The Pursuit of Justice

By Tanya T. Warrington

Justice. We want and need justice after a crime has been committed against us. We want to know that the person who committed crime will not be doing the same things to us again or committing the same crime against other innocent people. We feel anger about the damage done. We recognize immediately that no one can undo the crime—something unfair has happened to us and we’ve lost intangible things that no one can just return to us. The legal system cannot restore our broken heart or our shattered trust or our damaged sense of safety. Social Services cannot reset time and arrange for us to be born into a healthy family to permanently replace our dysfunctional and abusive home. A safehouse counselor cannot wave a magic wand that will take away all the nightmares and memories that haunt an abused wife. A minister cannot restore a child’s innocence that has been stolen by an incestuous relative.


I am so grateful for all the help that is now available to victims of violent crimes perpetrated by family or friends. Domestic violence is now a well-known term. Society now generally views abuse as a horrible crime. Perpetrators are now prosecuted, some of the time. Abused spouses can go to a safehouse or talk to someone on a crisis line, etc.  Help is available, although the numbers of people needing assistance far outweighs the available resources. Safehouses have to turn people away. Too many counselors, pastors, and law enforcement officers are not adequately trained on how to effectively help victims. Courts are overcrowded and judges are called upon to try to decipher if the alleged victim is truly a victim.


For the person who has been raped or physically abused or emotionally torn to ribbons the system is frightening. When I was on my way to my second restraining order court date, I fully expected that the judge would believe my husband who was so charming and eloquent, not me. I had become fully convinced after years of abuse that I was not very smart, not very likeable, not very trustworthy, not very valuable…well, just plain “not” anything worthwhile. Who would listen to me? I spoke so quietly that most people had difficulty hearing me anyway. And proof? I had not one shred of proof. I had fully invested myself into denying any abuse, not shining a light on it.


Walking to the courthouse, the lawyer re-asked me questions that the legal secretary had already asked me and that this lawyer’s partner had already asked.  I was already unsure of myself and distrustful of others, fear steadily climbed the more repetitious the questions were. This female was supposed to help me? The law office must have horrible communication systems or this lawyer must not be very bright. I began to cry. I had refused to cry when my husband tormented me, but now I cried. She told me to pull myself together. I did, but with a sinking conviction that the temporary restraining order would be taken away.


Then the lawyer informed me that there had been a last minute change of judges which was not good for us. The judge who had been originally scheduled had a favorable reputation of supporting the abused but that this new judge had given some unfavorable rulings in the past. Great. I silently prayed, asking God to be our judge. Then I remembered again that I might be going to hell for breaking my marriage vows. My husband must be mentally ill—but I wasn’t staying with him in sickness or in health.


The hearing was a three-ring circus from my point of view. A pastor that I’d only met once at my son’s preschool, claimed to have been over to our home for dinner many times and that my husband was a good father. At first, I was in shock. How could a pastor perjure himself like that? Then I realized that my manipulative spouse probably had invited the pastor over after I left and performed the caring Dad routine I’d seen him act out in front of company for years. Then the judge asked me if I had ever made a report to social services. No, I hadn’t. I kept telling myself that there was no abuse, only a “misunderstanding,” or an anger “problem,”or a lack of proper learning “situation.” Who was I to decide what was abusive. I thought that was the judge’s job. So I did the only thing that I could, just told the unvarnished truth as straightforwardly and as simply as I could. Repeating what he said and saying aloud a few of the things that he’d done that made me concerned about the safety of our children.


I was convinced that I had ruined the chance to protect our children. Especially, when his lawyer announced to the judge that my husband and I were in the middle of divorce proceedings and made it seem like I was out to malign my husband due to my anger over the divorce. I couldn’t believe that she was lying. Divorce papers had been served in the courtroom maybe twenty minutes ago. They hadn’t known that I’d decided on divorce proceedings (in the secret hope that it would bring him to the point of being willing to receive much needed help so that our marriage and family could be saved). I wasn’t a vindictive wife. I still loved my husband. Leaving our home to keep the children safe had been the hardest thing I’d ever done. If he hadn’t choked our five year old right in front of my eyes, I’d still have been at home, trying my best to live up to my wedding vows.


After I was already sure the judge would deny the restraining order, my husband announced that he was attending a batterer’s course voluntarily and that he’d made a call to social services himself. I couldn’t understand why he would mention it and weaken his case. But the judge and both lawyers retreated to the back chamber to call social services. When they returned, the judge announced that nothing had been reported that constituted a crime of any sort. I was dumb-founded. Since when was choking a child considered normal parenting?


