Equality - Justice - Peace

I have been struggling to figure out what to write for a while now - since the end of December, in fact. Every time I sit down to sort out my feelings I end up furious and I slam my computer shut. If I'm alone, I cry, or yell, or kick my desk, or punch my pillow. Sometimes I meditate or pray; sometimes I just try to do something else until I calm down. I've been avoiding my own anger. Maybe it's time to stop.

Here's why I'm angry: Jyoti Singh Pandey.

Do you know her name? If you don't, you should. Maybe you know her as India's Daughter. Or maybe you know her as that girl who was gang raped on the bus in India, and who died of her injuries two weeks later. Or maybe you don't know who in the world she is, or why anyone would be angry about her.

I have a confession to make - I'm not just angry about Jyoti Singh Pandey. I am angry about Steubenville, Ohio. I am angry about Savannah Dietrich. I am angry about New Mexico's House Bill 206. I am angry about the Violence Against Women Act of 2012 which was stalled when Republicans balked at protecting Native American women, immigrants, and the LGBT community from violence.

I am angry for my friends who have been abused and harmed. I am angry for the women and men who are pressured by society not to come forward after they have been raped. I am angry for the soldiers who are shamed by their leaders and comrades after being raped or assaulted. I am angry for the children who suffer in silence because they are afraid to tell someone that they are being hurt by a family member or friend. I am angry for the LGBT people who have been viewed as prey and who are attacked simply because they have different expressions of gender or orientation. I am angry for myself, and angry at the people who decided it was fair and just for them to take what they wanted from me with no thought about the damage they did to my psyche and my soul.

For the past month, I've been trying to find a way to constructively deal with my anger. I have signed petitions, worked to raise awareness, and participated in two magazine interviews on the subject of sexual violence and the rape-friendly culture we live in. I have meditated, read books on healing, shame, and vulnerability. I have prayed endless prayers, asking God to change our world. Asking God why people are so cruel. Asking God how he can allow these things to happen. I have prayed that God would take away my anger.

I wanted peace. I wanted resolution. Instead, my rage grows. Maybe the answer is in the anger - maybe the rage itself is right. Shouldn't good people be angry when they see evil being committed? Shouldn't we be enraged when we hear about innocent women and men and children being abused? Shouldn't we be galled by inequality and injustice?

If everyone was angry, maybe things would change. If everyone felt this same anger that I feel, maybe instead of ignoring these issues or deeming them too controversial, we would all work together for justice. Maybe we would overturn a few tables in our cultural temples, and drive out those who are abusing the system for their own gain. Maybe. This is my hope - that each of us could be as incensed over injustice and inequality as every football fan is when the refs make a call in the other team's favor. That we could all spend as much time working for justice as we spend making up our fantasy football teams and talking about last night's game. This is about human rights, people! Wake up!

Equality. Justice. Peace. Aren't these things worth fighting for?

...let justice roll down like water, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. ~ Amos 5:24, NRSV

Rejecting Fear

The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.
~ Nelson Mandela

I am – quite understandably – afraid of my abuser. I have reason to be. After he hit me and threatened to kill me I suppose I’d be crazy not to fear. I’ve been told by multiple people that fear is a healthy reaction to the danger I’ve experienced. I understand this. I also understand that the extent of my numbness during his assaults was an indication of how terrible the emotional and psychological abuse he’d put me through actually was. Though I was afraid while he was screaming and throwing things, and though I felt fear while he was battering me and threatening me, and though I felt total revulsion during his sexual assaults, it was mild in comparison to the strength of the horror I feel when remembering those episodes. Escaping the situation and having distance from it has allowed for some healing, which has made me more able to understand my feelings and to truly experience the fear – fear for my physical and emotional safety, fear for my children, and fear for my life. Like anger, fear can be a powerful motivator. It can enable you to protect yourself. It certainly had that effect for me! But if we give fear free-reign over our lives, it becomes debilitating.

Let me describe the situation I’m currently in. Next Tuesday, I will have to sit in a courtroom and face my abuser. He and his lawyer will no doubt do everything they can to discredit me, to make me look like a liar, and to cause me pain. I dread this upcoming emotional abuse more than I can express. I am – admittedly – afraid of what’s going to happen. Yesterday, the dread was so strong that it was almost like a living creature inside my body. I felt as if there was something inside me, tearing at me, trying to break free. I was in a state of near-panic. I tried to pray but I couldn’t concentrate. I tried burying myself in other tasks but the fear kept bleeding through. Finally, last night at around 10, I received an email from my new love, in response to some comments expressing my anxiety that I had sent him earlier in the day. His first words were, “Breathe, Honey, it’ll be okay.” So I took a deep breath, and then another, and in slowing down to feel the air move into and out of my body, I was able to reconnect with my inmost calm. I was able to pray, and I was reminded of Revelation 1:17, which says in part, “Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last.”

There is such power in those words. Think of it. “The First and the Last.” He was there in the beginning. He will be there in the end. Everything that happens in between can be endured so much more easily when remembering those two points. God was with me when I was formed – he has been with me all my life. Even during the abuse, he was there, offering his comfort, bringing into my life people who helped me to understand my danger and conquer my apathy so that I could escape. He will be with me the day I die, no matter what the circumstances, and he will welcome me home when it is time for that journey. And most importantly right now, he will be with me in the courtroom on Tuesday when I face my abuser.

Why should I continue to fear? I don’t have to fight this battle alone. God is with me – and he has sent me supporters, a lover, and friends to shore me up. Yes, I have reason to be afraid of the man who hurt me and threatened my life. A certain amount of alarm is healthy and normal. But I will not allow it to debilitate me, to paralyze me, to keep me from telling the truth. I will not allow fear to rule me, to tyrannize over me the way my abuser did. I will not be defeated; I will conquer my fear. No matter what the outcome on Tuesday, I will be the victor, for my battle is against fear, and I will have overcome it.