from the wife, HER Voice, Hope Redefined, how to help with porn addiction, pornography addiction, recovery, rediscovering yourself, self care, the everyday, Uncategorized

Rediscovering Yourself

I could not tell you the day or even year that I completely lost myself. I didn’t know that I had lost myself. It was gradual.

It started when I began dating my husband, and bit by bit in the name of love, I gave pieces of myself away. First, it was my affections, then my discernment – including my views and opinions. Then my dreams, goals and values slipped away – and eventually, my soul. It’s been a journey of 40 years. I met my husband in college and I quit for him. It was in the late 70’s. We married in the 80’s and the sexual betrayal has come in different forms and different seasons. There was actually a phase of 8 years where our home was free of it. We all flourished during those years, only to have the use of the internet to revive my husband’s drug of choice. The gas-lighting and discrediting started all over again in more force than ever. There would be times when I felt good and ok – when I was with my family of origin or my children, when I was alone and eventually developed a more intimate relationship with the Lord, with friends or in books or music I enjoyed. But as time went on and traumas were not attended to, those things became even more obscure.

It was not until just a few years ago when someone asked me what I wanted and what my desires were that I realized I felt selfish even answering that question. I didn’t have any desires anymore. Life for me had lost its colors, its tones, its music, its words. Living in a blur of gas-lighting left me confused, weary and hopeless.

I needed to realize first of all that I had lost myself. So in essence it is a prerequisite to rediscovery. Then I needed the power of the Holy Spirit to demand- yes, demand – that I be looked at as a holy daughter of the King of the Universe.

Rediscovering myself was a type of resurrection.  It’s like dormant spring bulbs that hold life but are buried unseen under dirt and snow, seemingly dead. Yet, even before I have shed my winter coat in the early spring, they bravely shoot their green stalks through the dirt promising a display of beauty in the days to come. 

At one time or another, I need to rediscover myself. So much in life brings on loss, burials and the need for resurrections and rediscoveries. However, since betrayal trauma destroys the sense of reality, it brings on a toxic brand of disorientation. It makes you second guess yourself and your faith. It consumes energy to recover and to prevent the pain from happening again…only to have it happen again. Meanwhile, everyone else is moving on leaving you in isolation, shame and in need of resurrection.

promising a display of beauty in the days to come

There are many components that have played a part in my journey of rediscovery. I can’t possibly be comprehensive here but would like to share a few things that have been fundamental:

  1. Knowing God. Over and over in different phases of rediscovery I have gone back to focusing on the attributes of God. He is my creator and knows me best of all. He created me in His image, to reflect Him. This gives me a starting place and a foundation when everything else in my world is imploding. There are plenty of good books on this topic, but I like to jot God’s characteristics down as I discover them as I read the Bible in my devotions.
  2. Finding my identity in the Word of God.  I write down the statements about God’s view of me and His truths as I study His Word. Sometimes I meditate on one phrase for a day or even a month. One year, I meditated each day on being rooted and grounded in love . . .the breadth, length, height and depth of the love of Christ.
  3. Journaling. This gives me a place to process and validate my emotions. Sometimes I need to just write and throw it away.
  4. Exercising (and being ok with not being athletic or competitive). My gentle yoga instructor always opens the class by reminding us, “There is no judgement here.” That has been one of the most freeing statements for me.
  5. Going outside. Every day, even if just for a few minutes. It reminds me of my Creator and opens my eyes and mind.
  6. Saying “no” to things I don’t like or have the time for without having to explain or apologize. 
  7. Saying “goodbye” to seasons of my life. Sometimes we must get rid of things that don’t fit anymore to make room for new things. There are things that I have abandoned like old projects or hobbies. There are friends that I just don’t see anymore because our lives don’t intersect. And that is ok.
  8. Revisiting things I used to enjoy but haven’t done for a while. My first step was to make a list of all the things I wanted to do without thinking about the challenges of putting these things in my life. 
  9. Spiritual Retreat. This saved my sanity in a very dark time. I went to a retreat center that allowed for silence and solitude.
  10. Coaching. I have had counseling and that was a good place to start but it only took me so far. Coaching has enabled me to look forward.

