What do you want to do when you grow up?

I went on the women's retreat with my church a few weeks ago. I really liked the speaker. Besides all of the important things like being theologically grounded, spirit-led and compassionate, she was real. What do I mean by that? Well, to start, she's on her 3rd husband. She had bad relationships before coming to Christ, and had really lived through some hard times with her kids. Of course I would never wish the type of life she had on anyone, and I don't think she's a "better" Christian because she's gone through some of the more technicolor "trials and tribulations," but sometimes it's just nice to meet someone who has a common life experience...someone who understands why you act the way you do, or believe things the way you do. Most people who have never experienced abuse first hand are unable to grasp those concepts, and understandably so...the impact abuse has on a person is made on the deepest level of a soul, which is why it's often so hard to get over.

During one of her talks, the speaker mentioned her son. Her second husband was physically abusive, and targeted his stepson most of the time. After they separated, her son did what most kids do, talk about what he wanted to do when he grew up. Except for him, it wasn't become a firefighter or an astronaut. When he grew up, he wanted to kill his step-father. No joke. When she said this, several women in the room looked shocked. Not me...it was a sentiment I knew all too well. While this wasn't my main goal in life, I day dreamt about what it would be like to kill my sister's dad. He made our lives a living hell for several years, and even after he and my mom were separated (and even to this day), he still screwed around with us. I never made a serious plan or anything...just thought about it. I sometimes wished he would come back and attack us one more time, so that I would be justified in shooting him. Don't know where I'd get a gun, but that wasn't relevant. This all happened to be at the same that several news stories broke about teenage boys killing their fathers for abusing their mothers, and they got off scott-free.

I think all this ran through my mind from the time I was 10 years old to 15 or 16 maybe...and I knew I'd never do it. But there was something satisfying about the thought of vengeance. Even though I knew God was in control, and that I needed to leave it to Him, I still dreamt about it. I think at that point, my anger, my rage, owned me. I still fall into hatred sometimes...and still sometimes wish my sister's dad to hell...but God's helping me make progress. I love the idea of grace & forgiveness...but sometimes I just don't understand it...or like it, depending on who it's applied to.

Anyhow, I didn't really set out to bear all of this...they say writing is cathartic, so here it is.