Tag Archive | child abuse

Going Back to Move Ahead – Beginning


That indescribable swoosh –

Belt pelting through loops –

The hard sharp slap of leather

    Doubled on leather –

Split seconds of cowering wait –

Then the sounds have no words…

Silent screams of a bewildered child

Trust forever always gone-

Angry demands to break a spirit –

Secret welts and hidden bruises

Some deeper than could be healed.


That indescribable swoosh –

Air leaving lungs no return –

The faraway kind doctors words

    You’ll lose it –

Shattered hours of disbelief –

Echoes of a belt and internal screams…

Just when denial seems to work

Surely he had to be wrong –

Sirens stretchers emergency –

Another closer brush of deaths wings –

No more choice decision made

To live meant the leg must go.


That indescribable swoosh –

Of stretcher wheels and scrubs –

Silent seconds while deep sleep

    Comes to invade –

Until the next invasion slams –

Horrific pain disbelief leg gone…

Determination life must go on –

Return to home and work –

A higher mountain everyday

But one God helped me climb.

    d.f.a.v. 10/26/14


Another One Lord

Another one Lord.

Another one covered in cuts

All stages of bruising

Crusted over with filth



Hair matted…

Eyes widened in surprise…

Haunted by memories

No one can ever know.


Another one Lord

Another one covered in burns

Almost sixty percent

Oozing and infected



Voice silenced…

Eyes haunted by horrors…

Afraid of rescue

No one can ever know.


Another one Lord

Another one’s head hung down

Always hearing they’re worthless

They are a burden by living




Locked away inside themselves…

Beaten by words echoing

No one can ever know.


Another one Lord

Another one locked in a cage

Another one forgotten

Whereabouts unquestioned




Afraid of kind human touch…

Shattered by violence

No one can ever know.


Another one Lord

Another one shaken

Anger aimed and received

For a whimper a cry




Unable to respond anymore…

Head smashed neck broken

No one can ever know.


Another one Lord

Another one defiant

Amazed they are charged

Denial of there being any abuse




Surely the court can understand…

They themselves abused

No one can ever know.


Another one Lord

Another one for You

A mess of wickedness

Or mental illness or addiction

Can’t explain…

Doesn’t understand…

Control gone…

Their crime unintentional…

Pressured they snapped

Only You can know.


Another one Lord

Another one for You to judge

Regardless of man’s decision

Despite any legal mumbo jumbo




They will stand before You…

As will we all

Only You can know.


Another one Lord

Another one who will bow

Trembling in Your presence

Mankind’s thoughts and laws



Not needed…

They will hear from You…

All of us not to hear

Your judgment for child abusers.

    d.f.a.v. 8/8/14



Poured Out – Part 4



(Previously in Part 1 we learn that Rebecca King, then 14-years old and inspired by the testimony of a deacon in her church, asks God to pour her out like a drink offering if it means bringing her father to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. In Part 2 it is a few years later and Samuel King, Rebecca’s father, terrorizes the local McDonalds arriving to berate his daughter for being late getting home. After becoming physically violent and injuring one person severely Sam is arrested and taken to jail. On his way to jail he remembers his wife was supposed to pick Rebecca up from work and they were going to stop at her mother’s. He blames them both for his behavior and ultimately his imprisonment. In Part 3 Sam has been released from jail due to overcrowding and arriving back in his hometown goes to an address he has for Rebecca. His wife and other family are in an unknown location and his wife has divorced him. He is shocked to discover that Rebecca is not working at Heaven’s Haven but a resident in the nursing facility. Prior to his initial encounter with his daughter he remembers her coming to the jail the night before his sentencing and pleading with him to ask Jesus into his heart. Sam had lost control and actually managed to stomp on his daughter before a guard tased him. Finding his daughter’s room he discovers Rebecca is in a wheelchair and during his taunting a doctor enters and tells Sam that his daughter is in the wheelchair due to her father’s beatings when she was younger. Upon hearing this Sam flees.)

Rebecca looked in anguish at Dr. McGuire as her father turns and flees. “Why did you tell him that?” Rebecca asks the doctor.