Rediscovery is a journey. It has seasons of starts and stops.  The Lord inevitably brings something into my life to refresh me on my journey. This is where my journey intersects with Hope Redefined. I heard Lyschel on the Braveful Summit and was inspired to call and pursue coaching with Amy Nagy.  As I have been working on skills to work through the ruts, I have found freedom in my day and clarity in my thoughts so that I can recognize myself and embrace the joy of rediscovery. 

Here are some additional resources in this season that helped me on my way:

Knowing God  by J.I. Packer

A Praying Life by Paul E. Miller

J Curve by Paul E. Miller

Anything by Sharon Garlough Brown

Many Habits: Smaller Habits, Bigger Results by Stephen Guise

Podcast: The Next Right Thing by Emilie P. Freeman

Every journey of rediscovery is unique. May you live in the freedom to explore your own path.

The sole purpose of HER Voice is to provide an opportunity for those who have walked in our shared experience of betrayal to tell their stories and open their hearts. These stories are meant to be personal testimonies from women who are still unpacking pieces of their hearts and looking to the one who is the ultimate Healer. Our God is creative and no two journeys look the same. These posts are authored by women at various places in their journey towards healing and hope, so please understand they are in process like all of us.
 We encourage you to use self care when reading other’s testimonies. These blogs are not meant to “tell you how to do it,” but are meant to encourage and provide hope for others, wherever they may be in their healing process. 

boundaries, featured, grief, HER Voice, Hope Redefined, how to help with porn addiction, pornography addiction, recovery, the everyday, Uncategorized

The Gift of Grief

“I just want to get it all out so it’ll be gone,” I said bitterly. 

“It’s not a one-and-done kind of thing. You’ll get better at grieving,” she said. My friend Alice was a fellow traveler in my 12-Step program, but she had more experience with grief than I did

“I don’t want to get better at it. I want it to be done,” I asserted, not so much to Alice as to the incessant writhing in my stomach. I’m pretty sure I raised my eyebrows as I spoke. If I’d been talking to my children, they’d have known it was the last straw, and they’d better quit wreaking havoc before mom totally lost it. 

I grew up in a dysfunctional home – one parent with mental illness and both struggling with addictions. I was too busy keeping my head above water to feel my feelings, and when I did express any sort of emotion, it was quickly shut down. I learned to be self-sufficient, easy-going, and to diffuse every bomb with a joke, so as not to allow those pesky feelings to surface. Add to that being a seven on the Enneagram, and you can see how everything in me is built to avoid negative emotions. I can see the silver lining in the darkest of clouds. It’s a gift most of the time, but the danger is that I can easily stuff my negative feelings rather than deal with them. By the time I had my first child at 26, there was a hurricane brewing. 

Perhaps it was being a new mom and having a baby to protect. Maybe it was that I was just so damn tired. Whatever the reasons, there came a moment when I knew I had to do something different. I set some “boundaries” with my parents right after my first child was born–both a new word and a new behavior for me. My parents didn’t take too well to that, and the conflict that arose sent me on a journey of self-discovery and healing. While those words may stir up images of leather journals, steaming cups of coffee and self-help books, for me it felt more like being awake for open-heart surgery. 

On the recommendation of my therapist, I attended a 12-Step program called Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Families. Like Alcoholics Anonymous, the program gives people a process by which to participate in their own healing. I liked the idea of having a plan. I knew it would be painful, but at least there was an end. If I made it to Step 12, I could close the book and move on, right?

In ACA I began unpacking all those stuffed feelings. All the work of identifying, surrendering, and taking inventory of my (and my family’s) dysfunction meant going back to old wounds, naming losses, crying, talking about my feelings (ugh!), and saying no to my usual coping mechanisms. In a nutshell, it meant grieving–not just the things I’d lost, but also the things that I never had. As a black-belt people pleaser, I did all the exercises the program recommended. I made lists. I spent time reflecting on each item as a loss, asking God to heal that wound. I groaned as I set a timer for my grief work so I would be forced to sit through it and not just skip over the painful feelings the exercise stirred up. 

I attended meetings weekly. Every meeting would include reading some of the ACA literature. The Promises were my favorite: a drink of optimism in the dry desert of reality I was crossing. The last one says, “Gradually, with our Higher Power’s help, we learn to expect the best and get it.” Yes! That’s the guarantee I was working for. Forget the silver lining, I want the whole bright blue sky! I worked the program to finish the program. I so looked forward to closing the book and getting on with living my best life. That’s why getting to “the end” was such a disappointment. 

