Tag Archives: divorce

“He who justifies the wicked and he who condemns the righteous, both of them alike are an abomination to the Lord.”  Proverbs 17:15

It happens all the time.  A victim of abuse finds the courage to step out of the shadows of her shame and fear to reveal the truth about what has happened to her.  The trauma she has endured may be a result of molestation or rape, physical abuse, and/or verbal or emotional abuse.  She wants to believe that, once she shares her terrible secret, the people to whom she reaches out will hear her, validate her and comfort her.  But as horrible and shocking as it may seem, she may not receive what she needs.  For reasons that defy logic, many may rise to defend her perpetrator, and she may instead find herself shamed and shunned and even persecuted.  Such is the absurdity of the See-No-Evil Disconnect.    

But to the wicked God says, “What right have you to tell of My statutes and to take My covenant in your mouth?  For you hate discipline, and you cast My words behind you.  When you see a thief, you are pleased with him, and you associate with adulterers. You let your mouth loose in evil and your tongue frames deceit.”  Psalm 50:16-19

I have no reason to believe that abusers are believers.  I view them as spiritual actors operating with one foot in the world and the other in the church, exploiting the perception of faith for the sake of image and self-protection.  Abusers choose to cleverly assume a false identity, claiming a title that brings with it a presumption of innocence, legitimacy and authority.  Presented with their good side, the unsuspecting are inclined to presume that the profession of faith is genuine.  We generously choose to give a fellow “believer” the benefit of the doubt.  To be sure, the image of faith carries with it many benefits, a presumption of positive moral standing, of good will and intent, of respectability.

In her book, “The Emotionally Destructive Marriage,” author Leslie Vernick writes, “It’s crucial that you not lose your empathy and compassion even in a destructive marriage… 

One of the things that kills empathy and compassion for someone we once felt love is the buildup of negative emotions, especially resentment.”[i] 

I must assert from the get-go my strong disagreement with Mrs. Vernick’s basic operating premise that our “positive” emotions are to be embraced while our “negative” emotions should essentially be squelched.

 “Transgression speaks to the ungodly within his heart; there is no fear of God before his eyes.  For it flatters him in his own eyes concerning the discovery of his iniquity and the hatred of it.  The words of his mouth are wickedness and deceit; He has ceased to be wise and to do good. He plans wickedness upon his bed; He sets himself on a path that is not good; He does not despise evil.”  Psalm 36:1

During a conversation with a young woman outside a local church, she began to timidly open up about how terrified she was to go home.  Try as she might, she simply could not hold herself together.  She began to tremble, the tears began to flow, and her voice broke as she shared that she was praying for clarity with regard to her relationship with her admittedly abusive husband.  I listened intently and then said as gently as I could, “I think those tears are providing you with all the clarity you need.”  And as the truth slowly began to sink in, she wiped her eyes and nodded in solemn agreement.

I have no idea how long she had been carrying that heavy burden, but I found it tragically ironic when I discovered that she was employed at that church.  I had to wonder how many people in her circle had been aware of her torment and whether those same people told her all the things she “just” needed to do to minister to her wayward husband and save their marriage.

Upon separating from my abusive husband, a whole new realm of emotions surfaced:  a constant fear of what new tactics my abuser might employ to torment me now that I was no longer within easy reach, fears with regard to the kind of future my children and I might face, and on top of it all there was the heartbreaking realization that some people whom I considered friends clearly could not accept the reality of what was going on my life.

Unfortunately, what might have been deemed simple ignorance was insufficient to enable me to dismiss some people’s responses to me.  It went much deeper than that.  It felt more as though that they simply refused to believe that something so penetratingly dark could have possibly invaded our lives.  Many came alongside to whisper, “There, there,” and pat me on the back and insist that things couldn’t be that bad.  Those ignorant or insensitive or foolish people only made things worse.