The judge told me that now was the time to tell her anything that I thought she needed to know to make a fair ruling. In desperation, I told more about what life at our home had been like. I shared about the threats he made regularly (words I’d thought I’d never tell another soul). I pleaded for the safety of our children.


I thought the judge wasn’t getting anything I was saying when she asked me about myself. What did the bruises he’d given me or the threats or the trapping have to do with our children? I was an adult, not a helpless child. I’d never been beaten. She seemed to be getting way off track. I answered truthfully but with an increasing sense of hopelessness. Then she asked my husband questions. He sounded so smooth, so confident, as I listened to him spin lies. I began realizing then how many lies he’d told me during the years. His lies were so convincing. I would believe him, if I hadn’t been there to see very different things. He combined bits of truth with bits of fiction. It was fascinating in a horrid way.


To my utter amazement, the judge turned our temporary restraining order into a permanent restraining order and gave me instructions to report any violations to the police. It hadn’t occurred to me that he could just violate it whenever he felt like it. I knew then that he would violate it (which he did). I wondered what the point had been. What good was this piece of paper when he could ignore it at will? Why had the safehouse encouraged me to get a restraining order? The kids might have been safer without one. Now he’d be angry and ready to punish me. I knew that without any doubts.
The lawyer was happy on the way back to her office but I was full of dread. I asked her what good the order would do if he retaliated by violating it. She seemed totally surprised at my lack of joy. She told me that if he was foolish enough to ignore the order then I was to report it to the police. My panic grew. What good would that do if one of my children was badly injured, or worse?


It was my first introduction to the system. My head was spinning and my heart aching. I so wanted to keep my children safe and it didn’t feel like the law had much to offer me after all.


In retrospect, I had a very positive experience with the legal system, with social services, and with the shelters and safehouses over the next couple of years. I received lots of valuable help at a time when I had become pretty helpless and hopeless. But at the time it was a confusing labyrinth full of strangers who I never knew whether to trust or not. I felt betrayed and shocked multiple more times before I no longer needed their assistance.


If you are a victim who is entering the maze of the system, take heart. The civil servants and law enforcement are mostly good people who really do care. If you run into some who are jaded, don’t give up. Keep speaking truth and keep seeking help. If you don’t know who to trust, accept that as normal. Of course you’re no longer trusting—abuse is a major violation of trust. Hang in there. God truly is the final judge no matter what happens on earth, take some comfort in that. Keep telling the truth, someone will hear you.


If you are a member of the system, try to remember how depleted and beat down a victim is by the time she or he is desperate enough to ask for help. Try to remember how new the workings of the courts and the state are to a victim and take the time to explain everything. Know that it takes tremendous fear and the birth of courage to buck against the abuser who has held all the relationship power for so long. The person across from your desk may look like a frozen rabbit, but she or he will grow stronger through the very process of questioning the abuser’s perspective of reality. You have the power to help in ways that surpass what you think you’re offering. Hang in there. Your career can be so discouraging as you watch victims waver and make false starts—but for every victim who makes it away from abuse permanently there is a whole family tree that is rescued.


Justice can seem so unattainable but let’s keep on doing our best. Freedom is birthed only when we are willing to fight for justice.

Recovering What Was Lost

By Tanya Warrington

Recovery.  A popular word for those recovering from substance abuse, and a very appropriate word for those of us who are reclaiming what was lost from being abused. Abuse destroys so much. The abuser rips away our safety, throws aside our dignity, and pummels our self-worth. He or she intentionally takes without giving because it helps him or her get what they want, increasing his or her sense of power and pleasure. I’ve done lots of study on why abusers do what they do, but it is still difficult to understand with my heart. I just can’t fathom ever wanting to do to another the things that have been done to me. I doubt you can either. Thank goodness, our healing journey of recovering what was taken away from us does not require us to fully understand the abuser.

Each person’s recovery is unique but there are some parts of it that we all must walk through. Before we can get very far, we must acknowledge the pain and damage that we carry inside even though we’d rather not.  We’re good at shoving that pain out of sight and ignoring it. At least we think we are. But others around us still see the pain they see it when we eat too much to comfort ourselves, or we work excessive hours, or we spend more money than we have. They can see our pain in the way we are so reluctant to trust others or in the ways we try to be invisible or in the way hide behind baggy clothes. Or for some of us, we give ourselves away by the way we try to control everyone and everything so that we won’t feel powerless again, or the way we wear provocative clothing and hang around dangerous people to prove that we are the ones choosing our plight, or the way we start arguments with our abuser to get abuse out of the way for this week or day.

