Tag: abuse

Lessons from a Fire: Lesson 3 – Grieving What Was Lost

My last two blog posts shared connections I saw between a fire at a local bank and recovering from sexual abuse. The first showed how setting up boundaries is essential to rebuilding in safety. The second explored the dangers hiding within the walls. Today I’m going to move from the bank fire to something a little more personal—a fire at our home.

We were jolted awake by pounding on our front door. Jumping out of bed and running down the hallway, my husband yelled over his shoulder, “Call 911—the garage is on fire!” From our bedroom, I saw an orange glow filling the window at the end of the hallway, a stark contrast to the night sky. I stumbled to the phone, but just as I got there, Doug hollered up the stairs, “Never mind. They’re here.”

It was a police officer who had been pounding on the door. The newspaper delivery boy (remember those?) saw the fire and called 911. I was thankful for the young entrepreneur making his rounds, tossing newspapers on porches before sunrise. Fire trucks rolled up and started dousing the flames. The backyard filled with first responders, onlookers, and possibly the arsonist. We found out from the police that it was arson season. At the change of seasons, the arsonists come out. And they like to hang out and watch the devastation. I never knew.

Fortunately, our garage was at the back of the property, safely away from house. It was actually three structures meshed together over 100 years. The oldest was a chicken coop, then a storage shed, and finally a garage. We used the entire structure for storage. It was full: projects we were working on, kids’ outdoor toys, tools—you name it, it was stored there.

And that was the problem. So much stuff. By the time the fire was completely out, the garage and its contents had been reduced to ash, mangled metal, and unidentifiable melted stuff. The insurance company was happy to reimburse us for the value of everything we lost. All we had to do was figure out what was lost and the replacement cost for it—before googling was a thing.

First, we had to remember or identify all that was lost. Sifting through the remains, some items were obvious and some were not. A melted red and yellow lump stumped us for a short time. Then we remembered: the Little Tikes car. There were antique tools that just needed to be cleaned up. But other antiques, including a set of French doors we were refinishing, were destroyed.

The research began. We lived in an area saturated with antique stores. I visited several of them, asking about the value of the things we had lost. Then I browsed the local Sears Hardware store to price all the tools, ladders, gardening supplies, and other items we could remember were inside the garage. The insurance company would only pay one time, so anything we had forgotten to claim could not be claimed later. As the years went by, and we needed a particular item but couldn’t find it, we realized it was probably in the garage.

The connection to rebuilding after sexual abuse is that it is necessary to recognize what was lost. We may even have to make a list. That list might include childhood innocence, trust, safety, relationships, self-worth, and more. Grieving the things that were lost is necessary. But we don’t want to stay in the ashes. After acknowledging what was lost, it’s time to rebuild.

Over time, flashbacks or memories of abuse may surface. I still get those, 45 years after my abuse ended. I believe God brings to mind past abuses when we are ready to work through them. Unlike the insurance company’s one-time payout, we can continue to work through the memories and effects of abuse for as long as it takes.

For our garage, my husband designed the new garage and did most of the rebuilding himself, with some help from friends. The police never found the arsonist, so justice was never served in that way. Likewise, most abusers are never charged with a crime or brought to justice, but that doesn’t mean we are stuck with a pile of ashes. After the fire, we removed the ashes and rebuilt something better than the hodgepodge of structures that was there before.

Survivors of abuse can do the same with the help of friends, support groups, counselors, and God himself. He is the master designer and builder. The life he can rebuild from the ashes of abuse may be more beautiful than if the abuse hadn’t happened. But it takes work. Set up boundaries to rebuild from a place of safety. Recognize the harmful effects of abuse. Grieve what was lost. And trust God to create beauty from ashes.

And provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor. Isaiah 61:3 NIV

If I can help in your rebuilding, please contact me.

