Naked

When God first called me to share my story, I was terrified.

As a teenager, I had vowed to take it to the grave. I believed that speaking up would cause more harm than good. In my eyes, silence wasn’t just safe—it felt righteous.

But then came the day when I felt it deep in my spirit: it was time to break the silence. I could’ve died, for lack of better words. My stomach turned. I felt physically ill. I didn’t understand why God would ask me to reveal something so vulnerable—something I found honestly shameful.

But I obeyed.

I shared my story because I knew then, and I know now, that God knows best.

Through my ministry, I became exposed—completely laid bare, with nothing left to hide. And it was in sharing the most disappointing, uncomfortable, and shameful part of my life that I finally found freedom from the grip the enemy had on me.

I was no longer afraid of how people would see me.

No longer afraid of someone finding out.

No longer enslaved to a vow of silence I made in ignorance.

Over the past few years, God has helped me see myself in ways I never could have otherwise. I used to shame myself just for being human. And ironically, even as I looked to God, this habit of self-condemnation sometimes intensified as I became more aware of my sin.

For years, I blamed myself for being sexually abused.

Perhaps I did something to provoke him. Perhaps my lack of fight and silence welcomed the abuse. Perhaps his actions were justifiable. Perhaps it was truly me in the wrong.

After fully surrendering my life to Christ, God began healing my heart and correcting my understanding regarding my experience.

As I embarked on my healing journey, I decided I wouldn’t allow my healing to revolve around him. I removed him from the process completely choosing not to acknowledge his part in anything. It was my way of moving forward. But in removing him completely from my story, I was unable to challenge the false belief that I was to blame for something I was far too young to understand, because who was actually to blame was no longer a factor in my eyes.

I had to realize that I could see him for who he truly was at that time of his life, and acknowledge his wrong actions without making my healing journey all about him and how he hurt me.

Recently, God called me to look back again. Not to dwell—but to heal. And as I did, His truth began to break through the facade of lies. The truth freed me.

I came to realize that neither my attacker nor I were the true enemy. The real enemy was Satan—the one who seeks to steal, kill, and destroy (John 10:10). Ultimately, we were both victims.

It was never my shame to carry.

It was shame that belonged to someone who allowed themself to be used by the enemy.

And Lord willing, through Christ, even they can one day be freed from that shame as well.

There is no shame in God.

Shame is rooted in condemnation—and Scripture reminds us that Christ did not come to condemn us, but to save us (John 3:17).

Here’s what I’ve learned:

• Your testimony lies in the things you consider weaknesses: brokenness, disappointments, and even your deepest desires.

• Because our strength is in God, we are not weak.

• Because God is love, there is no shame in Him.

• Secrecy—especially when rooted in fear of shame—is what turns something into a weakness.

• What the enemy doesn’t want you to know is this: exposure doesn’t disarm you. It empowers you.

Exposure transforms “shame” into a weapon for the Kingdom.

Exposure makes room for God’s grace to be on display.

Exposure is what frees you from the enemy’s grasp.

So if God is calling you to speak, know this:

You’re not stepping into weakness.

You’re stepping into freedom.