5 Lessons I Learned from Childhood Trauma
“It’s no use going back to yesterday. I was a different person then.”- “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” Lewis Carroll
This quote hangs on a wall in my house. For all of us who have been saved by the grace of Jesus, this is a truth we understand. We are new creations in Him. We have new identities and are reconciled to the Father by His love.
Yet we all bear the marks of past wounds and sins. As His hands and feet bore the scars of His wounds, I cling to the truth of this lyric in “Country Psalm” by Brandon Lake: “I’ve got breath in this body and hope in these scars.”
As a child, I was raised by a parent who lashed out daily—physically and verbally—from what I now understand was her own well of private pain. Of course, as a kid, I was oblivious to what she might be going through; I just thought I was the problem. She used belts, switches, and the back of her hand. Her out-of-control anger and threats were mixed with confusing declarations of love. I never knew what would trigger an outburst of screaming, tears, or being hit.
By the age of six, I had migraines and nausea. Almost all my childhood memories are overlaid with intense fear. This side of heaven, I will probably never know what happened in her childhood, as she never revealed it.
There are a few pivotal moments in my journey where a light bulb of clarity came on. It was like being in a dark room and, one by one, a new beam would shine, bringing understanding and showing a path forward. As the Apostle Paul admonishes us to do, I hope sharing these will be of comfort and help to someone else:
1. I Learned to Connect the Dots
1. I Learned to Connect the Dots
As a child, I equated abuse with love. As an adult, I did the same. The result was clinical depression, non-existent boundaries, and the grief of divorce. I chose spouses who would abandon me, blame shift, shame me, call me crazy, cheat, and lie— but to me, that felt normal.
Growing up, I would be slapped across the face, screamed at, and then told I was the reason for my parents’ horrible life. I rationalized that being destroyed little by little was part of the Christian walk of “taking up your cross.”
In adult relationships, I continued the patterns of co-dependency—trying to keep peace, excusing, dodging being hurt, crawling into a closet to silently weep, making excuses, saying to myself I would stay one more day and hope things would improve.
But I finally came to the end of myself—emotionally depleted and physically broken down.
Our bodies will speak to us. Stress will find its way to the surface. Our instincts should not be ignored. The Holy Spirit is our caution sign, our turn-around warning, the gentle and clear nudge in the moment when we are in danger.
I had pre-cancerous surgeries twice during the worst breakdowns in my marriage. Once, during a routine physical, the dots began to connect. Looking over my blood test results, the doctor noted I had extremely low cortisol levels. Cortisol is the primary hormone that manages stress in the body, released by the adrenal glands to mobilize energy and increase alertness during crises.
The doctor said, “This is the type of result I usually see in children who have been physically abused.” I immediately started crying. It made sense, and another light bulb came on for me.
Near the end of my second marriage, I woke every morning with a burning pain in my neck. Throughout the day, the pain gradually moved into my shoulders and down my spine. By the end of the day, I could barely walk.
Convinced there was something seriously wrong, I went to my doctor. “Do I have some kind of tumor or cancer?” I asked, and he calmly, quietly replied, “This is what you call a nervous breakdown. Your nerves are literally breaking apart.”
During a session with a wonderful counselor, I told her I remembered running away at least twice around the age of five. I packed a little suitcase and made it a few houses down the road in the dark, where I’d sit in the doorway of another house, hiding until my mom came to find me.
“You know,” I explained, “like all kids running away when they are little.”
She looked at me and said, “Bonnie, most children would never run away at that age. You were running for your life.”
2. I Learned the Safety of Boundaries
2. I Learned the Safety of Boundaries
Almost all my friends have at some point recommended I read a book on boundaries. To this day, this is still a lesson I’m learning. As a child, I was taught it was wrong to want something, to push back, or to question.
But as an adult, I began to see I had little to no ability to fight for myself. I had never been given permission to have an opinion.
When I was little, I was punished for asking a question and told that questioning an adult was wrong. As an adult, when asked, “What do you want?” I had no response. This question could be as simple as “what do you want for dinner?” or “what would you like in this relationship?”
It’s an ongoing struggle to stand up for myself and to draw a line in the sand. One of the great lessons I learned came from a bout of severe clinical depression where I was faced with the limits of my own endurance. Losses eventually catch up, causing our minds and bodies to hit a wall.
Clarity is healing, and saying no to being abused and mistreated brings peace and safety.
Photo credit: ©GettyImages/Xavier Lorenzo
3. I Learned to Stop the Cycle
3. I Learned to Stop the Cycle
Each of us experiences varying degrees of what came before us. Sin infects every family in some way. Sometimes I wonder if, in God’s mercy, He allows a hard but necessary reset in certain families.
Could it be that each of us is given a chance to do something better when we assume the roles of spouses, parents, and grandparents? One thing I am eternally grateful for is that I did not carry on another generational cycle of abuse. I never wanted to hurt my children, and I never wanted them to carry the weight of my adult needs.
It took a lot of misery covered by the mercy of God for the chains of generational abuse to break in my life. I am convinced Jesus died on that wooden cross so I could fall farther away from the dysfunction of humanity’s tree. My grown children have plenty of reasons to forgive me, but it will not be because I passed on to them another cycle of mania. It stopped on my watch, and I will walk on in gratitude.
4. I Learned to Find Treasures in the Dark
4. I Learned to Find Treasures in the Dark
God offers good gifts to all of us, but sometimes in our despair, we don’t recognize them. We are the apple of His eye, even when we feel like the pit of a prune. From my earliest memories, music was the lifeline He threw to me.
I will always be convinced that music was my first primal connection to God. On sleepless nights, in the middle of trembling and fear, God opened a world of glorious harmony and melody to me. It was as if He poured into my heart sounds that would heal the deepest parts of my soul. At church and home, I was taught to live in terror of God. Yet He drew me first and foremost to Himself through the tenderness of music. And through this miracle, He drew me out of hopelessness and into His love.
I have a visceral connection to God through the arts. I live in continual gratitude for being able to spend my life singing and speaking my faith, working with world-class musicians, and being personally healed through the gift of music.
5. I Learned Forgiveness Equals Freedom
5. I Learned Forgiveness Equals Freedom
The most vital and long-lasting lesson I have learned is also the hardest—forgiveness. This is especially tough when you are forgiving a primary parental figure in your life who hurt you as an innocent, defenseless child.
In looking at the cross, I see what it cost Jesus to die for all abuse and for all human sin. In light of His great sacrifice, how can I withhold forgiveness from anyone? What I have learned is to lay my pain and hurt at His feet. I cannot and should not carry that soul-crushing weight.
I have also learned how to forgive myself by reframing past mistakes as important lessons. I have learned to be kind to who I was in every season of life. I forgive myself for not figuring it all out in one day or even in one decade. I have found that Time is a patient teacher.
I know I am not alone. People of all ages from all walks of life are walking around believing they are broken beyond repair. That is a blatant lie. Jesus meets us in our brokenness and shows us the way to healing.
On the other side of these hard-fought lessons, God brings peace. And it’s the kind of peace that truly passes all understanding.
Related:
7 Things to Remember When You’re Struggling to Forgive
5 Things Christians Need to Know about Trauma
5 Daily Prayers for Physical and Emotional Healing
5 Empowering Reasons Christians Should Embrace Therapy
Originally published March 20, 2026.
