This guest blog is written by Rebecca Medina Stewart, my dear friend and author of the book, Seen: Experiencing God’s Tenderness After Brokenness. Rebecca shares her story of getting unstuck from trauma following sexual assault.
“Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit.” Psalm 51:12 ESV
Disoriented and confused, the streetlights rushed at me in the dark of night. It was a frigid January evening in northern Florida. Frost had begun to collect on parked cars, and a deafening quiet only added to the chill of the overnight hours. I sat quietly on the passenger side of the stranger’s car—a man who, only hours ago, had offered to give me a ride to a party most of my friends were heading to. My girlfriend asked if I would ride with him so she and her boyfriend, who were arguing, could have some privacy. I reluctantly agreed and left with the man in the long black trench coat.
The stranger, who posed as a university student, never took me to the party. Instead, he drove me to a house in a remote location. What happened inside that dark little house would haunt me for years to come.
That night, I was transformed from a naïve, unsuspecting college freshman into a distraught and dysfunctional sexual assault survivor. I had a new label—one I never imagined would be forced on me. On that night, my 18-year-old self died, and a troubled, broken young woman was born.
"On that night, my 18-year-old self died, and a troubled, broken young woman was born." ~Rebecca Medina Stewart
The rush of streetlights began to slow as the car stopped in front of the apartment I shared with three other first-year students. I stumbled out, and the cold air woke me from my fog. I wanted to curl into a ball and vanish into the night. The car and the stranger disappeared, and I stood on my stoop, unsure what to do next. With no keys—or memory of keys—I knocked on the door, my knuckles stinging in the cold. One of my roommates slowly cracked the door open. A look of disbelief crossed her face, and she yelled for the other girls to “come down, quick!”
The girls quickly packed me into the car and rushed me to the hospital. My eyes once again found comfort in the streetlights flashing above. The grueling hours that followed would become the images of my night terrors. I was examined, poked, and prodded—tears falling freely as I gave urine samples, nail clippings, and hair strands. All of this occurred under the hostile glare of fluorescent lights and the sharp smell of rubbing alcohol.
Gone was my peace. Gone was my invincibility. Gone was my identity.
The Aftermath of Trauma
It would be nearly two decades before my breakthrough would come. That night set me on a course of destruction and depression so profound that I regularly pleaded with God to take my life. As the years crept by, I woke in the middle of the night to the terrifying delusion of the man in the black trench coat standing over my bed.
After nearly half a lifetime spent in and out of counseling, I had all the lingo down but was still profoundly broken. Becoming a workaholic helped me cope. Soothing my pain with alcohol or meaningless relationships only compounded the dysfunction. The hatred and shame I carried metastasized like terminal cancer in my spirit. I was headed in a dangerous direction, and something needed to change.
I had tried everything except a relationship with God. I ran from my Creator the day I graduated high school and vowed never to return. I didn’t believe in God or the church, and my thoughts were growing darker. So, I took the most courageous step of my life and ventured into the unknown of a relationship with Jesus. I entered a church again, seeking answers from a God I considered cruel—if He even existed at all.
I sat through Sunday sermons and quietly rebuked the preachers who spoke about the grace and mercy of God. But I kept coming back. Worship songs began to chip away at the hardened exterior I had spent decades reinforcing. Still, I kept coming back. I returned to therapy—this time, Christian counseling. I began to understand how and why my trauma was keeping me stuck. It was grueling and uncomfortable, but I kept coming back.
“Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit.” Psalm 51:12 ESV
Over time, I slowly found myself looking forward to Sunday mornings. I longed for worship music to transport me from this hard place to a holy place in the presence of the Lord. The Sunday morning preacher began to make more sense. I also started to grasp how my trauma was affecting my decision-making.
I was healing. The Holy Spirit was transforming my life, redeeming every shattered piece. A hunger stirred in my spirit, and I began reading a daily devotional and studying scripture.
Healing After Trauma
I’ve come to understand this: there is no quick fix. There is no secret pill or fast-track recovery. But as I began to trust God, He met me where I was and started the work of transformation. I learned how spiritual disciplines—prayer, meditation, scripture, and church community—beautifully complement Christian counseling. Jesus changed my thinking, which changed my habits and ultimately resulted in a radical shift in my life.
“Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”” John 8:12 ESV
When I invited Jesus into my pain, He wrapped me in His loving arms and refused to let me go. That is what a caring and compassionate Father does for His child. I was like a slow-moving caterpillar, experiencing the world from my belly until Jesus tenderly took me by the hand. The power of the gospel has restored my life. Today, I am like a soaring butterfly. Life isn’t perfect, but I have lived to tell what the Lord has done. I am healthy and free from the chains of blame and shame that held me captive for so long.
Looking back, I can see the fingerprints of God all over those dark days. It’s been 32 years since I was sexually assaulted. I am happily married and celebrating the publication of my 60-day devotional devoted to the power of the gospel over trauma.
Jesus kicks down the lies the enemy tells us to keep us stuck in despair. He shines His light into the darkest corners of our hearts, giving us the chance to run to Him. He wipes away every tear and soothes every ounce of pain with His love. Jesus saves and transforms us. When we trust Him, He ensures that nothing we’ve suffered is wasted—not even the worst moments of our lives.
Jesus is real and still in the business of redeeming our pain—but only if we let Him. Will you invite your Father, your Creator, your Beloved Papa into your life today so He can begin this most critical work in your life?
Pray with me:
Oh, Blessed Father,
I long for days filled with laughter and light. I long for joy and peace. But I’ve carried the weight of my brokenness for so long. Lord, show me what to do next. Lead me to those who can help me and redeem my pain. I confess I doubt You can help me, but I have nothing left, and I am in desperate need of a Savior. So please save me, transform me, and restore my life. Jesus, have Your way in my life today.
In Your Precious Name, I pray, Amen.
Rebecca Medina Stewart, a former journalist, and Emmy Award nominee, is actively involved with her husband, Brian, in small group ministries at their local church in South Florida. Rebecca endured a sexual assault during college and subsequently battled shame, depression, and suicidal thoughts for nearly 20 years. Her transformative encounter with a loving and tender God altered the course of her life. Now, she is devoted to helping others navigate their suffering so they can experience the same hope and healing she did.
Rebecca is the author of the new book, Seen: Experiencing God's Tenderness After Brokenness. Order your copy on Amazon or other retailers.
To check out Rebecca’s blog, packed with audio devos and resources, check out the following:
Instagram: @RebeccaMedinaStewart
Facebook: @RebeccaMedinaStewart-Author
Images by Wix.
Comments