I remember the days when his voice would boom behind me. Accusations bounced from wall to wall about my inadequate capabilities. He ultimately concluded I was a worthless wife. He shouted his conclusion in front of all the children. Sometimes I would see the terror and fear in my children’s eyes. How far would daddy go this time? Would he throw mommy into the wall again? Or would he cover her mouth and nose with his hand to shut her up causing her to gasp for air? Perhaps he exhaust his rage on big brother with brutal blows where ever they would land? Maybe he would choke big brother again. We never knew what his rage would bring from moment to moment, from day to day.For The Fainthearted spoke about how 'we all knew it was happening', and why don't people do something then? He speaks of the power of the church, and how they KNOW but don't move to action until pressured into it at times.
It has been over two years since I heard the insults screamed at me. Two long years since I saw my oldest child pinned to the floor receiving blows to the head and face. Over twenty four months since I had to worry about what kind of mood he was in when he came home and how to prevent the inevitable release of rage. The day-to-day abuse ended. Let me give you a picture of what life was like the day the abuse stopped.
The first few months after I turned the to courts the war began. I aroused a sleeping dragon. He will not rest until his fiery breath of revenge has charred my life. Anyone who has lived with domestic violence knows it is a cardinal sin to put your foot down with a batterer. But, I had to do it. The violence grew worse. There were death threats, scars, broken bones, and the need for physical therapy to recover from injuries. So, I asked the civil courts to restrain him. The outcome of involving the civil courts resulted in dread and fear.
I dreaded checking the mail. Almost every day I received notification of legal action advancing with great force. He filed for divorce. Eventually, he sought custody of the children. Ultimately, this war meant I could lose everything. Walking to the mail box became a horrifying experience. My chest would tighten, my palms would sweat. I would open the letters and feel as though I had been dealt a new kind of blow. Before, I asked him to leave I took the abuse in person. Now he had a new tool: the legal system. I dreaded checking the mail. Yes, I dreaded answering the door. Throughout that year, police officers arrived often delivering me one subpoena after another for my appearance in court. There were over thirty court hearings when I stopped counting. This left little time to care for the children or the farm that year. The result of the court process was dread, fear and horrific pain. The initial abuse was bad enough. The civil court experience felt worse then the abuse.
At a question and answer session, one of the students who had come from an urban working-class area said that what surprised him was that there was abuse in the homes of better off people. He said that when he was growing up everyone knew that there were homes where things went on, but they thought that such things only happened in poor areas.Art Against Abuse
If everyone knew that things went on in some homes, why did no-one do anything, or at least say something?
Child abuse seemed to be in a category with domestic violence as something that was common knowledge, but about which little was done. Domestic violence seemed to be accepted: call the police and they preferred not to get involved. Perhaps it was the difficulty in securing a prosecution, perhaps it was more the influence of the church which insisted that the State should not interfere in family life.
The questions that arise from the publication of the Ryan and the Murphy Reports in recent months run much deeper than the responsibility of the church for heinous crimes, they are questions about the nature of the society that allowed the churches to occupy such a position of power in Irish life, that allowed crime to be considered a private matter.
A true republic, a true res publica, a true public thing, would be an open society; there would be equality before the law and no special treatment for any interest group. An open society might not be perfect, but the culture of secrecy and legal privilege would not have been possible. The idea that someone responsible for the shielding of alleged paedophiles would have his future determined in a foreign state would be repugnant to republican principles. The subsidising of church activities with taxpayers’ money would be thought ridiculous.
A true Irish republic is only possible through a complete separation of church and state
For those that have a gift for art.Life, Part II talks about how her favorite song was 'uncomfortably numb' to My favorite line is "you are the hope when our hearts have hopelessly lost the way."
Please do join us in ART AGAINST ABUSE!!
I thought it would be Wonderful to have a place here where we all can show our SUPPORT and love to those who are going through abuse, or those that have gone through it and survived, or even our love to those loved ones and friends who have passed on...
please do join us!
Ive Fantastic friends here such great artists!
Art is made to express the heart and soul and I would love to invite all of you to show how you feel about domestic violence and abuse of any kind, raising awareness and sharing love by making your Art and showing your Love!
At the age of 41, I am beginning to comprehend how many years I wasted just surviving another day. It does make me sad at times, but it makes today all the more precious. It also makes the people in my life all the more precious. I believe the ability to love each other is God's greatest gift to us. He did not intend for us to be alone. If He did, He would have stopped creation with Adam.
I am so grateful for the people God has put into my life, regardless of how big or small my interactions with them are. I love them all. Really, I do. People fascinate me. Every one of them has a story. Some are difficult and tragic, but none are beyond hope. It is never too late to be a better person. I guess seeing A Christmas Carol twice in the past week has hammered that point home! Circumstances and other people may never change, but our hearts can.
My childhood was often difficult, I struggled with severe depression for nearly two decades and if you read my other blog, you know what my marriage was like. Those are circumstances I can't change. What I have changed is my inward focus. Depression kept me trapped within myself, obsessing over my perceived shortcomings. A Christ-centered life keeps the focus on Him and allows Him to mold me. When that happens, there is a natural death to self. My whole mindset changes and I realize I am here to serve and be a friend, regardless of how long we have known each other.
I have been born again in every sense of the word and I don't want to waste another minute not being fully alive. If you are struggling right now, know that there is hope. Life won't always be so dark, and this is coming from someone whose favorite song used to be "Comfortably Numb." Know what it is now? Wonderful, Merciful Savior! My favorite line is "you are the hope when our hearts have hopelessly lost the way." Nothing, absolutely nothing, is beyond His ability to heal.
Romans 8:38-39 "38For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
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