I remember sitting in a closet, trying to take my own life because I truly believed death was the only way out.

I couldn’t understand how my life in God, fully submitted and sold out, felt more painful than my life in the streets ever did. Back then, I was in and out of jail, but I had people who had my back. The streets embraced me. They wanted me. I would’ve died for them. But the church? The church left me feeling invisible, expendable, and spiritually dead. This isn’t an easy place to come out of, so y’all be gentle with people.

Nobody ever tells you that after salvation, the real fight begins.

Two years saved, fully delivered, full of zeal for the Lord. I loved God. I let His light shine through me. I only wanted Him, not platforms, not approval, just Him. I had no idea what I was walking into. There I was, married and ripped from my family and the only home I knew.

Six days after I gave birth to my son, that’s when the perversion slipped in.

I wish someone would’ve sat me down and said, “Baby, get healed first.” I wish someone told me that craving love and validation doesn’t go away with a wedding ring or a prayer cloth. I wish I knew that what’s between my legs would never heal, save, or keep a broken man from cheating. Maybe then, I wouldn’t have been in my closet, moments before church, begging for a way out of this pain. I was just two years saved. What the hell did I know?

I didn’t know I’d become everything I said I’d never be: a liar, a hypocrite, a silent sufferer. I was lost. Stockholm syndrome had taken root(a trauma response where the abused start bonding with their abuser), and many years of therapy, I still have triggers. I believed every lie he told. I followed every command. I was never his first choice, just his scapegoat. And the church people hated me. They loved him but despised me. They said, “Pastor’s wives are always so mean,” not knowing I was carrying a house full of burdens, up to 16 unemployed people living with us at one time. I was the only one working some seasons. Married 16 years, and only lived in peace with just my family for 2 of those years. I agreed to it all because I was told, “That’s how you show God.” I was groomed by a man who said…”God said marry me”. But what happens when that “God” is a man manipulating Scripture?

I was high-risk with every pregnancy, but still forced to stand in the middle of downtown Atlanta highways every day, selling water bottles and candy in the heat, while some of the teens helped from sunup to sundown. Told we were doing “fundraising” for the church and bringing the earnings of the day back to him. Forced to collect those same teenagers’ paychecks just to pay rent. Do you know the hatred they felt toward me? And I had no choice. ( A few years ago, I have since repented to each and every one, because I didn’t know I was in sin and an occult)

Being a pastor’s wife meant I had to keep smiling while being abused, overlooked, unwanted, and replaced, even by an “armor bearer.” Truth is, the armor bearer takes on the wifely duties, and there is no need or desire for her any longer.

I’ve sat in hospitals, birthing rooms, chemo treatments, prayed, paid bills, and walked people through hell, just to watch them heal and act like I never existed. You want to know why some pastor’s wives don’t smile? It’s because you never see what’s breaking them. This is not God’s Kingdom. I tried to end my life because the people I sat with in ministry and in my home were the ones killing me slowly.

But God.

God doesn’t make mistakes.

That’s why I share this. Because there’s a generation rising that needs the truth. They need to know that what’s been tolerated as “normal” in ministry isn’t godly. My fight is for my sons and daughter, so they never think what we endured is acceptable. That they grow up knowing a real, personal relationship with Jesus. That they find freedom outside of manipulation, legalism, and emotional control that is only within the Savior. It’s funny how my current life looks strange to my children because I have come out of agreement with the wickedness.

I believe in God.

But now, I know Him for myself, and I place them in the palm of His hands.

“God made my life complete when I placed all the pieces before Him.” Psalm 18:20 MSG

“Not everyone who calls out to me, ‘Lord! Lord!’ will enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Only those who actually do the will of my Father in heaven will enter.” Matthew 7:21 MSG

Let Us Pray…

For the woman reading this who has found herself in a dark place… remind her that she’s not alone. That even when her pain is wrapped in ministry, You are still her rescue. Heal the wives, the mothers, the leaders who have been abused behind closed doors. Set the captives free from spiritual bondage and manipulation. Restore identity. Restore peace. Restore purpose.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

Blog: strengthofawomanblog.com

YouTube: @iAmAdonaka

Email: [email protected]

You are not your past. You are God’s beloved. You will get through this.

Your story will set someone else free. Don’t stop telling it