Page 29 of My Vows Are Sealed

God, I hoped I found a love like they had one day. I hoped I would find a man who would show me love and tenderness, but also respect me as an equal. And I really hoped that one day, a man would look at me the same way Peter was looking at Marie right now.

Maybe I’d have a chance for that after I was out of my father’s house. Somewhere he couldn’t find me, so he couldn’t sabotage it.

“The first thing I wanted to talk a little about is what ‘the rod’ is actually referring to in the Books of Psalms and Proverbs,” Peter continued. “All throughout those Books, there’s a common theme of a metaphor referring to the Lord as our Shepherd, and that’s where the concept of the rod comes in. Shepherds use rods to herd their sheep. Whenever a sheep strays from the flock, the shepherd uses their rod to guide it back. But here’s the thing: it’s not harsh. They don’t hit the sheep with their rod. They give that sheep a gentle nudge to guide it back to the right path, and it’s done of out of love, not anger or a need to control.

“So, when the Bible talks about using the rod to discipline your children, it’s not telling parents to hit their kids. It’s not telling us to be harsh with you. In fact, the Lord also commands parents not to abuse their children, numerous times. Most notably, Ephesians 6:4 says, ‘Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.’ We’re supposed to guide you on the right path, but we’re not supposed to beat you into submission.”

Wait, what? This was all news to me. I mean, not the part about the Bible saying that parents weren’t supposed to provoke their kids to anger. I knew that. But the shepherd analogy? How the rod was used as a tool to guide the sheep, not to beat them? I had literallyneverheard that before in the entire fourteen years I’d been on this planet. Why wouldn’t my father have taught about that? Why wouldn’t he have included it in his sermon this morning, for that matter? That seemed like a pretty major piece of information.

“This is where I come in,” Marie added, taking Peter’s hand and squeezing it. “I want to talk to you a little bit about the difference between discipline and abuse, because I think a lot of times, this gets muddied up, and it leaves kids hurting and confused. I think the most important difference is that abuse comes from a place of anger. It comes from someone wanting to make a show of displaying their strength over someone who’s less powerful. Discipline comes from a place of love. It comes from a desire to show you what you’ve done wrong and help you do better next time. Also, after you’ve been disciplined for doing something wrong, you should still respect your parents, not be afraid of them. Anything they do shouldnever,ever cause you any sort of harm, physically, mentally, or emotionally. You should still know that you’re a good person who just made a mistake, you should still realize your worth, you should know that you’re loved, and you shouldneverhave any physical injuries. You should never be beaten as a punishment, you should never be denied food or water, and you should never be physically restrained.”

My eyes stung and my nose started to flare as I used every ounce of willpower I possessed to keep myself from bursting into tears. Because everything Marie was saying was something I’d spent years wishing for. I’d spent years wishing that my dad would let up on me just a little. That he’d just gently explain to me what I’d done wrong and show me how to do better next time instead of yelling at me and hitting me with his belt or his Bible. That he’d give me a chance to prove I could learn my lessons instead of just telling me what a disrespectful and rebellious child I was and being convinced that I’d never do any better.

Was what my father had been saying for all these years a complete lie? Was he abusing me and then trying to take bits and pieces and incomplete verses from the Bible to justify what he was doing? Why hadn’t I seen that until now? Why had I gone so long thinking this was normal?

And why had he basically put me in a position where no one would believe me, even if I did find the courage to speak up?

* * *

My heart sank to the floor when youth group ended, because my hour-long reprieve from the grueling torture that was my forced vow of silence was over. As parents started to show up and collect their kids, I wandered out into the lobby.

“Darla!” I heard Nathan squeal excitedly.

The next thing I knew, I had a pair of tiny arms around my legs, and a few tears leaked out of my eyes. What was I supposed to do? I knew if my dad saw me interacting with Nathan in any way, I’d be in more trouble, but I didn’t have the heart to ignore him.

“Hey, little man,” I murmured, bending down to give him a quick hug. “How’d you know I needed a hug today?”

“Brendan told me,” he giggled.

I looked up at his older brother, who was looking at me like…like I was the only one in this whole room who mattered. I didn’t know how else to describe it.

“Did he?” I chuckled. “Well, he was right.”

“Look what I made in Sunday school,” he said, proudly showing off a cross made out of popsicle sticks andcoveredin blue glitter. There was about to be glittereverywherein the Carters’ house and car now.

“That’s so pretty. You did such a good job!” I told him. “Did Brendan tell you I hung your picture up in my locker at school?”

“You did?”

Before I could respond, Brendan’s face fell, and Ifeltmy father’s presence behind me before I heard his loud, booming voice.

“Darla! My office!” he growled.

Nathan’s eyes got as big as saucers, and I seriously wanted to scream at my father for scaring this sweet little boy who just wanted a hug from his friend.

“I’ll see you soon, Nate,” I said quietly, giving his shoulder what I hoped was a reassuring squeeze.

Without another word, I turned and headed toward the church offices, walking down the hall to the very last one and closing the door behind me. As I sat down on the couch, waiting for my father to decide to join me, a sense of dread came over me, and Marie’s words from earlier echoed in my head.

After you’ve been disciplined for doing something wrong, you should still respect your parents, not be afraid of them.

A few tears leaked out of my eyes as I realized that I couldn’t even remember a time when Ihadn’tbeen afraid of my father. For as long as I could remember, I’d been afraid of his wrath. Honestly, what kept me from doing so many things was the fear of what would happen when I did.

I knew that keeping my friendship with Kate and Ashton from him was wrong. I knew I should have just told him about it. If I had, maybe he wouldn’t have been so harsh with me.

I also knew it was wrong to allow myself to entertain impure thoughts about Brendan and allow him to touch me or hold me, but I couldn’t help it. He was my friend, and getting a hug from him was comfort, not romance. But according to my father, allowing that behavior to continue would start me on the path of unrighteousness. It would start me on a slippery slope that would inevitably lead me to sin.

But, then again, I wasn’t entirely sure how falling in love was a sin in the first place. I mean, if it was so wrong, why was it okay for him and my mom to be in love? And I shouldn’t have been afraid of what my dad would do when he found out I’d fallen in love.

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