The pain is frightening. It feels overwhelming. If you look at it, it feels like it will be your undoing—that you’ll never stop crying or raging, or maybe both. For years, it literally felt as if my world would come to an end if I opened my Pandora’s Box of pain. I eventually opened that box anyway because the pain of continuing as I was became as big as the pain shoved away. I became willing to see where new ways would take me because the old ways weren’t serving me well. In hindsight, it is funny to see that indeed my world did end, sort of. My world of feeling worthless and trapped ended. My world of living in constant fear ended. My world of feeling helpless and hopeless ended.  And I am the better for it. Facing the memories that horrified me released me from my prison and enabled me to begin creating a world that was far better.

After the initial trauma of acknowledging what happened to you there comes a period of counting the cost. What was lost in the abuse? For all of us did indeed lose important things that we would like to recover. At first, denial and minimization try to convince us that nothing is missing or that it didn’t matter much anyway. But don’t be fooled. Yes, it hurts but it is important to see the damage. If your home was burglarized and ransacked, you would be asked to examine your home and identify what damage was done and which items were stolen. If you refused, then no one could help you to search for the lost items or to help you fix the damage. So you take a deep breath and you begin to look around. Just as burglars tend to take jewelry, money, and electronics, so too there is a list of items that abusers tend to steal. Upon examination you will probably notice that your general trust of humanity is gone. Now people are potential threats, possible abusers in hiding. The world that used to feel like a generally safe place doesn’t feel safe anymore; it feels unsafe. Your image of yourself is changed. You look in the mirror now and see someone who is too weak to prevent abuse, too dumb to recognize abusers, too foolish to earn safety. Or if not these descriptors, then some other unattractive quality is seen to be at fault. By the very nature of abuse, victims struggle with feeling guilty and responsible for the crimes committed against themselves.  It isn’t logical to the mind, but it is reality to the heart. And so we must do an inventory of our warped perceptions that point to what is missing.

Looking at what was stolen isn’t fun, but it is part of a new beginning. We discover that we can’t get was taken back from the abuser. Just as so many house burglaries and investigations do not return the original belongings. But that is not the end of the story. In real life, life goes on after the burglary. Sometimes so slowly, at first, but then, eventually, returning to normal, or more accurately a new normal. New items are purchased to replace the stolen items. New locks or gates or security systems are installed to cut down on the likelihood of a repeat performance.  All this is done not by the thief, but by the one who was stolen from. Just so, the abused one is responsible for replacing what was lost and securing boundaries to protect her or his own safety in the future. It is our job to give ourselves the good things that we lost or that our parents never even helped us have in the first place. Even people who haven’t been abused must do this work, just not as intensely and not as pervasively as an abuse victim. It can help to remember that when self-pity threatens to bog us down. We are not alone. Others have to work on their interpersonal boundaries, others need to consciously build up their self-esteem, and others need to consider safety issues. We can do the work of recovering what was lost.

Along the way, the choices we make as we go about replacing what was lost bring joy.  Living in this very moment joy. Discovering that we can make wise decisions joy. We’re growing and discovering new things that we like type of joy. Just as the burglarized victim might upgrade her sound system after a burglary and wonder why she hadn’t done so years ago is blessed, so too we can make upgrade choices that pay us back in joy for years to come. We can choose better things than those that were lost. We can choose realistic expectations with joy-filled hopes. We can choose an honest evaluation of ourselves at the present and we can choose to practice behaviors that will help us to become someone better, someone we like better. We can choose to rid our lives of abusive relationships and we can choose to fill our lives with supportive, loving relationships. We can choose so many good things for ourselves once we start choosing and find out what possibilities exist.

Healing isn’t an easy journey. Recovery is not a smooth flat road. It is bumpy and hilly. But it is more than doable. Recovery is truly possible. I know it to be true because I’ve been recovering and I’ve met many other courageous women and men who are recovering too.

If you’re already in the process of recovering, keep on going fellow sojourner. If you’ve been feeling stuck, take hope in knowing that you are not alone. Others walk in your same path. Also remember that help is always available. You can seek professional counseling or you can attend a recovery meeting or support group in your community or on the internet. If you realize that you’ve been the victim of abuse but hadn’t begun recovering, be encouraged. Just reading this article can be part of recovery. Just admitting that you were abused is part of recovery. Be strengthened and keep on trudging. There are many good books you can read, trustworthy people you can share your story with, and many available resources. You can recover.

Tanya Warrington is the author of the blog Dazzling Wings.

