A friend shared her story with me:
Mom married Dad and soon found herself in a horribly abusive union. His abuse didn't stop with her. We children suffered under his tirades also. Many years later before she died, she shared a couple of incidents with me, her daughter.
At any minute Dad would fly into a rage with no real provocation. It could be caused by a slight misstep. A burned potato. Or a word said with a wrong inflection. All our lives were a constant tight-rope walk. His evil nature ever simmered below the surface like an agitated volcano, ready to erupt at any minute.
Mother learned early in life to rely on Jesus. Life married to Dad drove Mother more solidly into Jesus' arms. I truly believe she would have died at Dad's hand, had it not been for Jesus' protection.
She told me about a time she stood in her bedroom and heard him snarl from the kitchen, "I'm going to kill you."
By this time she was so worn from his explosions she prayed, …