Abuse

This post has been coming for a long while. It's a subject I've been pondering, but have been a little bit fearful of writing about. Abuse is a scary subject to tackle and I'm not sure that I have all my thoughts in order yet. But I'm going to share what I believe about abuse.

A couple of months ago I watched the movie The Stoning of Soraya M. It's the story of a married woman and mother in Iran whose abusive husband decides he doesn't want to be married to her anymore. He prefers someone younger. So, he falsely accuses her of adultery and leads the men in their village to stone her to death, all for his selfish purposes. It's a brutal story, with brutal images and one that is based on a true story. The scenes where she is stoned are pretty graphic and broke my heart. It disturbed me so much that I felt haunted by it for many weeks. It infuriates me that this type of treatment of women happens in our world. I imagined myself in this woman's place. A lonely, desperate place where she is allowed no voice, no options, where she has no one to turn to for help. A place where everyday is a new horror and living nightmare. Upon watching the stoning scenes where her husband, father and even her own sons pick up rocks to throw at her, I could only conclude that God's heart must be even more anguished than mine to see His creation treat each other in such a manner. It didn't matter to me that she lived in Iran or that she was a practicing Muslim. And I doubt it mattered to God either. The God I know loves unconditionally and I have no doubt that He was right there with her, holding her, weeping with her and loving her. I can't imagine anything less.

Watching this movie enraged me. I cannot fathom that this type of abuse is tolerated anywhere. And while for a split second I was justifying anger towards a Muslim belief system that allows it's men to treat their women worse than animals I realized that this behavior is not unique to that faith. Abuse happens everywhere, all over the world, in all types of religions. Even in Christian households right here in America.

And then a couple of weeks ago I received news that a wife and mother that I once knew was killed by her own husband, with his own hands, in her own home. Upon receiving this news, I felt literally as if I had been punched in the heart. I could barely function for a couple of days due to the shock and despair I  felt over it all. How does this happen? Who is safe? Is there any punishment that can fit this crime? What kind of person treats someone they profess to love in this manner? What kind of people are we that we allow abusive behavior to go unchecked?

Here is what I have decided. No one, and I mean not one person on this planet deserves to be abused. Not a child, not a woman, not a man. Not even an animal. Abuse in any form directed towards any living creature is simply unacceptable.

The sad thing is, there are so many different forms of abuse and too many of them are hard to detect. There is the obvious form of abuse, which is physical. But then we also have neglect, verbal abuse, emotional and mental abuse, and even spiritual abuse. Physical abuse is the most easily recognized, but sometimes I've wondered if it is also the lesser of all the various abuse evils.

I've been in situations with people where I would have welcomed physical abuse of some kind over the mental and emotional turmoil that was actually happening. I recognize that that is a sick statement, but there it is. I would have preferred a blow to the body over the blows to my heart. Here is the thing. Physical abuse is terrible. But it is the most easily recognized. It is the most easily healed and mended. It is the most easily believed. How do you claim abuse when the bruised and broken places are in your pysche and your heart. How can you prove abuse when it is you, your beliefs, your personality, your voice, which has been crushed and broken under someone's words or treatment of you. A bruised face or broken arm  seems to be an accepted, legitimate proof of abuse, but a broken mind or spirit? Not so much. It is easy to assess blame and responsibility when there is a dead body, but how do you prove culpable someone who has dealt the death blow to the soul of another. The abused may be with us in body, but inside they are the walking dead.

But here is another thing I realized. Who among us has not at one point or time abused another, even unknowingly. We may not be guilty of physical abuse against another, but who can claim that we have never neglected another person? Who can claim that we have never slashed another person to ribbons with our words or dealt a blow to another's self worth by a careless action that made another feel invaluable?

I am ashamed to admit that I have been guilty of abuse perpetrated on others. There have been a couple of times I used physical violence, a slap or a punch upon another person. I have made decisions that showed through my actions that I didn't value someone and inflicted emotional trauma on them. I guiltily admit that the most common form of abuse I have inflicted on others has been verbal. I may not be physically strong and I may not have beat someone's body with my fists, but I seem to be quite talented at using my words as a battering ram against others.

And I grieve over it. I ache that I may have caused anyone else the kind of mental and emotional pain and abuse that I myself have endured and know to be so devastating.

Here is the irony. We can be both the abused and the abuser. We can mourn the reports of men, women and children abused and killed at the hands of their loved ones, and in the same breath turn around and verbally assault the ones we love. We can wonder how an abuser can justify his/her actions and then show through neglect that those we love aren't valuable enough to warrant our time, attention and care.

It is the abused who abuse others. We all have wounds upon our souls that have been inflicted by others. We have all at some time in our lives been the victim of abuse whether it was a one time occurrence or repeated acts of violence against us. I have realized that for me personally it is when I am hurting the most that I lash out at others. Like a dog who licks his wounds and then bares his teeth at anyone who gets close enough to try to help. It is a protective defense mechanism.  But that is no excuse.

No matter how much we hurt, no matter how much our heart is shredded and bleeding, we have no right to inflict our pain upon another.  How God must weep to see how we hurt each other. How Jesus must mourn the way we, who He loves, selfishly hurt those who He loves. Because He loves us all, abused/abuser. We are all God's children and worthy of respect if for that fact alone.