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What a clever sentence. It's use intrigues me since it has zillions of possibilities. At the moment it's tied in with Obama and the people who are fed up with his high spending sprees and a health care bill that is nonsensical. But I forsee a broader scope that needs to be addressed that we can tag with the above line.
60 billion people in America are sexual abuse survivors. Is that number big enough? Is it beyond your scope to even imagine? And the number, despite countless non profits and blogs that are working to end it or at least change the number, keeps rising. That means one in three women and one in six men are going to experience childhood sexual abuse. The mind boggles. That many people need an oasis in the midst of their lives. For the damage done by unrepaired childhood sexual abuse follows your entire life. And without proper treatment they are spiraling into a downward turn towards suicide, addiction to drugs, alcohol, sex, food, relationships , promiscuity, obesity, mental health problems, compulsive obsessive behavior, low self esteem, eating disorders, manic-depressive behavior, physical health problems and severe depression. That's a long list. Look around you. How many are buried in a life filled with one or more of these. Are you?
There is help available, lots of it. But does it work? Are you one of those who have spent so much money to try to get well, who have 12 stepped for years and are still having problems, who have gone to seminars, retreats, workshops with no avail, have spent a small fortune with therapy? Surely there is a solution out there that works.
There is! Take a look at
www.thelamplighters.org. See the movement I am hoping will one day be world wide. At the moment we have 41 chapters in six countries. It's a start. Take a look at REPAIR Your Life: A Program for Recovery From Incest & Childhood Sexual Abuse. It, and the children's version REPAIR For Kids can be seen on amazon.com. See the five star reviews. It is a model for recovery that WORKS! If you join or start a Lamplighter chapter near you and begin to work on REPAIRing the damage done to you (WHICH WAS NOT YOUR FAULT!!!). You too can have a motto of "If I'd have known life was going to turn out this good I would have started it sooner." That was me. I went from being married to my third abuser, suicidal, filled with despair, living part time in a women's shelter to being the happiest person I know.
CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?
August 9, 2009, 1:43 pm
I just returned last night from the Friday, August 7, Board of Director's meeting of the foundation Let Go, Let Peace Come In in Philadelphia, PA. Other than a lack of sleep from the night before (had to get up at 2:00 am to meet the shuttle that took me to the Phoenix airport) the trip was a huge success. I was amazingly impressed with the Foundation, the work it is trying to do and especially all of the other board me
August 9, 2009, 1:43 pm
I just returned last night from the Friday, August 7, Board of Director's meeting of the foundation Let Go, Let Peace Come In in Philadelphia, PA. Other than a lack of sleep from the night before (had to get up at 2:00 am to meet the shuttle that took me to the Phoenix airport) the trip was a huge success. I was amazingly impressed with the Foundation, the work it is trying to do and especially all of the other board members. Peter Pelullo, the man who started this foundation has taken on a nice size challenge. But the energy, the optimism,the knowledge and especially the great vibes in that room was like none I'd felt before. These people are pretty intense on achieving their goals and I am honored that they asked me to be with them. Pete is obviously dedicated and compassionate about his subject, making a difference in the lives of child sexual abuse survivors. If you haven't checked out their website yet it's at
www.letgoletpeacecomein.org/. And if you know of anyone that has this as a problem please ask them as well to take a look at this website. We are looking for people who want to send in their photo with a caption, tell their story or add an article. We welcome anyone who needs a place to go that is home away from home. This website is a wealth of hope and help.
mbers. Peter Pelullo, the man who started this foundation has taken on a nice size challenge. But the energy, the optimism,the knowledge and especially the great vibes in that room was like none I'd felt before. These people are pretty intense on achieving their goals and I am honored that they asked me to be with them. Pete is obviously dedicated and compassionate about his subject, making a difference in the lives of child sexual abuse survivors. If you haven't checked out their website yet it's at
www.letgoletpeacecomein.org/. And if you know of anyone that has this as a problem please ask them as well to take a look at this website. We are looking for people who want to send in their photo with a caption, tell their story or add an article. We welcome anyone who needs a place to go that is home away from home. This website is a wealth of hope and help.
I've recently been invited to serve on the Board of Directors of a foundation called Let Go,Let Peace Come In at
www.letgoletpeacecomein.org/ .
Their mission is: "To bring healing, support, and awareness to the hundreds of millions of adult childhood sexual abuse survivors and their families worldwide. We plan to enact change within the healthcare systems, political systems and societies by teaching and educating through the current technologies. We will weave our message of peace, hope, recoveyr and happiness into the fabric of these societies by integrating published materials with video, audio and Internet media throughout the world. And we will raise money for a non-profit fund to provide the financial assistance necessary to start survivors of childhood sexual abuse on the path to recovery, "one" survivor at a time."
They have carved out a large agenda for a social problem that is viewed more as a stigma, a mark of shame and discredit. Seeing this worldwide epidemic as a stigma is the largest challenge that must be overcome. Let Go, Let Peace wants to approach this problem in a different way. They are encouraging survivors to send a photo and a brief of their trauma. They are also asked to send in their story. But the most important gift they have to offer is providing financial assistance to those who need it to change their world from despair to joy. Can they do it? They have assembled for their Board Members a brain trust, people who mostly are survivors; not just survivors but people who will gladly come forth to tell their stories, members who will think deeply on solutions, on changing the numbers, people who have their own foundations and organizations and are joining forces with the others when they are all committed to one primary objective, to bring as many victims out of hiding to tell their stories and become healed survivors. They all know that the primary reason perpetrators get away with what the are doing is because they know their victims will not tell. We want to prove them wrong.
Having studied and written about childhood sexual abuse for many years my biggest question has always been why the silence? If that child who was sexually molested went to their parent , the police or their teacher and told them that someone had robbed them and taken every one of their belongings they would receive massive support, an immediate search for the thief and if found, a swift punishment for his crimes. This child could freely tell his friends and would receive an avalance of sympathy; his parents would surround him with love and protection. Yet if that same child had been raped, not only could he not tell anyone, the perpetrator would go free to find other victims, and the child would now be a target for other perpetrators to abuse them again. Most childhood sexual abuse victims are abused more than once, sometimes with multiple traumas. If he did try to tell someone he would whisper it, he would try to minimize it with words like, "I think it might have been my fault. He told me it was."
Why? Why this amazing secrecy, this dirty little word that our society is trying to eradicate. There are dozens, maybe hundreds of websites and non profit organizations working on child sexual abuse. There are blogs that will make you dizzy with information. Everyone is an expert. Everyone is going to be the ONE who puts its finger on the pulse of incest and child sexual abuse and develops the perfect program. And the numbers keep growing. If you were in a store shopping with dozens of other people and if all of a sudden each person who had been a victim turned red the store would be aglow with red people, more than you could count, as high as 1/3 of all the people. If you tagged all those who knew someone who had been abused with green, who were impacted in some way, like magic the entire shopping area would glow like a Christmas tree.