“Because someone had to and I knew you wouldn’t.” Dr. McGuire’s voice is stern but softens as he continues to speak. “Oh Bec I knew you would let him continue to taunt and berate you and never speak up for yourself, never tell him that he was the one whose abuse and violence left you unable to walk. And,” he paused before adding, “and I wanted to see if he has any humanity in him left to hurt.”

“It wasn’t your place Ethan. I understand but he is still my father and of course he can be hurt…” Rebecca’s own voice broke, “at least I think he still can. I don’t know what five years in prison has done to him.”

“Doesn’t seem to have softened him any, he looks mean Bec. Every bit as mean and capable of violence as your family has told me.”

Rebecca sat silently for several minutes and Ethan allowed her time to gather her thoughts. He is well aware of how deeply she clings to her belief that God has taken her up on her plea as a teenager that He pour her out like a drink offering if it means her father would come to be a Christian. “Who am I,” Ethan asked himself, “to doubt her faith? Even if I believe she should have done just like her family and left Samuel King and everything connected to him far, far behind?”

Ethan thought back to when he had first met Bec. He was a new doctor, just finishing up his residency at the local university hospital when he heard the staff talking about a young woman in rehab with an amazing positive spirit. Within days it seemed everyone was talking about this young woman and Ethan had found himself strangely drawn to her room, though he had no reason to be, just to meet her. Within minutes he recognized Rebecca King was the real deal. She was a Christian through and through and her faith seemed to ooze out of her, creating an aura people just responded to. He wasn’t her doctor but he became her friend, he wanted to be more.

“Pray with me?” Rebecca asked.


Ethan knelt down and took Rebecca’s hands in his and together they prayed, both praying that Sam King would yet be drawn to Christ, and that they would both find peace and protection from any evil.

When Sam King ran out of the front doors of Heaven’s Haven he had no idea of where he was going. He also was no longer in a physical shape that allowed him to run long without becoming winded so he got no further than half a block before he was panting for breath. Sweat ran down his ashen face and he wondered if he was going to have a heart attack his heart was pounding so hard in his chest. About 10 yards off on the lawn on his left was a gazebo and struggling Sam managed to stumble over to it and up its two steps before sinking to one of the benches along the inside walls.

No matter how much he tried to shut the words of the doctor out of his mind he kept hearing them. Sam had spent a lifetime ignoring the truth about his own self. The more he ran from who he had become, sometimes, the more it seemed to him his reflection was smashed back into his face. Suddenly Sam couldn’t run anymore. He couldn’t physically, five years behind bars with no attempt on his part to strengthen his muscles his body had grown weak. He couldn’t emotionally for anger had fed his cruelty and his belief that everyone around him was the reason his own life didn’t measure up or work out right. Seeing Becca in that wheelchair, her legs stick thin and knowing, in the deepest part of him, that he was the reason.

Tears built up in his eyes and though he wiped them away they kept coming. Sam tried to summon up his usual excuses to fuel his anger to cut off any feelings of tenderness but he failed. Instead he remembered the day at the age of five when he fell off the wagon his family was using to haul in the tobacco crop and had been trampled by the horses pulling the wagon behind the one he’d been on. He’d escaped from the horses’ hoofs but his left wrist had been broken from his fall. He had tried to get up before his father knew what had happened but their neighbor, Mr. Kinney, who had been driving the second wagon had stopped the wagon and been over to him before Sam had been able to get up. Mr. Kinney’s shouts stopped his father’s wagon.

Sam’s Pa had seemed too concerned there in the rutted road that ran along their tobacco fields. He’d thanked Mr. Kinney for helping Sam and he’d asked him to thank God in his prayers that his son hadn’t been killed in the accident. Then he’d lifted Sam up to the wagon seat and urged Mr. McKinney to hurry on with his own wagon to the tobacco barns while he took Sam into the house.

As soon as Mr. Kinney had been out of ear shot Sam’s moments of comfort and caring from his father were over. Spit had flown out of his mouth as he berated Sam for being clumsy, probably daydreaming or sleeping instead of paying attention. Now he’d lose half-an-hour taking his sissy boy to his Mamma for tending to and if he didn’t get the rest of the tobacco crop in it would be all Sam’s fault. Later when he learned Sam had broken his wrist he grabbed Sam by that broken wrist and held him tight as his belt flayed Sam repeatedly. The next morning, moving as quickly as he could Sam had been right there in the tobacco fields helping harvest the tobacco. His broken wrist unset. His back a crisscross pattern of belt welts. The rest of him black and blue from the horses’ feet. But Sam never complained. He knew better.