Step 10 says that we, “Continued to take personal inventory, and, when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.” I should have seen immediately how I’d been duped, but I proceeded to read my chapter and do my homework like a good little rule follower. The assignment for Step 10 was to make a list of questions related to our struggles. Did I play the victim today? Did I say “yes” out of guilt? Did I avoid grief rather than experience it? Then I was to place these questions by my bedside and read them every night as a way of maintenance. And there it was. Maintenance?! For how long?! I searched for a time frame in the text that followed, but there was none. The implication was terrifying. I’d just traversed an entire desert, and I wanted to swim in the rivers of living water on the other side. Instead I found myself, like the Israelites having just fled Egypt, next to nowhere on the side of a mountain, wondering what the Egyptians were having for dinner that night. I’d have to continue the work of grieving and healing to pursue wholeness. 

“I feel really angry. I wanted this to fix everything. I wanted to have surgery and remove the parasite, but instead, I feel like I’ve been diagnosed with a chronic grief issue and just given a bunch of tools for dealing with it,” I shared at my next meeting. I hoped to incite some righteous anger, or least some smug indignation from my fellow travelers. “Thanks for sharing,” they all said in unison. And the meeting continued. 

Despite the injustice I felt, I completed the program. And I returned the following week for another meeting. And one after. And then another… for about seven more years. While I couldn’t articulate it at the time, something unexpected happened during the course of all that grieving: I got better at it.

The sky wasn’t bright blue when I finished Step 12, but it was bluer than before. It continues to brighten. There are days when I need to go back to Step 1, recognize that I’m powerless and surrender to God. There are days where I need to act on Step 9 and make amends for a mistake. And there’s plenty of grieving to do as life goes on with all its challenges. I still don’t like grieving, but I let myself do it. I think I understand now what Alice meant when she said that I’d get better at grieving. It’s work. And like the Twelve Steps, it’s not a one-and-done, but rather an ongoing work. 

God, as I’ve come to understand Him, is not a one-and-done kind of God. He’s infinite, and His redemptive work is infinite. In my humanity I can’t imagine a bluer blue than blue, but when the sky clears a little more, and things get a shade brighter, I’m once again amazed at the healing that’s possible. What’s more, I’ve become thankful for processes that allow me to participate in my own healing.

Grief has been a big one.

When God rescued the Israelites from Egypt, He led them through the desert. It’s no wonder they were angry and disappointed to arrive at Mt. Sinai. They were probably wanting to close the book and be done, but that wasn’t God’s plan. He gave them a process. Just like the sacrificial system is the process by which God reconciled us to Himself, grief is the process He gifted us so that we could reconcile our broken reality with that for which we were created. And like the sacrificial system, grief is a messy work.

We can approach it with groaning and complaining, making golden calves out of our brilliant coping strategies, or we can surrender to it and let it heal us one day at a time. 

Written and contributed by Chera Meredith

The sole purpose of HER Voice is to provide an opportunity for those who have walked in our shared experience of betrayal to tell their stories and open their hearts. These stories are meant to be personal testimonies from women who are still unpacking pieces of their hearts and looking to the one who is the ultimate Healer. Our God is creative and no two journeys look the same. These posts are authored by women at various places in their journey towards healing and hope, so please understand they are in process like all of us.
 We encourage you to use self care when reading other’s testimonies. These blogs are not meant to “tell you how to do it,” but are meant to encourage and provide hope for others, wherever they may be in their healing process. 

boundaries, featured, Hope Redefined, how to help with porn addiction, pornography addiction, recovery, the everyday

Boundaries After Betrayal

If you’ve been on the journey of recovery from sexual betrayal for any length of time, you’ve probably come across the term “boundaries.” That’s because betrayal trauma experts know that boundary work is one of the most important skills you can learn to not only survive the betrayal, but to regain sure footing and confidently live beyond it. Today on the blog, I want to give an introduction to boundary work. We’ll look at what it is and why we need it, as well as what God says about it. There is no way I, nor anyone else, could cover all there is to know about boundaries in a single article or even in a book! But, I hope this will be helpful for now, and at the end, I’ll give you some resources so you can continue your work.

