It was a sunny South Florida Saturday, but inside a tiny Mediterranean-style cottage, I lay in darkness. The birds sang, but their melody was drowned out by the weight of my grief—so heavy it felt like a thousand-pound weight pressing me into the couch. I had lost count of the days since I last opened the blinds, showered, or eaten. My sister’s calls were silenced by reruns of TV shows I had watched a million times.
The dark cloud had returned, but this time, something felt different. I didn’t want to leave this place. It was strangely familiar, even comforting. The grief was so deep, it felt like home. I couldn’t name the thing that made me so sad, but I knew where it began—on a night of evil that marked my life for nearly 20 years.
In January 1992, during my freshman year of college, I left one party to get to another with someone I barely knew. I was young and felt invincible—everyone seemed trustworthy. But I never made it to that other party. Instead, I spent hours fighting off my attacker who eventually sexually assaulted me. In the decades that followed, I cycled in and out of therapy while building a career as a TV news reporter. Each time I felt better, I stopped therapy—until something triggered me again. Nightmares robbed me of sleep. Alcohol numbed the pain, and reckless choices only deepened my suffering. The darkness became a rabbit hole I couldn’t escape.
Clouds are made of water. Before a storm, water vapor creates clusters of raindrops that block out the light, causing clouds to turn gray. In life, unresolved trauma, dysfunctional behaviors, and depression are like those clusters of raindrops—shutting out all hope. But when we confront what Satan is betting will destroy us, the clouds begin to break, allowing God’s light to shine through.
I’m not a psychologist, just a woman who spent many years broken and running from Jesus. Raised in the church, I knew of Him but never truly pursued Him. The weight of guilt and shame took a devastating toll, leading to suicidal thoughts. On the outside, I seemed fine. But inside, I was drowning in pain.
I won’t sugarcoat my journey—healing took a very long time, and I spent hundreds of hours with Christian counselors. But my mental state was like an emotional yo-yo. The game changer? Jesus. When I surrendered my trauma to Him and embraced the spiritual disciplines, my loving Father stilled my storms to a whisper (Psalm 107:29, NIV).
I once doubted I could ever heal. But in desperation, I turned to Jesus. I had no expectations—just one last hope. And He became my best and lasting hope. Friend, He longs to be that for you too.
Healing doesn’t mean life is all sunshine and rainbows. I still struggle at times, but I remind myself that we live in a broken world. Every blog post, social message, or speaking engagement brings more healing. Inner healing is lifelong, and I believe full restoration comes in eternity. That means we keep seeing professionals, taking medication if needed, and believing in His good plans—even when the dark cloud feels more like a Category 5 hurricane. After all, friend, “The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble” (Psalm 9:9, NIV).
If you’re struggling today, don’t stay in the darkness alone. Healing starts with one step—bringing your pain to Jesus. Talk to Him, then find a trusted friend, pastor, or counselor to walk with you. You are not meant to carry this burden alone. Here’s what you can do right now:
- Get connected to a community of believers for accountability.
- Seek Jesus daily—pray, meditate, read His Word, and listen to worship music.
- Resist isolation—Satan attacks most when we’re alone, feeding us lies.
You are seen. You are loved. You are not alone. I’ve been where you are, and I promise—there is hope. Keep going, friend. God has good plans for you! If you put your trust in the God of the universe, then you, too, will one day declare, “I will not die; instead, I will live to tell what the Lord has done” (Psalm 118:17, NLT).
I’ve come a long way from that little cottage. Today, my storms are fewer. I’ve learned that staying healthy requires spiritual disciplines and a keen awareness of my own mental health—knowing when to get help is key. I still face storms now and then, but these days, life is mostly scattered sun showers. All glory to God!
Bio:
Rebecca Medina Stewart is a Communications and Marketing professional who lives in South Florida with her husband. She is an Emmy-nominated former TV News Journalist who fell in love with writing stories as a child. She is deeply involved in her local church’s life group and prayer ministries, and passionate about mentoring young adults. Rebecca began to write journals from the trauma of sexual assault. Her book, SEEN: Experiencing God’s Tenderness after Brokenness, published November 2024, is now available.
Connect with Rebecca:
rebeccamedinastewart.com
rebecca@faithfulbutterfly.com
Instagram: @rebeccamedinastewart
Facebook: @rebeccamedinastewart-author
