Revenge, injustice, and the God who sees everything

There is a question so many women carry in silence. We may never say it out loud in church. We may never admit it to the people around us. But late at night, in the quiet, it rises up from somewhere deep:

“Lord, did You see what happened to me?”

Maybe you’ve loved someone who betrayed you. Trusted someone who used your vulnerability against you. Watched someone who hurt you convince everyone else that YOU were the problem. And maybe the most painful part wasn’t even what they did — it was what happened afterward.

They moved on. They looked happy. They found someone new. People kept admiring them. Some of them even kept serving in church. And you were left standing in the rubble, wondering if God had somehow looked away at the exact moment you needed Him most.

Sisters, today we are going somewhere deep. We’re going to talk about revenge, injustice, unanswered prayers, and what it means to trust God when the person who hurt you appears to be getting away with everything.

And before we begin, hear this: you never have to share the details of your pain to do this work. You can reflect privately, journal quietly, or simply sit with the Lord. This is a safe place to be honest.

A STORY THAT SHOULD MAKE US UNCOMFORTABLE

Open your Bible to Mark 6:17–29, the account of John the Baptist’s death. Read it slowly, and notice the players: who tells the truth, who holds the grudge, who has the power, and who ultimately makes the decision.

John the Baptist was not imprisoned because he was dishonest. He was imprisoned because he told the truth. Herod had married Herodias, his brother’s wife, and John publicly confronted the unlawful relationship.

“Therefore Herodias had a quarrel against him, and would have killed him; but she could not.” (Mark 6:19, KJV)

Notice something. Herodias did not want to hear the truth; she wanted the person speaking it silenced. But Herod was conflicted. Scripture tells us he recognized John as a righteous and holy man, and even listened to him, though John’s words troubled him. And still, he kept him in prison.

Think about that. Herod could recognize what was right and still refuse to do it.

How many women have lived some version of that? A husband who knows his behavior is hurtful but continues anyway. A family member who knows the truth but stays silent. A church leader who admits wrongdoing privately but refuses to address it publicly. Someone who says, “I know I hurt you,” and then changes nothing.

Then came the birthday banquet. Herodias’s daughter danced, Herod made an extravagant promise, and Herodias saw her opening. She asked for John’s head.

“And the king was exceeding sorry; yet for his oath’s sake, and for their sakes which sat with him, he would not reject her.” (Mark 6:26, KJV)

John died. Herodias got exactly what she asked for. And the banquet went on.

Sit with that for a moment. A righteous man was killed. The people responsible kept their power. And the Bible does not tell us that God swooped in to rescue him.

That is a hard truth: faith does not mean every painful situation ends the way we want. But this story shows us something else, something powerful. Human power does not determine the ultimate value of a person’s life or the truth of their testimony. John’s death did not make Herodias right. And someone’s ability to silence you does not make your experience untrue.

WHEN THE WRONG PERSON APPEARS TO WIN

Let me describe a woman you might recognize. You don’t have to tell anyone who she reminds you of. Just notice.

She spent years in a marriage where her husband criticized her, manipulated conversations, and made her question her own mind. In public, he was charming. He helped people. He went to church. He told everyone how much he loved his family. When she finally spoke about the truth of the marriage, people said, “But he’s such a wonderful man!”

Eventually the marriage ended. He started another relationship. He posted beautiful photos. People congratulated him. And she was still trying to rebuild her confidence from the ground up.

Sit with these reflection questions:

• What is particularly painful about watching someone receive admiration when you know another side of their behavior?

• How might a woman begin questioning her own experience when others keep praising the person who hurt her?

• Why do we sometimes feel that we need everyone else to recognize the truth before we can move forward?

• What would it mean to believe your experience matters even if certain people never acknowledge it?

• How might your healing change if you stopped measuring your progress against what appears to be happening in his life?

And finish this sentence, honestly, even if only in your journal: “The hardest part of not being believed was ______.”

THE PERSON WHO NEVER STOPS

There’s another kind of wound — the one that keeps reopening.

Picture a woman whose family member criticizes her at every turn. At every gathering, something happens: a sarcastic comment, a humiliating joke, a private conversation repeated to others, a story twisted to make her look bad. When she responds, she hears, “You’re too sensitive. I was only joking. Why do you always create drama?” And the other relatives say, “Just ignore it. That’s how she is.”

She’s exhausted. And she wonders why SHE is always the one expected to tolerate it, while the person causing the harm faces no accountability at all.

Sisters, sometimes the deepest injury is being expected to stay silent so everyone else can stay comfortable. And when you finally set a boundary, people may get upset — not because you did wrong, but because the family system is changing. Peace is not simply the absence of an argument. Sometimes what looks like peace is just one person quietly absorbing everyone else’s dysfunction.

Reflect on this:

• Have you ever been expected to remain silent because speaking up would make other people uncomfortable?

• What did that expectation teach you about the importance of your feelings?

• What happens inside you when someone repeatedly hurts you and then minimizes what happened?

• What is the difference between refusing to retaliate and allowing someone continued access to mistreat you?

• What boundary could protect your peace without requiring you to punish the other person?