Releasing Shame

By Tanya Warrington

A Sesame Street book taught me a revolutionary principle when my children were young. As I read the often requested book to my kids, it's truth sunk into my soul. The book's title, Everyone Makes Mistakessaid it all. Big Bird had a rough day of blunders, including pulling down a long line of freshly cleaned laundry down onto the ground.

In my childhood, I would have been sweating and worrying big time if I did something like that. Most likely I would have paced, feeling frenzy and panic, debating with myself what I should do. I would have thought of going in and making a confession and bravely bearing whatever the consequences were. I would have thought about running off to a friends and behaving as if I knew nothing about the situation. I surely would have felt like running. I hated how small and helpless I felt under my mom's fury that was sometimes icy and silent and other times quite loud with yelling and punctuated by spanking or yanking. I would consider the possibility of confessing to my dad, because sometimes he seemed nice, but most of the time he seemed very gruff and angry in a very controlled way, and he had a way of making me feel utterly stupid.

And then there was the secret that I tried to keep even to myself. The horrible incest that tore me apart and felt like it would kill me. My dad was the one who did those things to me. So I avoided my dad when I could and felt relief when he did something nice or when he was distant and unapproachable.

The options just weren't pretty in my non-picture book life. But I was a good girl. What sense of self I had was tied up in trying to please my parents and earn their affection. I was never good enough but I kept on trying anyway. So, I would have told the truth. I would have faced consequences, feeling brave inside and proving it by trying to suppress the tears that threatened to spill. I would have felt like a failure. I would have been "ashamed of myself," just as my mom chastised me to be so many times. I would have felt so small and worthless--because I messed up and did something wrong, again, despite good intentions.

But in the Sesame Street book, Big Bird doesn't hear, "Shame on you!" No, he didn't. He heard life-giving acceptance of our common human condition, even though he was a bird. He was told over and over, "Everyone makes mistakes" and was allowed to fix the results of his mistakes. As I recall, he even re-washed the laundry with the kind help of an adult.

My children loved the book and so did I, after I wrestled through my old memories that were so contrary to the simple picture book. One day when I apologized to my daughter about missing an important date on the calendar, she smiled at me and said, "It's okay, Mom, everyone makes mistakes." Such a gift she gave me! I felt like weeping, but I gave her a smile and said, "You're right! We all make mistakes sometimes, don't we."

I wonder how many readers of this post have battled with shame. Misplaced shame is a common result from abuse. We feel deep shame over small things and feel absolutely buried under shame when we make mistakes that hurt others. And we feel shame that is really beyond description over the abuse that we did not initiate and could not control. We felt and continue to feel the shame that the abuser refuses to feel.

Once we are free from abuse, it takes time to let go of shame. Time to show kindness to ourselves when we truly do make a mistake. Time to refuse shame when it really belongs to the abusive person(s) of our memories. Healing takes time, but it does happen when we allow it. Our Lord is powerful, good, and kind in his ways and he is ready to give us a big, gentle hug as He wipes away our stress with an understanding smile. "It's okay. Every human on the planet makes mistakes. Share your pain and confusion with Me, I'll comfort you and help you sort things out."

We don't have to keep carrying shame. Jesus can take it away and leave us with peace and gratefulness. One memory at a time, one day at a time, we can walk with Him and release the shame.

Courage

By Tanya Warrington

Today I want to salute all those women, men, teenagers and children who have had the courage to tell about their abuse. Courage. It takes bravery to do what you thought you could never do.

The first time that I was told that I was courageous--I thought the other person was crazy. At that point, I felt fear in huge heaping doses. I had driven away from my home with my three children in a desperate effort to keep my children safe from my abusive spouse. I felt panicked. I was in the grips of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), but no one would label until a couple of months later my intense fear that haunted me both in my waking and sleeping hours.

I didn’t feel brave at all.

I had thought that I was brave when I endured abuse and didn’t cry. That type of courage I had learned as a preschooler when my dad sexually assaulted me and told me “big girls don’t cry.” I thought I was brave when I kept horrible secrets deep down inside, because I didn’t want to be responsible for “killing” mother by telling her things she could not bear to hear. I thought I was brave when I kept my life somewhat together when a teenage boyfriend raped me when I was 17. I thought I was brave when I wouldn’t let my husband see my pain, because he fed off signs of pain or weakness. I put up a strong, feel nothing, say nothing front…until the day I understood that my children were in danger because of their father’s worsening “anger problem.”

