their actions, not just by the abuse through rape, molestation.

The pain of silence.  The pain of manipulation.  The pain of sin; if we can use that word without causing a stir.  Hell, let’s cause a stir.

I don’t trust easily.  I find that I will give you a good bit of trust in the beginning, but why should I trust any man, any person, any human who might ultimately take me back to the hurt I experienced as a child again?  Especially those who use their influence, their status, their power to control.

I’m sad.  For the hundreds, maybe even more that have had their stories pushed down because those specific churches and executive leaders didn’t want the truth to be known.  It’s not just about the allegations and the pain of the initial hurt. It’s the lies, it’s the sentence that has already been laid out on those who were victims. Who have to fight to try to find a life amidst the power struggle that has been going for over 40 years.  How do I know this?  Because I experienced it.

And there’s not a safe place to run.  Because at that point, whether a child, a teen or even an adult, you’re not safe.  You don’t feel safe.  You feel demonized, broken, less than whole.

Less than whole.

And you know what, my heart never stopped seeking God.  Even amidst the lies and betrayal within those buildings that I saw oh, so evidently, I still wanted my father.  My God.

So in the wake of the scandal that has been unearthed in the last days of one nation’s largest group of Christians, I am sad.  I will pray, grieve for them in my own way.  And I am thankful.  To be a survivor; to have been able to walk through the mess (of my life after) and to finally have found my footing after so many years.

It stings today, but I don’t shrivel up like a ball anymore.  I won’t walk away from God just because man has so torn mine and other souls asunder.  I am not a victim ANYMORE.  What happened to me was terrible, tragic, and it is part of my story.  And without my story I’m nothing.  

I had to let go.  I’m not asking any of the victims to be quiet.  Speak your truth.  But at some point the only way to move forward is to let go.  Sure, the Southern Baptist church needs to answer - and I hope they close their doors.  Honestly, I hate to say that because I know my father loves that organization so much.  But I do pray for a reckoning.*

And for peace.  For peace within the hearts of the victims.  And yes, for peace within those who have used their power inappropriately.  We are all fallen creatures.

I truly hope that the cries of those who have suffered becomes a calling point to where there will be no more silence.  Only truth.

~ Peace

The Burtle

* I know the church is made up of many good people. That there are believers all over the world just like me; jaded, fallen, scraping-by for life and still truly believe that there’s a God who is all-powerful, who can touch and heal even the deepest hurts.