Liberated by the Love of Christ

As a child, I would hold onto the song Jesus Loves Me as a mantra that protected me from the dark forces in my life: .
             "Jesus loves me. This I know .
             for The Bible tells me so. .
             Little ones to Him belong. .
             They are weak but he is strong.".
             With every flashback of my Grandfather's unwanted touch, I would sing in my heart that Jesus loved me. Imprisoned by shame, despair, and confusion, I would lay there hopeless while this man I trusted violated and despoiled me. .
             "Your Grandfather is a Godly man," everyone said. He was a hardworking, respected elder and an usher at our church. I developed paralysis and my voice was silenced. After all, aren't children meant to be seen and not heard? Inside I was young, vibrant, and alive, but the world appeared to me to be dark, and a mirage of that intangible concept known as love. I was enslaved to the desires of other men in addition to my Grandfather. Now groomed into submission, I became my stepdad's favorite-just like Grandpa's-except instead of the stench of cologne on my body now it was alcohol. A childhood to forget, my only salvation was the occasional Sunday morning when I sang the loudest and immersed myself in safety, for Sunday was a day of rest. .
             Over time, I would grow up as most little girls do. Inside my world, however, I never knew what real love looked and felt like. Tossed around like a rag doll from person to person, I grew weary of longing for Jesus to rescue me. I hadn't realized that his heart was bleeding alongside mine. For a period, I turned my back on Jesus and left. With a sense of desire growing deep within, I confiscated myself and fell into a downward spiral. I convinced myself that Jesus was just a myth, a childhood fantasy that helped me cope with the never-ending despair in which I had been enshrouded. .
             The songs of yesterday plagued me as I tried to run far from the Master's touch. I had spent years crying through the night, but now I felt like my tears were in vain and that life was a mere existence, something to be endured, not cherished.