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Story: Lookin’ for Love

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Moving On

P raise Him Bible Church had given me salvation. It was time to give back. I approached John a few months after my baptism. “The church has done so much for me—”John didn’t give me time to finish. “You’re not the same person who walked in here last year.”

“Thank you. But—”

He interrupted again. “You’ve flourished in God’s love. And you’ll continue to grow as you study the scriptures.”

“I want to give back.” I finally got my words out.

John’s smile lit up his face. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“I thought maybe I could do something to help other lost women. If I could work with them, it would make everything I went through worthwhile.”

“Funny you should ask,” John said. “The church has begun working with a women’s shelter in Phoenix. We’re hoping to coordinate with the counseling staff to bring the women into our fold.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been looking for!”

A few days later, John and I met with the staff at the shelter. I had no degree or experience leading groups, but the church and the home were eager to form a liaison and saw me as the link between the two.

Most women had experienced the emotional and physical pain of sexual abuse. I became the leader of a group that met weekly at my church. Using a format similar to AA, we supported one another. Had I not suffered abuse in my past, I wouldn’t be the pillar these women needed in their lives.

Over the next two years, I shared in the joy of faith and renewal for many of my charges. I watched, helpless, as some women returned to their tormenters. I began each meeting by reading Proverbs 26:11: “As a dog that returns to his vomit, so is a fool that misbehaves in his folly.”

Some got it, some didn’t. I was grateful for my successes and turned my failures over to Jesus. But it wasn’t always easy. The stress of the group often left me exhausted. I considered resigning but refused to admit defeat. I prayed for a solution to my dilemma.

In the meantime, a new man began attending Bible study. He approached me one evening during fellowship.

“I’ve seen you at Sunday services but never had the chance to introduce myself. My name’s Dan.”

“Ava. Nice to meet you.”

He appeared to be about my age—nearly sixty—gray hair and mustache, average height, a muscular build, and a radiant smile. I hadn’t thought about dating in years. Maybe Dan would change that.

Dan was separated from his wife and wanted to wait until his divorce was finalized before taking things to the next level. I respected his decision.

We met for lunch a few times, always keeping it short since I had to get back to the salon. One evening after Bible study, he asked if I’d like to join him for coffee. We met at a café not far from church. We sat opposite one another in a booth near the entrance and reviewed the evening’s lesson while waiting to be served.

John and Randy, the assistant pastor, arrived shortly after we did. I waved them over to join us. John nodded, looked to Randy, who shook his head, and moved to a table in the main dining room.

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Randy approached me at Sunday’s fellowship gathering.

“We need to talk,” he said in a strained whisper. He led me by my elbow to a back corner where John waited. Neither man looked happy.

“Ava, you have violated God’s seventh commandment, ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery,’” John said.

I looked at the men, stunned. “I have not!”

“We saw you with Dan, a married man,” Randy said.

“He’s separated, waiting for his divorce. We had coffee—”

“He’s still married in the eyes of the church.”

How dare these men judge me for something I hadn’t done?

“You are immediately stripped of your leadership position with the women’s group,” the assistant pastor said. “We will pray for your forgiveness. We suggest you do the same.”

“But—”

“That’s all, Ava.”

The men left me and approached Dan. I watched as they accused him, watched as he hung his head in shame. What punishment would they inflict on him?

Dan shuffled toward the exit. I followed him to the parking lot.

“Those men had no right to accuse us. We’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Stay away from me, Ava.” He hurried into his car.

I never went back to Praise Him Bible Church.

“You’re not the only one they’ve done this to,” Shelley said. “Seems like a lot of people are finding Praise Him too judgmental.”

“I felt like they were imposing man-made rules on me,” I said.

“You know the assistant worship leader, Patrick?”

“I haven’t seen him for a while,” I said.

“He had enough, too. He’s at Grande View Bible Church. How about we check it out this Sunday?”

“Absolutely.” My only concern was for the women in my sexual abuse group. What would the church tell them about me? I decided the best thing to do would be to write a letter to the women’s shelter saying I needed to resign for personal reasons. I never received a response.

Grande View Bible Church became my home for the next several years. In addition to Sunday services, I enrolled in a program called “My Identity in Christ,” which took my faith and understanding to a new level.

I’d been living with guilt and shame my entire adult life: guilt for my bad decisions, for my parenting skills, and for people I’d wronged, either intentionally or unintentionally. Though I’d been a Christian for years and outwardly accepted that my sins had been forgiven, I’d been unable to accept the totality of God’s forgiveness in my heart.

“What are you getting out of your guilt?” Paul, the workshop leader, asked me.

“Nothing.”

“You are getting something.” Paul looked into my eyes. “You’re getting something out of the bitterness you feel. Why can’t you let it go?”

I wanted to scream, “I don’t know!” but stayed silent, afraid of giving the wrong answer.

“It means you don’t have to change,” he said. “It’s easier to live in misery than take a bold step into the unknown. Until you can forgive yourself, you can’t receive God’s forgiveness.”

A light switch clicked on in my brain. I was awakened to the reality of what it meant to be a Christian and living life in Christ. Over time, I learned to exchange the cloak of guilt and shame for one of peace and joy.

“My Identity in Christ” taught me that doing good in the world is great but being the good in the world is greater. I learned that God is in me, for me, and with me every moment of every day.

After three years with the group, I emerged a new person. My demeanor changed, even my facial expression. I walked taller, prouder, more confident, knowing the Holy Spirit lived within me.

As I looked back, I realized God and Jesus had been with me since the beginning. An invisible thread—God’s thread—carried me through the abuse, mistakes, and darkness. God’s thread allowed me to survive the horrors of my life to bring me to a place of peace.