Sexual abuse is in the headlines a lot. Here is my story. There is bad news and then wonderful news. Read to the end!
My six-year-old heart was about to pound out of my chest. There I was sitting in the middle of a field of kudzu vines, seen by no one and heard by no one. My tears poured down my face as I recalled the trauma that I had just experienced.
It was a Saturday, and on this Saturday my mother had gone somewhere for a few hours. My mom was a very caring woman, who had lived in a difficult marriage. I don’t recall where Mom was that day, but I’m sure she walked there, because we didn’t own a car. That left me home alone with my father for several hours.
As a sat on the floor of the bedroom playing, I could hear my drunk father snoring loudly as he napped. After a few minutes, the snoring stopped. My father stumbled to the room where I was playing and changed my life forever. Sexual abuse began at age six. I was robbed of my innocence, my security, and my safety.
Once I was out of his grasp, I ran out the door, and I ran and ran and ran. I ended up in a field of kudzu, shaking and shaken. My emotions were ransacked and strewn in a plethora of directions. It was as if my very soul had been snatched from me.
For many years, I suffered through fear and anxiety. I had nowhere to go. Living under the same roof with a drunken abuser was my only choice. For many, many years I lived with anger, anxiety, fear, and depression as I carried my childhood with me everywhere I went. I tried to wish it away or act as if it never happened. I failed miserably.
I accepted Jesus Christ at age seventeen, went to a Christian university, and married a wonderful man. That did not fix my brokenness. I was saved, but not healed. Around age thirty, completely broken, filled with anger, and in a dark place, I called out to Jehovah Rapha, the God who heals. The Lord heard my cry, and His Spirit swept over my crushed spirit. That day began a healing journey in my life. It has definitely been a journey and not an overnight trip. It has been worth every step of the journey! I am a testimony of the healing, life-changing power of Jesus Christ.
Let’s fast forward sixty years. I am now a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a Bible teacher, and a healed person! I was “used” by my father, but I am now used by my Father God. I once sat in a field of tears. I now sit in a field of dreams and hope.
Obviously in a short blog, I can’t give a lot of detail of the process God brought me through. I can’t promise everything will be healed instantaneously. I do want to say, “God sees your pain. God sees your isolation. God sees your dark place.” I also want to say, “God has healing for you. God has hope for you. God has a wonderful life for you.”
To the Church, I say, “Let’s become healing agents for those who have been wounded by sexual abuse.” This subject is a big news topic today, and the Church should lead the way for healing. Let there be a safe, non-judgmental place for healing to occur. A sexually wounded person can’t just be told, “Get over it!” They need patient healers to help them navigate the treacherous waters of walking from wound to healing. As a church, we must train people to help with the healing of sexual wounds. If I had only had people who knew how to help me, I know healing would have come in a more timely fashion. Offer healing to the sexually wounded. Bring in speakers to address the healing power of Jesus Christ. Church, rise up!
Jesus won the victory over all the sins we have committed, and all the sins that have been committed against us. The good news is that the wounds of life do not have to define us. We can be defined by the new life that Jesus Christ offers us.
I repeat, “I am now a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a Bible teacher, and a healed person! I was “used” by my father, but I am now used by my God. I once sat in a field of tears. I now sit in a field of dreams and hope.”
God has a field of healing for you!
“The Lord is a shelter for the oppressed, a refuge in times of trouble. Those who know your name trust in you, for you, O Lord, do not abandon those who search for you.” Psalm 9:9-10
On September 25, 1951, a baby girl was born into an impoverished, dysfunctional environment. She was the eighth child in the family, where the oldest was only twelve years old at the time. The house only had running water in a sink on the back porch, and it only provided cold water. I can’t even imagine living that way now, but I was that little baby.
After a scarring childhood and painful upbringing, I gave my life to Jesus Christ and set out to attend a Christian college. I certainly worked on obeying the “rules” of Christianity, and I was determined to be a strong Christian who walked with God. I was saved and on my way to fulfilling my destiny. I was definitely saved by the grace of God, busy for God, but not transformed by God!

While growing up I was poor, dysfunctional and very chubby! This awareness did not come to me until I entered first grade. Even at age six, it did not take long to figure out others did not want to be around me so much. It did not take long to figure out that I did not have clothes and shoes as good as the majority of kids in my school. I learned first-hand the pain of feeling less than because I was overweight. Often, I was the subject of many jokes especially from guys.
“Hello, God. It’s me again. You know, your servant Barbara Benton. I’m checking in again because it seems like you are not responding.”
Madison Benton will be fifteen years old in July. Her birth brought much joy and ushered in a great era for us. Being grandparents is something we enjoy beyond description.
I lost a child. Now what?