The Faithfulness of God
By Pangshua Riley
I should be dead, but by the love of God, I have been made fully alive.
Thankfully, I can reflect over my life and see the presence of God. I see how alive He was in the dark places of my past, where I never saw Him before: in my depression, promiscuity, and self-destruction. I wrestled for many years believing that God could really love me and that He had good plans for my life. After all, my life didn’t seem to look anything like any Christians I knew.
I felt alone in my battles, which influenced my belief that God was fully good and that He was, what I heard many Christians call, faithful. But through years of walking with God, I have experienced the opposite of that. I am not alone. God is faithful, and you are not alone. We are here in this life to walk together.
This, here, is the story of my journey in finding God and His uncompromising faithfulness.
Rock Bottom
I moved to Boone, NC as an 18-year-old, full of ambition and much eagerness to discover this newfound freedom. Beginning my first year at Appalachian State, I knew it was important to find a church but I was overwhelmed by all the different churches. I visited a few, in which felt nothing like home, so I gave up and started a prayer circle in my dorm that semester (which lasted for a few weeks). Little did I know, a girl I met through this prayer circle would come to help pull me out of my desolation.
Three months into my new life at App, I found myself in an unusual situation. What was intended to be a date with a friend actually turned out to be one of the worst nights of my life. Caught in a web, I was being held captive in this man’s bedroom. That evening, he raped me and threw me into the streets, forcing me to walk home by myself. God, where are you? How did this happen? What did I do to deserve this? Those were my initial thoughts. As the week went on, I began to take responsibility for this event that occurred. It was my fault. I did this to myself. I am worthless. I deserve this.
For the following two years, I spent my life in a burning pit. Many nights were spent intoxicated and chasing after anything that could bring me fulfillment. In reality, hopelessness is all I felt. The more I felt hopelessness and pain, the more I tried to drown myself with alcohol, sex, and getting high. In those difficult years, I made my first attempt to commit suicide, but by God’s grace, my friend who I met during that prayer circle came rushing into my room at the right moment to stop me. Fighting through the confusion of my life’s purpose, I fell in love with a guy who I began to build my world around. After breaking up with me one night, I locked myself inside his bathroom, embarrassed, rejected and broken. My heart began to shatter into a million particles but for the first time in a long time, I began crying out to God. This was my rock bottom.
“But for the first time in a long time, I began to crying out to God.”
Claiming God’s Truth
The next morning, I got in my car and began cruising through the streets of Boone in search of God. I knew he could be found in a church, so my mission was to get to the first one I could find. I remember it being such a long drive. I debated with myself and tried to convince myself that I could wait until the following week. But I found myself pulling into a parking spot, following the small crowd walking toward the church doors. To much relief from my fears, I left church that Sunday feeling hopeful again. My life was going to get better. Hope was growing in my heart again.
A few short months after, I wrestled with depression again. Like always, God was present in the midst of my pain, even if I didn’t see it then, I see it now. But what I remember through this specific season was sneaking in and out of services because I didn’t want anyone to see me. Then one summer night, my church was having service on the University’s campus at IG Greer. I always snuck in after the first song so that I could seat myself in the last row. Once again, I would pretend to be invisible and sneak into the last row. Reflecting back, I see that I was never invisible before my loving God. He saw me as much as I tried to stay hidden.
As my pastor began to tell the story of Hosea that evening, my heart began to release its hold of the pain and frustrations of life. I heard of the unceasing love Hosea had for Gomer. It was the perfect illustration of my own life. I was on a constant run from the One who paid the price for me. I was Gomer. I was the harlot. I was in captivity to my sins, enslaved to the demons of my past, and convinced of the enemy’s lies. I look back and see the numerable times I should have died: from a car accident, an abusive relationship, sexual abuse, and a suicide attempt.
