I wrote this one way back in the beginning of my blogging adventure, in May of 2012. I didn’t know how to publicize it back then. I was looking for it yesterday, and decided to repost it and publicize it today. I am just as passionate about it now as I was five years ago. Maybe more.
This is a rant. I don’t care if anyone is offended by it.
I am SO offended by the pain, confusion, misery, and total dysfunction that results from children being exposed way too soon, way too graphically, to sexual behaviors. I am offended that children who aren’t even in their teens think they have to decided whether they are straight, gay, or “bi.” I am offended at the angst they suffer when they think they should already know about sex. When they tell me their friend asked them to “just try it,” like you would try a new flavor of ice cream.
I am offended when these children dissolve into tears in my office because they are, after all, still children. They have been taught everything they need to know about human sexuality except for the important things: Love, respect, godliness, commitment, consequences. I am offended that they have been hurt by someone they should have been able to trust; most child sexual abuse is at the hands of a trusted family member or close friend of the family. I am offended that these children are often told it must have been something they did to cause the abuse; I am offended that they are the ones who feel guilty, while the perpetrator just continues his behavior with not a twinge of conscience. I am offended that a woman told me she was a promiscuous four-year-old. Good grief.
I am offended by the man who told his wife that if he had known she’d been molested as a child, he wouldn’t have married her because she was impure. Not the creep who molested her (her older brother, by the way); it wasn’t his fault; she must have been asking for it.
I am offended that these victims of sexual abuse suffer flashbacks, nightmares, panic attacks, addictions, promiscuity, and self-harm; and yet they are sometimes told by other believers that they just need to get over it and move on with their lives.
I am offended that we have forgotten that Jesus said that anyone who harms one of of these little ones would do better to tie a very large stone around his neck and jump into a deep river.
I tell these hurting people that it was not their fault. I tell them that when someone touches you sexually, he is touching your soul. It changes you. It makes you have to deal with emotions and behaviors that no child is mature enough to understand. It causes terrible confusion and creates a huge sense of unworthiness in the heart of a victim. We process through what happened; we work together for healing and forgiveness. It’s hard, painful work. No one should try it at home alone.
When the person begins to heal and to understand that God never stopped loving her, there is a change in demeanor. Sometimes they’ll even let me hug them when they leave. Always, they cry. A lot.
Until we stop sweeping this horror under the carpet and offer help and healing to the victims, it will continue to grow like the plague it is. Parents, you cannot be too protective of your children. Sometimes the perpetrators are the kids they sit next to in school. Sometimes it’s the babysitter; the friendly old guy next door; an aunt, uncle, or grandparent. Take off the blinders. Talk with your children. Know where they are and who they are with. You are their protectors. Of course, often the parent is the perpetrator. There are just no words.
“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” II Chronicles 7:14.