All posts by Cindy

Cindy is recognized for her insightful, personalized writing style. Coupled with her experience as an abuse survivor and a divorcee, we are confident that her simple yet profound insights will provide a new perspective that contributes to positive change and encourage the reader along his or her journey toward restoration

False Repentance

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When push comes to shove, and an abuse victim has finally had her fill, the confrontation with her abuser will almost certainly set in motion a new set of somewhat predictable responses. It is a crucial moment for her, because denial has finally given way to determination, and though confusion typically reigns, clarity is gaining a foothold.

The victim has reached a point where she is willing and able to openly contend that the relationship has reached its breaking point. She may confront her abuser in the midst of a conflict, try to choose the perfect opportunity to approach him, or pack her bags and leave a note on the nightstand. No matter how the issue is broached, the typical abuser is not usually receptive to being exposed, dismissed or ignored. The victim needs to brace herself; the game is almost certainly not over yet. He still has a few tricks up his sleeve.

In such a confrontation an abuser will almost always immediately question either his victim’s sanity or her resolve. This may come in the form of feigned doubt, shock or horror. The victim might hear something like this:

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Praying For The Right Thing

Does God always answer our prayers? It is a question that begs an answer. How can it be that the abused who seeks respite from his or her condition through prayer for years receives no relief?

Is it that God is not listening, does not care, or wishes for the abused to remain in their terrible condition? Or maybe none of those is correct. Maybe He is answering our prayers, but not the way we expect.

In the midst of ongoing heartache, for many years the consistent, intentional prayer of my heart was that God would open the eyes of my abusive spouse and restore our relationship to wholeness. Now the Word says that if I “have the faith of a mustard seed,” the mountain will be moved. So I prayed for more faith. And because Paul wrote that, “love never fails,” I prayed that God would make me more loving. I also believed that my prayer would eventually win the day because, “the fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much.” And in His miraculous name, I anticipated the ultimate, favorable answer to the singular cry of my heart: “Lord, save our marriage.”

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Press Release – “God is My Witness” making a case for biblical divorce

gimw1-150x150FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:

Cindy Burrell Announces the Release of Her New Book on Biblical Divorce

Author and abuse survivor Cindy Burrell is pleased to announce the release of her newest book, “God Is My Witness: Making a Case for Biblical Divorce.”

“After years of prayerful study, I am eager to share what I believe reflects God’s heart as it relates to a painful and seemingly settled subject,” Cindy shared.

A unique biblical exposé on Christian divorce, “God Is My Witness” takes the reader far beyond the traditional church script, tearing down the walls of legalism to lead the reader back to the passionate, personal heart of God.

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I Know How the Blind Man Felt

What began as a life-changing encounter between a blind man and the Messiah should have culminated in celebration. Instead, this man whose life had been miraculously changed for the better finds himself facing cruel accusations and ultimately rejection.

My story has some similarities. But in order to understand my story, we must first take a look at his.

There were many blind men to whom Jesus restored sight, but the story of the man who has held my interest is the focus of the entire ninth chapter of the Gospel of John. We are not even given his name, yet this man, whose life began in obscurity, is now and forever etched in the chronicles of God. And on this particular day the man’s life would change in ways he could never have comprehended.

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The Bench

The Bench

“Please,” the man said, “if you wouldn’t mind,”

And at first I believed he was thoughtful and kind

He pondered a moment, then pointed to where

A rustic old bench sat under the stair

 

“There are others whose dress is better selected

Whose hair and accoutrements are more keenly collected

But you may observe and keep watch from that place

A distance apart from the revelers’ gaze”

 

Although his words pierced as a sword through my soul

I timidly moved to my place in the hole

Knowing I never would join in the fray

And the bench became my companion that day

 

My ragged appearance could not match the rest

Yet my heart beat the same inside of my chest

As I stroked the rough planks of the bench where I waited

My dream of acceptance would not this day be sated

 

Countless long hours the bench was my friend

Neither shame nor my loneliness came to an end

For my eyes held no beauty, my gait showed no grace

The bench’s cruel judgment was etched on my face

 

‘Til the moment a man came, looked into my eyes

Smiled, took my hand in His, to my surprise

He led me so tenderly, whispered, “There’s more,”

And I feared He might ask me to sit on the floor

 

I could not still my heart from its penitent race

As He tenderly pulled back the hair from my face

“You are lovely,” He said. “It is so clear to Me,

You are patient and gentle and kind as could be.”

 

I gasped in His presence, it was clear He had seen

Every tear I had wept, every anguishing dream

And He smiled and He pointed to the front of the hall

Before all of the guests who had come to His ball

 

“You will never again sit away from the throng

On that horrid old bench where you do not belong

For you are My princess, honored and blessed

From now ‘til forever you’ll be properly dressed

 

“You have not been forgotten, you have not been alone

I have seen you seated back there from My throne

Receive all I have for You, My darling, My prize

Today I will relish the light in your eyes”

 

How tragic to see, if I only had known

The bench was a stop on my way to His throne

I’d have held my head high, been proud of my name

For the bench and my value were never the same.

 

 © 2012, Cindy Burrell, All Rights Reserved