This morning, as I was listening to my audio Bible, a thought surfaced that gripped my heart. It was the story of Tamar, daughter of King David. It's a story that still breaks my heart every time I read it.

She was violated by her brother Amnon, a moment that shattered her purity, dignity, and sense of safety. Yet the deepest wound, I imagine, wasn’t only the act itself, but what came after. When her father, David, heard of what had happened, Scripture records his response in one haunting line:

Yet though David was angry, he did nothing. He did not confront Amnon, nor comfort Tamar. The silence that followed was deafening. And perhaps even more piercing than the violence was what came after — the absence of protection, the quiet dismissal of her pain, and the loss of safety within her own family.

Some translations record David’s words: “Has your brother been with you? Never you mind.” (2 Samuel 13:20, paraphrased). What pain must have pierced Tamar’s soul in that moment — when the one person who should have defended her honour and comforted her tears turned away instead. The betrayal of trust. The absence of protection. The abandonment of love.

I understand that pain.

Having been molested as a teenager, I know what it is to carry a wound that no one seemed willing to acknowledge. To live in a quiet sackcloth of shame, wearing invisible ashes that others refuse to see. For years, I bore that silence — a heaviness not just from what happened, but from the unspoken message: You’re on your own.

Yet even here, in this place of brokenness, God met me.

He is not like the kings of this world. He is the Father who sees, the Defender who restores, the Healer who never looks away.

He weeps over every injustice done in secret. He gathers every tear that others ignored. He wraps the violated and forgotten in His tender presence and whispers, “You are Mine. I saw it all. I will heal what was stolen.”

What Tamar’s story teaches me is this: human protection can fail, but divine compassion never does. God is still writing redemption over the places that once held despair. The ashes of yesterday are the soil in which He plants tomorrow’s beauty.

💡Reflection:

• Have there been times when those meant to protect you turned away? 🤔

• How has God shown Himself to be your Defender in those hidden places? 🤔

• What might “beauty for ashes” look like in your story today? 🤔

🙌 Prayer:

Father, thank You that You see what others overlook. Thank You that no pain is wasted in Your hands. Heal the wounds of rejection and betrayal within me. Restore the voice that shame once silenced, and let my life testify of Your compassion and power to redeem. Clothe me, Lord, not in sackcloth, but in Your beauty and strength. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

🎺 Affirmation:

Even when others failed to protect me, God never abandoned me. I am seen, known, and loved beyond measure.

✨ A Note from My Core:

This reflection comes from the very heart of who I am — a woman whose faith is her foundation, whose compassion compels her to reach for the broken-hearted, and whose courage refuses to let pain have the final word.

My story is one of restoration — turning ashes into beauty, sorrow into song, and fear into freedom through the healing love of Jesus Christ.