It saddens me. It terrifies me. It challenges me. I want for the Let Go, Let Peace Come In Foundation to make a huge difference in the world wide epidemic. I receive email every day from places all over the world wanting help. I receive email from people who have a family member they want to help. When I check the map on my StatCounter, which keeps track of people who visit my website at
www.thelamplighters.org, the map comes alive with red circles with pointers that open up to tell where they are from. I receive hits from countries I've never heard of, in areas where the red circles are so numerous they climb on top of each other, from states where the hits cover the entire state. I want somehow for the miracle of giving people the courage to start telling their stories. Others will come out of hiding to share their stories. I think of the words from the good witch in The Wizard of Oz, "Come out, come out where ever you are.........." I think of the time when I was telling my story to several women at a park in a small town in Nebraska and one of them said in a hushed whisper, "Why are you talking as if it wasn't your fault?" "It wasn't," I responded. "It wasn't?" By the time I left that young lady as well as several other came forward and told me their stories. We were all alike. We were all different. But what we mostly were, was Courageous.
Yes, that's all it takes. So those of you who want to come out of hiding, go to my website and click "Stand Up and Be Counted", list your name and location, then go to the website of Let Go and tell you story. I promise, you will be a courageous example to bring even more out of hiding. Just Do It!
(Please see the multiple five star reviews on amazon.com for my books
REPAIR Your Life: A Program for Recovery from Incest & Childhood Sexual Abuse and
REPAIR For Kids: A Children's Program for Recovery from Incest and Childhood Sexual Abuse. REPAIR For Toddlers and
It's Your Choice! Decisions That Will Change Your Life will be released by Loving Healing Press before the end of the year.)
www.letgoletpeacecomein.org
I am elated! We have a new Lamplighter Chapter in forming in Australia. That makes 41 Lamplighter Chapters in six countries. Take a look at our website at
www.thelamplighters.org. My goal is one day to have Lamplighter Chapters all over the world. The biggest problem is getting people to come out of hiding. And I know what that feels like. My father raped me when I was 13, setting off 5 years of sexual and physical abuse that didn't end until I ran away from home at the age of 18. Do you know what it's like to remember that the last time you saw your mother she was screaming, "Hit her again, hit her again" at my dad while he beat me to unconsciousness with a belt? I spent the next almost three decades telling people about the happy Catholic family we had. I spoke of kneeling in a circle in front of my mother while we said our nighttime prayers. I spoke of the nights when we sat next to the radio, munching on popcorn and listening to Gangbusters. At that time we lived in a small farming community, Petersburg, NE, a town I loved with a passion. I spoke of ice skating on the Beaver River, swimming in the Beaver River, of climbing trees out at Rae Creek, my notebook in my pocket, so I could write poetry about the abuse that was happening at home even as my mind denied that it was happening. Even when my doctor asked me many times over the years if my father had ever molested me I always said a vehement "No". Even after my father told me twice before he died of what he had done, I still denied it.
I locked it in a room in my mind that I dare not enter. If I ever opened that door, the flood of abuse I had suffered through would all come tumbling out. Husbands that were alcoholics, that beat me up, that cheated on me, two nervous breakdown after failed suicide attempts in my early twenties where I came to in a psychiatric ward, all of this and even worse horrors waited in that room. I didn't open it until I was in my mid-forties and began recovery. I was married to my third abuser by then and the therapist I began going to said his abuse was so bad that I would never survive it. Even then I didn't believe that what happened to me when I was thirteen and asleep in the lower bunk with my rosary in my hand had anything to do with my choice of mates, my insomnia, my obsessive compulsive behavior patters with men, promiscuous behavior, my low self esteem, multiple suicide attempts, emotional extremes and severe depression.
When I was in my mid thirties I was shopping in a department store. I saw a woman on the other side of the store that I thought was extremely attractive. I wished I looked like her. It made me angry that I was so homely and unattractive while she looked so good. It didn't seem fair. I finished my shopping and was headed for the entry of the store when I again saw the woman. Again the same resentment and anger surfaced. I stopped for a moment to look at her. My nose itched. I reached up to itch it. So did the woman on the other side of the store. I put my hand back at my side. So did she. How could this happen? I walked toward the woman and noticed she was walking towards me. Finally I stopped. So did the woman. I touched the mirror I'd been looking into. I raised my hand over my head. So did she. I touched the face in the mirror and was stunned. Was I really looking at me? I spent several minutes touching the mirror, touching my body and finally walked out of the store very confused. Did I really look like that? Even this experience did nothing to raise my low self esteem. It would be ten years before I entered recovery and even then, many years later before I recognized the real me.
While in the final years of my recovery I went to my father's grave four hours north of where I lived. I sat next to the concrete slab and cried till my eyes were swollen shut. I screamed and raged at him for what he had done to me. And not just to me. I had three daughters and found out while I was in recovery that my second husband had sexually molested the two older girls. My youngest daughter had been raped at gunpoint by a man in a ski mask who put the gun to her head afterwards and said he was going to kill her. Incest and child sexual abuse is multi-generational. Had I entered recovery before I had children I could have saved them. I placed all my pain, all my anguish on the concrete slab. Then, finally when I had vented everything I told my father, "If you loved me at all, if you want to atone for what you did to me you'll help me start a movement for recovery from incest and child sexual abuse. You'll help me to have that movement all over the world. If you want to make amends for what you did you'll help me to sell my words to people who have suffered as I have suffered, words that will help them heal. When you have done that, then I can forgive you."
Today I am the founder of a rapidly growing movement for recovery from incest and child sexual abuse. We have 41 chapters in six countries. Today I have sold two books on how to heal from sexual abuse. Both are based on a program called REPAIR. It contains everything I learned in recovery. REPAIR Your Life is for adults and REPAIR For Kids is for ages six to twelve. I am in the process of writing REPAIR For Toddlers and have completed another book called It's Your Choice! Decisions That Will Change Your Life. These last two have also been sold and will be released before the end of this year.
I recently read the following article from Huffington Post written by women and children's advocate and author, Cheryl Saban. The sentence, "Did you know that girls aged 15 to 19 years old account for 50% of victims of sexual abuse worldwide" jumped out at me. To read the complete article use the following link.
The title, "Thank Heaven for Little Girls" strikes a sad chord in my heart. Having been incested at the age of 13, beaten and raped many times in the following five years before running away from home and having spent the next almost twenty-five years married to three abusers, living part time in a women's shelter, hospitalized in a psychiatric ward twice for attempted suicide and date raped more times than I care to remember I can validate that there is an entire world out there that most people do not care to know about.
