After I was raped, I did not try to date again. I have had problems with men ever since then. It has been one continuous problem. I have been lied to, stolen from, cheated on, belittled, and even deceived in a way I never thought possible. I am at the point where I do not care to become involved again with anyone. I would just as soon stay single the rest of my life, rather than to be hurt any more by any man.

I cannot understand it really. My sisters both found them good husbands. They are handsome, very righteous, and caring, thoughtful men. I would like to know what their secrets are. And I’d like to know why I am doomed to spend an eternity alone.

It is hard to explain the emptiness that I feel, even though I have my daughter. I am grateful for her presence in my life. But my life is lacking something meaningful. Something that only a man and woman can share together. The comfort he can lend when your tired or anguished. The gentle touch of his lips when he kisses you. A whisper. A caress. A hug.

I have dreams and fantasies of what the perfect love might be like. But reality never measures up to what I expect. With every relationship I have had, it has turned out bitterly painful. Through the years I have developed a certain bitterness toward men because they have disappointed me in so many ways. Maybe it is because I have set, for myself, unrealistic and unobtainable expectations. Maybe that came as a result of the rape as a protective measure. That I cannot say for sure.

It took me two years before I would date again. Then I met Bruce through a friend of his.

I was twenty one when I met Ray, a friend of Bruce’s. He was around twenty-eight. I did not like him much. He was shorter than average men with blond hair and green eyes. I really don’t want to say anything bad about Ray because he eventually died of Leukemia sometime after Bruce and I split apart. His sister donated her bone marrow and the doctors operated in hopes that the procedure would be successful. But soon after the surgery, Ray lost the battle to live.

I do not know if Ray was a Christian as we never discussed such issues, so I cannot be certain if he is in Heaven or not. I know I should have taken the time to find out. But Christ was not a big part of my life then and I never thought to ask.

Any way, Ray was the typical air-head. He wasn’t very bright or intelligent. He rarely took anything serious. To him, life was one big joke. He was always trying to make you laugh and I suppose there isn’t anything wrong with that. But romantically speaking, you need more than laughter to hold a relationship together.

Needless to say, Ray followed me every where I went. I could not get rid of him. He would not take my hints and leave me alone. He was too dense to understand them, I suppose. But one afternoon I went to the tennis courts to play by myself. It was a routine thing for me at that time. It was the only hobby I had any interest in.

Somehow Ray found out where I was and showed up to watch me play. However, he was not alone. He had Bruce with him. After my game was over, I joined up with the two of them.

Bruce had jet black curls, deep, dark eyes, and he was quite handsome. He was nicely built, though a little on the thinner side. But it was his personality that attracted me to him immediately.

He was very shy, quite, and had a hard time looking me in the eyes. I enjoyed talking to him and getting to know him. I felt very comfortable with him, relaxed and safe. That was important to me.

We kept up a conversation for a long while and I knew Bruce was interested. There was chemistry between us, but he was shy about letting it be known. When he left, he gave me his phone number and I gladly accepted it.

I would call him when I would baby-sit for my best friend. We’d talk for hours at a time. He made me feel special and cherished. It took him four months to ask me out. I was thankful for that because I didn’t want to rush into anything after my past experience with Don.

Even when we went out together, Bruce was the perfect gentleman. He never tried to kiss me, or touch me, or to do anything offensive or inappropriate. He was, however, very romantic and liked to do spontaneous things together.

It took another four months for him to kiss me. But finally he did and that was okay with me. By then I was very much in love with him. At least, I perceived myself to be in love.

Today, I wonder what love really is. Does it exist? Or is it just a figment of one’s imagination? Personally, I view love as an illusion. It isn’t real. It is something that you allow yourself to believe is real. And eventually it will fall apart, grow old, and cause you endless heartache.

Getting back to Bruce, we became intimate shortly after that first kiss. I won’t give you the details, but we were quite happy together. After a year, we moved in together without the sanctity of marriage.

Bruce drank, but it was never really a problem. Not on a physical level any way. He was able to work and hold down a good job at a moving company. The hours were long and the work was hard, but he enjoyed what he did and took pride in it.

After we’d been together two years, we decided we wanted a family together. Within three months of trying we were pregnant.

It was a joyous time for both of us. I told my parents, then I told each one of my brothers and sisters. They accepted it without any problems.

I worked downtown at a financial company called KBK Financial Services. I rode the bus back and forth to work as I did not have a car back then.