The Oxford Dictionary defines the word “boundary” as “a line that marks the limits of an area; a dividing line.” The simplest way for me to understand the concept of a boundary early on was to think about a fence around my property. “What does the fence do?” my therapist asked. “Well,” I responded, “it keeps out people and animals we don’t want on our property, and it keeps us safe within our property.” Bingo! From there, I could easily agree that I needed some boundaries in my life…physical, emotional, mental, social and spiritual boundaries. I wanted to keep IN things like peace, safety, and joy, and I wanted to keep OUT things like deceit, manipulation, and anything harmful. Sometimes in my practice, a betrayed spouse would misunderstand boundary work, thinking that she could manipulate or force behavior change by setting boundaries. But creating and maintaining boundaries is not about forcing behavior change in another person. Instead, boundaries help create safety in each of us and in our relationships. They say “This is where I start and stop,” “This is what I will/won’t accept,” “This is what I will do if you choose to ___ “, and so much more.

There are several versions of this quote floating around out there, but it’s worth sharing, even though I’m not sure where it originated: “How people treat you is a reflection of them. What you accept is a reflection of you.” Read that again. This is Boundaries 101. 

As I said before, if you’ve been in recovery, you’ve heard of boundaries. It’s kind of a pop-term that has definitely gained interest since Henry Cloud and John Townsend released their book, Boundaries: When to Say Yes; How to Say No, in 1992. But, as culturally popular as it may be, it’s more important to understand that setting and enforcing boundaries is a Biblical principle. As it says in Ecclesiastes 1:9, “there is nothing new under the sun,” and boundaries are no different. Cloud and Townsend didn’t actually come up with this concept; the Holy Trinity did before the heavens and Earth were formed. You only have to look at creation to see the existence and use of boundaries: oceans stop, lands begin; days are numbered; Adam and Eve have free reign in the Garden except for the forbidden fruit, and God enforced consequences when they didn’t honor His boundary. We can also look at Jesus’ life to see how he dealt with boundaries, remembering that He was without sin and completely loving. Jesus said “No” to inappropriate behavior such as demands (Luke 5:15-16), entitlement (Matthew 12:46-50), cynicism (Luke 23:8-9), pride (Matthew 13:58), abuse (Luke 4:28-30), baiting questions (Matthew 21:23-27, 22:15-22), and manipulation (Matthew 16:23). Jesus knew that he had needs that could only be met through time with the Father (Matthew 6:6; Mark 14:32-42). Jesus was honest and direct (Matthew 5:37). Jesus set priorities (Mark 12:29-31; Mark 1:38). Jesus sought to please God, not people (John 5:44). Jesus met His own personal needs (Matthew 26:18, 20; Mark 1:16, 3:23, 4:38; Luke 7:36; John 10:40, 12:2). And finally, we are commanded in 1 Thessalonians 4:4 to “control our own body (or possess our own vessel) in holiness and honor.” I’m going to end this section with a quote from one of my favorite modern-day theologians, Rachel Jankovic. It really summarizes what should inform all of our boundary work:

God’s Word is the perfect law of liberty because it both commands us and protects us. It is a Living Word. To know your boundaries, know your God and His Word.”

In addition to understanding what boundaries are, why you need them, and what God says about them, I also want you to know that there are many challenges to doing this work. The part of your brain that has been damaged by betrayal trauma needs boundaries in order to create safety, in order to heal. But, it’s the damaged part of your brain that makes it so difficult to do that. This is why getting support for this work is absolutely essential. It is priceless to have an experienced, trusted person tell you that you’re not crazy, that your needs and wants are valid, and to help you navigate through setting boundaries that will help you heal.

It is for this reason that I am inviting you to plug into Hope Online, a community of Hope Redefined. A webinar and group course on boundaries is coming soon, along with lots of other great resources to help you on your journey. As I said at the beginning of this blog article, there is no way to cover everything here. However, we will get super practical and give you chances to ask questions and get lots of guidance and practice in doing your own boundary work in the webinar and group course.

I hope you’ll join us!

from the wife, HER Voice, Hope Redefined, pornography addiction, recovery, the everyday, Uncategorized

Do You Believe I Can Redeem All Of This?

