“When you begin looking at your reality in the face, you can begin to face your reality.” cj
Childhood trauma is a vicious predator. My experience with this hunter of peace has been long and arduous. Pretending I’m okay didn’t and doesn’t work, running and attempting to hide from it doesn’t work either. Talking and thinking about it creates inner turmoil and elevated anxiety. I did seek professional counseling in my early twenties and I’m thankful for doing so.
I spent so many years building a life of carefully chosen anonymity—only letting people know me at a very high level. If asked to tell someone 5 things about myself nobody knows, my immediate internal thought process was, “you couldn’t handle it. If you don’t already know it, I’m not telling it.”
I’ve laid my pain at the feet of Jesus countless times only to find myself reaching back for it as if it was some kind of warped security blanket. It’s mine. In all its brokenness and ugliness, it’s my reality. Don’t misunderstand me, there has been tremendous healing over the decades. The Lord has provided so many people and circumstances to show me He is there and He has heard me and knows my inner struggle. But that little girl from so long ago still shows up sometimes unexpectedly and uninvited. But she’s there…beckoning me to look back again, peel back another layer and let it heal. Goodness that’s hard. Especially when I think maybe I’ve moved beyond needing to bring something else into the light—there it is; the tears and fears of that 12-year-old broken little girl find me yet again and show me there’s more—more to heal from—more freedom to be experienced and ultimately shared. I believe one paramount fact I’ve been taught through this journey is the Lord doesn’t bring hope and healing so I can keep it to myself. Not an easy mandate for someone who diligently sought her anonymity for so many years but a necessary act of obedience. I’m not required to share all the shocking and sometimes disgusting details. I’m required to share the victories are from Christ and Christ alone.
O Lord, you have examined me, and you know me.
You alone know when I sit down and when I get up.
You read my thoughts from far away.
You watch me when I travel and when I rest.
You are familiar with all my ways.
Even before there is a single word on my tongue,
you know all about it, Lord.
You are all around me—in front of me and in back of me.
You lay your hand on me.
Such knowledge is beyond my grasp.
It is so high I cannot reach it.
Where can I go to get away from your Spirit?
Where can I run to get away from you?
If I go up to heaven, you are there.
If I make my bed in hell, you are there.
If I climb upward on the rays of the morning sun
or land on the most distant shore of the sea where the sun sets,
even there your hand would guide me
and your right hand would hold on to me.
If I say, “Let the darkness hide me
and let the light around me turn into night,”
even the darkness is not too dark for you.
Night is as bright as day.
Darkness and light are the same to you.
You alone created my inner being.
You knitted me together inside my mother.
I will give thanks to you
because I have been so amazingly and miraculously made.
Your works are miraculous, and my soul is fully aware of this.
My bones were not hidden from you
when I was being made in secret,
when I was being skillfully woven in an underground workshop.
Your eyes saw me when I was still an unborn child.
Every day of my life was recorded in your book
before one of them had taken place.
How precious are your thoughts concerning me, O God!
How vast in number they are!
If I try to count them,
there would be more of them than there are grains of sand.
When I wake up, I am still with you.
Psalm 139:1-18 (GW)
C. Deni Johnson
©2026
Right Hand Ministries 