Now, years later, I understand the courage the friend saw in me. I see it now in other courageous individuals. It takes tremendous courage to believe that there is a better way of living and to risk everything you have and that you know in order to seek that different, abuse-free life. 

Bravery is necessary to leave all that is familiar and plunge into an unknown future. 

Guts are essential to reveal the buried secrets. 

Tenacity is needed, holding onto what feels like a tiny edge, while feeling waves of fear and pain in the aftershock of embarking on the road of truth.

Coping, ever coping, while feeling totally weak and exposed as you ask for help from strangers at shelters or counseling offices or in an emergency room. 

The pain feels like more than you can survive. The reality that you told yourself could not be--is the ugly truth. And facing the truth of abuse can’t be done with anything less than courage.

So, to all of you who have faced the unbearable, I say well done. No matter where you are on the journey of healing, I see the courage in you. Bravo! Bravo! You are making it. You are taking steps toward a better future. You are learning new ways. You are doing things you didn’t think you could do. 

You are like the shaking child at the top of the high dive who finally jumps off and raises to the top of the water to hear the sound of the pool patrons clapping. That kid was terrified, but did it anyway. Others saw the fear and then the courage. They saw and they clapped.  If you and I were in the same room right now, you’d see a big smile on my face and my hands clapping for you.

Focusing on Our Children

by Tanya T. Warrington

Children need help recovering from an abusive home. The issues of abuse are mind-bending and soul-numbing for adults—let alone children. Regardless of whether the children have been directly abused by one parent, or whether they witnessed one parent abuse another, their thinking about the world and themselves has changed. 

It is easy to assume that young children do not know about the abuse, but children know more about what is going on in a home than parents tend to think. When I left my abusive spouse I was amazed to learn when my seven year old daughter confessed hiding behind the couch listening to her father’s threats and wondering if she should call 9-1-1. It was a burden too big for a child’s small shoulders but it was her reality.

I, like most abuse survivors, thought that it imperative to remain married “for the children’s sake.” Divorce is traumatizing to kids and I wanted them spared from the ordeal. But while I hung on with all my strength to my unhealthy marriage my children were witnessing abuse and suffering direct abuse as well. Divorce is not more traumatizing than abuse.  Divorce is the beginning of hope for children who are suffering from abuse. It signals loud and clear that the abuse wasn't okay and that they will be protected from it. Divorce is challenging but it offers a chance for healing to begin in their lives. Ending the daily trauma of abuse allows them to process the abuse in a safe environment. It gives children the opportunity to experience a healthier way of life while they are still developing intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually.

It is easy to provide an abuse-free home? No. It takes hard work. Abuse leaves its scars on how we think and behave. Abuse trauma is a cruel master that doesn’t let go of our emotions and thoughts without a fight. But it can be done. Healing from abuse takes commitment and a willingness to try new ways. Counseling for both the parent and the children helps the new family unit see, at a faster rate, what former family dynamics need to be changed. Play therapists, art therapists, and trained EMDR therapists can be especially helpful to children who are recovering from abuse. Do not assume that therapy is out of the question due to lack of money. Many churches, federal agencies, and individual counselors offer reduced price counseling for low income families.

There are other community resources that can assist families as well. In addition to individual counseling, my children and I fondly remember a parenting class offered by Lutheran Family Services. While I received instruction and could talk with other parents about my parenting challenges, my children played games and created art projects that were designed to raise their self-esteem and to teach positive family communication. Through the local domestic violence organization, my children had more fun play and craft time while I attended education classes and support group time. If you make healing from abuse a family priority, you will find organizations ready to help you and your children.

General advice for divorcing parents instructs divorcing parents to avoid putting children in the middle by keeping all comments about the other parent positive and showing a united parenting front. Very wise counsel. But, from experience, I also urge parents not to lie or cover up abuse experiences in an attempt to keep everything positive. A child can handle truthful answers stated in simple, direct ways better than they can handle more lies and denial.  It is enough, indeed, it is healing for the parent to keep her or his responses focused on the child’s needs. The child needs to know that they are finally safe and that the parent who removed them from abuse is dependable and trustworthy. 

I’ve found that keeping my tone of voice calm and empathetic helps the child to accept difficult truths.  The child will lead the process if you allow him or her. Let the child be the initiator of conversations about the other parent and then respond truthfully and graciously. For example, when the child wonders why his other parent was abusive, you can say, “I don’t know why. Something inside of him is broken.  No matter what we ever said or did, we could never fix him.” Then wait quietly to see what the child wants to say or ask next. If the child is pensive, you can gently ask something like, “Did it ever seem to you like if we could just be nicer or quieter that he wouldn’t have raged at us?” 