If you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.’ ‘If you can?’ said Jesus. ‘Everything is possible for one who believes.’ Mark 9:22-23 (emphasis added)

The taste of grape juice lingered on my lips. I had just left a Bible study where communion was given at the end as we listened and sought the Lord to speak to the innermost depths in our hearts. While resting in the presence of the Lord, each one of us asked the Lord for the bread and juice to symbolically soak into the crevices, the brokenness, and heal parts of our hearts only able to be healed by the One, the Healer.

That whole day I had been crying out to the Lord in a variety of ways. Asking for encouragement, asking Him to heal the broken areas of my heart, grieving losses.
A friend shared a testimony of how the Lord had healed her heart and asked her to let go of hurts, to cross a line and decide to let go, no longer holding onto the hurts of her past. And in a challenge, an exhortation from our Lord, asked if we all would be able to do the same.

God often uses a process to heal. Could I believe in a miracle healing? Could I believe, if I just chose to step across the line, that all would be healed? My heart wanted to believe. I so wanted to believe. As I waited for my turn to go up to take communion, in faith I whispered under my breath, “Lord, help my unbelief, Lord… I believe. “

On the way home, the Lord asked me a question, one I needed to be asked.

photo courtesy of

Do you believe I can redeem all of this?

This is an interesting question because I’ve seen the Lord redeem so much in my life.
He redeemed the worst decision of my life–to have an abortion. Now I have opportunities to travel and minister to other women who have had abortions. He has even redeemed details of the abortion and He has redeemed that day. He has blessed me with three beautiful, amazing children. He has blessed me beyond anything I could ask, hope or imagine. He has vindicated me and canceled my debt. Instead of shame (which is what I deserved), He has given me double honor. Yes Lord, I believe.

If the Lord can redeem something as horrid as abortion, He surely could redeem this situation. Hope restored. Redeemed hope. Yes Lord, I believe.

For those reading this today, I don’t know where you are in your journey. I don’t know if you are full of faith for your healing or desperately searching for a glimmer of hope to hold onto. Belief can be birthed in the despair of desperation. I have seen Jesus redeem. For you and for me today, I am speaking to our faith, encouraging belief.

Therefore, I ask you the same question He asked me, “Do you believe I can redeem all of this?” It is why Jesus gave His life. It is why He came. He came to redeem. It is the whole point of the gospel message. Lord, I believe.

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for sending Jesus and that He gave His life to redeem all, not just some things, but all things. There is no “If you can”, Lord. I know you can. Lord, I believe. Thank you for redeeming all things. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

The sole purpose of HER Voice is to provide an opportunity for those who have walked in our shared experience of betrayal to tell their stories and open their hearts. These stories are meant to be personal testimonies from women who are still unpacking pieces of their hearts and looking to the one who is the ultimate Healer. Our God is creative and no two journeys look the same. These posts are authored by women at various places in their journey towards healing and hope, so please understand they are in process like all of us.
 We encourage you to use self care when reading others testimonies. These blogs are not meant to “tell you how to do it,” but are meant to encourage and provide hope for others, wherever they may be in their healing process. 

from the wife, HER Voice, pornography addiction, recovery, the everyday, Uncategorized

Slow Change

I hate exercise. But I love cycling. I can’t even call it exercise because I love it that much. I’m not talking about a spinning class or riding a stationary bicycle, I’m talking about taking my bike out on a trail and riding across gravel and crunchy leaves and over old bridges.

A few months ago I was blessed with the gift of a few hours of time to myself, as for the first time ever, my kids were in school at the same time. I made a promise to myself not to spend that time cleaning or running errands, but biking on my trusty old mountain bike, one of my favorite past times. And it was glorious.

One afternoon a couple of weeks ago, the weather was finally cooler and it was an ideal autumn day. I set out on a ride with my playlist in full swing and I have to say, I was feeling pretty good about myself. Each week I had been able to push myself further and further, and it had been a long time since I’ve had something I’ve truly wanted to invest in for myself. I was rocking it. Then, bam! Out of nowhere, my pedals started spinning aimlessly and my bike stopped moving. I switched gears in a panic, causing my bike to completely lock up. I’m stuck. Just like that, I’m a walker – you know, those people I always pity as I’m riding, because riding gets the job done so much quicker. I can see more scenery and accomplish more in shorter time period. Not so with walking. So, I started the slow walk back to the car, which took double the time. And as each helpful citizen passed and offered to help me out, the amazing feeling I had earlier slowly dwindled. I’m humbled as well as extremely bummed. I wasn’t able to conquer the thing I love doing most, nor the goals I set for myself at the beginning of this new season.