I gave a talk at a Lion's Club last year. Most of the audience were older and as I began speaking of what had happened to me and what I was trying to do to minimize this problem I realized that the majority of the people averted their faces from me. One man even stood up and turned his chair backwards to me before he sat back down. I was appalled and yet I understood. But I had to make an attempt to change their attitudes. When I asked them: "If you went home tonight and found that your house had been robbed, your jewels and computer had been stolen would you be angry; would you be calling the police, telling your neighbors, your family, your friends? Of course you would. Why not then would you do the same if it were your daughter, or the little girl across the street, or the teenager who babysits for you who had been robbed, robbed of their innocence, their future, their very mental, spiritual, emotional and even spiritual health?
We are talking about our future; the children of today are the adults of tomorrow, the adults who will be making decisions for us, running our country, our businesses. And yet, as they move through life they will be hemorrhaging inside and using their best attempt to hide it. They will be covered with shame and guilt and have no way or knowledge of how to rid themselves of the dark shadows that lurk in their mind.
They need help. Our world needs help. These are the innocent and harming the innocent is the cruelest, most vile act of all. What can you do? Check into The Lamplighters. Our website is at
www.thelamplighters.org. Whether you are a survivor or an advocate you can start a chapter. You can encourage children, young women and women of all ages to come out, come out wherever they are..........and tell their story. In telling their story they will be healing, helping and rehabilitating themselves to lead healthy lives. One day I want Lamplighters all over the world. Today there are 40 chapters in five countries. Let's make that 4,000 chapters in 50 countries. It's such a small thing to do, costs nothing and will give you a sense of purpose you never thought possible.
Encourage people who need help to get the book REPAIR Your Life: A Program for Recovery from Incest & Childhood Sexual Abuse which is for adults. For children ages six to twelve there is a book called REPAIR For Kids: A Children's Program for Recovery from Incest & Childhood Sexual Abuse. Before the end of the year there will be a REPAIR For Toddlers.......and yes, there are toddlers that have been violated
Help these children. Help the world to have healthy people running it. Get involved. Be an advocate
If you haven't yet seen it, your desire for good health as you grow older demands that you take a look at the Ace Study at http://www.cdc.gov/nccdphp/ACE/ It may save your life. . The ACE Study is an ongoing collaboration between the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and Kaiser Permanente. Led by Co-principal Investigators Robert F. Anda, MD, MS, and Vincent J. Felitti, MD, the ACE Study is perhaps the largest scientific research study of its kind, analyzing the relationship between multiple categories of childhood trauma (ACEs), and health and behavioral outcomes later in life.
In short, your physical, emotional, and mental good health are all tied together. If you experience a childhood trauma, which impacts your emotional and mental health, that trauma, left untreated, weakens your immune system leaving you vulnerable to serious, life-threatening health problems as you grow older. Obesity, COPD, Diabetes, neurological disorders, cardiovascular problems and even cancer can develop when you least expect it. If you get proper treatment for child abuse problems you can change that path.
When I say "proper" treatment I don't mean go to a therapist and all will be well. Not all therapists are created equal. What you need is either a child abuse specialist or someone who believes in returning to the scene of the crime. Your abuse must be talked about. Only in telling your story will you begin to lance the wound that your trauma brought. You must do this at as early an age as possible. The more time you give your wound to become infected the more vulnerable you are to diseases.
Lance that wound. It won't be easy. But compared to the health problems waiting for you if you don't, it will be easy. And I promise you, if you get on the right path towards total wellness, your life will change dramatically. When I started recovery I was married to my third abuser, suicidal, filled with despair and living part of the time in a woman's shelter. By the time I finished recovery my motto was: "If I'd known life waa going to turn out this good I would have started it sooner."
You too can have this as your motto. I strongly recommend three things: a therapist who is a child abuse specialist, a 12 step program and the REPAIR program. the book, REPAIR Your Life: A Program for Recovery from Incest & Childhood Sexual Abuse is available on Amazon.com. Buy it now, start working the program. I did and today I'm the happiest person I know.
I received the following email yesterday:
"I am a slave in Africa, I have been sexually abuse by my buyer for 5 yrs now, I am a young Girl of 19yrs of age I was sole out to slavery at the age of 14yrs. I don’t know what to do I tried running away a couple of times but I end up in police station and I am brought back to my boss again and my life becomes more harder and ever since then I stop running away and accepted my faith. I got in contact with the Computer through my Boss son who also sexes me when he comes back from university. I have gone to hospital many times for abortion taking there under instruction by my buyer am afraid of my womb. I learn about female human right via the paper and I want to contact you for help."
When I first read it I thought I was in the wrong century. Slaves? In 2090? Can't be. But it is. We are still trying to find this young lady. She didn't tell us exactly where she is so we've sent emails hoping for a response. So much help is needed. I'm trying to do something in my little corner of the world by looking for people to start Lamplighter chapters (we're at
www.thelamplighters.org) and marketing the book REPAIR Your Life. This young lady obviously needs help in a more personal way. And she's only one. This is a worldwide epidemic. I receive emails everyday from women in other countries who are struggling to escape a domestic violence situation and coming to terms with the reality of child sexual abuse and how it contributed to their current situation. The world needs to be educated more about this subject. Unfortunately, the children who need the most help at an early age are already victims of family perpetrators.
This morning I received an email from Care2 Action Alerts at
[email protected]. Their website is at
http://www.care2.com/go/z/e/AFKNs/zjwm/Ap_d4. They told of the devastating situation in the Democratic Republic of the Congo and are asking for people to sign a petition to ask President Obama appoint a special envoy to the DRC. The following is a description of what they are suffering.
"War crimes and severe human right abuses have lead to a grave humanitarian disaster. Rape is used as a tool of war, devastating communities. Woman and children are forced into labor for armed troops. Thousands of people are living in overcrowded camps waiting to go home, but after more than a decade of conflict no signs of safety or security have surfaced."
Sometimes we tend to forget how fortunate we are here in the United States. Most of us don't know what it's like to go without food, to be raped, to have no home, to be forced into labor for armed troops. The Lamplighters at
www.thelamplighters.org has now two Lamplighter chapters in Africa, one in Nigeria and one in Kenya. We are hoping one day to have Lamplighter chapters not only all over Africa to help with the sexual assault part of their suffering but to have Lamplighter chapters all over the world. Women who have experienced sexual assault need a safe place to go, a place where they can talk about what has happened to them, a place where they are surrounded by other women who have experienced the same thing.
The book REPAIR Your Life can make a difference in the life of anyone who has been sexually assaulted. It took me from being married to my third abuser, living part time in a women's shelter, suicidal and filled with despair to being the happiest person I know. When I finished the REPAIR program my motto was: "If I'd known life was going to turn out this good I would have started it sooner." Please spread the word about REPAIR. So many need it.
