Hey there, my name's Amber Mauldin. I'm a Christian, wife, and mother to the most amazing 2 children EVER. I get the pleasure of staying home to raise my five-year-old and three-year-old and when I'm not wiping noses and playing make-believe, I'm in front of my laptop typing away. I wrote a memoir and am on the road to publication. I am a public speaker and eager to share my testimony in front of any group, small or large. If you're interested in having me speak at your next function (church, school, women's group, conference) please contact me.
Here's my story:
The story I’m going to share
will be hard to read, but like so many stories in The Bible, it’s through my
suffering God grew me closer to Him.
So here it goes....
When I was fifteen-years-old I was kidnapped, beaten, raped, and then tossed
out on the side of the road. The last thing my attacker said to me was,
"If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you."
The moment he let me go, I ran to the nearest house and told them to call
911.
A woman answered the door. She called the police, and shortly after that, I
was taken to the police station. They put me in a shoebox of a room and
interrogated me like a criminal. After hours of repeating the same, horrible
story, I was taken to the hospital.
As if my body hadn’t been violated enough in one day, I was then
prodded like a lab rat. The nurse treated me like I was contagious,
like if she got too close, or looked too hard, she might catch my sorrow. She
looked at me but didn’t see me.
By the time I got home, there was nothing left of me. My spirit was
shattered.
Although I hadn’t been living like one, I was a Christian. Like any
broken spirited Christian, I prayed. I laid the shattered pieces of my soul
before God and cried out to Him. I didn’t know why He let this happen. I
believed there was a reason and I knew I was supposed to trust that. I knew it
was supposed to be enough, but it wasn't. I asked God to show me why He allowed
that to happen to me. I needed to know why.
The next two days were complete torture.
I was lost inside my head. I didn’t know how to get back. It was like I was sealed up in a time capsule. The world still spun. The sun rose and set.
People went on with life around me as if nothing happened. But I was frozen in this shell of a person, locked in my grief, forever
trapped in a car with a monster, unable to escape my memories.
On the third day, my detective came to see me. He showed me six
pictures—faces of men. He asked me if any of them was the man who attacked me.
Praise God, my rapist was one of the pictures. They had him in custody, but what next?
The detective assured me that man would remain behind bars until the trial.
I was told a state appointed lawyer would contact me soon, and then he left.
And you know, there was some relief, knowing my rapist was behind bars, but
it wasn’t what I hoped I would feel. Knowing he was locked away helped with the
fear, but it didn’t touch all the other emotions. His arrest didn’t fix me. My
wounds were too deep.
I met with my lawyer within a few weeks. We went through the details of my
attack so she could prepare a case against my rapist.
She told me I was his third victim. She didn’t say much about
it, because she was still sorting through the details and evidence of each
case. She just told me he raped two women just a few weeks before me. She said
she’d be back in touch when she needed me, and that was that.
Once again, I was left with this mess of feelings. I did my best to
process my emotions, but it didn’t work. Anyone within a ten foot radius of me was subject to my wrath, which meant
they were likely to get punched, kicked, or cussed out at any given moment. I
was a field of landmines. Press any one of my buttons and I would explode.
I got in fights at school. I got in neighborhood fights. I just needed to
hit something, all the time.
My mom, like any mother should, took my butt to church. I hadn't been since my rape and the last thing I wanted was to be around more people.
It was a Wednesday night which meant youth group.
After it was over, my youth pastor asked to speak to me alone. I really
didn’t want to talk to him, but out of all the adults in
my life, he was the only one I actually liked. I always respected him.
It was immediately obvious he’d been told about my situation, so I wasn’t surprised when
he asked me how I was dealing with the aftermath.
Since I respected him, I didn't try to lie. I told him I was a complete mess. I hated everyone around me for being happy
when I was so miserable. I didn’t even know how to have a basic conversation
with the people in my life because none of them understood what I was going
through. I hated all of my friends for being so shallow. And I felt like God just didn’t care. God gave me a load that was just too heavy for me to carry. I knew somewhere in
The Bible it said He would never give us more than we could take. But I
felt like that was a lie because this was more
than I could take.
My youth pastor sat and listened quietly. When I was done unloading he told me the smartest thing
I’ve ever heard a person say. He said, “I wish I knew what to say to you.
But I don’t. All I can tell you is, the answers you need in your life are in
this book.” And he put his hand on his Bible.
Now you can imagine there was some eye rolling on my part. Like most
teenagers, I thought, what on earth would some ancient book have to do with my situation?
I’m guessing he could tell I was hesitant because he asked me for a favor.
