On Day Nine, which would have been yesterday-not today, I was suppose to post a picture of the person that got me through the most. I have two people. In 1999, my sister told me that she was moving to Fredericksburg. She also told me that I would have to take on a responsibility here that would mean caring for someone that had hurt me tremendously. I couldn't handle the news! I fell apart. Cindy Phillips and Debbie Thurman both saw how upset I was.
Cindy was the wife of my Sunday School teacher and had herself been a victim of abuse. She often spoke of forgiving her abuser, something which I could not fathom, especially since my abuser doesn't think any wrong has ever been committed. In fact, Cindy told me that when I confided to her something in my demeanor frightened her. In high school I often contemplated suicide and in college attempted it twice. At the time I spoke to Cindy the thought of killing myself had not popped up again, but I am sure it would not have taken long to do so.
Debbie was a published author of a book on depression. Since she was in Sunday School with me, I asked if I could read her book. I was hoping it would help me understand the person with whom I didn't get along with. Instead, it seemed to be about me. Debbie asked me after I read the book, what my thoughts were. I sent her an email. I intended to use the email as a catharsis; I put every horrible thought about the person that hurt me in that email. I intended to delete the message after writing and send out a proper "it-was-very-interesting-good-job" email. Somehow, instead of hitting delete, I hit send and Debbie got a message in which I puked up every emotion associated with my abuser. It didn't take long for Debbie to call me.
Cindy and Debbie both convinced me to seek counseling and after six months of this, I graduated to a support group in Freedom Ministries. My abuse had made me a bitter rage-aholic. With the push from two dear friends, I was shown how much my Savior loves me.
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