A God of love? Unconditional, gentle, nurturing love?

I had no concept of what that was like.

The God I knew was a horrible creature- he loved inflicting judgment and pain on his children… after all, that was how he refined them! He especially enjoyed appointing his angels- the ministry of the Church of God Restoration- to further beat us down.

Sin was completely unacceptable. I lived in constant fear of doing anything to displease him- it was a sure fire way to get myself on the expressway to hell. Not only would I suffer nothing but his blackest anger and fury, but the rod would also be handed to any and all above me, and the chastisement would be terrible. I avoided doing anything that bore the title of "sin", and when in doubt was quick to label everything as a "mistake". Mistakes weren't so bad, but sin? Oh…..

Questioning anything that he gave his angels to say to me would also result in a punishment of the worst sort. He gave his word directly to them, and any bit of deviance from their orders would result in unspeakable torture. This was backsliding- immediately so. The backslidden condition was a horrible one, so I was told. It meant darkness and misery, and an abyssal distance away from God, harsh though he might be. No, I did not want to backslide.

I lived in agony and fear of him. I would read, and occasionally hear of him being a God of love, but so far I had not seen that. I soon began to learn that love was not a kind, gentle thing- it was harsh and abusive. God (in his great, overwhelming love) would send brothers and sisters to make my life a living hell. This was refining me, and making me of a stronger character. That's what saints do for each other- be like sandpaper and sharp tools to each other, and make life as miserable as possible. This is love. God's love.

I tried to accept it. I tried to think that someday this pain would be over, and I would feel what real love was like. Maybe someday the sister that hated (err…loved) me so would stop tormenting me. In the meantime, I had to accept God's workings in my life.

As for the God that I read about in Isaiah 40:11? He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young. No. That was a God for sissies. True saints of God don't stay lambs- they are beaten and abused till they grow up to be thick skinned sheep. Gently leading those who are with young? Hah! Just another excuse. As if! No… God demanded perfection and strength. Nothing tender like that- nothing!

The God that I had been taught about demanded that I also be harsh and judgmental. He required me to show tough love to my brothers and sisters, and especially to those still lost. Condemn! Preach! Judge! This is the way to bring people into the kingdom of heaven! Sadly, I followed. I cry to think of the amounts of damage that I did to people so undeserving of my harshness. And yet…I was only obeying God and his angels.

In 1999, I started feeling something different in my life. Something more gentle and supporting, and somehow I knew that it was God making himself real to me. Except… this was not the God I had been taught about. This was different. This presence was gentle. This presence saw as I was beaten and abused by the shepherds, and once I was released to go and bleed, it would come comfort me. It held me up, and let me know that I was still loved…unconditionally. It saw me lacerated through the meanness of my brothers and sisters, and would come hold me as I cried, and let me know that this would soon end. It poured a balm into my bleeding spirit, and refreshed me. Little did I know that it was also preparing me for the worst time of my life- a time that would threaten to bring me to my knees, and would take everything that I had ever known and loved. How was I to know? I just knew that I had to hold on to this marvelous healing force in my life.

And then…in February 2000, my world, as I knew it, came crashing to an abrupt halt. Pandemonium broke loose, and the angels and their followers spewed out hate and malice like I had never seen before. I cried for God to fix his church, and to do away with the source of dissension! His church must go on- it must! The gates of hell could not prevail! I would stand by it…I had promised I would, and I did not want to be a backslider, separated from God, and miserable. He would fix it…wouldn't he?

And then, suddenly, I felt a push. I was outside. Outside!! Separated from God for eternity…oh, how did this happen? I couldn't live like this, could I? Why was I outside? What had I done?? All I had ever wanted to do was to follow God, and this was what happened?

My heart was shattered. My mind was reeling from the hatefulness I saw exploding from God's sanctuary, and I desperately tried to make sense of it all. What was I to do? I was alone…what would I do?

But wait! I was not alone- the loving presence had come with me. God was still with me!

The next few months were filled with agony. My body shook with the sobs emanating from me, and I wondered if anything would ever make sense again. How would I live? Who would I follow? Would I ever have friends again? Would I ever get married? Would life ever make sense again?