The goal is to help the child verbalize how they are looking at things and help reassure them. Children from non-abusive homes fear that divorce is somehow their fault. It is the same, but I believe even worse, for children who heard the other parent accusing them or their other parent of being the sole cause of his/her problems. You can’t change the past, but you can help your child to understand the past and free them to live a happier life in the present and in the future. You will navigate your way through many short, but very important, conversations, if you focus on responding to the child’s fears and other emotions (not on how you feel when they talk about the other parent).

The younger the child is at the time of the divorce, the more you will see him or her playing abuse scenarios. Let them play, as long as she/he is not injuring themselves or another. Play is a major processing tool. Understand that all play is not a precise re-creation of abuse. The emotions are real, the rest may mostly be imagination recreating and releasing painful emotions such as helplessness, anger, fear, sorrow, etc. And of course, some play is nothing more than play.

Being single and recovering from abuse is a huge load all by itself without adding any of the stress of helping children to recover too. I know. I’ve been there. When you feel overwhelmed, try focusing on the future rewards. Making healing a top priority for you and your children will change the futures of your children, grandchildren, and great grand children. Seek help. Don’t try to do it all alone. Build the life you’ve dreamed of—a life where family members respect one another, where problems are solved, and where both children and adults can enjoy life. The days of tip-toeing around an abusive person are ending for you and your children. Create fun family memories. Savor the preciousness of each of your children. Pursue healing. You and your children will be so glad that you did.

Holiday Strategy

By Tanya Warrington

Holidays can be fun, but they also generate stress with the extra activities, the entertaining, and the extra expenses. For victims of domestic violence of any kind (verbal, emotional, physical or sexual) the holidays can be extra tough.

What does one do with bad holiday memories in the season that suggests that everyone should be happy and share in joyful family events? How do you handle it? What can you do when you feel more like crying than celebrating?

These are real and painful questions. There is pressure to have a Rockwell image Christmas with lots of warm family togetherness—but it isn’t always the way things really are. Sometimes old memories blot out the present.

I believe we can improve our holidays even while we are engaged in the process of healing from abuse. We can take actions, such as any of the following suggestions:

1. Take a Break
If you can, give yourself the gift of a break from counseling until after the holidays. If you are in crisis, then keep on going and reward yourself for attending. Go to a park or take a hike or visit an art museum. Do whichever calms you.

2. Get your Heart Pumping
Include a time most days to exercise. It will release endorphins that will lift your mood. Plus, as an added bonus, it will help your body burn those calories from holiday sweets.

3. Write Freely
Use your journal when old memories come up. Honor your feelings by recording them. Let your writing be uncensored. Journaling can help your process your thoughts and release your emotions all at the same time.

4. Find Fellowship
Share with a trusted person what you are going through. Let another see your pain. It really will help. Absorb the kindness, understanding, and caring that you receive. Let it sink in. Allow yourself to be comforted in your pain, knowing that talking and being heard will bring you further along in your healing.

5. Create Fun
Make time for your hobby or watch comedy movies. Doing something you enjoy will refresh and strengthen you. Do not consider this a waste of time—it isn’t. Don’t save it for last all the time—sometimes play first makes work happen at a more efficient pace.

May your holidays include restorative moments. May God help you to feel His presence during the season of celebrating the good news that Jesus Christ lived, died, and rose up to live again so that we might be reconciled to God. Hallelujah!

Do healthy things, dear Reader, it will reap so many benefits that will reap so many benefits that will encourage your heart. Let’s give Jesus our hearts and our healing process this holiday season.

Gender Issue of Abuse

By Tanya Warrington

It saddens me when people hate a gender because of the painful abuse they have endured in the past. Abuse is horrible, but it is not limited to only one of the two genders. Men have abused women, men, girls and boys. Women have abused all the same groups.

Women and men, let’s face our real enemy square on.

Sin drives abuse. Greed, lust, and desire for more power motivate abusers.

When I write about abuse I sometimes write about the victim as she and the abuser as he, because it is less cumbersome writing and because more women than men report being victims of abuse. I never want grammar, however, to confuse anyone about the nature of abuse. Consistently, sociologists report abuse demographics cross all boundaries of gender, age, nationality, economic status, sexual orientation, or religion.

Some researchers focus on the role patriarchal society has played in giving birth to the victimization of women.

