You hear about domestic violence and how the person hurting you is capable of killing you. I spend my time thinking about my husband and the abuse and think to myself that he would never do that to me - he loves me despite his violent temper and demeaning ways. I cannot envision him killing me. And yet, if I stop to consider the fact that any one of us is capable of murder it stops my heart for a moment.

If someone were to harm one of my children or if I had to kill another human being to protect them I know I could do it. If I am capable of imaging taking another persons like in defense of my child, is it really too far fetched to believe that a man who literally goes for my throat when he is angry enough is capable of killing me? I don't think so. He may not be a cold blooded killer - dreaming of my death by his hands but who is to say that in those minutes when his hands have so frequently closed around my throat, cutting off my air and I am fighting to not let him see my fear that he couldn't be so angry that he doesn't let go? How much of a miracle is it that when the darkness starts creeping in the edge of my vision he had the presence of mind to ease the pressure in his hands, letting me breathe again?

When my husband would hit me, he rarely leaves marks. How premeditated is it for him to know where to hit or with what amount of force to not leave a bruise? Taking his knuckle and striking me with a headache and a sore spot for a week but it can't be seen. A slap leaves a red mark that fades within an hour. I may be able to swallow without pain for a month but no one can see the damage. There are no finger marks because he grabs and squeezes the windpipe and not the neck. Marks that may be left on my legs from punches are easily explained away - everyone bumps into things right? I have never before had a black bruise until he punched me three times in the upper arm - and there I hosted a bruise that was as black as tar and the exact size of his fist. For more than six months it could be seen lurking underneath my skin. How many broken capillaries and blood vessels does it take to make a bruise that color?

It began quietly enough. Abuse seems to creep up on you somehow. One minute your a happy, newly married woman and the next your a shadow of yourself, jumping at sudden movements and afraid to make your husband angry. One day you drop and break a jar of spaghetti sauce on the floor and are crying because he is going to be angry with you - and that's before he ever laid a hand on you. You find yourself making excuses for him to yourself and others. In the beginning he is just yelling at you. Sure, you don't like it but its just yelling after all... its not like he is hitting you or the girls. But it eventually get to the point where you wish he would stop the yelling and just HIT you for heaven's sakes because its over faster and somehow it hurts less. Even so, your surprised when it happens for the first time. One minute your arguing and the next suddenly WHAM! he reaches out and slaps your upper thigh through your jeans, leaving a bruise that is a complete handprint right down to the division between the pads of each finger of his hand. He doesn't touch you again for months so you figure that it was a one time thing... he just lost his temper for a moment and you convince yourself that he will never do it again.

Time passes and the abuse gets more frequent but he is less controlling now because he's already separated you from your friends and family. You have even treated them badly because the pressure from him and the shame of the truth is too much to bear and you don't want them to know. Now you feel completely alone because if your friends or family had treated you the way you treated them you wouldn't want anything to do with them. Surely they feel the same way right?

One night your children are away with your mother and he's in jail. The timing is perfect. You have a full Rx bottle of antidepressants... 300 mg/day for 30 days. There's some valium... not an entire months worth but enough. Your father in law will come to the house in the morning and when you don't answer the door he will let himself in, and by then it will all be done and finally, blessedly, you will be at peace. No more court, no threat of jail for something he did and you are innocent of. Now more abuse or guilt. Unfortunately, you have three beautiful daughters and at the moment your the only barrier between then and their father. You don't think that he will hit them - he hasn't so far but what if you are gone and there's no one else to take the blows or to step in when he is yelling too much and to redirect his anger? But even these thoughts are not enough to make you leave him so God puts you in a place where he is certain that you will hear him. A place where you have no freedom to run away from his voice and the message he wants you to hear.

I spent 104 days in a jail for women for a crime that my husband committed and I was brought in on the charges. I committed no offense and the crown attorney admits that I should never have gone to jail. There is no where for you to run away and hide from your thoughts. You are stuck there with your every move controlled and an abundance of time to think about your life. I used to believe that they were trying to bore us to death but now I realize that by not occupying our minds, we had no alternative but to reflect on our lives. A lot of women find God in the halls of prison - whether they remember him when they are released is another story, but for those weeks or months, and in some cases years he has your attention, and if you are willing to listen he will talk to you.

I started a journal while incarcerated and used visual ways to document my marriage and the abuse within it. I placed a picture of a man in the center of the page and wrote all of the abusive things that I could think of all around him - filling the page. I look at that now and feel overwhelmed at the magnitude of it all. The visual helped me to SEE what my mind couldn't comprehend... and it scared me. It scared me enough that I got down right then and there and I prayed that Heavenly Father would give me a clear, lightening bolt answer as to whether or not my decision to walk away from my marriage was the right one. The following day I attended chapel services for the first time in the previous weeks of my incarceration. The speaker talked about his own incarceration - how he believed that God had to bring him to a place where he would listen to him because anywhere else his mind and his heart were closed to the message he was supposed to hear. "Perhaps you are selling drugs or using drugs" he said. "Maybe you are here because God wants you to change your life, to get clean and sober, to be a better mother to your children." he hesitated for a moment, then turned and looked at me.

"Perhaps its your relationship. Maybe the man that you are with is no good for you"

I couldn't have asked for a clearer sign.

I was supposed to be incarcerated for 365 days. I was released in 104... with no further charges and no threat of further jail time. The crown said it was because they know that I was not the "controlling mind" in these matters, that my husband was. But I know that it was Heavenly Father getting me to a place where I would finally listen to him.

I met a woman named Margaret in jail and when we became good friends she told me:

"Be careful when you ask God to change your life, because he will burn your house down in order to build you a new one"

Truer words have never been spoken, and like the Phoenix I will arise anew from the ashes... because God in his wisdom has burnt down my house.