In my conversations with abuse victims, the above phrase is something I can typically expect to hear.
It begins with “He* really believes…” and ends with:
…his way is the right way.
…I’m the one with the problem.
…I don’t understand him.
…I should just trust him.
…he is justified in treating me the way he does.
…I’m a lousy wife.
Does he really believe those things? If he does, then to my way of thinking, there are only two options. Either: 1) he is painfully delusional, or 2) he is doing everything in his power to convince you that he believes those things of you.
“Reformulating the Christian Marriage Counseling Model Where Abuse Is Involved” is now available on Amazon as a paperback and a Kindle e-book.
This book is a culmination of my experiences in the counseling environment coupled with the 12 years I have spent ministering to victims of abuse. I have heard countless stories from many who have been shamed, blamed, and ostracized by their Christian counselors, pastors, family members and believing friends for leaving their abusers or divorcing them.
But why?
It is painfully apparent that the common Christian marriage counseling model begins with a lack of biblical understanding when it comes to God’s heart for marriage, as well as His directives to identify genuinely wicked people in our midst and protect the innocent.
The book reveals how the entrenched belief that “God hates divorce” has resulted in a process that elevates the design to “save the marriage” above the safety of those being harmed. I will reveal the true meaning of this Scripture – and others. Sadly, as a result of this and other related teachings, quite often legalism reigns, compassion fails and the abuse continues.
“Reformulating the Christian Marriage Counseling Model Where Abuse Is Involved” takes in in-depth look at the common counseling model, identifies why the model fails when abuse has permeated the relationship, and presents a new model that utilizes processes and supports outcomes based on the truth that marriage is sacred, not merely in status, but in substance.
“Faced with the abuser’s lies and half-truths [in the counseling environment], a victim will almost always struggle to present her case – a case she would not feel pressured to make if she was removed from her abuser’s presence from the outset and placed in a safe environment where she is free to reveal anything and everything without fear.
“In a couples counseling setting, the victim will likely receive little, if any, actual counsel and emotional support that ministers to her. The ultimate objective of “saving the marriage” coupled with the goal of “helping” the abuser essentially leaves her on the sidelines.
“Her traumatic experiences and the wounds she carries as a result seem to be less of a concern. She feels compelled to remain in a relationship with someone she has no reason to trust laden with an obligation to be patient and prayerful, believing that restoration must surely lie somewhere in the distance. By default, what she wants or needs may well be deemed essentially irrelevant.
“This is wrong.”
The book will provide victims with insight as to what to look for in a counselor and the counseling process. Similarly, the book will benefit pastors, lay counselors, licensed counselors, and church leaders as well as Christian college and seminary faculty and instructors who are willing to look at the common Christian marriage counseling model and consider why it may fail and how it should be reformulated where abuse is involved.
Tim Yarbrough, President of Greengate Enterprises wrote:
“I have received and read through your latest book. What an incredible and much-needed analysis of the present model. As I shared with our circle of counselors and advocates here: “This book is not a challenge to the present model of counseling involving abuse – it is a much-needed frontal assault.” This will be required reading for all of those entering our local training. Thank you.”
The book is $14.95 as a paperback and $4.99 as an e-book. You can find it here.
Sometimes it feels as though I have lived two profoundly different lifetimes.
Many years ago, I lived as one unloved, unseen and unappreciated, fearful and confused, trying to please someone who would not be pleased. Loneliness hung heavy over me. The wounds were deep, and the pain was crippling.
But, the day came when God set me free, and He began to whisper to me, reminding me of who I am – and whose I am. The truth is that He had been trying to speak to me for a long time, but I wasn’t listening. My pride was in the way.
I finally left that ungodly life behind. It was not an easy journey to find freedom and peace, but it was well worth the effort. And in time a new life with a new love began. Rather than feeling inadequate or fearful, I am adored and appreciated. I am not viewed as a pest, but as a priority. My husband is my protector, my provider, and my best friend.
I remember well that old, dark life, but now it feels like another lifetime.
It was.
If you sense God calling you out of the darkness and into His marvelous light, listen. It may be that He has a whole new life out there waiting for you, too.
“…hope in the Lord; for with the Lord there is lovingkindness, and with Him is abundant redemption.” Psalm 130:7
“Without consultation, plans are frustrated, but with many counselors they succeed.” Proverbs 15:22
We know there is wisdom in the counsel of many. Even in the midst of overwhelming heartache and confusion, we may have some vague idea of what we want or need to do, but out of a sincere desire to do the right thing, we prefer to secure a measure of validation from others before we proceed.
Unfortunately, when dealing with an abusive spouse, some of our most well-meaning advisers may offer up various measures of godly-sounding legalism rather than the kind of balanced, practical support that the one living in the cross-hairs of an abuser desperately needs.
“I feel like I’m either too much or not enough,” my then-teenage daughter shared in a moment of heart-wrenching vulnerability. She shared the words tentatively – almost apologetically – with tears brimming in her eyes, like she was revealing a deep, dark secret that no one else could possibly understand.
They were words that had been holding her captive for a good part of her adolescent life. The messages spawned fears about her own value and identity, the result of words spoken and wounds inflicted by others in her life. And as the words fell from her lips, I inwardly groaned.
