My story of letting God heal my sexual trauma and free me from shame. For so long, I felt like God couldn't meet me in this area not because He didn't have the power, but because it felt like this area was off limits. But God belongs in every room and in every situation. His presence is what drives out darkness. If God isn't in our bedroom, then who else is? Expecting man to heal what the devil broke was never going to work. So, I invited God into the place where shame lived

Feeling like I am the problem, like there's something wrong with me, like every failure delays my blessings, like God's goodness is based on my performance, pricks the core wound from my childhood, deepens my shame and sadness, allows the hopelessness to resurface, and makes me angry at God. The old lie has risen that makes me feel like I was set up to fail, because perfection is beyond my capabilities. I realize I've been striving instead of surrendering.

This past week has been hard. As much as I've engrossed myself in God's Word, embedded His truths in me, and rebuked the lies the devil has poured into me, I could only hold my ground for so long before the hopelessness tried to take root again. But what happened this week is so much bigger than the past seven days, so I'm going to back up to the beginning.