He asked me to read just one book of The
Bible. He said not to worry about the rest of The Bible just yet. All he wanted
me to do was read the book of JOB, then he wanted to discuss it with me next
week.
So fine, whatever. I had no idea what that book was about, but I agreed to
read it just to get him off my back.
Now, for those of you who know what the book of JOB is about, you’re
probably putting two and two together, but for those who might not know, I’ll
break it down for you.
One day Satan goes to Heaven.
JOB 1:7 And the Lord said unto Satan, Whence comest thou? Then
Satan answered the Lord and said, from going to and fro on the earth, and from
walking up and down it.
Basically, he bragged about all
the wickedness he did on earth.
JOB 1:8 And the Lord said unto Satan, Hast thou considered my
servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and upright
man, one that feareth God and escheweth evil?
But Satan tells God, of course
Job is faithful. You’ve given him a perfect life.
JOB 2:6 And the Lord said unto Satan, Behold, he is in thine hands;
but save his life.
Job’s crops, all his masses of livestock, and even his children all die in a
domino effect of tragedies, one after the other. Satan even covered Job in
boils. Job’s wife told him to just curse God and die already.
JOB 2:10 But he said unto her, Thou speakest as
one of the foolish women speaketh. What? Shall we receive good at the hand of
God, and shall we not receive evil? In all this did not Job sin with his lips.
He longed for the past, and even
prayed for death. He was confused and broken, and he wanted God to take him
away from this world and all his suffering. But he never turned his back on
God. And he refused to curse God. Job continued to love and praise God even in
his grief. And at the end, God blessed Job twice as much as Job’s
previous days.
I related to Job’s deep
suffering, but I didn’t relate to his faith. He handled his pain with grace and
honor; I hadn’t. It was like someone punched me in the gut. It was clear to me
I needed to have faith like Job, but I just didn’t know how. It didn’t
make sense to me why God allowed suffering like that.
I met with my youth pastor the
following Wednesday and we talked about Job. One of my questions was, “Why
would God allow that to happen to Job just to prove Satan wrong? Didn’t God
love Job more than Satan?”
My youth pastor said, “God is
omniscient. God is not affected by time. He knows everything, beginning and
end.” He paused to think. “What if, in those moments of Job’s suffering, God
was thinking of you?
What if God knew one day you would need to read Job’s story? Job knew there was
a purpose in it all. He knew he was a part of a bigger picture and he trusted
God. What if you are a part of that same picture?”
I left that evening with my brain on fire. It was like trying to solve
calculus. I couldn’t fully grasp what he said, but I couldn’t stop thinking
about it. The God of Job was the same God watching me right then. God knew way back then
what would happen to me thousands of years later???
Every time doubt crept in—Why would God care
about me? I’m nobody? I’d hear Jason’s voice in my head, “But What if?”
What if?
I wanted to know more.
My Christian life was one-sided up until that point. I prayed when something was on my mind. God
knew all about me and my problems, but I didn’t know Him. For the first time, I
wanted to know Him—I mean really know Him in a one on one basis. I wanted to
trust Him the way Job did.
I dove into The Bible. It became the food my soul had been starving for. I
began to need the word of God in my life the way I needed oxygen. It was the
only thing in this world that made sense to me.
It’s funny because before that, the world made sense and The Bible was this
ancient, foreign thing that wasn’t relatable to my life. But after my rape the
world became so confusing. My friends complained over clothes and boys. Those things were the furthest from my mind. The outside world was chaos. The
Bible was the only thing that steadied me. It became my solid ground. It was my rock, but more than that, it was my
shield. It was my safe house.
I needed to sit at Jesus’ feet daily. My soul longed for Him. I didn’t care what went on around me,
I just needed to dwell with Him and listen.
I no longer cared if He fixed my problems. I
just needed Him to fix me.
2 Timothy 2:15 Study to shew
thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not be ashamed, rightly
dividing the word of truth.
2 TIMOTHY 2:21 If a man therefore
purge himself from these, he shall be a vessel unto honour, sanctified, and
meet for the master’s use and prepared unto every good work.
Without even realizing it, I began to heal. I trusted God because I needed
to, because the alternative for me was death. I simply could not do any of it,
alone, anymore.
And let me tell you, there is something so beautiful about being perfectly broken
and rebuilt by God.
I met with my lawyer again. She filled me in on more of the details of my
case. She told me she was very confident—because I reported it right away and
went to the hospital, my case looked pretty solid. And she was counting on it,
because she didn’t have as strong of a case for the other two victims.
He raped the three of us within weeks of each other. With each crime he grew
more violent and more daring.
