SHAME IS NOT MY STORY

I’ve thought a lot about what I wanted to share for Tell It Tuesday, and honestly, I almost picked something else because this one is hard.

Like, really hard.

And before I even get into it, I want to say this because I don’t want this to sound like THIS is my whole testimony or the one big thing I’ve ever had to repent for.

Goodness no.

There is so, so much in my life that I have gotten wrong.

Things I’ve done.

Things I’ve said.

People I’ve hurt.

Times I’ve been selfish.

Times I’ve reacted wrong.

Things God has convicted me over that I’ve had to go back and apologize for.

Things I’m still learning from.

I’m not telling this story because this is the only mess Jesus ever had to pull me out of.

Not even close.

This is just one piece of my story.

And it’s one that taught me A LOT about what being strong and courageous in the Lord actually looks like when you’re not the innocent person in the story.

Several years ago, there was a season of my life where I was unfaithful in my marriage, and it wasn’t just one time.

And gosh, that’s still hard to type.

Adultery is something our marriage has had to walk through from both sides.

I’ve known what it feels like to be betrayed, and I’ve known what it feels like to be the one doing the betraying.

We’ve both had to learn what it means to forgive things that hurt deeply, and we’ve both needed forgiveness.

But his part of that story belongs to him, and until he is ready to share, that’s where it will stay.

I can only tell mine.

And my part is that for a long time, anytime what I had done came up, I could tell you every reason WHY I did it.

I was hurting.

I felt empty.

I felt like there were things missing.

I felt unseen sometimes.

I could give you a whole list that I’m not going to list here because those things involve other people’s stories too.

But I always had a BUT.

I know I did this, BUT you don’t understand what I was going through.

I know I hurt people, BUT I was hurting too.

I know I shouldn’t have done it BUT…

Always a but.

And y’all, my pain WAS real.

That’s something I’ve had to learn too.

Repentance didn’t require me to pretend I wasn’t hurt.

Because I was.

But eventually, Jesus had to show me that two things could be true at the same time.

I could have been deeply hurt AND still have been wrong for how I handled my hurt.

That was hard for me.

Because if I’m being completely real about who I was back then, I wasn’t living for the Lord.

I knew God.

I believed in God, but I wasn’t chasing Jesus.

When life hurt, I ran to the world.

Your girl loved to party.

I loved going out. I loved drinking. I loved being with my friends. I loved anything that made life feel fun for a little while.

And now when I look back at that girl, I can see that a lot of what I called "having fun" was really me numbing stuff.

I didn’t want to sit in pain.

I didn’t want to feel lonely.

I didn’t want to deal with what was going on inside of me.

So, I found ways not to.

And when attention came from places it shouldn’t have, it felt good.

That’s just the truth.

There were places in me that felt empty and instead of taking those places to Jesus, I let people fill them who were never supposed to be there.

And it made an even bigger mess.

And there are two situations with my children from those years cheating that still get me when I think about them.

There was one time when my children heard things about me, and they came to me. And I looked them straight in their faces and told them it wasn’t true.

It was.

I lied to my babies.

And at the time, I honestly thought I was protecting them.

I thought, "They’re children. They don’t need to know grown people’s business."

And I STILL believe children do not belong in the middle of adult problems.

But I know something now that I didn’t know then.

I could have protected them without lying to them because eventually they found out.

And then, it wasn’t only what Mom had done.

It was…

"Mom looked me in my face and told me it wasn’t true."

That broke trust.

And as they’ve gotten older I’ve had to hear how some of that affected them.

That is HARD y’all.

Because everything in your mama heart wants to say, " BUT BABY I WAS TRYING TO PROTECT YOU."

And there was that dang “but” again.

I had to learn to just listen.

"I’m sorry.

I shouldn’t have lied to you.

You didn’t deserve that."

Period.

And then another time, I went almost completely the opposite direction.

My marriage was in a really bad place, and we were separated.

I truly believed we were going to divorce.

In my head, it was done.

There was another person in the picture, and I thought that person was going to be part of my life moving forward.

But at the same time, deep down, I still wanted my marriage.

I still wanted my family.

I still wanted somehow for things to work.

So, I was back and forth and back and forth, and honestly, just a whole confused mess.

And during that time I introduced my children to this person.

Ehhhhhhhh.

That’s hard for me to admit too.

Because in my mind at the time, I thought I was preparing them for what life was going to look like.

I thought their dad and I were going to divorce, and this person was going to be around.

So, one time, I thought protecting my children meant hiding something from them.

Another time, I thought preparing them meant involving them.

And looking back now…

both hurt them.

I didn’t know what in the world I was doing.

I was making decisions out of hurt and emotion and what I thought was going to happen next.

I had already decided how the story was going to end.

Marriage seemed to be over.

This is what life looks like now.

Except…

I didn’t know what God was going to do.

And somewhere, in all of that, He checked me.

"Like girl…what are you DOING?"

Because underneath all of it, I was trying to feel something.

If somebody could just make me feel loved enough.

Wanted enough.

Seen enough.

Whatever enough.

Maybe, I wouldn’t hurt so bad.

And it took me way too long to understand that I was asking people to do something they were never created to do.

Nobody could fill that.

Not another person.

Not my friends.

Not going out.

Not drinking.

Not partying.

Not attention.

And honestly, not even my husband.

