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  • Writer's picturesadie.speaks

Christmas Came to My Heart

Updated: Dec 16, 2020

Mr. Magoo was a married man but he still wanted vows from another, from me.

As a young teenager, after years of grooming, Mr. Magoo asked me to keep secrets and promises of confidentiality to protect his reputation, his job and his marriage. An oft-repeated line by abusers was spoken to me in no uncertain terms: ‘If you tell, you will ruin me.’

It’s as if he was rehearsing, ‘Do you take this secret to be your own? To have and to hold from this day forward? For better or worse? For rich or for poor— til death do you part?’

To which I duly responded, ‘I do.

It was clear that this act alone, this 'sacred vow', separated me from my peers, my family, my closest friends, and yes, even my God. Much of my energy became devoted to hiding, to minimizing, to pretending and to perpetuating the coverup. It isolated me. It made me feel like two people — the one inside, the one out. It fueled a profound loneliness that I can still experience when misunderstood or quietly bearing the heavy burden of another.

I renewed my vows often. On the eve of counseling for all things (Un)incredible Hulk, I reaffirmed my vows to him and promised to not speak about him in counseling. I sent him invitations to special occasions, continued annual Christmas card exchanges, wore the jewelry he had gifted me, and pretty much bragged of our ‘friendship’ on many occasions.

Today, my adolescent vows sadden me.

They embarrass me.

They cause me a degree a guilt every time I break them.

They give me pause when I seek to pray and tell God my deepest longings and struggles.

Mr. Magoo had asked for my hand in his crime and I gladly gave it.

By nature, I keep my promises. I follow the rules. Yet, there came a time when unspoken adolescent vows needed broken. My heart and mind had severed enough under this weight— I needed to divorce my adult self from the soul ties that this secret wrapped around my life. My voice, calculated and clear, rose to speak.

My first act of rebellion was burning much of the memorabilia I had saved from him, selling the ring he gave me and I stopped sending him Christmas cards. I began to tell the deeper details of my story to my best friend and my husband. Next, I spoke of him in counseling. I wrote poems about all the senses he touched and the musty smell he evoked. Eventually, I properly reported him and ended up facing him in a court-appointed arbitration. This was by far the loneliest part of the journey. The only person who walked that second mile with me was my husband.

I reached a new low in the story as many survivors do when they go public with their story: the story of false promises and broken vows. Gone were the days of secrets and things done in the dark, but I hadn’t yet experienced a justice. I hadn’t yet relaxed into the day when loneliness would dissipate from others whispering ‘me too’. Or simply, I hadn’t realized others believing the truth I’d shoved into my stolen ‘I do’. Very few greet a survivor with open arms--and the greetings I encountered more than questioned my character, my motives; my memory. Instead, I was publicly accused of being a pathetic, lying, manipulating, evil, unforgiving and unchristian person. That's a lonely place. Though truth truly sets one free, the adage is equally true: Freedom is never free. I paid for this freedom and it was no small price.

Loneliness has often plagued me. It became a raging virus.

Self-isolation is my friend. It became my only safe place.

Feeling alone has been the watermark of my existence. It became a stain on my relationships.


See Article explaining this common phenomena among sexual abuse victims. Click here.


I questioned if there would ever be a day that I would not feel these sorrows. I blame both Mr. Magoo and (Un)incredible Hulk for the lingering empty feelings of aloneness. I blame them for the long night of the soul. As these emotions overwhelmed me in this season, Christmas came to my heart in the clearest way.

Will there ever be a day

When I’m not lonely

Push away the gray

And tell me truly

There’s so much left to say

I wish you’d call me

Will there ever be a day?

Will there ever be a day

When I wake up whole

Complete and not half-hearted

Sustenance for my soul

Will there ever be a day

When my ache turns from sadness

Tell me, will there ever be?

Will there be Peace on Earth,

Good will to men—

Even in the loneliness of a stable pen

Will there be a Messiah’s Grand Entrance

Different than before

Will He break the chains of darkness

And loose the captive’s door?

Will there ever be a day

When I trust the Savior

God with us, the great Emanuel

Who chases loneliness with His Divine Presence?

Will there ever be a day?

Will there ever be a day?

Will there, ever?

The Virgin birth, the Holy Child

God with us, God with us, God with us

Born on this day, celebrate

Coming again, celebrate

Seeking for us when lost, celebrate

Saving us when lonely, be glad

Be not afraid- yes, Christmas Day has come!

A Refuge to our souls

Rest for the weary

A Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God

The Prince of Peace: Jesus, Emanuel

The Holy Spirit, never alone

The Everlasting Father, who gave us His Son

Yes, the Day has come.

Whole-heartedly I trust the One who captures my heart

And chases the loneliness away with His Divine Presence.

4 December 2009

The simple truth of Christmas, God with Us, comes every year to me as a sweet surprise. It is the most beloved promise I know.

I was never alone.

The manger Babe never asked me to keep a secret, instead He beckons me to

Go Tell It On the Mountain.

The manger Babe listens to my prayer every time I sing

Be Near me Lord Jesus

I ask Thee to stay

Close by me forever

And love me, I pray

The manger Babe

The God with us

He is with you in this hour, in this season and in your past and present suffering.

You are not alone.

Christmas came to my heart.

May He come to yours, too.

Celebrate, be glad, rejoice--

"Behold, the Virgin will conceive and give birth to a Son, and they shall name Him Emanuel," which translated means, "God with us". Matthew 1:23

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