My Story Part One
My husband and I have eight children, three daughters and five sons. In 1999 we learned that our four oldest sons were being sexually abused by their paternal grandfather. My husband immediately confronted his father and rapidly stopped this activity. The children were never allowed to spend time alone with their grandparents again. We would later learn that the damage had been done. My husband’s mother never believed that this abuse occurred. Until her death, she believed we were making this up just to hurt them. In 2010 Grandpa went to his grave without directly confessing or repenting, nor did he do anything to heal this gaping wound. In fact, until his death, he referred to what he had done as “a game”. This angered my family, particularly my sons, who remain upset with their grandfather.
In 2013, the damage began to surface. One by one, the three youngest of our four sons confided that they experienced same-sex attraction. They were fearful and grieving, and we quickly realized that their needs were beyond what we confidently knew how to meet. Then, as now, we listen, offer hugs, and remind them they are family and are loved. My husband helps with car repairs, we affirm the positives in their lives, meet their friends, and avoid preaching or shaming. We have never tried to change them or play the role of the Holy Spirit.
That same year, we faced even more challenges. My mother, who was terminally ill, passed away in March. I had been her primary caretaker and was responsible for emptying her apartment. Amidst this, we were also being transferred from Kansas to Oklahoma City. Our household became a hotbed of emotion—from the surfacing abuse and its impact on the siblings to the grief of losing my mother and the stress of moving. I was overwhelmed. Every day, I told God that all of this was too hard for me, but not too hard for Him. I clung to that truth with every breath and just kept doing the next thing.
My Story Part Two
In approximately 1968, at the age of 10, my 17-year-old brother sexually abused me more than once while babysitting when my parents were away. I hated it when he babysat me. He was a star football player, strong, and easily overpowered me. I would fight back, but his strength was too much for me. Because I fought back, he would threaten to hurt me if I didn’t cooperate or if I told anyone. I knew he could. I knew he would. For over 40 years I never told anyone except my husband. During this abuse, my father and brother were having a lot of verbal and physical conflict. I would hide behind a chair and my mother would be sobbing and begging them to stop and not kill one another. As a result, I was terrified that if I told my dad, he might kill my brother and end up in prison. Then, where would that leave my sister and me, with a mother who didn’t drive and was paralyzed by fear? My sister and I have never been able to understand why Mom was such a fearful person. We just knew we didn’t want to be like that. I had always envied my friends whose mothers were not like mine, wondering why I couldn’t have a mother like theirs.
One would think I would have been terrified of my brother. In a way, I suppose I was, but the dominant emotion during and after the abuse was disgust. This feeling of disgust has stayed with me over the years, easily surfacing whenever I think of him. How did I cope with this disgust? During the abuse, I would close my eyes tightly, even turning my face away, trying to shut it out. I’ve dealt with my emotions in much the same way—squeezing my eyes shut to the memories and physically turning my face away from them.
The verbal abuse from my brother has been the hardest to overcome, affecting my life in ways I didn’t fully realize until I reached my 50s. Throughout my childhood and teenage years, he regularly told me three things: “You are disgusting,” “No one will ever love you,” and “You will never amount to anything.” These words became ingrained in my mind, playing daily in one form or another. Because I grew up hearing them so often, I didn’t even recognize them as toxic thoughts—they just became a part of me.
In my mid-30s, years after my father died, I muscled up the courage to tell my mother about the abuse. Her response was to ask, “Why are you trying to hurt your brother?” I sat there stunned. I never spoke of it to her again. All the 40 years between the abuse and her death, she repeatedly told me and others that he was a very loving and protective brother. Weirdly, I would try to convince myself too and try to make room for him in my life.
It became harder and harder to live this lie. After my mom’s death, I was no longer being scolded for “trying to hurt my brother” even though I was not speaking of the abuse. I finally felt the freedom to face and process through it. The feelings of disgust and being repulsed are still strong memories.
Over the years I have felt grief and loss because I wanted to have a close relationship with my brother. And it simply was not possible. I envied friends who would speak of their brother being their best friend. It would hurt and be hard to listen to because I desired that too. God would speak to my heart and tell me to pray for my brother, but I would resist. Changes started happening when I began receiving counseling from First Stone Ministries.
My Story Part Three
We started visiting churches after our move from Kansas to Oklahoma City in 2014. One of the churches we visited in the fall of 2015 spoke of a presentation by First Stone Ministries about sexual brokenness. I was intrigued and wanted to know more so I attended. Then my husband and I made an appointment with the director. He suggested the Parents’ Group ministry and that I receive counseling from the Director of Women’s Ministry to unpack my abuse since I had never done that. I received counseling, and we have attended the Parents’ Group ever since. Two of the best decisions we have ever made! I was taught not to be afraid of my emotions, that they were not wrong, and how to talk and listen to God. Generally, when I talk with God, I begin telling him how I am feeling about the subject, often ask a question, and then get quiet and wait/listen for what he impresses on my heart. Sometimes I don’t know what I am feeling, so I ask God to show me so I can talk with him about it.
How did I endure, even suffer through all of this? I became a Christian at ten, and God provided excellent teachers. Through the years God reinforced this excellent teaching, and First Stone Ministries emphasized the same teaching giving me spiritual stability. What was taught and emphasized? Colossians 3:2 “Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth.” Romans 12:2 “Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” 1 Peter 1:13 “Gird up the loins of your mind, be sober, and hope to the end for the grace that is to be brought unto you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” Hebrews 3:1 “Holy brothers, who share in the heavenly calling, fix your thoughts on Jesus.”
My Story Part Four
In February 2024 I was encouraged to have a conversation with my brother about the abuse that occurred 55 years ago. Before this conversation, fear ruled the day. I just could not bring myself to initiate this conversation. God brought it about after several years of praying about the when, where, how, and what of a conversation. It had angered me over the years that my brother had not made any attempt to talk to me about what took place so long ago though he had become a Christian and even a pastor. That February, during a conversation about another matter, I surprised myself when I asked if he had time for a conversation about the elephant in the room. He was willing to have the conversation. He stated that he did not remember the abuse but that he believed me because he knew who he was back then. I could hear the humility in his tone of voice and his choice of words. He asked if I would forgive him, and if we could develop a relationship. It was clear that he was a changed man. Regarding the three things that he regularly said to me, he said that he hasn’t believed any of them through our adult years because he has been watching my walk with Jesus. In fact, he said that I have been and continue to be his hero, the number one person he admires. At first, I could not believe what he was saying because I did not expect any of this from him. It’s amazing how God can change a life! It reinforces my hope that God is at work in the lives of my three sons. Praise be to God our redeemer!
My three sons have not turned their lives back to Jesus. We continue to have a strong, loving relationship with each one and will continue to pray that they will respond to the work of the Holy Spirit in their lives. Early on God revealed that each person has a name, a face, a personality, a story, skills, and abilities that he has given them, including my sons. So, that is where my husband and I put our focus with our three sons, which allows them to feel valued, loved, and part of the family, and to maintain our relationship with them. We do not try to fix or try change them for we cannot. We listen, love, serve, and walk with Jesus. We want them to see Jesus in us.