Lessons from a Fire: Lesson 2 – Danger from Within

Lessons from a Fire: Lesson 2 – Danger from Within

Two weeks ago, I shared parallels between a fire destroying a local bank and sexual abuse. The first lesson was about setting up boundaries to start rebuilding from a place of safety. You can read that blog here. The parallels didn’t stop with the boundaries. Today’s lesson is on the danger that no one could see.

The day of the fire, customers and employees came and went without a clue that there was something dangerous going on within the walls of the bank. It wasn’t someone planning a heist or a disgruntled employee about to explode. It was an electrical short, literally within the walls.

This branch looked no different than any other. Everything seemed completely normal, with no cause for alarm. But just hours later, the wailing of alarms pierced the air. Three fire companies raced to the scene. Witnesses described flickering hues of bright orange as flames engulfed the lobby. Thick black smoke billowed skyward. Vinyl siding dripped on the outside, insulation sparked inside, baskets of promotional pens melted into white mounds.

Once the fire was doused, the extent of the damage could be assessed. The building was a total loss. It would have to be torn down and rebuilt. The investigation found that faulty wiring caused the fire. It was an electrical problem that had been festering probably from the time the bank was built several years earlier. It finally got to a point that a spark triggered a fire within the walls, destroying the entire building.

Again, I thought of the devastation of sexual abuse. Abuse victims are among us everywhere we go, yet we can’t tell they are survivors of something so devastating. They look like everybody else in our circle. They smile, they raise their kids, they go to work, they attend church, they cheer for their home teams, they go to the beach for vacation. They seem just like you. Maybe they are you.

But maybe something has been smoldering inside them, unknown to anyone else. That was me. No one knew I had suffered sexual abuse until my abuser was arrested a decade later. People thought I was just a quiet, introverted child. Really, though, fear and shame paralyzed me.

 Survivors can live a lifetime with something smoldering under the surface. Every now and then, they squelch a small fire, and no one ever knows about it. Other survivors barely make it through the day without a complete meltdown. They succumb to triggers that send them into a tailspin of disaster. They try to hide the damage, but eventually that short circuit will shake them to their foundations.

Like the bank, they may need to tear things down to safely rebuild what was lost. There’s a process of removing the damage left by shame, fear, anger, mistrust, and hopelessness. It starts with talking about what happened with someone safe. It takes time to process what happened and how it affected them. But with a strong foundation of safety and support, they can rebuild with confidence.

There’s no point in pretending the abuse didn’t happen or didn’t cause any damage. Imagine if the bank had done that—just continued business as usual, ignoring the damage the fire caused. They probably wouldn’t have stayed in business very long. A support group is a great place to start repairing the damage. Survivors can share their deepest struggles with others who can empathize with them and begin peeling away the layers of damage.

The bank hired a professional to rebuild their building. They had the blueprints and ability to remake the bank building exactly as it was before. Survivors are in even better hands because God is in the business of healing and restoration. Even if there is no support group or counselor around you, God is always with you. You can trust him with all the damage abuse caused. He already knows what’s been going on inside of you that no one else can see. He knows what triggers you, and he knows the plans he has for you. He won’t leave you living in brokenness. He has a plan to build your life into something strong and beautiful.

I will restore to you the years the swarming locust has eaten (or the fire has burned or the abuse has stolen). This promise of God in Joel 2:25 was my foundation as I began the healing process. And God has been faithful to his promises. He walked with me through the fire of abuse. He took away my shame and fear and replaced them with hope. He made me stronger, more compassionate, and more resilient than I would have been without the abuse and the work it took to overcome it. He more than restored the years lost to abuse. And he will do that for all who put their trust in him.

Look for (at least) one more lesson from the fire in another week or two.

Lessons from a Fire – Lesson 1: Safety First!

A fire tore through a local bank building just over a year ago. The lobby was destroyed. Remnants of black smoke clung to the stone facade above the boarded-up doors and windows. Clearly, there was structural damage to the drive-thru, and large pieces of fascia curled away from the building like peeling paint. Over the next few weeks, a salvage company demolished the rest of the building and leveled the ground around it. The burned-out business put up signs saying they were rebuilding. Several months passed with no evidence of rebuilding. But then a construction company’s billboard-sized sign appeared, announcing the rebuilding project was underway.

