Standing in the hot shower, Susan put her face directly in the stream. The water washed away the salty tears, but not the pain. Physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually she was bruised and used. When the water turned cool, she regained control and shut off the faucet, along with her feelings, and became numb.

On her way to her apartment recently, she was assaulted by a stranger who stripped away her freedom, self-worth, and security. Some memories were clear while others were fuzzy.

Slapped, clawed, beaten, and raped, she was discarded in a heap next to a trash bin just as if she was unwanted garbage herself. In and out of consciousness, Susan remembered a kindly woman cupping Susan's head in her hands and praying out loud for God to hold her. Blue and red strobes illuminated the night and Susan vaguely remembered being in a green room where a doctor and several nurses performed an examination while Susan pushed against them and screamed.

Oh God, it hurt.

Finally, things regained their cohesiveness and she could think more clearly. Her lips were swollen and stitched, her left arm was in a sling, two ribs were broken, and the rest of her body was scraped, bruised, and aching.

Over and over, she gave a statement and description to the police. Each time she relived that night, her stomach turned. Couldn't they just leave her alone?

Days later, she was released. The media wouldn't leave her alone -- they kept hounding, "How did you feel when he ... ?" How was she supposed to feel? Why must this tragedy be sensationalized for the local viewing audience?

She believed that her family viewed her experience as an unfortunate event that should be quickly forgotten. Not that she minded, but the accusing look in their eyes made her think that she brought disgrace to them. She felt so embarrassed and contagious -- like she might infect them with her dirty experience.

Toweling off from the shower, she quickly pulled on her pajamas. Combing her hair, she sneaked a peek in the mirror and saw the light green bruise flowering on her face, and the ugly dark red scar on her lip. She questioned how she could have prevented this attack, she questioned why this happened to her, and lastly she questioned her faith.

"What did I do wrong?"

Nights were unbearable. The fear, humiliation, and guilt were taking over her life and she started taking pills to help her sleep. Tonight she reached for the bottle of pills and yearned for a long restful sleep. In a trance-like state, she poured all of the pills in her hand and thought of how wonderful it would be to just not wake up.

Suddenly, she dropped the pills onto the floor as if something knocked her hand. Where did THAT come from? It's true, she argued with herself. If she didn't have to get up, she wouldn't have any more pain.

Ruth, the lady that found Susan that horrible night next to the trash bin, had been keeping contact with Susan supporting and praying for her. Ruth was a total stranger, just like the guy who attacked her, but Ruth was a different kind of stranger. She was in her late fifties to early sixties, and had a soft but strong voice that matched her small matronly frame.

Susan stumbled to the phone, collapsed on her bed, and punched in Ruth's number. When Ruth's voice came on the line, Susan burst into tears.

"I c-can't go on, Ruth. God help me, I just can't wake up and face another day."

Ruth was in the process of loading her dishwasher when the phone rang. Shocked by Susan's outburst, Ruth stopped what she was doing and calmly said, "Sweet one, listen to me; you are a precious gift. You are. Do you know this? You are a unique and beautiful creation of God's; you are His child. You deserve respect because God made you in His image."

Susan was crying so hard, she could only moan, "No, God is punishing me."

Taking her cordless phone to the den, Ruth sat and said a quick silent prayer for wisdom. Then she said, "Our God is an awesome God. He helps us heal; He doesn't send someone to hurt His people."

"It's God's will that I was hurt," Susan hissed.

"No, hon, God doesn't ever harm us," Ruth continued, "It was God's will that you survived! God didn't bring that man to harm you; God was right there with you protecting you, keeping you alive. You made choices that night so you could survive; those instincts were from God."

"I'm so weak, tired -- I can't go on, Ruth. I can't," Susan cried as she rolled over on her stomach and buried her face in her comforter.

"You're right, you can't do it alone. You have a Jesus-sized hole in your heart," Ruth said.

