There are a few lies that abuse plants in the soil of a person's heart. They grow quietly, often for years, and they begin to feel like truth simply because they have been there so long. Please let the truth speak louder than them, even for a few minutes.

The lie says, ''If I had been different, it would not have happened.'' The truth is that the harm did not come from anything you were or were not. Harm is a choice made by the one who does it. Nothing about you your body, your kindness, your trust, your silence, your laughter, your love invited it. You were not a cause. You were a child of God in the path of someone else's choice.

The lie says, ''If I really loved God, I would be over this by now.'' The truth is that healing from trauma is not a measure of your faith. It is the slow, sacred work of a body and soul that were not designed for what they had to absorb. Jesus, after His resurrection, still carried the scars in His hands. Glorified, risen, victorious and still scarred. Scars are not the opposite of holiness. Sometimes they are the proof of it.

The lie says, ''I have to forgive them so I can move on.'' The truth is that forgiveness, in Scripture, is real but it is never a tool used to silence the harmed. Forgiveness is something God walks into you over time, often years, often in layers. It does not require reconciliation. It does not require contact. It does not require you to call evil less than evil. And it never, ever requires you to be unsafe. The first work in you is not forgiveness. It is shelter.

The lie says, ''If I tell, I will destroy everything.'' The truth is that telling someone safe is not destruction. It is light entering a room that has been dark too long. The harm is what destroys. Telling is what begins to dismantle it. A counselor, a trauma-informed therapist, a helpline, a trusted friend, a wise pastor who has earned trust these are not betrayals of your story. They are God's quiet provisions for the next chapter.

The lie says, ''God could have stopped it and did not, so He must not love me.'' This one cuts deep, and it deserves an honest answer rather than a quick one. We do not know why God lets human beings keep their freedom even when they use it to wound. We know it grieves Him. We know He has promised that every hidden thing will one day be brought into the open, and every act of harm will meet a justice we are not asked to carry. We know that the same God who allowed the cross and wept through it turned it inside out three days later. He is not finished. Neither are you.

Healing will not be a straight line. There will be days that feel like progress and days that feel like the whole thing happened yesterday. Both are part of the same recovery. You are not failing when the wound speaks again. You are healing in layers, the way real wounds heal from the deepest place outward, slowly, with care.