The first rape was a date rape. The second rape, he lured a woman out of a
night club. Both of the women waited days to report it because they were so
traumatized. By the time they did report it, they had no physical evidence. By
the time he got to me, he’d escalated to kidnapping.
Since my case was the strongest, she wanted me to go to court first. She
needed me to take the stand and tell a jury what he did to me. She needed me to
fight for all three of us because she wasn’t sure if she would get justice for
the other two women.
I left her office that day with my mind blown again. It was like God Himself
came down from Heaven and smacked me upside my head. I finally understood.
I was a part of a bigger picture. I was so wrapped up in myself, my grief, my pain. I
never thought those other women might need my help. It
was as if God whispered in my ear, “You asked me to show you why, and now you
see; It’s because IT’S
NOT ABOUT YOU!”
Please understand, I could never compare what I went through to what Jesus
Christ went through, but as a Christian whose goal is to be like Christ, and as
a person who is filled with the Holy Spirit, in that moment, I
understood what it meant to take up the cross—I understood what it meant to
suffer for someone else.
I took the stand and testified against my rapist a year after his crimes.
It was terrifying, but I knew somehow, someway, no matter what the verdict
was, I would make it. I would be okay. I had no idea what God had in store. All
I knew was I trusted Him.
God chose me to fight that particular battle and so I walked into that
courtroom, armed with The Word of God in my heart and the Holy Spirit
empowering me.
The man who kidnapped and raped me was found guilty on every charge
and was sentenced by a jury to SIXTY-SIX years in prison.
It just so happens there are EXACTLY 66 books
in the Bible. I don’t believe that’s a coincidence. God does everything on
purpose.
I wasn’t a victim forgotten by God. I was a warrior chosen by
God.
EPHESIANS 6:13-17
Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to
withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.
14 Stand
therefore, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the
breastplate of righteousness;
15 And your
feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace;
16 Above
all, taking the shield of faith, where-with ye shall be able to quench all the
fiery darts of the wicked.
17 And
take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of
God.
We’ve all been chosen
to fight battles. God hand selects each
and every one of us for a purpose.
All of us suffer and will suffer. The question is: Are you a victim or a
warrior? Are you prepared to battle? Have you put on the armour of God?
Or are you still trying to fight on your own?
When you come to the place where you realize YOUR LIFE isn’t about YOU, then
your life has purpose.
It’s all about Him. All of it. Even your suffering. He’s trying to grow you,
teach you, and rebuild you for a bigger purpose. He hasn’t forgotten you and He
hasn’t abandoned you. He’s training you for battle. But you’ve got to suit up
if you’re gonna make it in this life.
You don’t suffer just because—you
suffer FOR
the cause.
When you realize all these things, you suffer with purpose.
I’m not saying it won’t still hurt. Things will happen that will break your
heart. It’s okay to feel those things. It doesn’t make you weak—it makes you
human. Go there, scream, yell, cry. Allow yourself to be broken. Cry out to God
and lay your shattered spirit at His feet, then allow Him to
rebuild you in His
image. Don’t get lost in your suffering. God gave you a road map to show
you the way, but you’ve got to open The Bible and read it.
I still ask God questions, but it’s not the same questions.
I’ve stopped asking "why me, God?" when things don’t go my way. I’ve learned
through everything that God ALWAYS has a reason and I truly trust Him.
Now I ask him, “What is it You want to teach me in this?” I don’t ever want
to miss ‘the writing on the wall’. So I turn to the word of God and let Him
speak to me.
PSALM 138:2-3 I WILL WORSHIP TOWARD THY Holy Temple, and praise
thy name for thy lovingkindness and for thy truth: for thou hast magnified thy
word above all thy name.
3. In the
day when I cried thou answerest me, and strengthedst me with strength in my
soul.
PSALM 138:7
Though I walk in the midst of trouble, thou wilt revive me: thou shalt stretch
forth thy right hand against the wrath of mine enemies, and thy right hand
shall save me.
I am nothing special. I’ve made a million mistakes. It is only by the grace
of God I’m here today, telling my story, and it was only by the power of God
that man was found guilty. I mean, sixty-six-years!
That wasn’t my
doing. That was God.
God had a purpose in it all, and He still has a purpose for it. I just had
to shut-up and listen. I had to trust in Him. I had to come to the place where
I knew my suffering had meaning and it was for a bigger purpose.
I AM NOT A VICTIM IN LIFE. I AM A WARRIOR FOR CHRIST.
UPDATE: My memoir's been published since writing this post. You can find it on amazon at:
PERFECTLY BROKEN: A Memoir of Rape and Redemption
~~Amber Mauldin