Vengeance Is Mine

By Dannie V. Soler

The word of God tells us in Romans 12:19, (KJV) “Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath, for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, says the Lord” (YouVersion)

And in Deuteronomy 32:35 (KJV) To me, belongeth vengeance, and recompense; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things, that shall come upon them make haste.” (YouVersion)

These scriptures clearly show us that we are not to avenge anyone, that vengeance of any kind belongs to God, and He will recompense or repay us for the evil done, we are not to take the law into our own hands. But what goes through your mind when someone is hurting you? You want to hurt them back, as hard as you could. I knew that, and it was taught to me growing up, still, that did not stop me from wanting to hurt the man that hurt me, I wanted to take revenge on that person who had so cruelly mistreated me and my daughter, and the only thing I wanted was for him to hurt as bad as he had hurt us and gloat about it. It left painful scars on me both physically and mentally it took years and much therapy not to feel the hurt and pain suffered for me to learn to forgive that person. When I came to Tulsa, I was distraught, hurt, and unsure of what I was doing nor even how I was supposed to do what it is that I was brought here to do. Getting one foot in front of the other from moment to moment and day to day was a monumental task for me. For a long time, I was not sure how to go about to starting again. Picking myself up again and moving on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 3, 2024
• ISBN: 9798369416105

Dannie V. Soler

Dannie V. Soler is a naturalized U.S. Citizen, a widow, and a graduate of Bay State College, a graduate of Victory Bible College, and is also a graduate of Oral Roberts University. She lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma with her daughter and granddaughter. She speaks two languages and currently works as a Bilingual Social Worker in the Tulsa area. Her passion is writing, and her hobbies are designing and making clothes for women and children.

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Copyright © 2024 by Dannie V. Soler.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scripture quotations marked KJV are from the Holy Bible, King James Version (Authorized Version). First published in 1611. Quoted from the KJV Classic Reference Bible, Copyright © 1983 by The www.zondervan.com Zondervan Corporation.

Rev. date: 02/21/2024

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CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Endnotes

INTRODUCTION

W hat goes through your mind when someone is hurting you? Do you want to hurt that person in return, as hard as you can?

The Word of God tells us,

Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath, for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, says the Lord. (Romans 12:19 KJV)

To me, belongeth vengeance, and recompense; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things, that shall come upon them make haste. (Deuteronomy 32:35 KJV))

These scriptures clearly show us that we are not to avenge anyone. Vengeance of any kind belongs to God, and He will recompense (repay) us for the evil done. We are not to take the law into our own hands.

I knew that; it was taught to me growing up. Still, that did not stop me from wanting to hurt the man who hurt me. I wanted to take revenge on that person who had so cruelly mistreated me and my daughter. The only thing I wanted was to hurt him as bad as he had hurt us. It left painful scars on me, both physically and mentally. It took years and much therapy before I didn’t feel the hurt and pain I’d suffered and years before I could learn to forgive him.

When I came to Tulsa, I was distraught, hurt, and unsure of what I was doing or even how I was supposed to do what I was brought here to do. Getting one foot in front of the other, moment to moment and day to day, was a monumental task for me. For a long time, I was not sure how to go about starting again. How could I pick myself up again and move on? I had to force myself out of the stupor I was in.

I can see why many women don’t want to bother starting over and prefer to stick it out in an abusive relationship, hoping that someday the violence will cease, and they will be normal again. For a while, I forgot who had directed me onto this new path, who got me here, or even who was giving me the courage to start over. All I needed was the will and the desire to get up and move from one point to another.

Starting over from zero is very difficult, but it can be done. All it takes is someone who believes in you and who will show you, help you, and lead you. I believe I had a good start. I believe God believed in me, even when I did not believe in myself. When I was determined to get out of that abusive situation, I seriously and wholeheartedly prayed, and God saw the determination in my heart. He also saw that I had had enough and could not live through any more of that. It was too much and more than I could take. I was desperate and needed immediate help. I saw how quickly God answered me; He cleared the path and made the way for me to escape the situation by leaving the state where I lived and not looking back.

I needed to do so much to begin a new life and leave all the hurt, chaos, and violence behind, but I did not know how to do it. I needed help, guidance, friends, and someone to talk to and tell me what to do. I not only felt alone; I was alone. I had no family and no friends because I had only just arrived in the city and met some families. In my loneliness and aloneness, the Holy Spirit impressed on me to write down all that I was feeling inside. I found that every time I wrote it out, all the hurt inside became less and less painful.

I was married to an extremely abusive spouse who abused me physically and mentally. He did all he could to make me feel that I was worthless and that I had to live under his control. I was living in a prison, and even when I was outside, I could not breathe. Private detectives followed me and watched my every move. Whatever I did, my spouse would find out, and he would find me, even when I did not give him any information.

