Teresa Pitt Green, Founder
We have wept. We have screamed. We have groaned. We have trembled. We have cringed and keened and fumed. We begged God, bargained with God, tried to outsmart God, and rejected God. We tried to outrun God. We tried to hide from God.
We held a clenched fist toward heaven in accusation and rage.
We concluded the silent shroud that hides abuse in the death of our childhood is the sound of His abandonment.
We have recited prayers someone who loved us taught us, but no answer came, and we gave up along the way. We have looked for signs and seen none. We have felt hurt and even rebuke reading Scripture to see prayers answered, safety secured, hope restored.
We have played music loud enough to cover our crying hearts. We have surrounded ourselves with noisy people who might, we hoped, drown out our grief born of knowing surely that He abandoned us in our vulnerable innocence.
We have cried out to God in bitterness even as we reached for the drink or the drug or the idol that would relieve the pain He did not relieve.
And, strangely, after all that, we actually believed we did not have a relationship with God. So, let’s start right here, where we are, as a next step in the most central relationship in our lives—with God, at any decibel.
Excerpted with kind permission from Veronica’s Veil: Spiritual Companionship for Survivors of Abuse – A Christ-Centered Approach, by Rev. Lewis S. Fiorelli, OSFS, and Teresa Pitt Green. Dog Ear (Indianapolis, 2014) Nihil Obstat, Imprimatur.