The greatest of love and peace to you, too!
Sigh! I am not sure how to respond to you: to be thorough, it would require much more "detail" than I can give... than I want to give. But I will try, because to some degree I know this little girl. She is not all that unique. I won't go into it - no need and no benefit. But...
I spent long years of my life in pain. Deep emotional pain.I, too, spent the former part of my life in this way: pain. Pain caused... by others... over which I had NO control. Was it deep? You betcha! WAY too deep for me to go into here. Would I change any of it? In TRUTH? No. None of it. Why? Because I am what I am TODAY... because of what I experienced THEN. And what I am today, is, by my standards... quite okay. I also would not change it because I would have no "basis" with which to sympathize/ empathize with others. Had my life not been as it had, I would hear such stories and THINK I understood... but in truth, would not completely. And I would also not change it because I have learned that I am NOT the exception to the "norm"... me and my former pain... but the RULE of what is "normal" in this world. Trust me, there are WAY more of "us"... those who grew up WITH pain... than "them"... those who grew up without it.
I prayed for God to help me but he never came.I cannot say this. What I CAN say is that every time I thought I could NOT bear whatever it was one more time... I was given an "out". Always. Every time. Sometimes it was a resolve; sometimes it was an escape. Did I always take it? Nope. But, that was on me, not God. Again, then, I have no regrets. Truly.
I prayed for my parents to change.I'm sorry, I can't comment here, except to say that once I became an adult woman, I began to understand what I didn't as a child: that my parents did the best THEY understood and knew how to do... good or bad... based on what THEY had undergone and experienced. Once I learned about THEIR childhoods... well, it only became a matter of "well, duh!" And it was perpetuated LONG before them. But... I did not ever see where God was to blame. My parents and/or their environment, yes; their parents and/or their environment, uh-huh... and so on and so on... but not God.
I prayed for strength.As did I. And I have to say that in all TRUTH... God answered me on that one. I WAS strong; that was how I got through it. And I AM strong - and thus, me and my life is NOT defined BY it. Rather, I... define... my... life.
And I prayed that one day some people would come and take me away saying there was a mix-up at the hospital and I belonged to them and they loved me.What child doesn't... no matter WHAT their family/home life is like? Sigh! We ALL think we have it the worst. As I said, I will not go into the details - I do not wish you to publicly "know" me that "well." It is mine... and for me to keep. However, I will tell you that for all the days I wished my life to change... I never wanted the life of the kids in Africa or Chile or Peru or Bangladesh or Vietnam, either. Somewhere... SOMEONE'S life... was worse than mine. Always. And if they could endure THEIR life... I could... and did... endure mine.
Praying never worked.
And I cannot say this. For me... praying was the ONLY thing that worked! Begging and pleading with those CAUSING the harm to cease? Now, that... did not work.
At 10 I was going to church by myself.I started at six; the Sunday school bus would come by and pick me up. And I HAD to be ready, so that I would sometimes get myself ready... which meant mismatched shoes, dirty socks, wrinkled skirt, etc. Did I LIKE Sunday school? Nope. Hated it. Always thought I was being lied to and patronized. But... I thought that that's where God was... so I had to be there, too.
Maybe if I went to church God would listen to my prayers.I didn't pray to God in church (which is why, when the WTBTS taught me not to say the national anthem, I didn't have a problem being the only with my eyes not closed and my heart crossed - I was always "rebellious" - what can I say?). And I didn't think that He would think me "good" for going. I never considered that He thought me "bad". Stupid, maybe, from time to time, for not listening... and the choices I sometimes made... but not "bad". I went because I thought it was the closest place to Him. I prayed... in my bed. Alone. A lot.
I begged my mother for a few pennies to put in the plate as it was passed around. Maybe God would listen if I paid him. That didn’t work either.I never thought the money was for God. I always thought it was for the man who stood up front, all dressed up in some way... and talked about God. When what he said made sense... I listened. When what he said didn't... I dismissed it as HIS ignorance. And there were many of these men.