And hear this clearly, because it matters: “Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.” (Romans 12:19, KJV) does NOT prohibit accountability, reporting abuse, seeking legal protection, or setting boundaries. Leaving vengeance to God does not mean leaving yourself or your children unprotected.

THE REVENGE WE DON’T LIKE TO ADMIT WE WANT

Now let’s talk about something many Christian women are afraid to say out loud.

Sometimes we want revenge.

Not always the physical kind. Sometimes we simply want the person who hurt us to feel the humiliation we felt. We want the truth exposed. We want their friends to find out who they really are. We want the new partner to see the pattern. We want the people who doubted us to apologize. And if we’re being completely honest, sometimes we want them to hurt, because WE are hurting.

Here is what I need you to understand: having an angry thought is not the same as choosing to act on it. And acknowledging your anger does not mean you have failed God. The Psalms are full of cries of anguish and longing for justice. Read Psalm 13:1–2 — David asks how long God will seem distant, how long he must wrestle with sorrow. He doesn’t pretend everything is fine. He brings his real heart to God. So can you.

EXERCISE: THE SENTENCE I NEVER SAID

This is private. No one will ask you to read it aloud. Take out a piece of paper, and give yourself a couple of quiet minutes with each line.

First, write: “What I wish you understood about what you did to me is…”

Then: “What I wanted to happen to you afterward was…”

And finally: “What I actually needed after being hurt was…”

Now pause and look at what you wrote. Because underneath the desire for revenge, we so often discover a different longing entirely — to be believed, to be protected, to be acknowledged, to receive an apology, to know our suffering mattered, to feel safe again, to finally stop carrying the consequences of another person’s choices.

Then ask yourself these two questions:

• What did you notice about the difference between what you wanted to happen to the person and what you needed for yourself?

• Could some of those needs be addressed without waiting for that person to change?

THE HARDEST QUESTION: WHERE IS GOD?

Read Revelation 6:10, where those who have been killed cry out, asking how long until God judges and avenges. Notice something extraordinary: even in this heavenly vision, the martyrs ask, “How long?” — and they are not condemned for it. Their question is right there in Scripture.

So when you cry out, “Lord, how long?” — you are not asking something God has never heard.

There is a difference between saying “God, I want justice,” and “God, I will destroy this person myself.” One brings the longing for justice before God. The other hands revenge the keys to your life.

THE CURTAIN ANALOGY

Imagine sitting in a theater. The curtain is closed. You hear movement behind it, you know people are preparing something — but you cannot see what’s happening. You don’t know which scene comes next. You don’t know how the story ends.

Now imagine leaving after the first act because you’re SURE you already know the ending.

That is what we so often do with injustice. We see the person who hurt us looking happy. The new relationship. The new home. The vacation photos. And we conclude: “God has done nothing.”

But what do we actually know? We know what we can see. We do not know everything about that person’s life, every consequence of their choices, or everything God may be doing behind a curtain we cannot see past.

And hear this carefully, sisters — trusting God does NOT require you to invent hidden misery in the other person’s life. You don’t have to imagine they’re secretly suffering. They may look happy for a long time. They may never apologize. They may never publicly admit what happened. John the Baptist never saw earthly justice for what was done to him — and yet Jesus Himself affirmed John’s greatness. The value of John’s life was not determined by Herod’s verdict. And the value of your life is not determined by whether the person who hurt you is ever exposed.

Read Psalm 73:2–3, 16–17, 23–26. Asaph nearly lost his footing watching the wicked prosper — until he went into the presence of God, and his whole perspective shifted.

Reflect:

• Have you ever interpreted another person’s apparent happiness as evidence that God had forgotten you?

• What do you believe justice would need to look like for you to feel that your suffering mattered?

• What happens when you make your peace dependent on witnessing another person’s consequences?

• If you never receive an apology, what would you still want your future to look like?

• What does it mean to trust God’s justice while acknowledging that you do not know how or when it will unfold?

• How might your relationship with God change if you allowed yourself to tell Him that waiting has been difficult?

WHEN YOU START COMPARING: THE NEW WOMAN

Here’s a scenario that undoes so many strong women. She leaves a painful marriage. Months later, she learns her former husband is engaged. He seems affectionate, attentive. He’s taking his new partner on the very trips she once begged him for. And the thoughts come flooding: “Why wasn’t I worth that? Maybe I was the problem. Maybe God is blessing him and punishing me.”

Sister, another person’s relationship is not a measurement of your worth. You cannot know the full reality of anyone’s relationship from photographs. And even if someone behaves differently with a new person, that does not erase the harm they caused you. Your healing cannot depend on proving that the next woman will suffer what you suffered. You are allowed to leave that question unanswered.

Reflect:

• Why might someone feel personally rejected when a former partner appears to treat someone else differently?

• What painful beliefs about herself might this situation awaken?

• How could she respond to those beliefs without monitoring the new relationship?

• What might change if she stopped asking, “Why her?” and began asking, “What do I need now?”

• What does it look like to release someone else’s future while reclaiming responsibility for your own?

