Worshiping a God who allowed me to become the sick fantasy of a small band of demon worshipers and become the focus child for their ritual, is a step I still cannot take. I cannot find a safe place – physically or mentally - to even think about it.
It happened so long ago, yet my body remembers and my heart and soul continue to cry out for forgiveness - such a conflicting feeling. Where is the justice? It has ruined my life and I was just a child.
I am not a child of God, no parent would allow that to happen to one of their own. I don’t feel like a child of my mother, either. (I don’t know if my parents knew what had been going on.) I have always felt like an injured kitten, walking in the middle of a busy highway – and no one cares.
So, in this sense, God is cruel. He made me live through it, though many times I’ve begged him to end it.
My T often tells me that I will someday be a witness against the bad guys, so "someday" will not come soon enough for me, if indeed, it comes at all.
I've changed my mind - Easter is a difficult holiday. I keep searching...