Guest author: Merin Minch
A note from Merin: I have been thinking and praying about posting my story for about three years now, but the Lord kept saying, “not yet.” The Lord has finally opened the door and my purpose in writing this is to express to all of you the journey of healing I have found through Christ. I desire to point to the faithfulness of God despite the brokenness of my past. We live in a world that runs to money, sex, and power to numb pain. However, the comfort I have found in the Lord, through my struggles and the redemption of Christ, is what gives me the grace to move forward knowing He is enough and is truly the only path to freedom and healing. I hope you will be encouraged by these words and that perhaps one of you will find the peace you have been seeking despite the pain. If this helps even just one person out there, then it is totally worth it. Please feel free to share, message, or contact me (firstname.lastname@example.org) if you have any questions!
My testimony has a rough beginning… but I want to tell you about the redemptive work that the Lord has done in my life and how He is so faithful and good.
It started when I was eleven years old and in the sixth grade. I was raised in a bustling household where many evangelists/missionaries would frequently stay and family and friends would gather just to hang out. Needless to say, there were always people at my house.
There was one man in particular that would come over often with his kids, and I remember him always chasing us around and playing with us… only he began interacting with me a bit differently than the other kids. It occurred several times over a span of six months, until one day, he walked into my bedroom, shut the door, and the unthinkable happened to me. I remember being frozen on the spot when this occurred. Even when I told him to stop, he wouldn’t. I remember trying to get away, but he had me trapped. After this incident, I stayed away from him as much as I could. I didn’t know what it was that was wrong – I just knew that
something wasn’t right.
Shortly after that last occurrence, six months from when the abuse started, my sister and I sat down with our mom and told her what happened. I didn’t give my mom any details (I was so ashamed about what happened), and she told me that while this was going to stop, we weren’t going to tell my dad. We were also not going to report this to the authorities. As someone raised in a male-dominant culture and mentality, my mom advised me with all she knew and instructed me to not tell anyone about this, as people would see me as “that girl,” “used,” and someone no one would want to marry.
So, for the next eight years, I forced myself to forget about the abuse, and shunted the pain of having to continue to see the abuser into my subconscious.
It was the next summer, when I was twelve years old that I truly gave my life to the Lord. I felt so dirty and unclean, not just from what had happened, but from all the internal sin I had within me. The fact that Jesus loved me enough to die for these sins so that I could forever be with Him brought tears to my eyes. The fact that Jesus wanted to KNOW me and cleanse me of my scars and my sins…
I longed to know this God,
and I walked with Him and spent time with Him to the best of my ability for the next four years of high school.