Like Gomer, my penalty should have been to be stoned to death or to be auctioned off. However, a man by the name of Jesus found me. He lovingly took off the dressing of his own body to clothe my nakedness. He paid the price for my freedom and snatched me out of my death sentence. In a moment, the truth of the Gospel began to become truth in my heart. John 3:16 speaks volumes to me (“for God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life”). He loves me. I am worthy. This truth finally made sense to me. I was now beginning to claim God’s truth for my life, as a daughter of God Almighty.
Rejected and Disowned
My life began to take a dramatic shift my senior year in college. It seemed like I was finally beginning to get on track. I had encouraging and Godly relationships to help me see my true identity in Christ. I was joyful again. All the pieces were falling into their rightful places. With graduation around the corner, I was almost certain I would be moving back to the New England area to be closer to my family. After some praying and heavy decision making, I decided to stay in Boone after graduating, which came with a hard sacrifice.
Graduation day was finally here and my family had come into town. We did all the normal festivities: attended the ceremony, took pictures, ate dinner and laughed with good company. But the night was bound to come to a close, and I would have one of the hardest conversations with my parents: am I staying or going back with them. In my culture, it is near disrespectful and rebellious for an unmarried woman (regardless of her age) to live anywhere other than with her parents. In choosing to stay, my parents were confused and upset. In their hurt, they gave me an ultimatum to choose God or my family. I chose God and for months, my relationship with my family ceased. I didn’t talk to my parents for a long time. I was no longer called a daughter. Rejected. Disowned. Despite travailing through this season, the Lord began to show me his faithfulness. I would discover God as my safe refuge, my Father, and my rock. That same year, after being renounced as a daughter, my grandmother passed away and became a bridge between me and my family. Though our relationships didn’t quite return to its previous state, it was better than not communicating with them at all. It wouldn’t be until my 27-year-old brother unexpectedly passed away two years ago that God would mend and restore my relationship with my parents. Yet again, God proved Himself faithful.
When I look at the way God restores and heals our hearts, He doesn’t do it halfway. He desires to see us walk in wholeness. This is exactly what God was taking me through. He was removing all the bandages and masks I had placed over the most painful areas in my life. I was surrendering myself to be exposed before such a Holy God and relying on Him to help me cleanse the wounds I pretended weren’t there.
Healing and Forgiveness
During all of this, my rapist returned into my life. After not seeing him in Boone for more than two years, we would be 100 feet from each other. One Sunday afternoon, I was on a lunch date with some girlfriends at Applebee’s, and while in mid-sentence sharing some story, I glanced over at the hostess station and see my rapist standing there. It couldn’t be! I lost all of my thoughts in that moment and tears began to roll down my face. The girls at the table were confused and didn’t know what was happening. They kept asking me if I was okay but I couldn’t form any words. He was standing at the front of the restaurant, staring at me. We made eye contact for a few seconds which seemed like an eternity. The only thing I managed to mutter in tears was, “It’s him. He’s the one that raped me (four years ago).” Gasps of shock and alarm were shared and really, that’s all I can remember. I honestly still can’t recall how I managed to leave Applebee’s that day and get home.
I was also in the midst of my first professional career at Grandfather Home for Children, an agency that serves children and youth who have experienced indescribable sexual/physical/mental abuse and neglect. It was the perfect setup. The Lord used the children’s experiences to speak to me about my own need for healing with sexual assault. I knew encountering my rapist again was purposeful. I told my boss about this small encounter with my rapist and feeling fearful. He and everyone I worked with that I shared this with were supportive and prayerful. Talk about a community! But while the support seemed astounding, I was wrestling at home with one nightmare after another. I often woke up in the middle of the night thinking I was raped again or that my rapist was standing outside, waiting for me. I eventually despised going out to public places because I didn’t know what or who to expect. Was my rapist still in town? Would he try to hurt me again? Would I see him again? Would he find me?
And what seemed like couldn’t happen, happened. He spotted me.