Please take a look at our website and if you know anyone who can start a Lamplighter chapter please have them email me at
[email protected] so I can email a Lamplighter Movement Facilitator's Guide to show how easy it is to start a chapter. It can change your life and the lives of those around you.
As if there weren't enough already, dealing with frustrations on the Internet is a HUGE challenge. I tried to do an RSS feed on a new blog I wrote from my Oprah Nation site to my amazon.com blog site and accidentally added all of the Oprah Nation blogs instead of just mine. This was good news for Oprah Nation but frustration for me as I've gone through a dozen or so back and forth emails with the people at amazon.com in an attempt to correct this error. Patience, positive thinking and persistance are the only tools I know for dealing with trials like this. I remember years ago when I was an Administrative Assistant and responsible for opening up our offices every morning I tried to unlock the door from the copy room that went into the secretarial staff room and it wouldn't work. I became more and more frustrated as I continued to insert the key, turn it and then invented all kinds of new cusswords when it wouldn't open. Finally, after going through this dance a dozen times I took a deep breath, calmed down, pictured myself opening the door with no problem. I then tried it again and it opened immediately. Now, if only I can only do the same with amazon.com.
This is a true story.
A woman left the office after working hours and saw a little child crying on the road. Feeling pity for the child, she went to ask what happened. The child said, 'I am lost. Can you take me home please?' Then the child gave her a slip of paper and tells the woman where the address is. The woman, being an average kind person who didn't suspect anything took the child there. And there when they arrived at the 'child's home', the kind hearted woman pressed the door bell and she was electrocuted as the bell was wired with high voltage, and fainted. The next day when she woke up, she found herself in an empty house up in the hills, naked. Condoms were all thrown around with semen flowing. There were at least about 20 condoms! She has not even seen her assailants. That's why nowadays crimes are targeted on kind people like her. Next time if the same situation occurs, never bring the child to the intended place.
If the child insists, then bring the child to the police station.
Lost children are best to sent to police stations. Please send this to all your female friends/colleagues, and your friends with girlfriends and friends with wives. It is better to receive this a thousand times than be a victim once!
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Here, we are providing a great tutorial on Connecting Your DV Camera To Your computer.
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Jane Austen Dickey
During the race for president there were several occasions in which statements of falsehood were presented to audiences, by the Republican candidates, with overtones that elicited violent responses. To say the least, I was appalled that people chosen to represent this great Nation would act so irresponsibly. While these statements might be said to be all in the context of a race for power; therefore can later be excused as partisan, the vile intents of others that were aroused does not just go away.
A UT football player has been expelled from the University's team for having put up on his Facebook page a highly inflammatory statement of invitation for violence toward Mr. Obama. This is only one incidence of racial displays that are fearful and dangerous. I personally think charges should be brought against this player.
Be it one ethnicity or another, we need to learn how to live in tolerance with one another. I know people of the same skin color as mine that I have to pray mightly to tolerate, and I do not believe that my dislike of that individual excuses me to threaten or debase that person. I am in no way perfect. There are those who dislike me, and in their minds they are justified in doing so. That is fine with me as long as they keep my name out of their mouths when they are speaking to others, and keep their hands off my person.
Having said that, most of us do not know how to behave toward others the way we desire others to treat us. (The golden rule!!) Because of that, those of us who know we have enemies, ought to carry ourselves in a way that will not bring unnessary attention to ourselves. We ought not to stir up the ire of those who are looking for an excuse to bring hurt or harm to us. I hope I don't sound preachy, but I have reasons I don't care to expose at present to express this concern.
Women especially need to be aware at all times where they are and who is around them. Try to be with someone especially at nighttime. If you believe in the power of prayer; pray daily for protection and listen for the inner voice to direct you and OBEY!!
Hate is a dark and ugly creature that will destroy others then turn and destroy those who entertain it.
If we must talk about one another, can we let it be in conversation with our Creator?
This year, I resolve to not resolve. How's that for doublespeak? So have I resolved or not?
Actually, I am certain I am not alone in this. Enough with the sincere but short-lived resolutions to do this or that. Better, I decided, some time ago, to keep a daily journal, a list of short-term and long-term things I want to do. More importantly, I measure my progress on a weekly and monthly basis.
This is working out very well. I also do not engage in self-torture by banging my head into the wall when something does not land squarely on the targets I set for myself. Further, I ask for, and receive, constructive comments (okay, critiques) from those whose judgment I value (not many, sorry to say).
Finally, I no longer offer unsolicited advice. I have found that advice is much more appreciated, and acted upon, when it is sought by those who value your opinions.
They call this "Black Friday."
Okay, I'll take that. The reference is to this being the day that retailers expect (or hope) to see their financial seesaw move from the "red" to the 'black.' I wish all the best. The predictions of doom and gloom are well-founded; however, I choose to focus on the ray of hope that is evident in what I am observing in America and around the world.
Even as we witness carnage in India; world chaos in other areas of our small planet, and turmoil in parts of our human family, there is hope. I am convinced that this hope springs, not only from the election of Barack Obama, but from the well-spring of hope that resides in all of us. What President-Elect Obama has done is stimulate, inspire, and resurrect that hope. Still, I caution against placing all our expectations on the shoulders of one person; we all have a responsibility to reach out and inspire.
So, is the glass half full or half empty? It depends on your point of view and your inner-GPS. Where are you located? While none of us are blessed to be positive and upbeat; forward-thinking, and inspired all the time, we either tend toward the positive or we lean toward the negative. I admit, sometimes it requires more than a casual thought, in order to be positive and encouraged. However, I have discovered that if I seek out (that's right. SEEK OUT) an opportunity to give; to inquire (of someone else's condition), and inspire them, I end up receiving more than I give. So, it is not only an altruistic pursuit--the giving--but one that yields personal benefit.
Therefore, go forth and seek to fill your already half-filled glass, bucket, barrel, or tank, if you prefer. Life at its longest is too short to wallow in self-pity and defeatism. I say this, not only to you, but to myself.
How's your glass?
These days, family members often reside in states as far apart as Main and Oregon.
Family blogs offer a fantastic way to stay in touch.
What about a photo of the new baby; wedding pics for those who could not attend, or who only have the pics they took; the kids school play performance; a graduation, or just a word of encouragement accompanied by photos and/or video?
Take advantage of this wonderful technology. Create a blog just for your family members, and no one else, if you choose. The tools are here.
You can create an events calendar; send messages to everyone in the group, and even more. Now there is no reason to not stay in touch, and you can do so anytime, day or night.
What are you waiting for?
Free vs Cost
I have long suspected that real value is only assigned to things we receive, when we pay for them in some meaningful way. It is not a question of what price is paid, but any price—something. Perhaps this is owed to the inherent human view that if something comes easily it cannot be of great value.