I’ve read that many women from all walks of life have either gone through abuse or are living with an abusive partner. Many resign themselves to living with the situation in the hope that the abusive partner will change.

The National Coalition Against Domestic Violence (NCADV) offers the following definition of domestic violence:

Domestic violence is the willful intimidation, physical assault, battery, sexual assault, and/or other abusive behavior as part of a systematic pattern of power and control perpetrated by one intimate partner against another. It includes physical violence, sexual violence, threats, and economic, and emotional/psychological abuse. The frequency and severity of domestic violence vary dramatically.¹

National statistics show the following:

• On average, nearly 20 people per minute are physically abused by an intimate partner in the United States. During one year, this equates to more than 10 million women and men.

• 1 in 4 women and 1 in 9 men experience severe intimate partner physical violence, intimate partner contact sexual violence, and/or intimate partner stalking with impacts such as injury, fearfulness, post-traumatic stress disorder, use of victim services, contraction of sexually transmitted diseases, etc.

o 1 in 3 women and 1 in 4 men have experienced some form of physical violence by an intimate partner. This includes a range of behaviors (e.g. slapping, shoving, pushing) and in some cases might not be considered domestic violence.

o 1 in 7 women and 1 in 25 men have been injured by an intimate partner.

o 1 in 10 women have been raped by an intimate partner. Data is unavailable on male victims.

• 1 in 4 women and 1 in 7 men have been victims of severe physical violence (e.g. beating, burning, strangling) by an intimate partner in their lifetime.

• 1 in 7 women and 1 in 18 men have been stalked by an intimate partner during their lifetime to the point in which they felt very fearful or believed that they or someone close to them would be harmed or killed.

• On a typical day, there are more than 20,000 phone calls placed to domestic violence hotlines nationwide.

• The presence of a gun in a domestic violence situation increases the risk of homicide by 500%.

• Intimate partner violence accounts for 15% of all violent crimes.

• Women between the ages of 18-24 are most commonly abused by an intimate partner.

• 19% of domestic violence involves a weapon.

• Domestic victimization is correlated with a higher rate of depression and suicidal behavior.

• Only 34% of people who are injured by intimate partners receive medical care for their injuries.²

CHAPTER 1

I t was an unusually dark and dreary Sunday morning in August 1976 when my daughter and I rode the bus back home after attending my childhood friend’s birthday party. Our faces were just as dreary, mirroring our thoughts. It was a Sunday like no other, and because of my strong premonition, it would be the turning point of my daughter’s and my life; apparently, she was feeling the same thing that I was fee ling.

My husband was an extremely controlling person and rarely listened to what I had to say. There would be a quiet rage, and then came the blame—everything was always my fault. He could not be contradicted—or else. Everyone who met him was afraid to be near him because he often showed his ugly side. I believe he liked it that way because it kept people away from him, and they did not ask him too many questions, which he also liked. As he put it, Stay out of ma bidness.

Our going home held the key to my definitive decision, and it would prove to be a day of reckoning for Joseph, the narcissistic, egotistical, sadistic man I called my husband.

Sadistic personality disorder is a disorder that is defined by a pervasive pattern egosyntonic pattern of sadistic and cruel behavior. People with this disorder were thought to have a desire to control others. They accomplish this through the use of physical or emotional violence. Individuals possessing sadistic personalities tend to display recurrent aggression and cruel behavior. People with this disorder will use violence and aggression in an attempt to control and dominate others.³

In their article Personality Disorders, authors Paroma Mitra and Dimy Fluyau noted that narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) is a complex personality disorder and is often detected with other affective and personality disorders.⁴

I wanted to know to whom I was married, and the articles above described all of Joseph’s character traits. I did not know the extent of the cruelty that was wrapped up in this six-foot-three man, nor did I know what would set him off in a rage. When he wanted something from me, that something was still to be discovered.

I knew I had to do something. I had to decide not only for myself but also for my little one. She was all that mattered to me, and at her age, she had already been through a lot. This path I had put us both on was not her choice, and she didn’t deserve it. She came into this world not by choice or through romance; she was conceived by force.

My daughter’s father was an older, dark Spanish man from the Dominican Republic; he looked to be in his early forties. I was told he was a longtime friend of the family, and my grandparents rented to him, so he was also a tenant. I’m not sure how long he had known my grandparents or when he came to Mamá’s house. (Mamá is what we call my grandmother.) I suppose he was one of the many visitors coming through my grandmother’s house. Someone always was paying her a visit; somebody always was stopping by to say hello.

Mamá once said, Mostly, they come at dinnertime. Sometimes, after she had dished out everybody’s food and we were eating around the table, someone would knock at the door—and we would start to eat faster because no one wanted to share any food on their plates. Somebody once said to me, Let’s hurry up and eat, just in case somebody comes.

It never failed; people always knew the time when we started to eat. As soon as Mamá heard someone’s voice or