One of the hardest things for an emotionally abused women to deal with is the everydayness of living. All around her are people who get up and do what needs to be done and do so while surrounded by those who love and support them. She has to get up and get stuff done, too, but she must do so with no support and, often, with no clue how to right the many wrongs that makes up the daily life of herself and her children. What is so simple for others often threatens to overwhelm her.
Unlike her sisters who are physically abused, few, if any, others know what she is going through. There are no scars to cover, no bruises to hide under makeup. There is only a broken heart, a crushed spirit, a life dwindling down to nothingness as she tries, step-by-weary-step, to make sense of it all.
Some days tears come unbidden, time and again, as if they will never end. Other days, she feels numb, dead inside, and no matter what happens, no matter how her abuser tries to hurt her, there are no tears left to be cried.
Often sadness threatens to overwhelm her: the loss of the love she’s never known seeps deep inside her and flows out in aching ways.
She hurts daily for her children: for what they haven’t had and for what they have had to endure. Sadness threatens to drown her as their pain mixes with her own and flows into black. If not for God, she couldn’t hold on another second.
Each day begins, each day ends and she endures through it all.
Everyday she will face the sunrise with a tiny, torn, shred of hope that perhaps today something might change. Perhaps her abuser will change (though somewhere inside she knows he won’t); and, perhaps, if he won’t, she will. Perhaps today her broken heart will begin to mend. Perhaps her children won’t ache as much. Perhaps she might, with God’s help, begin to make sense of it all and have some clue…some tiny little clue…as what to do next with the brokenness of life.
When each new sunrise comes she will get up, she will pray, and, because of her love for her children, she will try harder than anyone could possibly imagine, harder than most will ever have to try. And she will do it all unseen, unknown and alone…except for God.
But it doesn’t have to be that way. We can learn the signs of abuse. We can learn to listen, learn to weep, learn to serve. We can be there for her and for her children. We can but we probably won’t. Because we probably won’t, these women, our sisters, will continue to endure unimaginable heartache, continue to try harder than we can imagine ever having to try, continue to lean on God alone. And, one day, because we didn’t do what we could have done, we will stand before our Lord and have to answer to Him for our failure.