GOD’S JUSTICE IS NOT YOUR ASSIGNMENT

Imagine carrying a heavy suitcase everywhere you go. Inside it is every lie, every betrayal, every humiliation, every unanswered question, every apology you never received. You carry it to church. To work. To bed. To family gatherings. Even on vacation. The person who hurt you may be long gone, but the suitcase travels with you everywhere.

And one day, you’re simply exhausted. Not because your pain was imaginary — but because you have been carrying something unbearably heavy for a very long time.

When God says to leave vengeance to Him, He is not asking you to deny what happened. He is inviting you to stop making revenge your life’s assignment. You can seek justice. You can tell the truth. You can set boundaries. You can pursue legal protection. You can protect your children. And you can decide that your remaining years will not be organized around watching someone else’s downfall.

EXERCISE: WHAT AM I STILL CARRYING?

On a piece of paper, draw a suitcase. Inside it, write the things you’re still carrying. Let them come honestly. For example:

• The apology I never received.

• The years I can’t get back.

• The lies people believed.

• The marriage I thought I had.

• The relationship with my children that changed.

• The fear of being hurt again.

• The anger that they moved on.

• The need for everyone to know the truth.

No one has to see this. Now look at what you wrote, and ask:

• Which item feels heaviest?

• Which item is something you can actually take action on?

• Which item depends entirely on another person’s choices?

• Which item might need support, grief, prayer, or time — rather than an immediate solution?

If you’re doing this with sisters, share just ONE word from your suitcase. Watch how many of you have carried the same things. Different stories, but none of us has to pretend that healing is simple.

Then, underneath the suitcase, write this: “What I want to carry into the next chapter of my life instead is…” Perhaps peace. Wisdom. Discernment. Healthy friendships. Courage. Confidence. Joy. A closer walk with God. Freedom from constant comparison. Name the one you want most, and begin reaching for it.

THE WOMAN WHO NO LONGER NEEDS TO WATCH

Let me leave you with something I want you to hold onto.

There may come a day when you realize you haven’t checked his social media. You haven’t asked anyone how he’s doing. You haven’t wondered whether his new relationship is failing. You haven’t rehearsed what you’d say if you saw him.

Not because what happened was acceptable. Not because he deserved to escape accountability. But because your own life has finally become more important to you than watching his.

You’re reading again. Laughing again. Building friendships. Serving God. Learning. Traveling. Enjoying your family. Discovering parts of yourself that were buried for years beneath simple survival.

And maybe one day you’ll realize: “I spent so much time waiting for God to change his life that I almost missed what God was inviting me to rebuild in mine.”

That is not forgetting. That is reclaiming your life.

BEFORE YOU GO

Finish this sentence, out loud, or in your journal: “If I stopped waiting for the person who hurt me to change, I would begin…”

Then ask yourself the most important question of all: What is one small action I can take this week toward that life? Call a friend. Attend a women’s gathering. Schedule a counseling appointment. Start journaling. Take a walk. Open your Bible. Get help setting a boundary. Do something you enjoy without a shred of guilt.

THIS WEEK’S ASSIGNMENT:

• Memory verse: Romans 12:19

• Read Psalm 73 during the week.

• Journal on three questions:

   1. What injustice am I still struggling to understand?

   2. What would it look like to entrust that injustice to God while taking responsibility for my own safety and healing?

   3. What is one beautiful thing I want to begin building in my life?

YOU WERE MADE FOR THIS NEXT CHAPTER — COME BUILD IT WITH US

Sister, if this stirred something in you, I don’t want it to end when you close this page. This is exactly the work we do together — and I want you to be part of what God is building.

I’m starting a WoMovement — a movement of women who refuse to let what was done to them become who they are. Women who are done surviving and ready to LIVE again. And I’ve created the tools to walk it out with you:

• My book — where this journey begins. Get your copy at http://www.duarte.coach/book.

• The companion workbook — where the reflections and exercises become real, personal, and lasting. Find it at http://www.duarte.coach/workbook.

• And if you’ve never joined us for Bible Chicks — our international women’s Bible study — there is a seat here with your name on it. Come be part of this circle of women at http://www.duarte.coach/bc.

You don’t have to do the next chapter alone. Come do it with us.

A PRAYER FOR YOU

Heavenly Father,

Thank You that You see the woman reading these words right now. You know her story — the words spoken behind closed doors, the nights she cried, the prayers she whispered when she couldn’t explain her pain to anyone else.

Lord, she may still be waiting for justice, for an apology, for the truth to come out. She may be grieving a relationship that may never be restored. So today, gently, take the heavy suitcase out of her hands. Pull up the roots of bitterness before they can grow. Remind her that what she can see is not everything You know.

Give her courage to speak truth, wisdom to set boundaries, and strength to protect herself and her children. But do not let her confuse surrender with silence, or trust with passivity.

Restore what has been wounded in her. Restore her joy, her confidence, her ability to trust wisely, her desire to live fully. Help her stop looking backward so often that she misses the beautiful things You are placing right in front of her.

Remind her, Father, that she is seen. She is loved. She has value. And her story is not over.

We place her unanswered questions in Your hands. We place her longing for justice in Your hands. And we place her future in Your hands.

In the mighty name of Jesus, Amen.