For those of you who have been following this series (you can find Part One and Part Two here), thank you. I’ve been encouraged by the feedback I’ve received so far, and I do hope that, as much as the internet will allow, my intentions in writing this series have been clear. As I mentioned in Part Two, I was initially compelled to write on this topic because at PeaceWorks, we receive emails regularly from survivors asking how they might begin sharing their stories and in what ways they might be useful to the greater work of domestic abuse prevention and intervention. My hope, in writing this series, was to provide a resource that may give these women some options to consider as they think through how (if at all) they’d like to see their stories shared and used for the safety and sanity of other victims/survivors and the edification and sanctification of Christ’s Church. It is also my hope that readers won’t hear something I’m not saying. I’m not saying that the potential utility of our suffering stories in any way negates the evil and injustice of our suffering or that our pain is only a meaningful reality in God’s kingdom if we can somehow turn it around and produce something with it. Abuse (in all of its forms and all of its effects) matters to God because its existence is at odds with His righteous character (Psalm 11:7) and is an assault on His image inherent in all of humanity (Genesis 1:26-27). Because of that, one survivor’s story does not have more validity or value than another’s just because it is broadcast to a wider audience. For the women who are not ready or wanting to share their stories but are instead simply focused on surviving each day, carrying the heavy weight of brokenness, disappointment, confusion, and betrayal abuse has brought into their lives, their stories matter and are eternally significant to God regardless of whether the details are ever uttered in the hearing of another human being.
I’d like to tie up this series by briefly considering the public ways God may call a survivor to share her story. I’ve intentionally saved this category for last. Because we live in a culture of public platforms and internet celebrities (both which can seem to rise and fall overnight), it can feel like the only legitimate way to share our story is to gain a following by writing a blog or book, starting a podcast or YouTube channel, or scheduling a speaking tour. This large-scale approach to storytelling can have far-reaching effects and the Lord may give you opportunities to use these more public methods to communicate your experiences to a broader community, but it’s important to remember, as I already mentioned above, the size of our audience is not what gives our stories meaning.
That being said, today I would like to focus, not on specific public opportunities available to survivors (as they are almost unlimited in possibility and, I think, generally the easiest to recognize), but rather on how we can most redemptively steward these opportunities when they present themselves. If you choose to share your story publicly, let me encourage you to prayerfully consider that just as with interpersonal storytelling, the goal of public storytelling should always be to leverage our stories for compassion, care, and confrontation. A more public platform will simply provide a larger stage on which to pursue those ends and greater diversity of audience.
Keeping these goals of compassion, care, and confrontation in mind is critical. We have to remember our purpose, the ends we are working toward. But the means by which we pursue these ends are equally important. The method, tone, and character of the one telling the story will always affect the hearer’s reception of and/or response to what is being said (though, of course, like in all forms communication, the storyteller is never solely responsible for how their message is received). There is a drastic difference between leveraging our stories toward these redemptive and restorative ends for God’s glory and the up-building of His Church and lobbing them at other image-bearers as destructive or vengeful weapons. If we truly want to see lasting change in families, churches, institutions, and communities, then we will want to be careful, methodical, and winsome about the ways we choose share our story. In my experience, it is the survivors who communicate their experiences with humility (as well as strength) and grace (as well as conviction), operating with a redemptive, God-glorifying, Church-edifying aim that are most likely to be given further opportunities within the Church to educate the ignorant and advocate for the abused as their voices are not only heard and heeded. And isn’t that what we ultimately want?
As women who have personally experienced God’s redemption in our lives, my hope is that, by sharing our stories, the hearers (whether we are interacting with them interpersonally or publicly) would ultimately be invited to behold the glorious God we worship as we tell of who He’s shown Himself to be and what He’s done in our lives (Psalm 9:1-2, 9-12; 34:3; 66:16; 105:2). If you share this desire, I hope this series has been a help and encouragement as you pursue that redemptive end.