Christian author and educator Lucy D. Ola knows what it is like to wrestle with the tension between faith, marriage and abuse. Here, she shares how the belief that God wanted her to stay silent kept her in an abusive marriage – and how finding her voice helped her begin to rebuild her life.
I was raised to believe that marriage was holy and came from God. Divorce did not feel like simply ending a relationship; it felt like rejecting something God had created. I feared that God did not approve of divorce, and I believed the only acceptable reason for it was adultery. Abuse did not seem to fit the exception I had been taught. I worried that if I divorced, I would be judged, rejected or even treated as an outcast by other Christians. That fear helped keep me silent and in the marriage.
Abuse is not always easy to recognise, especially when there are no visible bruises.
Abuse is not always easy to recognise, especially when there are no visible bruises. It can look like control disguised as concern, fear mistaken for respect, or a slow erosion of confidence until you no longer trust your own judgement. When this happens gradually, you adapt. You become careful about what you say, how you say it and how the other person may react. Eventually, silence can feel safer than telling the truth.
Within some Christian communities, that silence can be reinforced by spiritual language. Women may hear: “God hates divorce”, “pray for your husband”, “be more submissive” or “do not destroy your family”. Scripture can be quoted without any understanding of coercive control, trauma or safety. The responsibility for preserving the relationship is quietly placed on the person being harmed, while the person causing the harm is protected from accountability.
READ MORE: This is what Jesus said about marriage and divorce
The pressure can also be cultural. As a Nigerian woman, I understood marriage not simply as a relationship between two people, but as something carrying family expectations, community reputation and spiritual meaning. You can fear being labelled disobedient, bitter or unable to keep a home. You may worry that speaking openly will shame your family, damage how others see you or make people question your faith. In that environment, endurance is often praised more readily than honesty.
These messages made it harder for me to separate God’s voice from the voices around me. I confused peace with the absence of confrontation. I confused forgiveness with having no boundaries. I believed that if I prayed correctly, behaved differently or became less demanding, the situation might change. Meanwhile, I was becoming smaller: doubting my instincts, apologising for my pain and losing sight of who I was.
READ MORE: Is divorce okay for Christians?
Rebuilding did not begin with a dramatic moment of confidence.
Rebuilding did not begin with a dramatic moment of confidence. It began with truth. I had to name what had happened without minimising it. I had to understand that submission is not permission for abuse, forgiveness does not remove consequences, and preserving the appearance of a marriage is not more important than protecting a life.
READ MORE: Moving on from divorce as a Christian woman
Before I went through with my divorce, I needed to make peace with God. I was fighting an internal battle: could I make this choice and still be a faithful Christian? Would God reject me? Would other Christians reject me? I went to my pastors for reassurance that I was right to leave and that God was still pleased with me. But eventually I realised no one else could settle this inside me. I had my own relationship with God and needed to be at peace with him. Knowing that God was still with me helped me process the divorce with greater clarity. I could separate God’s goodness from the fear, shame and judgement I had attached to divorce.
Finding my voice has been a gradual process. It has involved listening to my instincts again, accepting safe support and allowing myself to speak without first making my experience comfortable for other people. Healing has not meant returning to the person I was before. It has meant becoming someone who knows that her life, safety and voice matter.
I wrote When Heaven Was Silent for women who have wondered whether God sees them, especially when faith, culture and abuse have become painfully entangled. The title reflects a season when heaven seemed quiet, but I have learned that silence does not mean absence. Sometimes the first answer is the courage to tell the truth. Sometimes faith is not staying and enduring. Sometimes faith is believing that God wants you whole.
When Heaven Was Silent by Lucy D. Ola is an honest exploration of domestic abuse, faith, culture and the difficult journey of rebuilding a life and voice.
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