A guest post from D. T. Powell
Rebecca’s journey in Rapha is an incredibly personal one for me, because I understand where she’s coming from. I know what it’s like to pull back, to withhold trust, to shut off emotion in order to protect yourself because of church hurt.
I grew up in a church that became increasingly hostile toward my family. There were many wonderful people there—some of whom I’m still friends with. But the leadership was dead set on getting rid of us. After seventeen years, we were finally in a position to leave, so we did. But even moving to a different state didn’t heal the wounds left by our former church. What was worse, we wound up in a similar situation in not one, but two more churches over the next ten or so years. No matter what we did or where we went, we weren’t welcome.
This went on until a year after my husband and I got married. During that time, my family was encouraged to leave the church we were at. But also during that time, God pointed my family somewhere else through friends who had been encouraged to leave the church too.
When my parents told my husband and I about the new church they’d started attending, I was instantly wary and in no place to hope that this congregation could be different. We visited for a while then started coming regularly, but because I had never seen a properly functioning church, I was incredibly reticent to officially join and remained withdrawn—out of self-preservation.
Then I got a new position at work and found out the pastor of this new church drove a delivery truck that made weekly stops at my store.
Over the next few years, that pastor and I were essentially co-workers, but I had authority over what he did. I could look him in the eye and tell him “no” without fear of repercussion. I got to draw boundaries—a privilege I had never had with a pastor before. I got to see who this man was and how he responded when circumstances didn’t go his way. I got to see him on both good and bad days, when he was tired, sick, and just plain ready to retire. And I got to offer encouragement when he needed it.
Those years healed me. Those glimpses of an unselfish heart, of a person who truly cared about me and what I needed instead of how popular he was or how much power he had. Pride and position meant nothing to him, and just as Rebecca discovers in Rapha, I found I had a friend I could trust, and he became my fellow laborer in Christ and the first man I could honestly call “my pastor.”
Jehovah Rapha. The Lord who heals. That is what God did for me, and it’s what I celebrate throughout the pages of Rapha.
About D. T.
D. T. Powell, author of the critically acclaimed, award-winning novel With Mercy’s Eyes, has delved into difficult subjects through fiction for over a decade. Her work in both fanfiction and original fiction showcases how God’s persistent light shines even through the darkest of moments. Her original short fiction has appeared in Writer’s Digest and various short story collections from small presses. Also, her many top-quality book reviews publish quarterly in Clean Fiction Magazine. She enjoys reading, playing pickleball, and the occasional video game.