"God didn't send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him. Having a weakness is acceptable, and know that in your weakness, God's power is perfect."

"But, I f-feel so dirty. I'm not worthy."

"Remember John 3:16? For God so loved the world that He sent His only son. That doesn't mean that God only loved the world back then in New Testament times, but the world - past, present, and future. There are no conditions or time restraints on God's love."

Susan remembered the verse from her childhood. To her it was 'just words' and now she was learning that this simple verse holds the key to her final healing.

Silence answered Ruth, and she prayed and patiently waited for Susan to say what was on her mind.

Several minutes went by before Susan could stop crying and speak. She appreciated the fact that Ruth was on the other end of the line, praying for her, and listening. Ruth's faith was like a rock and Susan hoped Ruth's strength was contagious.

Finally Susan sat up, took a deep shaky breath, and said, "I wish I had your faith, Ruth. Ever since I was attacked, I've felt so - so NEEDY. I feel as if I'm a burden to everyone. I hate this! You just don't know how it feels."

Ruth responded, "Actually, I do, Susan. When I was twenty, I was at a party with several friends. One of my friends had too much to drink and he raped me. Everyone said that I asked for it, that it was 'just sex,' and that I shouldn't complain because it was not a big deal.

"I didn't get beaten, but I was rejected by my friends for saying anything. I became depressed and had the very same thoughts that you are experiencing now. I know how you feel because I've been there; I was on the bottom looking up and thinking, 'Who would care if I wasn't here?'"

"Ruth! I had no idea!"

"A friend, no, an acquaintance - I didn't know her that well - saw me crying one day. She offered an ear and then told me of her faith. This started my healing and the beginnings of my own faith," Ruth said.

You could almost hear Ruth smile as she continued, "I've seen and experienced so many things in my lifetime that strengthens my faith. The births of my children reinforced my faith. When I held my newborn in my arms, the perfection and beauty were overwhelming. How can something that supposedly evolved from pond scum be so perfect? That's when I caught my breath and said, 'Oh Ruth! Look at how much God loves you! God loves you more than you love your own child,' and I just cried.

"From then on, I found a church to ground me, and I studied my Bible to drink in as much knowledge as I could. Now, some thirty-something years later, I'm still thirsty and I'm still learning.

"God saved us, not because of the righteous things we do, but because of His mercy and His love. This is what stokes the fire beneath my faith. He saved us generously through Jesus Christ; it is only through Christ's sacrifice that we become worthy in God's sight.

"Jesus died for YOU -- God allowed it so that you would know of His love," Ruth said.

"Ruth, you're so strong."

Ruth said, "Actually, I'm not strong, but through God I gain my strength. And you can be too! You are a survivor. God loves you. If you allow Him, He will put help in your life. This help will be in many different ways. It could be in the form of people coming into your life, or Bible and book passages that seem to help. It could be counseling, or books to read. It could be a well-timed phone call from a friend or an inspiring email. He'll send the help. Being open to using it is your choice."

"What do you mean that it's my choice?"

"When we ask for help it will be sent. When we ask for someone else to carry this burden, that might not happen. It's already been given to us to carry. Recognizing help can be hard. I confess; there were times when I didn't realize that help was right in front of me and that's why recovery is so difficult. Being able to recognize when the help we are asking for is available is a challenge. Through prayer, we are more able to see the help and use it. Ask God to help you be aware of the help He has sent." Ruth replied.

This tragedy will follow Susan throughout her life in some form. The final healing may be a slow process, painfully slow, if she doesn't have Someone to lean on. Flashbacks will haunt her, and coping will be hard, however final healing is possible with God.

Dear Reader, Susan and Ruth are my creation. Although the characters are fictitious, their stories are true and happen every day. Using my own experience and several of my friends' experiences, I created this piece to minister to you. Some of you may find Susan's circumstances very familiar. Please know that you are never alone, and with God's help, you will find your final healing.

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