Where is Grace?

For weeks now I have carried heavy thoughts that I've been unable to commit to print. As with most things, I've chewed and stewed over this until it has lost all of it's flavor. I'm unsure how others will interpret my thoughts but I must present things as I see them and let the chips fall where they may...


For weeks and weeks I have been unclear in my direction. I haven't been able to focus or sleep. I have prayed for guidance like I never have before. And it seems that all I'm ever told is to "study the word". That's all God will say to me right now. I had only slept about 3 hours one night and woke at about 5 am. I couldn't go back to sleep because those words resounded with a BOOM! inside my head. I had to get up, go into my living room in the dark, early morning hours, curl up in my chair with eyes half peeled and "study the word". Begrudgingly I laid open my Bible and turned to Ephesians. In days prior to this I'd found myself very 'put off' by a lot of things I'd read in Genesis. It's jam packed with information and it jumps into things in a very out-of the blue fashion and the tone of it is very depressing in some areas. I'm not the biggest fan of King James anyway. His translation adheres to archaic Elizabethan English in which words like "advertise, suffer, filthy lucre, charity, gay clothing" no longer have literal meaning. It's difficult to understand and is phrased a bit backward by today's modern language standards. And it was well known even in his time that King James was a bit of a misogynist. BUT in rural south Georgia, it's hard to find a Bible that isn't the KJV. But despite my frustrations, I've also been told politely but kurtly by my God to "read from an untainted perspective". And so I've continued to study, not just read the Bible and I am trying desperately not to let the language discourage me or in some cases enrage me.You see, my story begins this way:


I had a very normal childhood and loving parents. However as a teenager I was raped by someone who was a few years older than myself and well known in the community I grew up in.. I spent 2 years being tormented by this person and a hand full of his friends. It got ugly, I got scared and then spent the next several years trying to run away if not literally, then emotionally. As a senior in high school, a friend of some friends forced himself on me in front of an apartment building and I managed to escape by staying incredibly calm. I amazed myself that evening. I have suffered some other minor incidents with men/boys like shoving, pushing, slapping, choking. I use the term "minor" loosely as I believe them to be major, yet small in comparison to the sexual abuses in terms of the lasting impact on me. But I am very fortunate to have my Daddy's love. He has been the strongest, most loving example of a man in my lifetime. I believe it's because of the greatness of that father-daughter bond that I pulled through and was able to greet sanity again, albeit years later. As a grown woman I can tell you that there is nothing, no relationship that compares or will ever compare to the one you share (or shared) with your father. Having a strong, stable, impenetrable relationship with him is a lifelong source of comfort and sanity even when experience with other men may try to tell you otherwise. And I was blessed a second time with the love of another great man, my husband.


It is very difficult and damned unpleasant to admit that in spite of my great blessings, I still hold a wealth of resentment and anger toward men as a whole. I would never show fear to them, but I am terribly afraid of men. As a woman, I know that a vast majority of dangers lurking in shadows are aimed at us. We are the prey, the weak, targets if you will! Most men will never know the fear that they can impose as they are rarely if ever the victims of kidnappings, rapes, torture, and sexually motivated murders. The number one cause of death among pregnant women is homicide (an unhappy statistic in case you were unaware). Wide interpretations of many different religions would have you believe that not only are women weak, but that we are here solely to serve and gratify men. That we should take no pleasure in life and certainly not in sex. Our greatest satisfaction should come from bringing men food, cleaning up after them, keeping house, giving birth to and rearing children. We are here for sex and work. The Islamic faith is very pronounced in it's demands for modesty and obedience among women. In many protestant and christian faiths it is accepted that women are weaker and meant to serve, be modest and give birth. Oh, and have long hair (she says with a snarl). People can often quote freely Ephesians 5:22 "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord." but I seldom hear them follow it with verse 25 "She is to be loved like Christ loved the church." And if it weren't for my own reading I would never have known that Proverbs 31:28 says "...she is to be praised by her family". I suppose I just wasn't paying close enough attention the day the preacher (of one of the many churches I've quit) said "...men, if you don't have a job and your wife is telling you to get a job and take care of your family, if she just won't get off your back then men, I say rebuke your woman! Let her know that she will submit to you and that you will take care of what needs to be done when you, the man of the house are ready!" I had probably already gotten up and left in front of a full congregation when he talked about loving and praising women...


Many girls have suffered physical and or sexual abuses, some at the hands of their own family members. In turn they act out, are promiscuous and turn to drugs, alcohol, sexual encounters and a string of bad boyfriends and male companions in order to compensate for the destruction of their safety. Their internal fence has been torn down. The ability to feel justified in protecting their bodies and personal space has been crushed and yet we judge them and call them whores and see them as "less than..." because most of us have no idea why they're behaving this way. We think that perhaps they are fundamentally flawed. WE certainly don't believe that this girl's father, a deacon in the church and a city councilman, could ever abuse his child. He is not capable of such acts. We don't believe her because we cannot conceive of the evil in our midst; When the truth is that there is more sickness in this world than one person can comprehend. If you give any validity to statistical numbers then by pure reason you would deduce that you know at least a half dozen pedarists or sexual predators. But I bet you can't guess who they are... And so based on personal experience and knowledge of my fellow survivor's stories, I'm hoping that you see where my fear and mistrust has sprung from. If not, read no further and crawl back into your hole of denial. If you can at all follow my train of thought, please bare with me. I think this is actually going somewhere.

For years I've struggled with finding peace. I need for the noise inside my brain to give way to some quiet. I need for my heart to relax. I've prayed, even begged for answers, for quiet, and have yet to be answered in a way that gives me any clarity or direction. I'll continue to do as I'm told and "study the word" knowing that it will surely lead me in the right direction. It's not the answer I want but it's all I'm getting. However, it is terribly difficult to study the word of God from an un-tainted  perspective when my soul still wants to rebel against man, and why wouldn't it? When you have suffered at the hands of evil men it is not ridiculous to expect that you might have some difficulty in submitting to one even if he's not the one who hurt you.

Deep down I know that I am no less than my husband. I'm loved and worthy and no less a child of God. We are different but we are equal. I am made in his likeness and he is made in God's image. But I am still afraid and trying desperately to balance submission to my husband with the reality that some men are simply not worthy of being followed. In spite of or perhaps because of this struggle, in my prayers I thank God for the wonderful men he has placed in my life. I ask that he helps me to raise one. And I ask for his mercy and his grace. Because it's grace that makes our God so amazing afterall... It's being forgiven, even though I don't deserve it, no matter the sin. It's being blessed with the love of a great family, a loving husband, healthy children, a nice home, a best friend, a beautiful planet, taste buds, a sense of smell. The list goes on and on. I rely on grace from God to sustain me and yet I have a hard time showing grace and mercy to those around me, especially to those who have hurt me. It doesn't seem fair does it?

Perhaps the road to peace will be paved in forgiveness, mine and theirs... And maybe, just maybe I'll find that wickedness lies in the soul and not in a gender.