In the midst of my fear and pain, I felt the presence comfort me. I felt God's arm around me when I thought the sobs would rip me apart. I felt a warmth go through me, and the assurance that everything would be alright. The comfort of his presence carried me through a time that otherwise would have destroyed me, and I fiercely hung on to him.

Days turned into weeks, which turned into months, and into years. I was helpless. I didn't know how to cope in a world from which I had been sheltered, and I could only look to him to guide me. And…guide me he did.

He opened door after door for me, and slowly led me through different pathways. I was frightened- I so badly did not want to go wrong- and trusted him. He did not fail me.

He led me (through a series of wonderful, intrinsic events) to a Bible college, where I was to spend 3 wonderful, formative years. He flooded me with friends and mentors, and gently, yet surely opened my mind from its closed lock. He taught me to think…to feel…and to live! He brought a young man into my life, who, though I didn't know it then, would someday be my husband.

And then…he began opening my wounds. They were too deep for me to deal with alone. I had bandaged them upon the infliction of pain, but they had never really healed. They had simply festered unnoticed, and were still slowly seeping poison. Bit by bit he removed the bandages, and bit by bit I had to deal with the filth and pain of my wounds. Through all the ugliness, I still felt his love- protecting, healing, and loving me.

As the sores lay exposed, I saw the true ugliness, and in my anger, I saw him as part of it. I blamed him for letting me suffer thus, and I blamed him for the lies I had been taught. My old knowledge of him came back, and I grew bitter at the horrible God I knew, by definition. I saw him defined by general Christianity, and grew angrier. This God was not a loving being! He was a horrible, judgmental and hateful character, and he had hurt me terribly.

I began to doubt his existence entirely. I was devastated as I saw the last thing that I had held on to slip out of my hands, but I simply could not believe. I knew that there was something that had carried me through all my pain, but I could no longer find it.

I cried out in anger and fear. The heavens were silent…nothing responded. I desperately wanted to believe in a God- but I needed to know he was there. Friends rallied around me, encouraging me to keep looking for him…he would eventually reveal himself. Still nothing. The heavens were like a wall of steel.

And then…when I had come to the end- when I no longer believed in anything, and had thrown away everything I had been taught…he came. His quiet, gentle presence began to fill my heart, and the thing I felt most was the love. I felt my wounds heal as his balm spilled into the crevices. I saw Jesus in a way I had never known him before.

I saw his infinite love…his patience…and his gentleness. I felt his peace and security, and I was changed. I no longer feared a harsh, unreasonable being, because I knew that my God had none of those characteristics.

He loves. Yes, he judges, but in love. His patience extends an infinity beyond ours, and he never ceases to care for those he has created. He sees the evil ones, and he loves with tears. He sees into hearts in ways that we can never see, and loves.

He heals. He takes those that have been bruised and broken by enemies of Love, and pours his healing into their wounded hearts. He does a thorough job, if we let him. Yes, it hurts, but he is there to comfort when the pain is too great. His healing is deep and lasting.

He understands. He sees those that have been hurt by false professors of his name, and he knows that he will be hated and mistrusted. He understands, and his patience is there, waiting for us to want healing, and then reveals himself in true love. He understands the anger and doubts towards him, and his tears mingle with ours as the pain gets too much to bear.

He does not get angry. Yes, he is a great and terrible God, who will judge those who are fighting against him. Towards those whose hearts are searching, longing, looking for something good, he is nothing but infinitely gentle and loving. He will let them search till they find him.

He loves those that others have cast out and judged. He loves the drug addict, the prostitute, the homosexual, and all those that the church has cast out and trodden on. He looks into the heart, and he loves. When stones are cast at them, his piercing eyes look at the ones throwing. He demands that the ones who are without sin cast the first stone, and smiles as all slink away. These are his children, and no matter how they are rejected by others, they belong to him. He alone knows the truth, and he understands.

He is God. A good God. A loving God. He is no longer a swear word to me, but one at whose feet I can cast myself, knowing that he will never let me be hurt.

For all those suffering from abuse, take hope. He is waiting for you to look for him, and he will be your protector and healer.