In the lead up to the release of my new novel, Amazing Grace, some friends have been brave enough to share their confessions. Confessions of domestic violence, abuse, an eating disorder, and miscarriage are often stories of shame, fear, and secrets. We often feel like we are the only ones who silently suffer, the only ones who have shameful secrets, the only ones who shudder to speak.
These confessions tell of grace. Grace isn’t always easy to give and it’s not always easy to receive. Grace is free, but it’s not easy.
*Trigger warning: This post contains references to domestic violence.
Guest Post by Cheryl Wilkins
I can’t actually remember all the details about My Confession. They happened bit by bit over 21 yrs.
It would have started with a phone call to let my family know I was leaving my husband and would not be living at our family home in Adelaide anymore. That I would be moving to a Women’s Shelter with the children and we were safe.
I had never told any of them about the physical or emotional abuse I had been through. I didn’t even really see it for what it truly was at the time. I just knew things were bad, getting worse and I couldn’t keep wearing my coping mask any longer. I needed a break from being constantly on edge and living in fear.
I believed all would be well and very soon we would be back together again. This did not happen.
As the years have passed and I have shared more with my family, it has become very evident that my mask wasn’t so watertight. Eventually, after many discussions and even to this day, little pieces of a puzzle continue to fall into place. We had all been manipulated. That’s how it kept on happening for so long. All keeping quiet about our thoughts and concerns to each other.
It has certainly galvanized our relationships as lies have been exposed, the truth has been revealed. It’s true that the truth will set you free, but there it’s also true that sometimes, You can’t handle the Truth. Fortunately, we are a family of faith. Our faith has been tested through many of the sickening discoveries that have been exposed. All of us still on a journey, but working through it together. Under the wings of the almighty who can take such perversion and create such testimony of grace and healing.
There are levels like anything else. There are more truths to discover and healing to come, but I believe it when it says, God does not give you more than you can handle and he has a way out. We are still doing that daily.
It’s not easy, but sharing this with family and now many others, has opened up important conversations and continues to bring healing.
The image is an artwork I made and relates to the month leading up to me leaving my marriage. It’s titled, Silent Witness.
By Cheryl Wilkins
*If this post has affected you please contact Lifeline on 13 11 14 or visit lifeline.org.au
Silent Witness
A body lies on a hard, unforgiving bed, on rusty foundations.
The body is wrapped in the bed sheets, curled up tight like a baby.
Accepting the bondage of the wire around her.
Tears are collected in the jars at the end of the bed.
Rose petals lay scattered around her.
He loves me, He loves me not…
Other petals lay in the salty tears…
That was me.Whatever got me into this place ?
Maybe it was way back when. Back in the formative years.
The one’s I used to spend under my pillow trying to smother myself.
They say Life’s a bitch and then you die…My grief could attest to that.
Cry me a River…What about an Ocean?
Such a Salty taste, such a Teary waste.
Here I lay all grown up, yet curled up like a baby in the womb.
Such an unhealthy position to be in at this time of life.
A shell of a person, constricted, confined.
Bordering on madness….has he called, are they coming to take me away…away…?
I wouldn’t tell you what’s going on….I just can’t.
When I cannot speak any words, when all around me is dark….
Then I cry out to you Mama Mama Mama