There are exceptions, of course. For example: You wake up on a Sunday morning and learn that you are the winner in a $100,000,000 California Lottery drawing. Of course, you would be excited and, if smart, hard to find. Weigh that against working hard for fifteen years and building a business into a multi-million dollar cash machine. You earn 100,000,000 dollars a year. Which circumstance would please you more? My guess is that you would not quibble over the result. Alright, perhaps this is not the best example. Be that as it may, you get the point.
So, if you are given a car, is it of less value to you than if you saved your hard-earned money and purchased it?
I am curious to know what others think about all this. Do you value things that come with no cost, or do you attach more value if you have to surrender some price? This can apply to many aspects of our lives.
Have your say!
Jane
The following is a reprint of my letter to then Senator Obama, now President-Elect.
The letter was sent in March, 2008, during the Primary Campaign:
March 19, 2008
Senator Barack Obama
P.O. Box 8102
Chicago, IL, 60680
Dear Senator,
Since the inception of your campaign for President, I have watched and witnessed, with pride and admiration, your growth and maturation as a statesman, not simply a politician. There can be little honest doubt of your sincerity, patriotism, love of family, God, and country.
I believe that, in the Divine order of things, free will notwithstanding, even at birth, we are imbued with purpose. It is a purpose that, if the heavens abide, we are disposed to someday acknowledge, and when acted upon, have others bear witness.
In the course of human history, few men or women are called upon to stand in the gap. Few are charged to be both the messenger and the vehicle of change; to be both the model and the artisan of hope; to be both composer and conductor, to toast the good of the past, while leading the way toward the future. Such is your fate, your blessing, your burden, and your challenge, taken now in concert with the active participation of us all.
And so, thanks. Thanks for hearing and heeding the summoning voices of the Ancients who have gone before, and who still cast a guiding light. Theirs are voices few can discern, and even fewer can or will answer.
As we go forward together, as a country, and as a world nation of human beings bound by remarkably similar desires and needs, rest easy. Rest easy in the knowledge that even your enemies will be humbled, though not silenced. Discordant voices will surely rise like weeds amongst bright leaves of grass. So be it. There will be the inevitable clouds and storms, but above it all the sun always shines. Always.
Please accept copies of my first, novel: “I Never Played Catch With My Father,” and my most recent novel; “A Family Gathering,” as expressions of my admiration and feeling of kinship with you, Michelle, Sasha, and Malia.
Sincerely,
Gene Cartwright
[email protected]
CORNVILLE
©2008 falcon creek publishing co.
Have Your Ever Seen A Novel In Progress?
Few ever get the opportunity to see a novel in progress.
Normally, authors are very secretive and vague about their works in progress. This author (secret for now) has agreed to permit us to take a peak.
While the author has yet to complete and edit the project, he or she is committed to same. Note that manuscripts are normally doublespace and have 1.25 inch left and right margins; those specs have been set aside here.
When you finish reading this excerpt, answer this question:
W
hat vivid fact, regarding style, stands out in this sample?
The sample pages below provide an opportunity to look over the should of the writer as the work proceeds.
We invite you to read and respond in the following manner:
QUESTIONS:
Should this novel be completed?
If yes, should it be given serious publishing consideration?
_______________________________________________
CHAPTER ONE
“Where you headed, stranger?”
“Houston.”
“Houston? How the hell you end up here, three miles from Cornville, tryin’ to get to Houston? You come off I-30 from towards Little Rock?”
“Yeah.”
“Texarkana woulda been your next city of any size. How you end up way out here in the country? You ‘bout a hundred miles off I-30. Can’t be by accident neither. Nobody comes down that road this far by accident, unless’n you from Mars. But then them is California plates I see on your car.”
“I like the countryside; I like driving. Road's not that bad...trees are nice and green...rolling landscape glimmering in the sunlight. Besides, what’s wrong with visiting Cornville? Probably a nice, quiet little town. How far am I from the city limits?”
____
“‘Town, not city. Ain't big enough to be called a city. Anyways, 'bout three mile or so, I reckon. You sure do assume a lot, though.
“What do you mean? Don’t top off my tank, okay? I never top off my gas tank. It’s not safe.”
“Sorry. Guess I was talking too much. Wuddn’t watchin' what I was doin'. I’m kinda surprised I had enough gas to fill up your tank. You pro’bly my last gas customer.”
“I see. You shutting down for the day? It’s only noon.”
“Naw, not for the day. Forever...shuttin' down forever. Can’t get no more gas. Been run outta’ b’iness. Let me get that windshield.”
“That’s alright. It’s not that dirty.”
“Nope. Gotta clean it, even if it don’t need cleanin.’ It’s part of the service. Nobody’s gonna say Cyrus Bender cheated on service. No sir. Even if it is my last day workin’ these damn pumps.”
“No problem.”
“How old are these pumps? Look like they were made in the thirties or forties. Anyway, why are you so surprised to see someone headed towards Cornville.”
“Ain’t surprised. Dumbfounded is more like it. Just look up and down that old beat up road. You see any cars comin’ or goin’? Do ya’? I’ll answer for ya’. No. Hell no! I reckon you the first customer I had in this station in two days. Oh, I get a few local folks comin' in for a dollar worth a’ gas, a pack a' Red Man Chewin’ tobacco and some home brew.”
“Home brew? As in White Lightning?”
____
“No. As in Home Brew—the pride of Cornville. I would say it made this place famous, but I’d be lyin.’ This place ain’t famous. Make it myself...out back. Pretty good stuff, too, even if I say so myself. I have to make it. Got no choice. No beer or liquor distributors bother bringing anything to Cornville anymore. Now you know shit’s real bad when you can’t even get beer delivered—not even that off-brand crap.”
“Sounds like Cornville is on its last leg.”
“I guess you could say that. You’d be partly right.”
“What happened?”
“Everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I’ll tell ya. Oh, that’ll be twenty-two dollars and seventeen cents cash...for the gas, not the answer to your question. Don’t take no credit cards or checks neither. Not that I don’t trust ya’ or nuthin.’ Anybody drivin’ a car like this oughta’ have a few dollars left.”
“That’s alright. Here’s twenty-five. Keep the change.”
“Wow. Thanks, stranger.”
“What did you mean everything happened?”
“Oh, yeah. Well...’bout two years ago, the Wal-Mart out on 142 shut down. It was the only real store left for about sixty miles. That was ‘bout the worst thing to happen here since the last mom and pop store closed in town—that was after Wal-Mart came in two years before that. ’Course nobody blamed Wal-Mart for that. Most everybody just died or moved away. Wuddn’t nobody left to make it worth keepin’ a big store like that open.”
“Who did you blame?”
“That’s easy. Miss Soriah Jones.”
“Who?”