Sam had ran off when he was twelve and never looked back. His Pa had become a regular lush by then, his body, mind and heart consumed by alcohol. His mother still the silent shadow in his father’s weak light.

He’d had a hard life. He’d had an awful life. There was no denying that truth. Nor was there any denying the truth of his own mistreatment of his own children and even his wife. Sam’s father had left him with a wrist that ached awfully bad in the cold months and was malformed so badly Sam wore long sleeves all the time to hide it. Now Sam had left his daughter unable to walk.

Two shoes stood in Sam’s sight and he followed the legs attached up to see the doctor from Becca’s room. Sam drew in a sharp breath of surprise.

To be continued…

Pouring Out – Part 3

Earlier in Part 2:  Rebecca Kings father, Samuel is on his way to jail after a violent incident at the McDonald’s where his daughter works.  He injured three employees and terrorized patrons.  On his way to jail he remembered his wife was picking Becca up.  He vowed they would both pay.

From Part 1:  Rebecca asks God to pour her out as a drink offering to get her father’s attention and bring him salvation.


Part 3:
Samuel King served five years for his outburst in that fast food restaurant.  The district attorney charged him with many things but what earned him a ten year sentence was nearly causing the death of an employee he had knocked out and who hit her head on the stainless steel counter.

Overcrowded jails earned him early release, not his behavior.  He walked off the bus and looked around the town that had grown since he last saw it.  Sam King looked for no greeting committee.

His wife had divorced him as soon as his sentence was announced.  She’d taken the kids and moved, leaving no forwarding address.  After bugging her parents he’d spent three months in solitary and was forbidden to contact them.  He learned through his lousy attorney they had both died within a year of one another four years ago.

Becca was the only one Samuel had any idea of where she was and he was headed there first.  She still owed her father something.  If not for her he’d never been in that McDonald’s, she and her mother had been late and Sam had been sure Becca had been with some trashy boy. 

Well, he’d surprise his daughter today.  He had her address.  He was going there as soon as a bus could get him there.

Sam figured he had her work address when he found Heavenly Haven two blocks from the bus stop.  He walked through automatic doors and stalked up to the receptionist.  When she asked his name he lied and gave his oldest sons name.  The receptionist handed him a pass and told him he wanted room 117.

Forbidden he remembered the night before his sentencing.  Rebecca had come to the jail and pleaded with him to “ask Jesus into his heart” and before the guards could stop him he’d knocked Becca out of her chair and started stomping on her.  He was sure he’d heard bone break before one of three guards had tased him.  They told him later his daughter had been taken by ambulance to the emergency room.

The next day his lawyer had been furious with him as had the judge.  There had been no mercy.  Sam hadn’t heard a word they said about Becca’s condition, he’d been to mad at her for crying at the hospital getting everyone mad at him.

Now Sam’s footsteps stopped outside room 117 and he figured his daughter was tending to some old coot.  Boldly he swung the door open. 

Before he said a word the woman in the wheelchair turned around.  Sam saw but couldn’t comprehend. 

Rebecca spoke first, “Daddy!  You’re out!”

“Yeah.”. He muttered.

“Well come in and sit down.” She offered him one of the rooms chairs.

“Thought you worked here.”

Slowly Rebecca met his eyes, “No.  I moved here when Mom couldn’t care for me at home anymore, about four years ago.”

“What did this to you?  Wreck?”

“Accident of sorts, he didn’t mean for it to, I’m sure.”. Rebecca turned half away.

“Got yourself mixed up with some no account…” but his words were interrupted by a doctor coming into the room.

“Rebecca had the great misfortune of being beaten and having her spine severed.  Unfortunately she had no choice in having this man in her life.”

Sam rolled his eyes.  “Husband huh?  Forgot your place?” He sneered.

All the blood drain from his head at the doctors next words despite his daughter trying to stop him.  “No, her no account father did this.”

Sam turned an ran.

To be continued.