This time, evidence of rebuilding appeared. Heavy equipment was parked on the property. Dirt was pushed around. But what stood out to me was that barricades were set up. One of the first steps in rebuilding was making the project safe. A big part of that safety plan was to keep out those who might cause more harm.

As an abuse survivor, those barricades were a visual reminder of the need to set up boundaries while in the process of rebuilding what was lost. Many survivors have false guilt when they create space between themselves and those who might cause them harm. They know that some of those people don’t mean to cause harm, but their words or attitudes do just that. So, to rebuild their emotional health, they may need to erect some barricades and keep certain people out of their lives, at least for a time.

The barricades on the bank building remained until the construction was just about completed. They were in place until all the structural work was done, and just the finish work on the inside was left. But it occurred to me that the inside still has a barricade in the form of a vault. Very few people who enter the bank will be allowed access to the vault. It’s not for everyone, just those with the right clearances. Survivors should make note of that too. There will always be parts of their life or story that are not for everyone, just the most trusted people in their lives. And that’s okay. It’s not just okay, it’s necessary.

Most abusers are people who were trusted. Being harmed by someone you trusted is as damaging to a person as that fire was to the bank. Like the rebuilding of the bank, survivors need to do the work of removing the damaged areas and preparing their hearts to rebuild trust. Rebuilding trust takes time.

Start with the barricades. They allow you to rebuild from a place of safety. The first steps might be with a counselor, pastor, or trusted friend. It might be in a support group. It needs to be with people who won’t do more harm. Over time, you will rebuild trust and be able to take down some of the barricades because you’ll feel safe without them. In the process of rebuilding, you’ll become more resilient. Even if someone harmful shows up in your life, it doesn’t mean that what you’ve rebuilt will come crashing down. You will have learned that other people don’t control you or your emotions—a big step in the rebuilding process.

Eventually, you’ll feel that the barricades can come down, except that vault. The keys to that are only for certain individuals and God himself. He is the one who can be fully trusted with your heart and life. We will never fully understand the depth of his love and care for us. He promises he will fight for us, he will restore us, and he will bring us safely home. Even when we don’t feel safe or wonder if all that was lost to abuse can be restored, God will fulfill his promises, and we can rest safely in that.

After you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. 1 Peter 5:10 ESV.

An Old Message in New Ways (and free stuff)

My life has had some serious struggles. But God has used my experiences to help and encourage others. It’s a privilege to be able to serve others with what I’ve learned.

I spent the past week or so updating my website to better serve my audience. Those of you who have been subscribed to my blog will notice right away that it looks very different. I changed the cover photo to a sunset on Molasses Pond. I took that photo while sitting on the swing at our family cabin this spring. That spot, watching sunsets like the one pictured, is where I am most at peace in this world. That is why I wanted to feature it on my website. I hope when you visit my website, you feel the same peace taking in that view.

The other major change is a new page: Free Downloads. Click the Free Downloads tab on the home page, and you’ll find things I am offering for free to help you, your friends, your church or organization, or anyone who can use them. Right now, you’ll find three downloads, my article, “Keeping Children Safe: 5 Things Every Parent Can Do To Help Prevent Child Sexual Abuse,” a brochure based on that article, and a brochure titled Hope for Survivors.

The brochures can be used in information racks or family resource areas or as handouts in parenting classes and survivor groups or as an invitation to a workshop. There is room on the back to include your church or organization’s info. You can contact me using my website’s contact form to set up a prevention workshop or to speak at your event or to facilitate creating a child safety policy or any other way I can serve you.