“Miss Soriah,Jones—A pipe-smoking, gin drinking, tobacco chewin’, snuff dippin’, mustache shaving, most god-awful bitch ever put on a bra or strapped on a Tampax. She put a hex on the town.”
____
“A...what?”
“A hex...a damn curse. Cursed us all to hell. Said there wuddn’t gon’ be no good come to this town never, after she got done rainin’ down misery on every body who drew breath roun’ here.”
“Let me get this straight. You say the town was cursed by this.. this Soriah Jones and the place started dying?”
“Wuddn’t just the place. People started dying. Lot more than usual and under unusual circumstances, too. Been real sad. This used to be a real fine town. We even had a movie house right on the main street. I hear tell it was real nice inside.”
“That right?”
“Sure as you got a tan. The very next day after they emptied the Wal-Mart, ol’ Billy Joe Mumphrey stood in the middle of that concrete wasteland, that used to be the parking lot, and started blowin’ on that horn a’ his.”
“Okay. Let me get this right. This...this Billy Joe person stood in an empty Wal-Mart parking lot blowing on a horn?”
“Yeah, his alto saxophone. The one with the split reed and the peelin’ silver platin.’ Didn’t sound too good that day, on account Jojo needed fixin’.”
“Jojo?”
“His horn. He just stood out there blowin’ this real sad song. Stood out there for least a hour. Was rainin’, too. Billy Joe just stood there blowin. an’ blowin’ an’ blowin.’ I watched him from the warm comfort of ‘Ol Sam.”
“Sam.”
“Yep. My ‘65 Ford pickup sittin’ over there. That’s my baby. Wuddn’t but three or four other people there, as I recall. Truth is, I got a little moist in the eyes, on account of how sad the music was. Billy Joe had a real gift. Stroke stopped him from playin.’ Came up on him sudden like. I know that’s the way of strokes, but this was more sudden than a eye blink. Billy Joe was healthy as a horse before that. Can’t work his fingers anymore. He still tries, but he can’t get pass one or two notes 'fore his strength give out. By then, he's outta breath; veins in forehead look ready to pop; he turns all red and ever'thang.”
____
“Why did this...this lady put a curse on the town?”
“Lady? Lady my ass! You bein’ nice on account you don’t know her. That witch ain’t no lady. She’s a...a damn she-devil is what she is. Somebody shoulda’ put her outta her misery a hundred years ago.”
“Excuse me! A hundred years ago? What are you talking about?”
“Yeah. She claims to be a hundred and twenty. Gets around like she ain’t but seventy or eighty. Anyway, she got pissed off ‘cause nobody come to her husband’s funeral when he died.”
“How old was he?”
“Ninety, but that ain’t important. ‘Ol Jehru Jones was about the meanest ‘somebitch’ this side a’ hell, I reckon, ‘cept for Soriah. He died in his store, there in town. Got into an argument over change with some sixteen year-old Mex’can kid who’d been smokin’ weed or somethin,’ they say. Anyway, the kid slugged him side the head and ‘ol Jehru died right on the spot. Fell like a sack a’ flour.”
“Heart attack?”
“I reckon. No doctor ever looked at him. Funeral Man just sucked out his blood, slapped some baby powder on his ‘ol leather face and called it a day. Miss Soriah...well, she and some a’ her handymen buried him. While they were takin’ care of the funeral, everybody else was having a party on the other side o’ town at Quintero’s place. That was ‘bout a hour after somebody looted and burned J.J.’s store before he was even in the silo.”
“J.J.?”
“Yeah. Jehru Jones.”
“Wait a minute. You said something about a silo.”
“That’s where she buried him.”
____
“She buried him in a...silo.”
“Don’t ask why. Miss Soriah refused to bury him like regular folk and didn’t want to cremate him. So she put him in one of them empty silos on their place and pumped concrete in on him. That way she didn’t have to build a monument for him. He was the monument. And standin’ straight up, too.”
“Damn.”
“Damned is more like it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whole town’s been damned ever since. Like I told ya, she put a hex on this place. Lotta folk’s cattle come to dyin,’ crops failed, babies was still born, born without brains, brains outside ‘a heads, heads on backwards, heart attacks everywhere, folks goin’ plum crazy overnight right outta the blue. Still goin’ on, just not nearly as much. It was a hex alright. None of that happened before. Not like that. No sir. No way. She fixed us good—real good.”
“Sounds like a lot of wild voodoo talk.”
“Call it what you want. Yessir, you can call it whatever you want, but we know. We know exactly what it was.—This sure is a purty car. Musta cost a fortune. This one ‘a them Murcedes, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Red, too. I never drove a red car, myself. Always thought it drew too much attention. Never drove a car at all. Nuthin’ but trucks. See my Sam over there?”
“Nice truck.”
“Not really. I mean, it ain’t much to look at anymore. Can’t tell what color it is, can ya’? I think it used to be blue...maybe even dark green. After my mama died, I stopped washing it. Still love it, though. Excuse me, gottta get this spot on your windshield there. What cha pay for this?”
____
“Too much.”
“Like how much? I’m jus’ curious.”
“A little over ninety-five.”
“Ninety-five what? Ninety-five thousand dollars?”
“Yeah.”
“You shitin’ me? For this little piece a’ piss ant car you paid ninety-five thousand American dollars. You gotta be shitin’ me, man! You gotta...”
“That’s what it cost.”
“Damn! You must be one rich somebitch, no offense intended. You in the mob? Drug b’iness? A lawyer or somethin’?”
“None of the above.”
“Well, since you from California you must be a movie star. Sorry, I don’t recognize you. I ain’t never been to a movie.”
“I’m not a movie star, either.”
“Well, what the hell you do?”
“Look, are you almost finished?”
“You make movies? That’s it, ain’t it? You make movies. You lookin’ to make a movie ‘roun’ here? Are ya’? Can I be in your movie? I ain’t exactly handsome...not the leadin’ man type, but my face got character. That’s what my mama said, ‘fore she died. You think my face got character? Hey, you know Clint Eastwood? Don’t you think I favor him a little bit? I can sound like him, too. I can even do his walk. Wanna see? Wanna hear somethin'? Go ahead...make my day. How's that?”
“Are you about finished?”
_____
“Almost. Damn! You mind if I sit behind the wheel for a few tick tocks? I ain’t never been inside ‘a car cost that much. 'Course expensive leather like this may make my butt break out in a rash or somethin.’ It’ll give me somethin’ to tell my grandkids about. ‘Course I ain’t married yet. All the good lookin’ women done died or left Cornville. A few ugly one's left...and a lotta real ugly ones. Even the grim reaper don’t want them. I figure by the time I turn fifty in a couple a’ years, I shoulda’ found somebody to marry me. Anyway, you mind?”
“No, go on.”