I remember sitting there, in the pew, my Sunday clothes on, feet not touching the floor, wondering why God thought I was so bad that He wouldn’t help a little girl.I remember thinking, "What do you want ME to do?" because I KNEW He wanted me to do SOMETHING. Some of it took me a LONG time to figure out... and that was: 1. To NOT worry about what others did or did not do... 2. But to love them in spite of it... 3. And concern myself only with what I did or did not do... 4. And to NOT worry about whether others did or did not love me... 5. But to love them in spite of it... 6. And love MYSELF... by means of... 7. Knowing that He indeed loved me... KNOWING it... 7. In spite of MY reasons for thinking He might not... based primarily on that which others tried to get me to believe... 8. And to tell any who ask... that He loves them, too... 9. In SPITE of their reasons for thinking that He doesn't... 10. Or the reasons that others have given them for thinking so. I knew numbers 2 and 5 at a very early age... which is what got me through the "crap". I did not let my love "cool off." I COULDN'T. Because it was all that I had. But... to stop worrying about whether they loved me... was harder... and KNOWING that God loved me... was even harder... so that loving MYSELF... was the most difficult. Because everyone... from parent to the WTBTS tried to tell me different: that I was supposed to love everyone BUT myself! But, my Father has taught me, through Christ, that UNLESS I love myself... I CANNOT love others. And UNLESS I know I am loved by Him... I cannot... love myself. How did I eventually KNOW I was loved by God? I HEARD it... and I put faith in what I heard.
I listened intently as the words of Jesus were spoken, "Let the little children come to me." Well I was there but I guess he never saw me.For me, it was different: I knew He saw me; especially, when I was "stupid". I just could not... see HIM. That, too, has changed.
Maybe God knew what I did with daddy and he was punishing me.Yes, God knew... but He wasn't punishing this child. The next line tells us who was doing that:
Daddy said what I did was bad and if the police found out I would go to reform school.But... we can't hold "Daddy" accountable... can we... cause he was only an "imperfect" man "made" by GOD (which is completely untrue, but)... so it is really GOD who is to blame, yes?
And have nothing to eat except bread and water, if I was lucky. Reform schools didn’t like little girls who did the things I did.Geez, what a "dad", eh? The man who was ENTRUSTED with the care of this child put these things in her head! NOT God... but... it's God who we should blame, right? It certainly seems to be God whom the "child" is blaming. But, I will tell you the TRUTH: the "child"... NEVER blamed God... but rather, blamed herself. Read it. And she DID such blame... because of what her FATHER (and others - but NOT God) told her. Read it. It is now the "adult"... who blames God... as a result of not having anyone else on whom to place such blame. Because, neither the father... nor the false "christs"... ever told her that THEY... can BE blamed... did they? Of course not! What TRUE "criminal" owns up to his/her responsibility for the act?
Maybe God didn’t either. I was a sinner. Pure and simple. They read it out right there in the church. Words from the Bible saying I was a sinner. God knew what happened with daddy. And it was a sin. And I was going to burn in hell for it.The people ENTRUSTED with "releasing" this child... did NOT do what they were obligated to do: tell her... the TRUTH... that it was DADDY who was to blame... and NOT her... and not God. True, that may not have occurred because she didn't tell them specifically, but drew her conclusions from what she heard them reading. But what is the TRUTH? Where in the Bible... no, where in the LAW... does it say that a little girl who is raped by her father is guilty of "sin"? WHERE DOES IT SAY THAT? Nowhere. Yet, no one told her this, but left her to her own young mind's conclusion... which conclusion carried forth into her adulthood. So much so that when NOW someone says, "You have been MISLED; God is NOT to blame... but Daddy is"... it cannot be "heard". And whose RESPONSIBILITY was it to tell her? The very one who was committing the "crime" against her. But... he's not responsible, is he, for his crime OR for not telling her the truth. Right?
But I’m only 10 and I can’t make daddy stop.No, she couldn't. But I ask you all: is God the ONLY one who could make Daddy stop? Can't DADDY make Daddy stop? Or Mommy?
I don’t like it and I try to hide but he always finds me. I say "No daddy," but he doesn’t listen either.Bad GOD... Daddy doesn't listen.
Guess God is like daddy and doesn’t listen to little kids.I wonder how we will all feel when we find out just how much crying God has done... NOT over what He has or hasn't done to/for us... but what WE have done... or not done... to/for one another. If YOUR heart is bursting for the little kids in Africa who have lost their parents to AIDS... if YOUR heart is bursting over the pregnant mother and child who were killed... if YOUR heart is bursting over this little girl and her plight at the hands of her father, as well as the multitude of little boys who have been molested for CENTURIES by men claiming to represent God... Why do "we" ASSUME, then,... that God's heart is not bursting as well? Because He hasn't done/didn't do anything? But what have "we" done? What are "we" DOING? Shouldn't HE, then, be just as DISGUSTED... with US? But I know... I know... there are still those among "us"... who just won't get the hypocrisy of it. I bid you peace anyway. A slave of Christ, SJ