I was at the local Harris Teeter for a quick trip to pick up some flowers for a friend’s engagement party. My mind was preoccupied with planning the night’s event so I was feeling okay to run around town by myself. Standing in front of the floral counter, I sensed someone was standing directly behind me. Then I heard a male voice, “Hey, what’s up girl?”
If I had superhuman powers, I would have frozen the scene and ran away. But I don’t have superhuman powers, and had to face the moment. After rehearsing a million responses in my head, with power of the Holy Spirit, I calmly said “How dare you talk to me?” I paused and continued to tell him, “I forgive you.” He looked at me almost in dumbfoundedness, as if he didn’t know what happened. I walked away, purchased my flowers, and left the store. That was the last time I saw him.
“God brought me back to this traumatic place to reveal His sovereignty, His faithfulness, and His boundless love”
I Am Not Alone
In the days that followed, a lady at my church felt the need to share with me, John 16:33, “In me you have perfect peace. In the world you have tribulation, trials, distress, and frustration, but take courage for I have overcome the world. I have deprived it of power to harm you and have conquered it for you.” And she wasn’t the last person to share a scripture, prayer, or encouraging word. God used the aide and prayers of such friends, mentors, and strangers to remind me, I wasn’t alone.
A few months passed and I felt like I was gaining victory in overcoming the trembling fear I had of going out in public or being attacked again. I continued to focus on going to church, reading the Bible, staying in worship, talking to trusted friends, and journaling. I was feeling good and hopeful to move on. But a big turning point in all this was when I was taken back to the night of that rape in my dream. In an out-of-body-like-experience dream, I returned to a replay of this event. I remember crying over myself in my dream and thinking: you don’t deserve this, Pangshua. You’re going to be okay. It’s going to be over soon…then the unimaginable happened.
Jesus was there. He was there.
Although I couldn’t see His face, I saw a man wearing a white robe, holding my right hand by that bedside. Weeping. This man was weeping. I love you, my child, and I am writing a story of redemption for you. God brought me back to this traumatic place to reveal His sovereignty, His faithfulness, and His boundless love. He stood with me in my pain. I still don’t have the answers to the whys, but I do know this truth, God is matchless in every way. He is matchless in the way He loves us. He is matchless in the way He stands in our pain. Matchless in the way He holds our suffering. Matchless in being the giver of hope.
Depression is no longer a part of my struggle. Coping through sex, drunkenness, people-pleasing, and getting high are no longer a part of my struggle. I have felt the hand of God, tasted of His saving grace, and because of it, I could never deny the reality of His love.
There is a song by Bethel Music called “Everything to You” that I love so much because it reminds me of John 3:16. The lyrics from this song, “You wrap yourself around every detail of my life. You place everything into motion and all I have to do is stand in the palm of your hand because I mean everything to You. You mean everything to me.”
My past would say I deserve death and suffering, but God says I deserve goodness, love, and an abundant life. I had a hard time believing I was ever going to find a Godly husband, but because of God’s grace and deep love, He has brought the most loving, patient, and caring man to pursue me. The pursuit was unlike any other relationship I had ever had. It was pure, rich, and glorious. During our first Valentine’s together, he wrote me a letter that convinced me he’s a keeper. “I could write many reasons why I love you but what’s important is that you are reminded by how much God loves you.” He proceeded to list an entire page filled with scriptures showing God’s love and shared about God being the Source of love and how we can love because He first loved us. For the next couple of years we dated, God used Josh as an instrumental part to healing my trust issue with men and the deep-seated wounds I was carrying. Through our challenges and battles, I would find myself marrying the greatest friend I could ever have, for all my life.
God’s love is faithful because He is the source of love. I have seen it through my husband, pastor, church, friends, co-workers and even strangers. “He makes the path of life known to me, and in His presence I find fullness of joy.” I know I have found that fullness of joy in His presence and all the days of my life, He will not abandon me. And He will not abandon you.
This article was originally written for the Winter 2014 Edition of The Journey Magazine