Aroma

Several years ago I was reading a book written by a brilliant man by the name of Dan Allendar. The book is The Wounded Heart, and it addresses the healing of the soul for women who have been sexually abused. A friend of mine was dealing with this issue and I was reading it in support. I was struck by a passage that I cannot quote here as I do not know what has happened to my book, but the basic idea was this: When you live from a place of Truth and present it to others, you will either be an aroma of life or an aroma of death to others.

First of all, that is quite the place to live in! Second of all, what a raw moment in time!

I cannot claim to completely live my life from a position of truth, but it is my goal and my hope to live there as often as I can. But let me tell you, in the work I have now embarked on, that intense wrestling of the soul to choose life or to remain in a dark place is sometimes painfully visible.

It is the same basic story, though unique to each individual; some dark evil has been committed against them. Very frequently it is the crime of adults against children, hugely inappropriately carrying out sexual desires that ravage the souls of their victims. The little boy or girl will never be the same. Each will have to make large decisions as they mature that will determine just how damaging the abuse will be to their lives.

Shonda (name changed to protect identity) sat in the office, asking for help with her anger. She said she is tired of being so angry, that it is preventing her from achieving her goal of moving up from medium custody and into the general population. I asked her what she was so mad about. She told me that when she was 5 years of age, her 11 year old sister brought home her 14 year old gang member boyfriend. She doesn't know why she was left alone with him, but he got to her and molested her. She did not tell her mother, but she did tell her sister. Though her sister stopped seeing the boy, she did not offer compassion and sympathy to her sister. At this point Shonda chose to protect herself with hate and with aggression. By the time she was in middle school she was fighting. By the time she was supposed to be in highschool she was in and out of juvenile detention centers. And now here she sat in prison at the age of 21, serving an aggravated sentence and not being able to stay out of trouble while incarcerated. Her soul was tired. Fighting was no longer working for her. She wanted peace but didn't know how to attain it.

As we talked, she was able to express her sorrow with the loss of relationship with her sister. She was ready to forgive, to move forward, but had no idea how to begin. She did not know where her sister was, nor did she know how to reach her. Sadness and regret filled her eyes.

I broached the idea of forgiving her abuser. Her eyes hardened immediately. She stated "I cannot forgive him". I attempted to empathize with her about what happened to her. It's hard sometimes when you haven't experienced it yourself, and forgiveness has it's time and place. However, I encouraged her to consider forgiveness. I scheduled her for a follow up appointment.

The next time we met she was forthright. She stated "I tried, Miss, and I can't forgive him". I again explained to her how unforgiveness keeps the abuse tied to us, that it keeps the offense tied to our souls and therefore angry and bitter. I gave examples, I explained as simply as I could what it would be like for her to let this go and find peace. I saw her eyes begin to lighten ever so slightly. I had hope that she would understand, that she would choose to forgive. I explained that forgiveness is a choice rather than a feeling, and sometimes we have to work really hard at this choice, but forgive we must. Her eyes brightened a bit more. Then I sat quietly. She lowered her eyes for a few moments, then raised them again. The hardness had returned, resolved to hold her abuser accountable. "Miss, I can forgive my sister, but I can never forgive him! Never!". My heart went out to her. What a brutal thing to have happened to a 5 year old. There but for the grace of God go I! I did not judge her. But I sorrowed for her. I again encouraged her to keep trying to forgive. She left irritated, undoubtedly feeling like I was asking too much of her. And perhaps I was at this time and place. I hope that some day she will be able to forgive and move on in her life! The story isn't over.

It is so humbling to work with these women. I sit in my chair and I counsel. I tell them things that I'm not so sure I am willing to do myself. I hear myself encouraging them to forgive. Have I forgiven all the offenses in my life? I can think of a few incidents that still bring up anger, irritation, frustration. Will I choose to forgive? Will I this day choose life? Or will I continue to let my pride dictate my choices?

My hope and prayer is to be an aroma of life. Forgiveness must prevail! I've got some work to do.