“Thanks. I ain’t gon’ mess it up or nuthin’. If I do, I’ll detail it for ya’ for free.”
“Got a restroom?”
“Got one.”
“That’s all I need.”
“But it don’t work. A damn possum climbed in and died. Got stuck just past the bend in the bowl. His tail is 'bout the only thing you can see now. Just pee on the ground out back. Unless you gotta...”
“No. I’ll wait.”
“My butt ain’t never sat on leather like this. Man! I better get out before I ask if I can take it for a spin.”
“Good idea. Thanks for the service...and the conversation.”
“You still goin’ to Cornville?”
“Still going. After all you’ve told me I have to see it for myself.”
“I kinda figured you would. But if you don’t mind taking advice from a country hick, leave before sunset and keep an eye on this purty car. Ain't no cars in Reedville, 'cept for Soraiah's jeep. Evry'body just ride bicycles."
_____
“I would ask why, but...anyway, thanks for the advice. One thing, before I go: What’s with that big silver cross you have hanging from your neck. You a religious man?”
“No. Not really. I’m a bettin’ man. Like to have the odds in my favor, just in case them ‘Holy Rollers’ is right. My mama and daddy believed in God and all. They was deeply religious—sanctified and everything. They even laid on hands, used holy water, holy oil. Holy, holy, holy.”
“And you?”
“There’s pro'bly a God, I reckon. Way I see it, somebody had to create all this amazing stuff for man to screw up. Anyway, I figure if there is one, I’ll be on the right side. And if there ain’t, it don’t matter.”
“Makes sense, Cyrus.”
“Whoa! How you know my name?”
“You told me...when you were cleaning my windshield.”
“I did? Oh, well. Anyway, you be careful, stranger.”
“It’s David. My name’s David.”
“Hello. Pleased to meet you, David. Hey! You want a cross?”
“Cross?”
“Yeah, like this one. I got three more left inside. They cost ‘bout twenty dollars, but I’ll let ‘em go for ten.”
“No thank you.”
“Five. Five bucks, no tax. You can wear it inside your shirt. Put in your pocket.”
“No thanks. You take care.”
“You too. Goodbye, now. If anything happen—hope it won’t— but if it do, can I have your car?”
End of excerpt:
Feel free to comment.
Okay, I don't want to hear about the use of the now politically incorrect use of the word, midget. Get a life and go on.
My point: I have an unwavering belief in freedom of the press, let's establish that right off. And I do not want there to be any abridgment of that right, nor of the freedom of the press (some members) to make obvious assholes of themselves. I may be wrong, but it seems there are media types who are hoping for—even praying for—the President-Elect to stumble; to make some egregious mistake. The most minor issue is raised in sharp contrast (they try to suggest) to the so-called "No Drama Obama" moniker that surfaced and attached during the long campaign.
Of course we all know that the adage: "If it bleeds it leads" is true. While there are complaints, by some on the right, that the media, generally, have been "Obama Cheerleaders," it is true that we all have be "Cheerleaders" for our own individual and collective successes. We all have a vested interest in seeing that things are turned around in this country. Americans depend upon it, and the world depends upon that happening. More importantly, everyone must be on "suited up" and "on the field," to combine several metaphors. No one gets to sit in the grandstands nor "grandstand."
In our republic, it is crucial that the press remain vigilant. And with the enormous impact of the Internet, vis a vis our access to information, we, as a consuming public, must be vigilant and discriminating. We must keep the good stuf, as we see it, and put the garbage where it belong—at the curb.
Throughout my travels on the Internet I find sites dedicated to helping childhood sexual abuse survivors in the hundreds (maybe in the thousands, I haven't had time to check them all but would need to live to maybe 380 in order to do that) and keep wondering how many are helping and why do the stats keep climbing?? If I were starting out in recovery today I'd be so confused I'd want to quit before I started. In a way, only on a more minor scale, that's what almost happened when I actually was starting out way back in 1988. There were lots of books available especially Courage to Heal. Even though I couldn't afford it, with my hopes high, I bought a copy. It was so huge I didn't know where to start and despite trying to plow through it I don't remember anything in it that reached out and grabbed me. So when the Workbook came out I bought it as well. Now I had two books I was hoping would reach out and grab me. Neither did. Maybe it was me. Maybe I was so far down that I couldn't reach that high up. In addition, there were many other books, stories of people's personal journeys, books mostly by so many people who had Ph.D after their name. I was certain that surely people with credentials like that, if nothing else, would rescue me. Nothing worked. My despair deepened. My marital situation was so painful that I became even more suicidal than I'd been in my entire life (and that was a lot).
I decided to become my United Way volunteer at work and went to one of their meetings to learn who all they helped and why. When a woman from Alternatives to Domestic Violence started talking I felt my grief and shame overcome me so harshly that I felt as if I were drowning in a deep well of hopelessness. They were talking about me. I was an abuser. I must be an abuser; my husband told me I was. When he tried to rape me (several times a day) and I fought back, kicking and screaming, and locking myself in the bathroom door (which he tore down to drag me out and rape me anyway) I would scratch him and draw blood, hence proof that I was abusive. His contintual rapes were bringing flashbacks to my childhood of being raped by my father. I decided to meet with some women from Alternatives to Domestic Violence to "turn myself in", told them my story and was stunned to find out that not only was I not an abuser but I was being abused sexually, physically, mentally and emotionally. The shock drove me to my family doctor where I begged for stronger anti-depressants and sleeping pills. He gave me a sad look and said, "I've been asking you for years if your father ever sexually abused me and you always told me no. I no longer believe you. I'm sending you to a childhood sexual abuse specialist, Marci Taylor. I want you to get started."
God bless that doctor and especially God bless Marci Taylor. Today, after five years of recovery, which included working the REPAIR program that I created, I'm the happiest person I know. Today my motto is, "If I'd known life was going to turn out this good I would have started it sooner."
Please order the book, REPAIR Your Life and get started yourself. Don't spend a fortune going from book to book hoping you'll find one that will leap out and grab you. REPAIR will do that. Also, please check out our Lamplighter website at
www.thelamplighters.org and find or start a chapter near you.
I just returned from California where I stayed for 9 days to take care of a dear friend of 57 years who has recently been diagnosed with uterine cancer. What do you say to someone who has a death sentence hanging over their head? You pump optimism into their brain, you bombard them with solutions such as positive imaging, prayer etc. Sometimes you just sit quietly and let them talk; you let them cry. They are grieving for their own life. You hide your own tears. You walk this journey with your friend so that she doesn't have to be alone. But you will be thinking: "If only..............."
John Greenleaf Whittier wrote in his poem, Maud Muller: "For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: It might have been."
