A Biblical Response: Mica’s Story - Part 7

Forgiveness, Healing, and Starting Over

When God takes the pieces of a broken life and makes something beautiful.

There is something I have learned after walking with Jesus for many years: God is not afraid of broken people. In fact, broken people are the very people Jesus came to save. The Bible is filled with them. David was broken. Peter was broken. The woman at the well was broken. The prodigal son was broken. Paul had a past he could never erase. And I was broken.

We like to tell our stories after God has cleaned them up. We like the testimony that begins with failure and ends with victory. But sometimes we forget that there was a long road between the two. There were tears. There were consequences. There were things we wished we could undo. There were nights when we didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. And there were moments when all we could do was cry out: “Jesus, help me.” Sometimes that is where healing begins.

Forgiveness Doesn’t Mean It Didn’t Happen

One of the greatest misunderstandings about forgiveness is that forgiving someone means pretending the offense wasn’t serious. It doesn’t. If someone has abused you, forgiveness doesn’t mean abuse wasn’t real. If someone betrayed you, forgiveness doesn’t mean betrayal didn’t hurt. If someone lied to you, forgiveness doesn’t mean the lie suddenly became truth. If someone destroyed something precious, forgiveness doesn’t mean the destruction didn’t happen.

Forgiveness tells the truth about what happened—and then releases vengeance into the hands of God. That’s very different from pretending. Jesus never asked us to call evil good. He calls us to forgive. But He also calls us to walk in truth.

Forgiveness Doesn’t Always Mean Reconciliation

This is another truth the Church needs to understand. Forgiveness and reconciliation are not always the same thing. Reconciliation requires two people. Forgiveness requires one. I can forgive someone who refuses to repent. But I cannot rebuild a healthy relationship with someone who continues to lie, manipulate, abuse or betray me.

There are times when separation is necessary. There are times when boundaries are necessary. There are times when leaving is necessary. And there are times when involving authorities is necessary. None of that means you haven’t forgiven. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is establish a boundary that says: “I forgive you, but I will not allow you to continue hurting me.”

I Understand This More Than I Wish I Did

I have hesitated to share some of my own story because I don’t want my testimony to become the focus. But perhaps this is the moment when I need to say it.

I took my marriage vows seriously. “Until death do us part.” Those words meant something to me. I believed marriage was a covenant. I didn’t want to break that covenant. And because I loved my husband and loved his family, I stayed much longer than I should have. I didn’t want to expose him. I didn’t want to embarrass him. I didn’t want to discredit him. I didn’t want to hurt his parents. I didn’t want to destroy our family. And I didn’t know what to do with the things happening behind closed doors.

There was violence. There was a violent temper. There were holes in furniture. There was a dining room table set for dinner—food and dishes ready—and suddenly that entire table was thrown against the wall. Food was everywhere. We didn’t have money to waste. But the food wasn’t really the issue. Fear was.

I had never grown up in a home like that. My childhood home was loving. I didn’t see my parents fighting in anger. So I didn’t understand what was happening to me. I didn’t know how to process it. And I kept trying to hold everything together.

Sometimes We Stay Because We Love People

There were things happening in my marriage that I now understand should never have been tolerated. There was also sexual behavior that violated the covenant of marriage and deeply wounded me. And still I stayed. Why? Because I loved people. I loved my husband. I loved his family. I didn’t want to destroy anyone else’s life because of what I was experiencing. I thought I was protecting everyone.

But sometimes, in trying to protect everyone else, we lose sight of the fact that God sees us too. He sees the woman hiding her bruises. He sees the wife crying in the bathroom. He sees the person who is terrified to tell anyone. He sees the person who thinks, “If I tell the truth, everything will fall apart.” God sees. And He cares.

Eight Years Is a Long Time

It took me eight years to finally decide I had to leave. And even then, I was still thinking about his future. He was working toward a second college degree. I wanted him to finish it before I left. I wanted him to have the ability to get a decent job. I still cared about him. That’s how complicated these situations can be.

People sometimes ask: “Why didn’t you just leave?” If you have never lived through something like this, you may not understand the question. Leaving isn’t always simple. There may be children. Finances. Family. Fear. Shame. Promises. Faith. Hope. And love. Sometimes you are trying to figure out how to protect yourself without destroying everyone else.

Then Everything Changed

When he realized I wanted a divorce, he obtained an attorney and a restraining order that kept me from seeing my own baby. That broke something inside of me. My child was the most precious person in my life at that time. And suddenly I couldn’t see my own baby. I cannot adequately explain what that did to me.

Eventually, in my brokenness, I ended up in the arms of another man. It was wrong. I won’t excuse it. I won’t blame my circumstances. I sinned. And I suffered the consequences of my sin. But God met me there. Not because my sin was acceptable. Not because He approved of what I had done. He met me because He is merciful.

God Met Me at the Bottom

There was a darkness in my life that I had never known before. I reached a place of suicidal thoughts. I don’t say that casually. I don’t say it to dramatize my story. I say it because there are places of human despair that are difficult to describe unless you have been there.

There are moments when the pain becomes so overwhelming that you simply want to get off the planet. You want the pain to stop. You don’t necessarily want to die. You just desperately want the suffering to end. And that’s where Jesus found me. At the bottom. At the end of myself.

And I surrendered. Completely. I surrendered to the Lordship of Jesus Christ. And everything changed. Not necessarily overnight. Not all at once. But the direction of my life changed.

God Doesn’t Waste Our Brokenness

This is one of the greatest lessons I have learned. God doesn’t approve of our sin. He doesn’t approve of abuse. He doesn’t approve of adultery. He doesn’t approve of betrayal. But He can take the broken pieces of our lives and use them for His glory.

