My Journey from Marital Abuse

My Journey From Marital Abuse
To the outside world, we were the ideal American family … but within the walls of our beautiful home, something was terribly wrong.

by Trudy M. Johnson


Have you ever found yourself in circumstances so difficult you literally wanted to run away? I was once in such a place. Like the psalmist, I wanted to cry out, "Oh, that I had wings like a dove! I would fly away and be at rest" (Psalm 55:6, NIV).

As an adult, I literally ran away from home. I ran away from a 3,000 square-foot, custom-built cedar home with a pool. I ran away from a successful business. I ran away from a country club membership. In the world's eyes, I had it all. Yet I ran away.
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When bruises would show up on my shins, I wore long dresses or pants. Makeup covered the broken capillaries on my right cheek or sometimes my chin.

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Rocky Beginnings

Six months into my marriage, I knew I was in trouble. My husband brought a huge amount of unresolved anger into our marriage. His bad childhood became my bad marriage. When I married him, I was somewhat aware of his past, but realistically, I was still very naive about how deep his wounds were — and how his experience as a victim of childhood abuse would impact me and our two sons.

At different times, his brand of physical and mental cruelty included kicking me with steel-toed boots, trying to force my hands into the flames of the fireplace — even aiming a gun at me. For 23 years, he held me hostage with the threat that if I left, I’d never see my sons again.

At first, my optimistic outlook on life kept me believing that if I would just love him enough, he would change. I loved him, I prayed for him, I tolerated the pain he caused me, and year after year I ignored the lack of normalcy in my life.

In my denial, I never gave up hope that he would change. I made excuses for his behavior and hoped and prayed, never seeing any evidences of change. Perhaps it was my fault, I thought … if I were to just love him more.

Survivors

Within the setting of our beautiful home, my two boys and I learned to live in survival mode. Like three little mice, never knowing when the trap would spring shut, our tolerance for name calling, intimidation, shaking, yelling, pushing and hitting was forced to grow.

The three of us kept our family secret very well. When bruises would show up on my shins, I wore long dresses or pants. Makeup covered the broken capillaries on my right cheek or sometimes my chin.

But worse by far than the physical abuse was the verbal abuse. I hardly remember a day when I wasn't insulted, put down or verbally assaulted. The words sunk deep into my soul and did almost irreparable damage. Truly, words have the power of life or death.

To the outside world, we were the ideal American family. We were country club members and successful business owners. My boys excelled in school and in sports. My children and I learned to cope, and our hearts shared our common secrets.

Too Much to Bear

By 1989, 19 years of this destructive lifestyle had taken its toll on my emotional health. People can be grumpy or negative and it will not hurt you deeply. But in a destructive relationship like my marriage, the abuser destroys the very core of your being.

They gradually wear away the very person you are until you no longer have a healthy image of who God made you to be. In the abuser’s presence you become so beaten down that you begin to expect bad treatment. What's worse, you actually "feed" on that bad treatment. It was in the depths of the resulting depression that I began to plan my own suicide.

By this time, my sons had finally left home and both were attending the United States Air Force Academy — well out of my husband’s reach. I began writing letters to my boys in case I ever truly got the courage to end my life. As I journaled, I began copying verses from the Psalms into small notebooks.

I had a tiny little Bible, the kind they give soldiers in the field. I would hide in the bathroom to read it. As I copied verses — Oh, how they penetrated my soul! It was the balm of those words that began my emotional healing.

'The Balm of Giliad'

Journeying through the Psalms and journaling were the tools that helped me survive three more tough years. I developed an intense appetite for God's Word and I read my Bible whenever possible. The Holy Spirit began to heal me from the inside out.

Eventually, I was able to become strong enough spiritually to have a God other than my abusive husband. This inner strength helped me break free of my domestic bondage. Once I "let go" of everything in my life, the Lord began to work.

At last, my relationship with God was more important than anything else. I let go of the house. I let go of the pool. I let go of the business. I let go of the country club membership. Hardest of all, I let go of my marriage.

Letting go of my marriage was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I'd hoped so long for change, but I finally had to admit to myself that I could not "fix” him, nor could I fix my marriage.

Your Maker Is Your Husband

I began to trust God for whatever the future might hold. Once I let go of what the world had to offer, the Lord miraculously began to orchestrate events whereby I was able to leave my emotionally and physically unsafe home.
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The truth is, God doesn't ever call us to be destroyed trying to save someone else. He doesn't ask us to be destroyed saving a relationship. He only asks us to let Him be Lord of our life.

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In order to make my escape, it was necessary for me to choose only my most precious possessions. After nine months of preparation and planning — and with the help of my sister who did all the behind-the-scenes legwork — on July 8, 1994, I became a "missing person."

I left behind almost every material thing I owned. With just my clothes and a few personal items, I ran away from home. My face could have been on a milk carton. I was an adult runaway.

The Truth Will Make You Free

Through my journey, I learned that Jesus Christ came to "bind up the brokenhearted [and] proclaim freedom for the captives" (Isaiah 61:1). The truth is, God doesn't ever call us to be destroyed trying to save someone else. He doesn't ask us to be destroyed saving a relationship. He only asks us to let Him be Lord of our life.

He calls us to let go of the things that hold us in bondage. He especially wants no other Gods before Him — including abusive husbands.

Ultimately, there are some situations and some people that only the Lord can change. I know my own spiritual compass had to be fixed before God would heal my soul from the damage done by the abuse in my life.

For me, God is restoring "the years the locusts have eaten" (Joel 2:25). I have no regrets about running away. As a matter of fact, I run on a daily basis. The difference is that I now run to the one who brought order and healing into my life, my Lord and my Savior, Jesus Christ.




Trudy Johnson has been an employee of Focus on the Family since August of 1994, working in the Pregnancy Resource Ministry. She has been happily and peacefully remarried for seven years to her husband Lonney, who also works at Focus.





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