It was easy to hold her and grieve with her, knowing that she had been carrying the weight of that terrible self-doubt for many months and maybe years. I assured her that she was absolutely worthy of love and more than adequate in every way that mattered. Yet even into her adult life, she battled the messages, having felt those pronouncements upon her life issued by some of the young men she dated, whether through words, attitudes or actions.
Those words painfully identify what I believe may be a common belief system and perhaps an ongoing struggle for many of us.
The implications of such a profoundly destructive declaration over our own lives cannot be understated:
It seems I am too much. I am too high-maintenance, too much of a burden, a perpetual inconvenience. I am unworthy of anyone’s devoted time and attention.
It seems I am not enough. I am inferior in a thousand ways to just about everyone else. I don’t measure up. I am unworthy of love and affection.
Not only did I adopt those messages into my own life from a young age, but there are times they still haunt me.
My mother divorced my father when I was five, my sisters then nine and 12. We saw our father occasionally, but it felt like glorified babysitting more than quality time together. Soon after the divorce, my father married a woman with two children of her own, and she did not care a whit about me or my sisters.
My mother worked full-time. While she fulfilled her primary roles as a provider, she preferred to spend any free time in outings and hobbies that didn’t include us. While my sisters leaned on one another, I was the loner. I learned from a young age that my role was not to need my mother or ask for much of anything. It seemed she viewed me as little more than an obligation and a burden.
I was too much for her.
I tried to earn her love and approval. I got good grades, avoided getting into trouble and basically stayed out of her way. But my good grades didn’t yield any measure of praise; they were simply to be expected. When I was 11, some of my friends urged me to audition for a solo in our elementary school Christmas program. But when I told my mom I was considering auditioning, she responded coldly, “Why would you want to do that?” It was clear to me that she believed I would only embarrass myself – or her. So I didn’t even try.
I was not enough.
When I began dating in my later teen years, a few caring and personable young men expressed an interest in me, but it was I who almost always ended the relationships before they began. I had a deep-seated fear that they would see through me – how inadequate and broken I was. Surely they would quickly come to recognize that I was unworthy of their time and attention. Rather than face that kind of rejection, I chose to beat them to the punch. I wasn’t confident enough, strong or emotionally healthy enough. And as I looked at the other girls in my circle, I felt certain that I wasn’t pretty or outgoing enough either.
Then there were the guys who were more sarcastic and disrespectful. The feminine gender’s romantic, sentimental hearts were seen as an annoyance. Girls were really only good for one thing. Consequently, some young men treated me as though I should feel gratified to receive whatever paltry measure of attention they conceded to extend. Their attitudes and behaviors told me that I was too much – someone to be tolerated rather than appreciated. I was made to feel like I was too girly, too emotional and too needy.
Every shake of the head and every slight served to solidify those untruths and added to my belief that somehow everyone around me was superior to me, while I felt like a pretender.
Based on my history, it is no surprise to me that I married an abuser. The man I married was obsessed with me. I figured no one would ever love me like he did. He also had some health issues, which provided me with the opportunity to prove that I could love sacrificially while being low-maintenance at the same time. Our marriage could prove that I was enough without being too much. It felt like a valid perspective at the time.
True enough, the messages I had come to accept about myself and those around me made me an ideal victim. Throughout my abusive marriage, I received more of the same messages, that I was too much of a logistical, financial and emotional burden, and never quite worthy of his love, respect or protection. I sacrificed my value to accommodate the lie.
That was then; this is now.
For the past 13 years, I have been married to the best man I have ever known. When we first began to get acquainted, one of the first words I used to describe myself was “independent.” I saw that quality as a strength. As I came to know Doug, he told me that he knew what that word really meant, and that it kind of broke his heart.
He said that he knew I had no choice but to be independent, because I didn’t have anyone in my life who looked out for me, protected me, someone I could always count on to be my defender, my safe place.
He was right. And although I was touched by his perceptiveness, I was also terrified that he could see my wounds and longings so clearly. But how affirming it was to be able to finally bring the shield down, to know that when I was with him I was free to be less than perfect and vulnerable because he saw me as worthy of love – an overwhelmingly gracious, giving, protective, all-in, no-regrets kind of love. Whatever my shortcomings, Doug has never failed to assure me that I am never too much and always more than enough.
None of us is perfect, nor were we ever meant to be. We were created with our own unique gifts and strengths to complement one another.
Even knowing this, I confess there are times I occasionally struggle with doubts about my worth. I will quickly apologize for the slightest oversight, and my daughter still has to remind me to claim my space at the shopping mall. Sometimes I still feel guilty asking for help, or feel badly because things don’t turn out the way I planned, or I feel guilty for purchasing some small thing that makes me happy. After all these years, I am still trying to absorb the fact that I matter. I know I need to declare the truth and live like I believe it:
I am not too much, and I am more than enough.
Maybe you need to declare this too. If so, do yourself a favor and take a moment to rebuke the lies and speak that powerful, life-giving truth into your own life. Let me assure you…
You are not too much.
You are more than enough.
“…now God has placed the members, each one of them, in the body, just as He desired. If they were all one member, where would the body be? But now there are many members, but one body. And the eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you”; or again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, it is much truer that the members of the body which seem to be weaker are necessary; and those members of the body which we deem less honorable, on these we bestow more abundant honor, and our less presentable members become much more presentable, whereas our more presentable members have no need of it. But God has so composed the body, giving more abundant honor to that member which lacked, so that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another.”