Regardless, sometimes the bus would be full when I would get on in the afternoons. I usually waited until some of the people exited the bus and took the first available seat. When I got pregnant I weighed less than a hundred pounds.

When I was in my fourth month of pregnancy tragedy would strike, unbeknownst to me.

I was, like Bruce, very shy. I was unable to just open up and talk to anyone. I was afraid to look a person in the eyes. I was also very self-conscious and worried all the time what people thought of me.

One day, I got on the bus. It was crowded as usual. I knew it wasn’t safe for me to stand on the bus, but I was afraid to ask someone for their seat. I was afraid they would not think I was really pregnant. It bothered me to think someone might actually believe that I was lying.. It bothered me so much that it cost me the life of my unborn child.

Had I know what was in store for me that day, I would go back and change it all.

But I cant, and I live with the constant memory.

The bus was going along just fine in rush hour traffic. The bus driver had just pulled away from a curb after letting someone off at his stop. Then he’d taken off and was gaining speed, when suddenly he slammed on his breaks abruptly, causing me to lose my balance. I was flung forward down the isle. I panicked. I grabbed hold of the back of the seat to get my bearings.

When I did, I felt a strong pull in my lower abdomen and immediately started losing the baby.

I went to my mother’s that night and called the doctor immediately. I was having severe cramping and passing large blood clots. The doctor told me to lay flat on my back for the night and come see him first thing in the morning.

During a routine ultrasound, a fetal heartbeat could not be detected. Concerned, the doctor sent me to the hospital for another sonogram with upgraded equipment. He would meet me after the sonogram was completed and give me the results.

The way this doctor treated me, was incomprehensible. He treated me heartlessly. It even made my father cry and it was the only time I’d ever seen him cry over anything.

The technician had performed the ultrasound, but was unable to give me any information on the results. I was to wait for the doctor and he would go over everything with me

My mother, father, and I waited for hours to see the doctor. But he never came.

The technician was very sympathetic, said there was nothing he could do but send me home. So my dad drove me to the apartment I shared with Bruce. When we got there, there was a message from the doctor’s secretary stating the doctor was at the hospital looking for me, that I needed to return there as quickly as possible.

So we all piled back into the car. It was a somber time for all of us. I was heartbroken, thinking the worst. I couldn’t quit crying. I was hurting, and bleeding and I hated the whole world that night.

When we got to the hospital, the doctor was no where to be found. He was paged a number of times, but never responded. We were forced to wait yet again.

After another hour or two, a nurse came to get me, with a wheel chair. She escorted me into a small cubicle of a room. She picked up the receiver to a phone and handed it over to me.

On the other end was the doctor.

He proceeded to tell me that my baby was dead and that I would have to have a DNC.

I had never felt so forsaken in all my life. I thought to myself, this couldn’t be happening to me. But it was and it did.

I asked if the baby was a boy or a girl, but the doctor wouldn’t tell me. I suppose because of the state of my emotions, he was afraid to say anything more that might upset me. But, by then, the damage was done. I was scarred for life.

I called Bruce. He was at a friends house that night. It would mark the beginning of the end of our relationship. I will tell you more about that a little later on.

After the DNC was over, I went back to stay with my mother. I was so depressed and distraught, it was not healthy for me to be alone. My parents were supportive during this horrible ordeal.

For months I cried nonstop. I could not function. I had thoughts of suicide. I grew enraged, bitter, and angry. I was angry at God for taking my child away from me. I felt empty and isolated. I felt alone and so full of grief that I no longer knew what to do. I hated the doctor for treating me so badly. So many times I wondered what I did to deserve this.

It was a very bleak time in my life. One I didn’t think I would ever get over.

My depression lasted over a year. I saw a number of counselors during this time. They mainly wanted to prescribe me anti-depressants, which I refused to take. I needed help, not drugs. I needed to learn how to grieve, to accept the loss of my child. So that I could move on with the rest of my life. But my grief was holding me back, destroying my relationship with the man I loved.

So much had gone wrong. Everything fell apart. I could not see happiness any where in my future. I hated myself, my life, and everything in it.

The loss of my child had changed me. I lost friends over it. I was told by one, "It wasn’t meant to be." And I said bitterly, "How could God give me a baby, then take it away like that?" Their answer was simply this, "Maybe there was something wrong with it, and it never would have made it any way."

I was confused and torn apart inside. I felt at a loss. I would never hear my baby cry. I would never hold him in my arms, rock him to sleep, or tell him how much he was loved.

