It’s an odd thing: to be in a space that feels all too familiar, but you’re not the same person you were back then. You’ve grown, you’ve picked up some tools along the way, but here you are again. Same pain, similar story, different location.  

But this ending will be different than the last one.

You can have your silence back. I’m finding my voice again. I’m taking back the pen.

I’m a verbal processor, though sometimes writing is my best outlet. And for the last six months, I’ve put that helpful action on hold. I hid behind motherhood and summer break, but I’m curious if I didn’t feel empowered to order my priorities how I wanted.

One of the biggest hurts from the past six months: feeling like my voice, my writing, have been taken from me. Instead of writing and sharing with others through my pain, I’ve gone quiet, been silent. From blogging fairly consistently on a weekly basis for years, to taking six entire months off. I blamed my son, but maybe it was something else entirely. Maybe it was the weight of performance, the busyness of the season, and the burden of spiritual abuse.

As I write this, a timely lyric starts to play in the background…

“You’re gonna hear me roar…” – Katy Perry

It’s time.

Every season has hard parts. There are pockets of joy and comfort to be embraced, but on this earth, there will always be trouble. This new chapter, this beginning of this new season… I’m struggling to find the way forward. I feel small, insignificant, unworthy – and I realize I despise it.

Webster’s definition of despise: “to look down on with disrespect or aversion; to regard as negligible, worthless, or distasteful.”

“For whoever has despised the day of small things [beginnings] shall rejoice and shall see the plumb line in the hand of Zerubbabel. These seven are the eyes of the Lord, which range through the whole earth.” – Zechariah 4:10

Rejoice here means: “brighten up, be blithe or gleesome.” (Blue Letter Bible)

There is no guilt or shame or condemnation in Jesus. God sees, and He loves. Despising turns to brightening and rejoicing when I fix my eyes on Him.

We may be exiles, wandering. But we trust God’s plan. We trust that this detour has a purpose, that beauty will come from these ashes. That what the enemy intended for evil, God will turn to the good.

Our silence isn’t for sale. Our feet are firmly planted on our foundation. And with time, our songs and our truth will only get louder.

January is Spiritual Abuse Awareness Month. Here are some resources that have helped me on my journey:

• Something’s Not Right by Wade Mullen
• When Narcissism Comes to Church by Chuck DeGroat
• Faith That Hurts, Faith That Heals by Stephen Arterburn & Jack Felton
• The Subtle Power of Spiritual Abuse by David Johnson & Jeff VanVonderen
• I Guess I Haven’t Learned That Yet by Shauna Niequist