October 14, 2015 A Broken Vessel of Honor As a victim of childhood rape, I didn’t see how I could ever be a “vessel of honor” for God. As any child who’s been abused, I thought everything was my fault. As the years continued and different types of abuse piled up, I had absolute proof it must be my fault. I must have been created warped and messed up. Like a child making a clay jar in school, God must have been having a bad day when He designed me. I was misshapen. I couldn’t stand straight. I had holes and bulges. I was incapable of holding anything.

Source: A Broken Vessel of Honor | Bloom In the Dark