He doesn’t waste our pain. He can take the place where we were wounded and make it a place where we minister to others. He can take the place where we failed and teach us humility. He can take the tears we cried in secret and use them to comfort someone else. He can take our testimony and turn it into a weapon against the enemy. That’s redemption.

Healing Is Often a Process

When I surrendered my life to Jesus, I thought perhaps everything would suddenly be fixed. But that’s not always how healing works. Sometimes God heals us layer by layer. He deals with one wound. Then another. He exposes something we didn’t even know was there. Then He begins to heal it. He teaches us how to think differently. How to forgive. How to trust. How to love. How to establish healthy boundaries. How to recognize unhealthy patterns. How to walk in freedom.

Healing isn’t always instantaneous. Sometimes it is a journey. And sometimes God uses other people along the way. Counselors. Pastors. Friends. Mentors. People who have walked through similar valleys. People who aren’t afraid to sit with us in our pain.

Your Past Doesn’t Have to Be Your Destiny

I want someone reading this who has made terrible mistakes to hear me. Your mistake is not your identity. Your worst day is not your identity. Your divorce is not your identity. Your abuse is not your identity. Your addiction is not your identity. Your sexual sin is not your identity. Your failure is not your identity. If you belong to Jesus, your identity is found in Him.

The enemy wants you to spend the rest of your life staring at your past. Jesus wants you to look at Him. The enemy says: “Look what you did.” Jesus says: “Look what I have done.” The enemy says: “You are finished.” Jesus says: “I am making all things new.”

What About Mica?

This is why Mica’s story has affected me so deeply. I didn’t know her personally. I cannot tell you what was happening inside her heart. I cannot tell you what she was thinking in her final days. And I will not pretend to know things I cannot know.

But I do know what it feels like to be so overwhelmed by circumstances that you cannot see a way forward. And that is why my heart aches for her. Because I believe there was still a future for her. There was still purpose. There was still healing that could have happened. There were still chapters that could have been written. And that’s what makes this tragedy so heartbreaking.

Sometimes people don’t need another person to tell them how badly they have failed. They need someone to help them believe that tomorrow is still possible.

The Church Should Be That Place

What if the Church became the place where broken people could come and tell the truth? What if a woman could say: “My husband is hurting me.” And instead of hearing, “Just submit more,” she heard, “We believe you. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

What if someone struggling with pornography could say: “I can’t stop.” And instead of being shamed, someone said, “Let’s walk this out together.” What if a pastor could say: “I’m struggling.” And instead of losing his dignity, he found accountability and help? What if a teenager could walk through the doors of a church and know: “These adults are safe.” That’s the Church Jesus wants.

Grace Doesn’t Excuse Sin

I want to be very clear. Grace is not permission. Forgiveness is not approval. Healing is not pretending. Redemption is not erasing history. And starting over does not mean there are no consequences. But neither does your past have the final word. Jesus does.

Peter denied Jesus three times. And Jesus restored him. David committed terrible sin. And God still used him. Paul persecuted Christians. And God transformed him into an apostle. The thief on the cross had nothing left to offer. And Jesus gave him paradise. That’s grace.

You Can Start Again

Maybe you are reading this and thinking: “I’ve gone too far.” No. You haven’t. Maybe you think: “I’ve made too many mistakes.” Bring them to Jesus. Maybe you think: “My marriage is destroyed.” Bring the pieces to Jesus. Maybe you think: “I’ve wasted years.” Give the years that remain to Jesus. Maybe you think: “Nobody could ever forgive me.” Jesus already offers forgiveness to the repentant heart. Maybe you think: “My life is over.” It isn’t.

As long as you have breath, God can write another chapter. I know. Because He did it for me.

From Trials to Triumph

Years ago, I wrote a book called From Trials to Triumph. I didn’t write that title because my life had been perfect. I wrote it because I learned something: Trials don’t have to be the end of your story. God can use them. God can redeem them. God can transform them. And sometimes the very place where the enemy thought he had destroyed you becomes the place where God demonstrates His greatest victory.

That’s why I can look back at some of the darkest chapters of my life and say: “God was there.” I didn’t see Him at the time. I didn’t understand what He was doing. But He was there.

One Day at a Time

Healing doesn’t always happen in one dramatic moment. Sometimes you get up tomorrow morning and simply take the next step. One day at a time. One foot in front of the other. You forgive again. You pray again. You trust again. You get counseling. You set a boundary. You tell the truth. You refuse to go back. You open the Word. You worship. You cry. And you keep walking.

And eventually, you look back and realize: “Look how far God has brought me.” That’s grace. That’s healing. That’s redemption.

Your Story Is Not Over

If Mica’s story has taught me anything, it is this: We must never underestimate the power of brokenness. Broken people can make terrible choices. Broken people can be manipulated. Broken people can hurt others. Broken people can hurt themselves. But broken people can also be healed. And that’s where Jesus comes in.

He is still the healer of broken hearts. He is still the deliverer of captives. He is still the restorer of what has been lost. He is still the One who takes ashes and gives beauty.

So if you are broken today, please hear me: This is not the end. If you’ve sinned, repent. If you’ve been wounded, seek help. If you’ve been abused, get somewhere safe. If you’ve hurt someone, take responsibility. If you’ve been betrayed, allow yourself to heal. If you’ve lost everything, hold on to Jesus. And if you don’t know what to do next—just take the next step toward Him.

Because the God who met me in my darkest place is still meeting people there today. And He is still whispering the same message:

“You are not finished. I am not finished with you. There is still life ahead. There is still purpose ahead. There is still hope.”

And sometimes the greatest miracle isn’t that God kept us from ever being broken. Sometimes the greatest miracle is that He took our brokenness and made it beautiful. That’s the Gospel.

That’s grace. That’s redemption. That’s Jesus.