I’m a girl just like you.
I do my best to raise my children. To excel at my job. To take care of my home. To be a good friend, daughter, sister, and aunt.
I’m also a Christian.
For some reason, that last fact seems to trump everything else when I reach my breaking point of having enough.
As if the things that happen in a Christian’s life should all be negated the day they break bad and lose their cool.
Just like happened to me a few days ago.
Maybe you know, or it’s more likely that you don’t, that I’ve spent the last two-and-a-half years of my life living in fear. I’ve been stalked. And harassed. And berated on a daily basis. I’ve been humiliated. And lied about. And taunted. My property and the property of those I care about have been damaged. Other women in my life have been targeted. My children have suffered emotionally to no end.
All to show me that this other person wants to harm me more than they want anything else in their life:
More than they want a relationship with others who are close to me.
More than they want to be an upstanding person.
More than they want to stay on the right side of the law.
More than they want to move on from their past.
And yet, it seems to come as a surprise to some, that I would reach a breaking point. That I would fight back. That I would send a scathing, curse-word filled, message to this person on behalf of someone I love, simply trying to protect my child.
As I sat in court this week and heard of lawyers who laughed at my status as a Christian because of my behavior and choice of words in this message, as I watched them and the person who wants to harm me poke each other at the idea that I’m a fraud, as I listened to a DA imply that I was doing things out of sheer ridiculousness instead of actually trying to stop this person from harming me . . .
It stunned me.
As if there was anything left to be done to me that hasn’t already been done.
Because regardless of what I’m going through, and how I react, despite the lies being told, and the victim status I begrudgingly hold,
I am first, foremost, and always, a woman of God.
Even when I fail.
Even when I don’t feel like I am.
Even when my mind is so broken and fragmented in my circumstances that I can barely remember Him.
Even when I break bad and curse at my accusers.
And there’s nothing they can do to change that. No amount of poking fun at my expense. No amount of telling me I’m not a Christian because I’m not acting like a godly woman when I stand up for myself. No amount of shaming me, or scaring me, or threats to expose me will change that.
I am a woman of God.
And I cling to the fact that my God was a man of strength and character. A man who fought for those who were wronged. A man who showed his anger. A man who taught that his followers would all be mocked at his expense. A man who picked up those who made the most heinous mistakes in life, brushed them off, and asked them to follow Him anyway.
That He fights for me, when I can no longer gather the strength to fight for myself.
That He loves me no matter what I say or do.
That He is my biggest supporter as my accusers face me.
And, He is yours as well.
I know there are others whose faith has been questioned in an attempt to tear them down.
I know you’re out there in a boat beside me, riding through this hurricane as well.
You’ve reached out for help only to be shamed, or treated like a bothersome gnat, or simply ignored.
You’ve reached your breaking point, only to have your accusers then try to steal the last remaining thing you cling to in your life—your place alongside God.
And I see you, sweet friend.
God sees you as well.
So stand firm in the truth that He won’t back away like the others. He won’t believe the lies like the others. He won’t leave you in this mess like the others.
He is yours and you are His. No matter what.
Because we are women of God.
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