How does one learn to cope with such a loss? How does one go on with her life when there’s nothing left of it? When everything that was once important no longer exists?

I do not know how I survived the months and years that followed the loss of my child. I am thankful that I had my family, importantly my parents. If it had not been for them, I do not know where I would have ended up.

My parents have been such a blessing. They have always supported me in everything that has gone on in my life. They love me unconditionally and I thank God every day for their presence and continued support in my life.

If you have recently suffered a loss of a child, or a loved one, I know how you must be feeling. You must be feeling desperate, lonely, angry, depressed. You are not alone in your suffering. God is with you, willing to lift you past the pain, and flourish you with happiness once again. In time you will heal. You will never forget what you lost. The memory will always be with you. But the pain will eventually subside. It may take months, or years. But you will be restored once again.

But you will hopefully find strength in the Word of God and in prayer. If you have friends, and family, talk with them. Do not shut them out. Do not blame them, either, for what has happened. Understand, that it was God’s will, and he has a reason why it happened, though you may not understand it today, or at all.

I must face this in my own life. God had a reason to take the life of my child. But he had a reason to give me one in its place.

"...The Lord says, ‘Don’t be afraid! Don’t be paralyzed by this mighty army! For the battle is not yours, but God’s!...’"

2 Chronicles 20: 15

At one time or another in our lives we have all suffered in some way. It might have been through the death of a loved one, the loss of a job, a family dispute, or some other tragedy. The length of time it takes to recover from our suffering in each of these cases varies depending on the severity of each one. Some of us are stronger than others and can handle suffering in a quiet way without relying on others to get us through it. Others may need a lot of support and understanding. God calls us to suffer. There are many reasons for this. Maybe God is testing your faith. In Job 23:10, the Bible says, "God may be testing or refining me." Maybe he is disciplining you for some sin in your life. In Deuteronomy 8:5 we are told "God may be disciplining me." Maybe you have not devoted nearly enough time to Him and in neglecting Him, you have pulled yourself from His loving arms. Maybe through suffering, that was the only way God could reach you again. God has a purpose and reason for everything he does in our lives. He has a purpose for our suffering. We must remember what Romans 8:28 says: "And we know that all that happens to us is working for our good if we love God and are fitting into his plan." At the time, we may not understand why we are called upon to suffer. It may take days, months, or even years before his reasons are explained to us. During this time it is important to remain positive, focused, and in control. It is also important to keep up your faith. Don’t turn from God in anger because he has made you suffer. Know, in your heart, that the pain and tears are only temporary, that God will see you through your suffering and restore you back to health again. It is revealed in Psalm 71:20 "God will eventually restore me." The pain of suffering is sometimes unbearable for some of us. We do not know how to cope, or we respond in unfavorable ways. We may lash out in anger, or turn away from our friends and family. We grow despondent and bitter. We may give up on life all together. It is times like that we need to turn ourselves over to God and allow him to heal our broken souls. Turn to him in earnest prayer. Turn to Him in the Word of God. Allow his words to soothe you, comfort you, and to guide you through the turmoil. And remember to share your experiences with friends, family, neighbors, or anyone who will listen. Maybe this was God’s purpose, his intent all along. Through our suffering, we can grow in the Lord. We can teach others the ultimate power God has over us. In our weakest moments is when God is his most powerful. He carries us in the strength of his arms. God lends us comfort as Isaiah 49:15 shows us, "God comforts his people as a mother comforts her child." We are all God’s children. He loves everyone one of us. We may be disappointing to him from time to time, but he forgives us for our sins. We must find it in our hearts to forgive him for inflicting us with sorrow. Keep believing in Him. Be devoted to Him and give Him praises and glory when He has lifted you from the blackness and has given you joy and peace again.

Dear Lord:

I have a grieving heart. Where do I turn, but to you, in this time of need. I am barely holding on and I don’t know what to do. How can I begin to heal from this, Lord? Show me what I must do. I am at a loss. I don’t know how I should feel. But I know that you can lift me from this time of mourning and flourish me with tranquillity. I beg you, Lord, take from me this heartache. Take away my loneliness. Fill my heart instead, with happy times. Take away the burden of sorrow. Wipe away my tears. Cast away all that makes me sad and miserable. Show me Your love, Lord. Let me know that You are standing beside me, holding me up when I am close to falling to my knees in grief. I thank You for the Spirit of You that lives within me, that will strengthen me. I thank You that this is Your battle and I give it over to You.

Amen.