There were places in me that belonged to Jesus.

And I had been trying to put everything BUT Jesus in those places and then wondering why I was still empty.

My goodness.

That’s hard to look back on now, but it’s true.

And when I finally started really chasing the Lord, I started seeing things differently.

Not because I suddenly became perfect.

Lord, have mercy.

This has taken YEARS, and He’s still working on me.

But eventually, my prayers started changing.

Instead of always looking around at what everybody else needed to change, it started becoming, "Okay, Lord. What about ME? What needs to change in me?"

And goodness, He had a list.

I had to learn how to sit in uncomfortable feelings without immediately finding something to numb them.

I had to learn how to say I’m sorry without explaining for the next 45 minutes why I did what I did.

I had to learn how to let somebody tell me I hurt them without immediately reminding them how they hurt me.

I had to learn that somebody else’s wrong didn’t make mine right.

And I had to learn that repentance and shame were not the same thing.

Because the shame almost ate me alive.

Once something you’ve done comes into the light, your mind will absolutely wear you OUT.

Everybody knows.

Everybody is looking at you.

You’re a liar.

You’re an adulterer.

You’re a bad wife.

You’re a bad mom.

You’re a hypocrite.

God can’t use you now.

Just hide.

And for a long time, I thought maybe feeling horrible about myself forever was part of being sorry.

Like, if I ever stopped beating myself up then maybe, that meant I wasn’t really repentant.

But Jesus wasn’t asking me to pretend what I did was okay.

It wasn’t.

He was asking me to repent, and then, FOLLOW HIM.

And goodness, sometimes I think it took more courage for me to believe I was allowed to get back up than it did to admit I had fallen.

That’s why I’m telling this.

Not because adultery is my whole testimony.

It isn’t.

I could probably sit here and tell y’all a hundred things Jesus has had to forgive me for and a hundred more things He’s still working out of me.

This is just one chapter where I learned something I don’t ever want to forget.

When shame tells you to hide from Jesus, that is the exact time you need to run straight to Him.

Maybe your thing isn’t adultery.

Maybe it looks nothing like mine.

Maybe something you did got exposed.

Maybe nobody knows yet, and you’re terrified they will.

Maybe you hurt somebody.

Maybe you lied.

Maybe you went back to something you swore you’d never do again.

Maybe you are sitting there with no excuse this time.

And you feel absolutely sick with yourself.

Please, don’t run from Jesus.

Run TO Him.

He already knows anyway.

He knew mine.

The whole thing.

Not just the version I told people.

Not just the parts that made me look a little better.

He knew the truth.

He knew my hurt AND my sin.

He knew who I hurt.

He knew every excuse.

He knew what I was trying to numb.

He knew all of it.

And when I finally stopped trying to explain myself to Him…

He was still there.

He corrected me.

Oh, yes He did.

He convicted me.

There were things I had to own.

There were apologies I had to make.

There were consequences.

There were things I couldn’t undo, but He didn’t throw me away.

That’s Jesus.

He loved me enough to tell me the truth about myself and loved me enough not to leave me there.

And I can’t go backward now.

I can’t give my children a different version of those years.

I can’t undo the things I wish I had done differently.

I can’t erase every hurt I’ve caused in my life.

Not just in this story either.

There are other things I wish I could change too, but I can repent.

I can own it.

I can apologize.

I can listen.

I can live differently today.

And I can let the people closest to me see that when I get it wrong, I know where to go.

Jesus.

That’s what I want my kids to know more than anything.

Not that their mama always got it right.

Good grief, they KNOW better than that.

I want them to know, "Baby, when you mess up, don’t hide. Don’t numb it. Don’t lie about it. Don’t spend ten years trying to make everybody understand why you did it.

Get to the foot of the cross.

Tell Jesus the truth.

Let Him correct you.

Repent.

And then, get back up and FOLLOW HIM. Your mama learned that one the hard way."

And maybe, that’s what being strong and courageous in the Lord has looked like for me more than anything.

Not being fearless or always being right.

Not having some spotless testimony.

I don’t have one.

Sometimes being strong and courageous has meant being willing to say, "I was wrong. I did that. I’m sorry. Lord, forgive me. Now, show me what to do next."

And then, doing the next thing.

One day.

Then another.

Then another.

And another.

And several years later you look back and think…

My goodness - look what God has done.

I’m not sharing this because I want anybody looking at me.

Please don’t.

Look at Jesus.

Because THAT is the whole point.

I messed up.

This time.

Other times.

In other ways.

And I’m sure before I leave this earth I’ll have plenty more things I have to take before the Lord and say, “Jesus… I got that one wrong too.”

But Jesus has been faithful.

That’s my testimony.

Not, my goodness - how perfectly I repented.

His grace.

Not how strong I’ve always been.

His strength.

Not how courageous Tosha is.

How safe Jesus has proven Himself to be when I finally have enough courage to bring Him the truth.

So, if shame has you hiding right now…

come back.

Even if you did it.

Even if everybody knows.

Even if you don’t have a good excuse.

Even if you’ve already messed up more than once.

Come back.

You aren’t coming back because you’re good enough.

You’re coming back because Jesus is.

And goodness - I am so thankful that’s true.

Because I have needed that kind of Savior my whole life.

FRANKIE AND TOSHA TURNER WITH NAYLEN, MCKALIAN, AND CALEB