Sunday, September 26, 2010
Poems from the edge
My online buddy Strings, who's active in Bikers Against Child Abuse (BACA), has published several poems written by a victim of such abuse. You'll find them in two entries on his blog, here and here. They're pretty chilling, particularly the last one, which I'll reproduce here: but they tell a true story. This is what far too many young people have to go through. I've worked with some children who've been through this particular hell, and I can promise you, some of them never get over it. The scars run too deep.
What's even worse is to work as a prison chaplain, having to minister to the animals who commit such crimes, and restrain oneself from ripping their throats out in righteous fury at what they've done. Needless to say, they never (or almost never) admit culpability or responsibility. They're all about how the kids actually enjoyed it, and it was really, truly love, and people like me just don't understand . . . Some even try to legitimize their warped and twisted passions by setting up or supporting organizations such as NAMBLA.
As far as I'm concerned, Jesus' warning in Matthew 18:6 is as much as they have to hope for in the hereafter . . . and the sooner they get there to receive their promised reward, the better for the rest of us.
To illustrate the sickness and barbarity of such people, here's the poem "Every Night", by a victim. DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU'RE SQUEAMISH OR CAN'T FACE REALITY. It will break you. If you think you can handle it, click here to read it.
I applaud Strings and his buddies for what they're doing to help, and I invite all of my readers to support their efforts, and get involved with this and similar efforts to help those who are too young to help themselves. At the very least, say a prayer tonight for those who are still trapped in this hell on earth.
Peter
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2 comments:
Amen, there are some BAD people out there...
The first memories my wife has are of her father abusing her. She has no memory of third grade: too painful. She found deliverance from her memories through faith in Jesus. It's been a long road for us. I've learned to be sensitive to her perception: when she said that something I did reminded her of her dad, that was the last time it was done. We've learned a lot from each other. We just celebrated our 28th anniversary.
There is healing and there is life after. You don't have to let the past define you. Takes courage and a stout heart. My sis-n-law put up with it until she was 16, then bailed out into the fire. Hard life. She, too found Jesus to be the Healer He claims to be.
Both of these women can read a person quite well with just a glance. And I call them readers. From infancy, they lived by their wits, and had to judge who was a molester and who was safe. I am amazed at what they come up with, and their judgement is close to 90% correct.
I comment here on occasion, but I don't have permission to tell their stories, so I post as Anon.
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