Cancer has stalked this family for many decades. When my friend was a young teenager she was sexually molested by her grandfather who lived with them. When she complained to her mother the response was, "Don't pay any attention to him. He's a dirty old man." Over the years my friend has ignored this painful time in her life. She grew up and married a cocaine addict who was a womanizer. After twenty-five years she found out he was having an affair with her brother's wife. It broke up 2 marriages. I tried to talk my friend into getting into CoDependents Anonymous with me. We went to one meeting. I walked out thinking, "How'd they find me?" My friend walked out thinking what a noble thing it was to be a codependent. Several years passed and she was diagnosed with breast cancer. I begged her to get in to recovery. She didn't think it was necessary. She survived for ten years unil now when uterine cancer has attacked her.
Think about this! In her family 4 of her 6 siblings either had cancer or died of cancer. In her mother's family all five siblings (females) of her mother either had cancer or died of cancer. Their mother died of cancer. That mother was married to the "dirty old man" that my friend was told to not pay any attention to. Chances are enormous that he got to all his daughters and that his daughters, not having gone into treatment, raised their children to be co-dependent or worse. Children of an untreated childhood sexual abuse victim stand a five times greater chance of being molested themselves.
I left my friend a copy of REPAIR Your Life and told her to get started. I pray that she will. Childhood sexual abuse is like a wound that becomes infected. If left untreated it will travel to all parts of your body and do damage. It must be lanced and then it must have ointment put on it's wound. This is the description of Recovery. This is what REPAIR Your Life will do for those who have an untreated wound from childhood sexual labuse. Buy a copy and get started. Look for a Lamplighter chapter in your area. If there is none, then start one. We need an army!
I read all of the Google Alerts I receive every day and get quite an education. One of the things I find most interesting is the problem people who have been sexually abused have in the idea of God playing a part in their recovery. If they are non-Christian, or atheists it's simple, God plays no part in their recovery. That doesn't necessarily make it easier for them and unfortunately, that doesn't leave them many other choices. The entire idea of going through a recovery program to get well from this epidemic disease is to turn it over to SOMEONE. It's obviously too heavy a burden to carry alone.
Twelve Step programs call that someone your "Higher Power." This, to me, is one of the best ways to describe that unknown, all knowing, creator/deliverer power. Is he energy? Is he an old man with a white beard? Is he a huge cloud with the sun coming out behind it? What is it/he? Ha! I bet no one can prove this for the benefit of a scientist the same way they could prove water falls from the sky. Guess what! That means we all get to make up a description of our own higher power/creator even if it's a blank space. Some people see the word "Christian", or "God", or "Church" or "Salvation" and cringe inside before they quickly click off to a more interesting site. You know what? The bottom line is getting well, recovering. If you had a wound on your leg and it was getting infected and you knew that if you didn't get it medically treated it might mean you'd lose your leg would you stop to ponder which hospital would be best to go to or would you just go.
So, the next time you see an article in a paper about a religious group that is trying to help people heal, check it out. You never know when that moment that's going to change your life for the better is here, right now. Take a chance! What have you got to lose? You can always go incognito (undercover atheist pretending to want to know more about God who actually finds out more about him and gets well.)
Good luck!
As a practicing Catholic I'm appalled at all the information coming out regarding sexual abuse in the church. My first thought was, "And this is only the priests. Wait until they find out about the nuns in the convent." I thought this because I have two friends who are either nuns or ex-nuns and they both said the sexual abuse in the convents almost drove them out of their mind.
What is the root cause of all of this? Is it the vow of chastity as so many think. Would telling the priests they can get married remove this problem? But then you open the door to other problems. Can they remain faithful? Having opened one door must we open another and another? Has anyone ever checked to see how many priests who violated a child had been abused themselves? That is no excuse but it does point out that we have priests that need to get suspended and begin a strong recovery program.
I have been a Catholic all my life, albeit I had a revolving door and termed myself a "recovering Catholic." There's a lot of us out there. But to put it in an old term, "You can't throw the baby out with the bathwater." There is so much good in Catholicism. Being raised in the Catholic Church brought me spiritual solace as I bonded with the Blessed Mother and our Lord. The rituals were soothing and brought me courage. Their core beliefs all made sense to me, especially the words of God or Jesus.
I had a lot of problems with the church laws, some of which were subsequently dropped. I often wondered what happened to the little old ladies who ate meat on Friday and died Saturday morning before going to confession. Now that that particular rule has been removed are they still in hell? And what of the babies in Limbo, another thing I never believed in. Now there's no more Limbo so where did they go?
All religions believe in a high power. All religions believe in a life after death. All religions believe in doing good and following a moral code. So all paths lead to God. We must not condemn the church, just their actions, just as we must not condemn the man, but condemn his actions. I've been spending time on the websites of the many archdiocese in America. Without fail they have all installed a "Safe Environment" section that explains what they want parishioners to do if they feel someone has been molested. Many of them apologized profusely for the harm that had been done. I was much gratified to see all of this and sent each one an email telling them about the Lamplighters and about the REPAIR books. They will need all the resources they can get.
But now, what of the other religions? Mormons are also a patriarchial society, one of the warning signs of child sexual abuse. I asked Tom, my husband if his Baptist religion was based on a patriarchal society. His answer was a resounding no. I have my work cut out for me. Thank God for the Internet!!
I get daily Google Alerts on anything to do with incest or child sexual abuse. Each day they contain a half dozen or more news stories about every kind of sexual abuse you could imagine and some you can't. Periodically I type key words into Google, Yahoo and Dogpile to see where my website, The Lamplighters is in the grand scheme of things. The number of websites that offer help for child sexual abuse survivors is mind boggling. They come in every way, shape and form; they come in blogs, in non-profit organizations, in home made websites from survivors who think they have found the answer and some who know they haven't but want you to look at them anyway.
I check statistics periodically. The numbers are not going down. Even with more people willing to come out of hiding there are many more who can't and won't. In my personal life of those I count my closest friends more than half are either victims or family members of victims, the forgotten victims, what I call collateral damage. And that's just the ones who are willing to talk. Why is there no significant improvement in this epidemic problem? It's my opinion that numbers are powerful. If we all united under one banner, The Lamplighters, we'd be able to fight better. As it is, bits and pieces are coming from here and there, scattered across the landscape as if thrown out by someone's hand hoping to make their mark. In my own private life I have many friends and family members who do not want me to talk about what happened. They don't understand. It's an uncomfortable subject and they don't want pictures in their heads showing fathers raping their daughters, brothers molesting their sisters. Of course not. I don't like to hear the word Afghanistan. My son is over there imbedded with some marines in the mountains near Pakistan. Everytime I hear that word my mind spills with pictures I can't bear to see. But Afghanistand and it's horror does exist and incest and child sexual abuse does exist. But should we put our head in the sand and pretend they don't? Would that get us anywhere?
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