I saw the painting high on a back wall of a thrift store. Immediately drawn to it, I bought it for next to nothing, planning to hang it in the study where I write.

It’s a seascape, but an unusual one, and my husband did not share my delight. He spoke in that can’t-you-see-this-is-not-a-good-thing voice. “When you look at that picture, what does it say to you?” he asked.

I could understand the question. A sky of brick-red clouds hangs over foam-capped ochre waves that crash against mahogany rocks.

But more: After years of confusion, I could finally understand the one who asked. For he did not want me gazing at anything that might help me see how dangerous, tumultuous and bleak my life had become.

I can’t recall what I answered then.

Today, I’m in a far better place. I’ve learned to see, and to leave, abuse. But looking across my study at that painting, I’m still drawn to it. And now, I can put into words what it tells me.

In the very act of seeing what is brown, murky and decidedly unsafe, there’s movement. There’s life. And the light is breaking through.

If you are confused, and wonder if what you’re experiencing is abuse, the post, Illusionists! The abusers we have not seen, offers a starting point for finding out. In addition to the resources mentioned there, you might also check out:

• Helena Knowlton at Confusion to Clarity
• Rebecca Davis at Here’s the Joy

The original version of “Light Is Breaking Through” was published May 16, 2016.