“So where was God’s mercy all of those years?”, I asked this question of my dear sister in Christ as we sat across from each other at breakfast one morning.

I thought to myself, where was His mercy when I stood in the same room where my dad took his life and it became, at the age of three, my earliest memory; the first utter rejection of my heart? Where was His mercy during the rages, the abuse, the sheer terror and fear for my life that followed me as I grew and developed into the broken person I would one day become? She answered simply, “The mercy was there Cindy”. I looked at this beautiful woman of God, at the love of Jesus shining out of her eyes and, as we continued to discuss it, a new light began to flood my soul.

I was actually 30 years into the process of healing when my friend and I had this conversation. There had been many moments, as I had read and studied God’s Word over the years, of the light chasing the dark from my mind and heart; instances of deliverance and breaking of strongholds during my life after I came to know Jesus, but I continued to struggle with this question until that morning. My heart opened a little more as I sat there, and His light shone into some deep dark recesses that had remained closed off. I sensed a new courage in Him, and I dared to look back.

I left our time together that morning and the day seemed brighter. I began to allow myself to think back on my years growing up. I felt a liberty to do so for the first time because I knew the One who had protected me, the One who fought my battles of fear-He was with me. He was walking ahead of me and beside me. His arm was across my back. I was safe. So, I began to sit, get quiet, pray and then replay the memories…the times I would climb a tree with a book. I would sit there with the sun shining on me as I read, and I felt safe. His mercy was there. I remembered people God had placed in my life who covered me and protected me, if even for a moment in a day. His mercy was there. I remembered those times when I wasn’t sure I would make it and the times when I didn’t want to continue on anymore. I remembered playing with my cousins-dancing and singing or tumbling outside at dusk in the sweet summer air filled with the smell of cut grass. His mercy was there. I remembered all of the travel and, while it was filled with trauma and uncertainty, I experienced new places, new people and I learned so much. His mercy was there.

It took me 30 years to allow myself to remember the good. I encourage you, if you still struggle with wondering about God’s mercy, sit quietly and let Him remind you of the times He covered you even in the worst of circumstances.

*People who recover from abuse and trauma are some of the strongest, most loving people you will ever meet if they recover with love and forgiveness. There is no reason for pity. Compassion and encouragement from others, however, are critical in their process.