Thirty-three years ago, when my abuse became public knowledge and I read 2 Corinthians 1, that God comforts us in our afflictions so that we can comfort others, my initial reaction was “no way.” I never wanted anyone to know my afflictions, certainly not the abuse. But I realized that the ugly things in our lives have purpose. What was I going to do with that? I had found freedom from my past. How could I not want to share that with others in the same situation? My reluctant answer was, “OK God, use me however you want.”

Here I am, all those years later, having talked about my abuse in large groups as well as one-on-one for over thirty years, trying hard to use technology to better spread my message. I am technologically challenged, so this has been a stretch for me. But in order to best serve others, I need to learn to use technology, and I am thankful for those around me who are willing to help me when I’m ready to throw my computer out the window.

I hope you or someone you know will be blessed with what I have to offer. Keep an eye out for more downloads in the future. If you have an idea you’d like to see, let me know. And please share them with anyone who could use them. Thank you!

A Safe World?

I spent the past few weeks working on issues surrounding Child Sexual Abuse (CSA) for two different organizations. While I welcome those opportunities, sometimes the burden of talking about the ugliness of CSA gets a bit heavy.

So, when I recently read at least half a dozen Facebook posts claiming “we never had to worry about our safety when we were kids. We could walk around our neighborhoods, ride our bikes, and play at the park until suppertime without fear,” I thought, Really? The thing is, I grew up in the same era, and I was not safe walking the three blocks to the park. And, even though they didn’t know it, neither were they.

As elementary-school-age kids, a friend and I would hurry home on winter afternoons, grab our ice skates, and head off to the ice rink at our local park. We usually walked from school to her house, then to my house, then to the rink, all within a few blocks of each other. Donning our snow pants and skates, we’d hit the ice and spend about two hours skating around the oval rink—trying new moves, jumping onto a “snap the whip” line, diving onto the ice just to see how far we could slide.

It was a great time with lots of laughter. At five o’clock it would be time to go home. We’d tread to the park entrance, feeling like our skates were still on our feet. Then we parted ways, she would go straight, and I would turn left to get home.

A sex offender lived across the street from the park. I don’t think my friend ever knew he was there. She probably walked past, still giddy from our skating adventures, feeling no fear. I would walk past with rising anxiety, hoping not to encounter him. With my heart pounding and eyes darting, happy thoughts of an afternoon of winter fun melted away.

Winter was a safer season than the others. Spring and Fall, he was more likely to be outside. I don’t know if he really enjoyed gardening and yard work that much, or if he was outside looking for kids (or victims) coming from or going to the park. Summer was the worst. He didn’t just hang out at his house. He spent a lot of time at the park’s swimming pool, trolling for victims.

No, the little girls at the park or walking by his house were not safe. Although, most of them never knew they were in danger. For some of us, our lives were forever damaged, a piece of childhood lost forever. And because of the silence, secrecy, and shame associated with CSA, most victims never told anyone what was happening. That is how non-victims can be ignorantly thankful they grew up when the world was a “safe place,” blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked in their neighborhoods and the fear and pain some of their closest friends endured.

So, did they really live in a world where kids could walk around their neighborhoods, ride their bikes, and stay out until suppertime without worrying about being harmed? Fortunately, for them, that was the world as they knew it. I wish it had been the same world for all of us.

The man who abused me died a few months ago. A known offender is dead—our world is a little safer. Or is it? There will always be another to take his place, shattering the safe world of select children. Offenders may never be caught, but they, too, are wrong if they think they are safe. God is just.

“Behold, at that time I will deal
    with all your oppressors.
And I will save the lame
    and gather the outcast,
and I will change their shame into praise
    and renown in all the earth.” Zephaniah 3:19 (ESV)

Centrally Speaking

This week’s blog post is a podcast. I know…it’s so 21st century of me. Rest easy, it wasn’t my idea. My good friend, Dr. Drake Williams at Central Schwenkfelder Church invited me to be a guest on their podcast.

This aired on WNPV last week. I pray that it will be helpful to other victims and survivors. Feel free to share it. Thank you, Drake and Central, for inviting me and for your support and concern for victims of abuse.