Here I am two weeks later and I’m back on the trail. Only still walking as I wait for my “new bike fund” to grow. I’m forced to go slow, for now. Instead of making it to the winding part of the trail with the creek to my left, I can only make it to the old bridge about halfway down my usual route. It feels like I’m crawling.

Quite honestly, my fitness life isn’t the only thing feels like it’s moving at a snail’s pace. Many things do in this season, including my husband’s recovery. Despite the amazing progress he has made over the past couple of years in the way of his addiction, his progress has now leveled off. Praise God he has been porn free for nearly two years, but there is a piece of his heart that is still holding on to the day in and day out struggles. Like my bike ride, my husband’s progress at first was drastic and encouraging, but eventually it slowed to a jog, and then a walk, and now it feels like a crawl. Sometimes it feels he will never be truly free.

Over the course of our marriage, especially in the early days, I tried everything that I thought would bring freedom to my husband. As we all have done, I took it upon myself to do anything that I thought would conquer this problem. I got angry and expressed my hurt in unhealthy ways. I didn’t get angry enough and tried to ignore the problem. I sent him articles, book recommendations, support group options and videos that I thought maybe, just maybe, might finally change his heart. I checked countless search histories behind his back to try to find something I could use that maybe would force him to give this up.

I cannot conquer this sin for him.

But, none of these things ever worked. I cannot conquer this sin for him. I cannot conquer it any more than I can will my bike to start working again, even though I can clearly see parts of the bike’s mechanics disconnected from the bike itself. It needs repairs that I am in no way capable of doing myself. My bike needs a skilled repair man and my husband needs his heart in the hands of a mighty God.

And so, I felt God whisper a request to me at the start of this year. He was asking me to let go. To surrender my husband to Him. To take the burden of trying to keep up with his progress or lack thereof, and hand it over. Despite the huge changes my husband had made, there was still more needing to be done that only God could do. Only God could conquer my husband’s heart.

All of what God was asking me to do came together one night as I came to the story in Genesis 32 of Jacob face to face encounter with God. This story takes place the night before Jacob is to meet his brother Esau – the brother he deceived long ago. The brother that as far as Jacob knows, wants to kill him. The scriptures tell us Jacob was afraid for his life, therefore his typical planning and scheming nature kicks in. But here, on the eve of this meeting, Jacob, the expert deceiver, could no longer rely on his own lies and schemes. God meets him and wrestles with him. In this moment, Jacob’s only option was to rely on God’s blessing. He had nothing else. The words of David Guzik’s commentary (Enduring Word really hit home for me:

“This is an invaluable place for everyone to come to: where God conquers us. There is something to be said for every man doing his wrestling with God, and then acknowledging God’s greatness after having been defeated. We must know we serve a God who is greater than us, and we cannot conquer anything until He conquers us.”

Something else interesting about this story – God wrestled with Jacob. He approached Jacob, not the other way around. God finds us in our sinful state, our pain, our shame and our brokenness – and he takes our hearts in His hands and remakes us. He conquers us. I’ve witnessed this first hand in my own heart over the past two years. I did not ask for God to come into my life and expose the most hurtful parts of my husband’s sin, but through it my heart was conquered and changed in ways I still am unable to fully understand.

So for months now, I’ve prayed what feels like a risky prayer for my husband: Conquer. Lord, conquer my husband’s heart. Risky in the sense that I am scared of how God might go about that. But, like a skilled bike repair man, this is His business and I can trust Him. I can see the changes in my husband, bit by bit. The wrestling is happening, even if it is at a snail’s pace.

My walks on the trail have now become quiet times of reflection. I can still take in the scenery, even though I don’t make it to all of my favorite landmarks. And there is still beauty in this season, as I vacillate between words of praise to God, then to questions and frustrations and sometimes just silence. Don’t get me wrong, I will be so happy the day I can race down the trail on my bike, but for now, I’m in a season of slow change remembering that God can conquer it all.