redeeming sex

I was a beautiful child.  As such, I was invited to sit on the laps of men while they visited at my parents' house.  I never really wanted to but sensed from my parents that I had to accommodate our guests.  I was touched and used as a rubbing post often.  

So there was my role in childhood---a sexual play thing for men.  

But it started even before then; I don’t actually remember when.  I know I witnessed the sexual abuse of my sisters by our uncle while I was in the crib.  Then my uncle started with me when I was 6 or 7 and continued until I was 16 years old.  I was a very angry and rebellious adolescent; rebellion empowered me to confront him in the act.  He stopped.  I won, so I thought.  Little did I know the bondage sexual abuse had on the soul.

My first sexual intercourse encounter was when I was 13 years old.  I was raped.  Funny how I never considered it rape.  I did say no, but no wasn't an option.  So I obliged, naturally.  Isn't that what girls were for?  Thereafter, I was unable to say no to any other advances that came my way.  I was filled with so much shame.  I remember considering becoming a prostitute, thinking it was all I could do.  I thought so little of myself and even less of men. 

I met Jesus at age 18.  When I became a Christian, I really didn’t think believers even had sex at all.  I thought when I gave my life to God I was going to be a nun; a Baptist nun.  And I would never ever have to oblige another man with sex again.  But God knew that all my experiences with sex needed to be redeemed.  And God had chosen the perfect person to walk this path with me.  This man loved me so gently and completely.  I dare say he was unaware of the deep brokenness I cradled in my soul when he married me, but he never once made me feel ashamed, broken, or ugly.  He holds the key to my ongoing healing.   

Of all wounds, it is the sexual wounds that reach deep within and affect the very essence of our womanhood.  Each of us must tend to our own past, nurse our own wounds, and confess our own brokenness.  It is our process, our journey, which then becomes our story.  Wonderful stories that meanders through the changes and seasons of our lives.  And as we share them, shame is released and healing comes.

What was once broken is now made whole: Redemption happens.