By Dr. Gladys Childs
The screams tore through our Texas evening like a siren.
Family members, scattered around the house, ran into the living room—my brother, fresh from the shower, wrapped in a towel, water still dripping down his face.
“What was that?” I asked, heart pounding. From the vacant house next door came sharp, unsettling sounds. Soon, the street in front of us was a cacophony. Police cars filled the street. Neighbors spilled out of their homes. The ambulance arrived, then Life Flight.
I watched as someone was loaded into the helicopter. At 13, in eighth grade, I had no idea those sounds would unravel our lives.
The following day, my brother was arrested, accused of the crime that had happened next door. How could that be?
He was home with us, still damp from the shower. The nightmare began as circumstantial evidence quickly piled up. The following summer, as my dad reached his long-planned retirement, we packed up and moved to Arkansas, carrying the weight of ongoing court battles with us.
A Glimpse of Hope
Shortly after moving, a stranger knocked on our door, inviting me to a church youth group.
I had no friends in this new town, and nothing better to do, so I went. Later, I received an invitation to attend church camp, and it was there that I met Christ. Jesus’ love didn’t silence the ache; He stepped into it, raw and unfiltered.
When I heard 1 Corinthians 13, it wasn’t just words about love; it was a love that could transform a life lost in noise and chaos. For the next four years, that little country church became my refuge, surrounding me with love and laying the first foundations of my faith. During that time, the years of litigation continued to drain us.
By the time I was a sophomore in college, the verdict landed like a sledgehammer:
decades in a maximum security prison for an innocent man. Our family, already fractured by my mother’s alcoholism and abuse, splintered further. “It would have been easier if he had committed the crime,” I whispered to myself, the weight of his innocence crushing me. Depression settled heavily around me. I concealed my pain, keeping family secrets hidden as I had been taught.
When Christians around me said, “Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” offering platitudes like “just pray” or “have faith,” I felt unseen. They saw my polished exterior, blind to the chaos within.
The Weight of Injustice
My brother’s case was complex. He was innocent, yet lies and assumptions had trapped him.
Witnesses contradicted themselves, timelines twisted, and every day of his incarceration reminded us of our helplessness. Visits carried a mix of hope and despair, love and longing.
The injustice wasn’t just in the courtroom; it echoed in our home, in fractured relationships, and in the silent corners of my heart.
Miraculously, after four long years, he was released. The circumstances were improbable, almost impossible to explain outside of divine intervention. Those years left scars, but they also planted seeds of purpose, shaping the path I would walk for the rest of my life.
From Pain to Purpose
The pain of those years lingered. I became determined to confront wounds with biblical truth, without judgment or shame.
Tired of fluffy Christianese that dodged hard questions, I wanted to address life’s messes honestly. In the years after my brother’s release, life moved forward, though not without its challenges.
I attended seminary where my faith deepened and my calling became clearer. I married a fellow student and stepped into life as a pastor’s wife, learning how to walk with people through their pain while raising my son.
I also taught as a religion professor, guiding students wrestling with faith and doubt. I also served as a chaplain walking alongside college students through their joys and struggles.
Those seasons didn’t erase the ache of my past, but they layered wisdom and compassion onto my life, quietly preparing me for trials I couldn’t yet see.
Life, however, tested me again. As interim dean at the university, a small group of faculty orchestrated a coup, built on lies, to derail my promotion. Years later, one of them made a false accusation against me. I spent nine hours with two lawyers listening as countless people spoke lies against me. Still, I stood firm as their stories shifted under my insistence on truth, and my reputation for honesty exposed the deception. That day, though it wrung me out, did not destroy me; it confirmed what I had learned early: God’s love is relentless, and He will always redirect us to where we belong.
Those lessons, tested in pain and forged through struggle, became the foundation for the work I do today.
Our Mess, His Purpose
Today, known as the “Truth Doctor,” I help uncover the lies standing between people and God’s truth.
My TV show, Bare Faith, born out of the pain and faith struggles of my life, carries the tagline: Where raw faith and deep pain meet a relentless God. God met me in every mess, turning injustice into a calling.
He can do the same for you. Where is God calling you to trust Him in the midst of your pain?
Dr. Gladys Childs hosts the TV show Bare Faith, where raw faith and deep pain meet a relentless God. Known as the “Truth Doctor,” she names the lies that stand between people and God’s truth. Pastor’s wife, author, speaker, former religion professor, and boy mom, Gladys speaks with authority, heart, and real-life grit. Learn more at gladyschilds.com. Follow on Instagram or Facebook.