I suppose anything that creates a power imbalance does increase the incidence of abuse. It makes sense. But patriarchal considerations only explain one type of abuse. We would need to explore all the other imbalances of power to have a complete picture of abuse. What about the power adults have over children, the power teens have over elementary aged children, the power caregivers have over their charges, or the power adult offspring have over elderly parents with health or mental issues? I suspect abuse occurs most frequently in situations in which one person naturally has greater power than the other. But it doesn’t explain all abuse.

What about a young child who abuses a peer? What about a teenager who date-rapes another teen? What about a younger child who abuses an older sibling? What about gangs abusing peer-age groups? What about wives abusing their larger husbands? What happens in matriarchal societies? Is there less abuse or more abuse in which women are the abusers? As long as we have sinful human beings interacting with other sinful human beings, abusers will abuse.

When we are hurt, the first question many of us ask is, “Why?” But knowing why, when it can be known, does not heal. Understanding why someone did it, does not fix the injuries. It doesn’t even help us to do the full work of forgiveness, not really. To forgive I must fully acknowledge how much I was hurt and how incapable the other is of fixing the damage they have done—why he or she did it doesn’t really make any difference in whether I can forgive. Understanding Hitler was insane should not short-cut the painful healing process for any concentration survivors.

For healing purposes, why someone abuses is much less important than how we deal with abuse. To heal we focus on acknowledging the effects of abuse and processing our emotions, beliefs, thoughts, and actions. We take responsibility for how we will live the rest of our lives, regardless of whether our abuser is male or female.

How an Abuser Tricks You with Apologies

By Tanya Warrington

I used to assume that any apology from my first husband was a sign that he was willing to change his behavior. As the apologies stacked up, I thought he was trying but just wasn't having much success. Regardless of my conscious thoughts, my emotions took each apology to mean that from now on there was a fresh start, signifying a significant new shift in commitment and behavior.

It didn't matter how optimistic I was, however. Near the very end of our relationship, I knew he'd never change-- not unless he sought help and then fully engaged in the healing process. When I went to a domestic violence shelter and began an educational class on abuse dynamics, he began participating in an abuser support group. My battered hopes soared once again. Maybe, this last apology had been real, maybe now he'd change. It turned out that he spent his sessions lying, recoloring what had happened to make himself look like the concerned, overconscientious guy who was married to a paranoid, oversensitive gal. He was committed to damage control, not to repentance and growth.

Perhaps you've been on a similar roller coaster ride that involves apologies. How do abusive people trick normal intelligence people (and even above average intelligence people) into believing insincere apologies? I'm not a psychiatrist, psychologist, or sociologist. I have no studies proving my ideas, but for what it's worth here are some things I've observed.

Abusive people regularly, even habitually, use our assumptions against us.

They know that we believe that we aren't "stupid enough" to be manipulated.

They know that we want to believe that our partner or parent is a good person.

They know that is the human tendency to assume that others are telling us the truth, especially if they are in our inner circle.

With these assumptions in place they have plenty of room to work on us. Following are some tricks of the trade.

1. They dangle a pretty lure:

• They make an apology a romantic production.They sweep us away with romance and chivalry. The beast is gone and the prince or princess of our dreams has arrived. Romantic words tickle our ears and romantic gestures abound. We are bedazzled and assured that the other one who hurt you isn't real, this kind person is his or her "true" self.
  
• They give great gifts. After "rough patches" or "tensions" have occurred, an amazing gift arrives. We feel touched. Who would spend such a lavish amount, if they didn't care?

2.They pull a bait and switch:

• They apologize for nothing in particular. In the same way that readers fill in a missing word when they are reading an article, we fill in the particulars for them.
• They apologize for the wrong thing. For example, if he bruised your arm he might say, "I'm so sorry that I was cranky earlier today."
• The apology includes the claim that he/she has been trying really hard to change.He or she looks at us with a very earnest face. We are wired to root for the hardworking underdog, so we react. Our actual experience is that nothing has changed, but he/she insists that he/she is doing much better really and why haven't you noticed. You haven't noticed because it isn't real. But you assume he/she would be telling the truth, so you beat yourself up for not noticing the improvement and being "so particular and hard-hearted."
• The apology is really about blaming someone else. We notice how quickly the apology turns to talking about work or other family, etc--but we discount it. We accept the half phrase of apology and try to catch up with the conversation. Or we object at the fast shift and he/she looks at us with shock and then hurt. How could we miss their sincere apologies? Don't we trust them and believe in them? The hook is set, we feel bad about doubting them or about not paying attention and we rush to reassure them.
  

