The following guest post was written by a pastor friend, Conrad, a brave and loving man who has been open about sharing from his own heart and struggles.
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I am one of you. I didn’t know it. But I always took an interest in your story. The violence you suffered as a young boy in Haiti touched my heart. Not in a vengeful way. But in a way that felt your pain. Theo Fleury, your story intrigued me, those penetrating eyes in your face on the cover of your book. What was your story? Was there violent damage too? Dennis Jernigan, your story always touches me. How Jesus loved you no matter the sin and abuse you struggled with.
But I didn’t know why your stories touched me. I couldn’t relate to them, after all. I grew up in a Mennonite home. I went to a Mennonite school and a Mennonite church. Life was quiet. On the surface. Inside, it was chaotic. My parents did the right thing in repairing their marriage after adultery. I was and still am proud of them for that. At the time, I cried with no tears. The connection between my head and my heart separated. At eleven years old.
Later in life, I married. We were blessed. A few years later, with my wife by my side and two young boys in attendance, I was ordained a deacon. Life became stressful. Our furniture business prospered quicker than I could adjust to it. Church leadership stress was overwhelming. The gap between my head and my heart became greater. And I had a mental breakdown in 2008. My wife and I accepted help. And there was healing. I reveled in the love of God. I preached the love of God. I wanted to learn all about the God that I had missed out on before. It was an exciting path. I am still on that path.
But there was still something missing. The stresses of life needed more answers than I had.
Denise and I visited with a pastor friend. Before going home, he said “Conrad, God cares about you. He has a plan for you. But I need to show you that. You’re thinking ‘That is just a bunch of words.’ I prayed ‘How can I show Conrad that this is true?’ So I want to show you.’”
He came over to me. I could guess what was coming. But I felt myself freezing. He motioned to me, I stood, and we embraced. He held me in a bear hug. He wouldn’t let me go. I cried. God spoke to me.
We went home that day thankful for a helper friend to discern God’s will in meeting our needs.
Could I write down all the events that had a contribution in shaping me? Little or big.
Should I include two embarrassing sexual events that were done to me as a young boy? Why not? I never talked about this with anyone, other than mentioning it to my wife. Why not see what the pastor would say about it?
The next morning, I initiated the bear hug with my pastor friend. He was happy to return it. He later asked me, “Why the hug this morning?” Because it just felt right. “I never had anyone in my office initiate a hug before in 22 years of helping people. Our hug yesterday must have meant a lot to you.” Yes, pastor.
The pastor saw what I had written about the two sexual events that morning. He looked at me with a hint of shock “You were sexually abused!” I suppose so. If you say so. I never thought of it that way. Yeah, I guess.
“I do want to affirm you as a man of God. You are loved unconditionally by God,” he said firmly.
“Here, check off all that you felt when that was happening.”
In about 60 seconds I checked off about 12 feeling words. Words like “Helpless” “Vulnerable” “Defenseless”. Yeah, that was me. It was freeing to actually admit how I felt as a young boy. I hadn’t even thought to tell my parents about it.
The third day we visited, we prayed about this abuse. I understood my pastor friend was taking it seriously. I prayed: “Jesus, did you feel the pain of this little boy when this was happening?” Yes, I was there, right by you. “Why didn’t you stop it?” I did, it didn’t happen again or go any further. “Jesus did you care that I felt helpless? Jesus did you care that I felt defenseless? Jesus did you care that I felt dirty?”
Yes, my son. I was crying the tears you couldn’t cry.
Now I was crying. Especially at the “Helpless” mention. I wished I could have reacted with a firm angry response as a young boy. But I hadn’t. I’d hated myself for not doing what I wished I had.
I’d stuffed it all down. For over 30 years, I didn’t think much about it.
Jesus gave me a picture of my heart as that little boy. It was a shriveled small heart.
It was a heart that became further disconnected from my head.
A heart that is disconnected does not make a good heart for a husband, or for a father, or for a friend, or for a deacon. I was disconnected from who Jesus really meant me to be.
All this I now understood. I forgave my offenders. I pray they have found healing too. Jesus, it was meant for selfish evil. But You can turn it into something good. Only You can do that.
“Jesus, would you pull the pain out of my heart and heal it?”
Yes, I will. I could feel the pain draining away.
Peace came. Along with a picture of an ocean. I could see Jesus dumping the pain in the ocean. And the ocean that once was stormy became calm.
I had peace in the deeper part of my heart. It was a heart I didn’t know I had. All that I had learned about God, His love and mercy and forgiveness was now connected to a healed heart.
I didn’t know I was disconnected before as a husband. I didn’t know I was disconnected as a church leader. I didn’t know I was disconnected as a father. I was disconnected. But not anymore.
We went home free, healed, and grateful to Jesus the Healer. But not before giving the pastor a hug.
I was amazed. I didn’t know I was a sexual abuse survivor. I didn’t know I had a connection with you.
I don’t like the word survivor though. I am healed. I am a victor.
Jesus loves to heal. When His Words are put right into our heart, He does the healing. Our pastor called it open heart surgery, without anaesthetic. It brought lots of tears. And it hurt so good.
Our marriage has a fullness it never had before. The next day, our last visit, my wife wore a “going out dating” dress. My favorite one for her.
We prayed together. We hugged the pastor with a goodbye hug. And Denise received a Daddy hug too.
I am one of you. I would love to meet you. On behalf of Jesus, I will give you a hug.
Isa 42: 3 A bruised reed He will not break
And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish;
He will faithfully bring forth justice.
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Conrad has written on this blog before. You can read of his heartbreak as a young boy over his parents’ marriage struggles in “Life’s Hard Lessons: As Learned through my Parent’s Marriage Struggles,” and about his mental breakdown and healing in “Life’s Hard Lessons: As Learned through my Mental Breakdown.”
This post joins a series I call In Every Life a Story. I publish a new post in this series every 6 weeks or so. Do you have a story or know of someone who has a story to encourage or challenge others? Contact me at lucindajkinsinger@gmail.com. Although many stories will feature Christian themes, I hope to hear from people of many faiths and persuasions. Whoever you are, please get in touch.