Speaking From the Wound, Not the Scar
And Praying it Impacts You
There’s a piece of advice that’s often given to therapists, coaches, and those working in the mental health field or even in ministry. It goes something like this: teach from what you’ve already healed from. Speak from the scar, not the wound. Experts say, this builds credibility.
While I understand the intent behind that, today, I’m not going to follow that rule.
I’m taking a deep breath as I write, because what I’m about to share is something I would honestly rather keep private. And yet, I know there are moments when speaking from the middle of the story—rather than the end—is the only way to truly make an impact.
And I need this to make an impact.
When the System Fails
Recently, I found myself sitting in a courtroom… for the second time… applying for yet another restraining order.
If you’ve been reading these newsletters for a while, or found me through social media, you may already know that I am a survivor of domestic violence and abuse. I’ve been divorced for years and separated even longer. And yet, here I am—still having to define and defend my boundaries in a legal system that often feels like it was not designed with victims in mind.
As I sat there, I couldn’t ignore what was happening around me.
Victims and perpetrators sitting in the same waiting room. Sometimes for an hour. Sometimes for several. No separation. No advocate coming out to say, “Let’s get you somewhere you feel safe.”
Just people sitting with their anxiety, their clanking knees, their churning stomachs, their trauma—staring across the room at the very person they’re seeking protection from.
And then they’re called into the courtroom, where the burden falls on the victim to prove why they need protection… often in front of a judge who has heard case after case all day long, who has little patience—or compassion—and who may or may not have any real training in what trauma actually looks like.
It’s exhausting and dehumanizing. Honestly, it’s a broken system. And that sadly wasn’t my first experience with the system failing.
The first time I had to file for a restraining order, I reached out to a local family justice center. Even though this is the work I do every single day, I didn’t want to walk through that moment alone. I asked for a court advocate—the same thing I advise the women I work with to do.
For a month leading up to the hearing, my legal aid representative and I planned, and I was assured she would be there. But the day came… and no one showed up. No advocate. No call. No explanation. Just silence.
Thankfully, I had other support with me. But I was deeply disappointed that a community organization designed to help… didn’t. Another place where the system that is supposed to protect the vulnerable, failed.
When the Story Hits Too Close to Home
Then this past week, after leaving court exhausted from the experience, yet again, I came home and saw a news story that stopped me in my tracks.
Shamar Elkins, a veteran, shot his wife Shaneiqua Pugh, and their seven children, all between the ages of 3 and 11. Elkins also shot Shaneiqua’s sister and nephew. Shaneiqua was in the process of filing for divorce. All eight children died at the scene.
A woman trying to find safety lost all of her children. Eight children—gone. Their mother and their aunt barely alive. And suddenly, our stories collided. The system had failed Shaneiqua and her children.
When Grief Turns to Righteous Anger
Shaneiqua’s story had a devastating outcome, while mine has not, for which I’m grateful, I couldn’t help but feel a deep connection with her story and the things that likely led up to that day.
I felt anger—a deep, steady anger. I believe God feels anger over their deaths too. He is not indifferent to this suffering.
And all of this brings me to the reason I’m writing today— even though it’s uncomfortable: Our churches can do something. But far too often… we don’t.
I’m not suggesting that churches can replace the courts. But I am directly saying that our churches can come alongside victims in meaningful, life-giving ways. In ways that create another system that helps support and even protect the vulnerable.
I used to believe that the church’s silence on this topic was because we just weren’t aware. That maybe we just didn’t understand the scope of the problem. I don’t think I can believe that anymore. There have been too many stories, too many headlines, too many lives lost. For any church to not be aware there is a real problem, would suggest that the people inside that church had never once turned on the news.
So now I find myself asking harder questions.
Harder Questions
Is it that some leaders avoid this conversation because it hits too close to home? Because I have, unfortunately, seen situations where those in leadership were the very ones causing harm behind closed doors, in their marriages, with their own children. If the leadership of a church doesn’t address abuse in marriage or create a culture that can openly talk discuss this difficult topic, it silences entire churches. And with 1 in 3 women being abused and 1 in 7 men, silence just isn’t acceptable.
Or is it that we’ve decided—maybe unintentionally—that other programs feel more important than this life-saving work? All while women like Shaneiqua Pugh are sitting in our pews, in our small groups, and serving on our ministry teams.
Another reason I have heard whispered in board meetings and leadership discussions for not entering into the world of victims, is fear.
I know of some who’ve expressed worry that if they begin addressing domestic violence, it will bring safety issues into their spaces. But here’s the reality we have to face: The safety issues are already here.
According to numerous studies, domestic violence has been connected to a significant percentage of the mass shootings we have seen in recent years. Either the shooter was raised in an abusive home or was committing abuse in an intimate relationship before openly committing a public act of violence.
Domestic violence and abuse often do not stay contained behind closed doors.
Ignoring this issue doesn’t make the church safer, it just makes us unprepared. And staying silent doesn’t protect anyone, in fact, it leaves us all vulnerable.
Another Very Hard Truth
Here’s another very real, hard truth—when victims don’t find safety and understanding in our churches… they leave. I know this because I did and I’ve supported many other women since, who’ve had to do the same.
When I finally came forward about the abuse in my marriage, after years of serving as missionaries in the church, our local church did nothing. In fact, it was worse than nothing. I knew firsthand, that there were leaders—men in positions of authority—who were also abusing their own wives.
After everything I had been through, nothing in me could stay in that environment. My mind and body viscerally reacted when I was met with, “Well there’s really nothing we can do.” It felt re-traumatizing. It was too much—so I left. And I have never once regretted that decision.
Here’s the hard truth—if you are a pastor, a leader, or someone who cares deeply about the future of the Church: My story is not rare and neither is Shaneiqua’s.
There are thousands—literally thousands—of women and children quietly walking out of our churches and there are also thousands, literally thousands of women who will never have the chance to even do that, before their lives are taken. And I believe one of the reasons is because we are not addressing their trauma.
I recently heard a study showing that women are leaving the church at an astounding rate. And if you wonder why…I believe what we’ve discussed here is part of the answer.
If we are not willing to step into a discussion on how we as the Church can wisely, prayerfully, and with proper training help survivors of domestic violence and abuse—then we, the Church, are not just standing outside, looking in at this problem, we are a part of the problem.
The Church cannot afford to be unprepared. Shield and Restore is a training created to help churches respond to domestic violence and abuse in ways that protect and support survivors. Click Here to share this with your church.
Darah Ashlie
Darah Ashlie is an author, speaker, and coach with a heart to share the wisdom God has given her through years of walking alongside women in life’s messiest places. She writes with compassion and clarity from her own healing journey and comes alongside women ready to reclaim their voice, rebuild their lives, and live in the freedom God intended. Connect with her at https://www.youtube.com/@darahashlie or on social media @DarahAshlie.