3. They use a hook with a wicked barb:

• They apologize in a way that makes you feel bad. After you complain about verbal abuse, she might say, "I'm sorry. I know that you're really sensitive. I'm sorry I'm always making you mad by saying the wrong thing. I should know by now that I need to be extra careful about what I say around you." The barb is set, you forget about what she did and worry about what is wrong with you that she needs to be so careful.
• The apology is accompanied by emotional and/or physical withdrawal. The apology you are looking for after abuse is attached to the negative consequence of broken relationship for awhile. You feel an extra need for reassurance after the abuse, some sign that their is still love in this relationship and instead you get the opposite. It makes you wonder if hearing an apology for the abuse is worth it. You start wondering how you can make things better between you and them.
• The apology is full of sarcasm and accusation. But if you confront it, their face and tone instantly change. How could you think they were sarcastic? You have no idea how deeply sorrowful they are at the mere idea of hurting you. You wonder if you are going crazy.
• The apology is full of victim-ease. He just couldn't help himself. He is so damaged he just can't stand it. He is broken, so broken. He needs more of your love and help. He wants to do better, he really does. With your help maybe he can be a better man.

Any healthy person may be guilty of doing some of these things some of the time. But I believe that abusers turn these escapes from taking responsibility for themselves into an art form. Learning to observe your own reactions to apologies may be the fastest way to detect when the other party is up to something. Something that is not for your benefit. Consider trusting your gut more and implementing boundaries (such as "Let me think about this. Let's talk about it again tomorrow").

Overcoming Fear

by Tanya T. Warrington

One common denominator for all victims of violent crime is the acrid taste of fear that is left behind. We victims and former victims struggle with fears that it might happen again, that we don’t have the strength to carry on with normal living, and that in some way we are responsible for the trauma. 

We wrestle with or work hard to bury, frightening questions. If there is a God who loves me why didn’t He prevent this? If I am a good person why am I suffering such loss? If the other person is guilty why is he receiving such a light penalty? 

Then there are the self-judgments that fear generates.  If I’d only done one thing differently, then this horrible nightmare could have been averted—I am cursed. I should have known this was coming, all the signs were there—I am stupid.  If someone was okay with treating me this way, then there must be something wrong with me—I am defective.

We can try to deny fear and dismiss it. It doesn’t work for any length of time, no matter how many times we tell ourselves that we shouldn’t be afraid.

The trauma happened. It is normal to feel fear after a violent crime has ripped away our sense of security and brought us face to face with evil, with human sin run rampant.

So, what do we do with the fear that we never wanted? How do we process the betrayal(s) that shook us to our core? How do we move on without being crippled by the fear that hangs on to our heels?

To heal the deep wounds left on our heart, mind, soul, and body, we must face our fear. To move on after abuse, murder, kidnapping, rape, mugging, and other violent crimes we must face many fears, one at a time as they surface. 

As an incest survivor, date rape victim, former abused wife, and the parent of children who were sexually assaulted by another, I’ve had piles of fear to overcome. As a Christian, I turn to God for help with the massive task. With God’s help, I’ve learned how to face fears, how to accept them, how to analyze them, and how to take appropriate action in response. 

Here are steps that I take that might help you as you free yourself from that heap of fear that hinders wholeness and peace in your life. The perpetrator’s wrong and unjust actions brought the fears, but you are the one who can deal with your fears and grow in the process. Following are steps that I have found helpful in prevailing over fear:

1. Ask God to help you honestly face your fears.
2. Acknowledge each fear whenever it arises. I am frightened that_______________.
3. Write down the fear in a journal, say it aloud, or talk to a trusted friend about your fear.
4. Explore what the fear is telling you. Pray for wisdom so you can analyze the fear realistically. Are there current dangers that need to be addressed by seeking help from others, by taking precautionary steps, or by trying a new way of doing something? Are there emotions that need to be accepted and processed?
5. Let the fear go. I mentally place the fear in God’s capable hands. God invites us to cast all our anxieties upon Him because He cares for us (1Peter 5:7). I consider fear a heavy burden and I’ve learned that God is willing and able to take care of it.
6. Ask God for the courage to continue doing what is right and good, without letting any other fears stop you. Practice making decisions about how you want to live and then take actions that line up with those desires.

Expect fears to continue to resurface. Healing from trauma is a process, one that takes far longer than we would like. I’ve found that when fears resurface, dealing with them happens quicker and less painfully than the previous time. Progress is made. Healing happens in a deeper layer. My character is shaped. My life becomes more full and rewarding. 

God is an expert at healing and we can trust Him and re-learn to trust ourselves through the healing process.