The Kitchen Table: I DIDN'T MEAN TO.......

Joy sobbed quietly as the officer removed her handcuffs and locked the cell door behind her. All she could do was think about what was going to happen next? Why was she being treated like a criminal? Why was Mrs. Evans, her daughter’s kindergarten teacher crying as she kept saying how sorry she was about all this? She remembered her saying something about her husband had been called. What was Arthur going to say? What are they going to do now? Where was Cynthia? What had they done with her daughter?!

It had started out like most days for Joy and Cynthia her 5 year old. Cynthia was a very active child and demanded a lot of Joy’s attention. There was a time when that was fine, but for the past year since Arthur had to take a pay cut and Joy’s company had closed their doors 11 months ago, Cynthia’s constant demand for attention had since become a problem. Joy was depressed, because they were behind on most bills and her phone rang from 8:30am to 8:58pm Monday through Saturday with people demanding that they pay up! Arthur took on a second part time job to help make up some of their lost income. Like many young couples Arthur and Joy lived beyond their means and now found themselves in a deep pit of debt. But to others it seemed as though they had the great American dream. They each had a new car, a nice house, took two vacations a year, and hosted plenty of cookouts and parties. They both dressed very well and had all the latest gadgets as soon as they hit the market. So when they couldn’t pay their bills and all their credit cards were either behind or maxed out, they felt to ashamed to tell anyone, and they continued to try to keep up appearances even though they were on a ship that was quickly sinking.

In the process of this lavish lifestyle they had taken on, they also spoiled their only child. She was the center of their attention and with each passing birthday she became more and more demanding. Joy was used to giving into Cynthia so that she would be quiet, but she could no longer afford to even take her to McDonald’s most days let alone to the mall to get a new outfit for one of her 5 Build-a-Bears. Cynthia’s tantrums were now starting first thing in the morning and only ended when she went to bed. Arthur was hardly ever home when she was awake and that left Joy with the task of having to deal with the monster she and Arthur both created.

Like clock work Cynthia started in on Joy first thing in the morning because she didn’t want to wear any of the shoes she had to school, and was upset there was not a promise to get a new pair. They fought about the shoes for half an hour when Cynthia took her arm and cleared her breakfast off the table onto the floor. Milk and all! It was the last straw for Joy! Before she knew it she had snatched Cynthia out of her chair and began to punch her in her stomach and back, screaming and yelling at the same time. How many times she hit her little girl she didn’t know, but when she finally stopped, Cynthia lie in a heap on the floor, whimpering like a little puppy. Joy stood there; enraged, tempted to kick her when she came to her senses and swooped her baby up in her arms telling her how very sorry she was. As with most young children they forgive their parents very easily, even when they abuse or mistreat them, and Cynthia was no different, and she hugged her mother back and told her she was sorry and loved her too.

Joy wanted to keep Cynthia home with her that day, but didn’t trust herself if Cynthia were to have another tantrum, so she took her to school. Everything seemed okay. But after being in class awhile Cynthia began to complain that her stomach hurt so her teacher took her to the nurse and when she vomited up a little blood they took her to the hospital. Once the doctor in the ER lifted up Cynthia’s top to check her stomach she saw all the burses Joy had caused when she had punched her that morning. When asked who hit her, she told them it was her mommy. When the school nurse had called Joy to tell her they were taking Cynthia to the hospital she didn’t answer the phone fearing it was a bill collector, so they called Arthur to meet them at the hospital.

When Cynthia’s class came running out at the sound of the 3’oclock bell and Joy didn’t see her daughter fear welled up in her heart as she ran into the school. When she entered Cynthia’s classroom the police were waiting to arrest her.

The story you just read was fictional, but holds a lot of truth to it. Women who beat and abuse their children are often the woman next door or the sister you see every Sunday in church. We are not surprised when we hear about abuse or neglect from a woman who is addicted to drugs or alcohol, but abuse is not a respecter of persons and it lives in the homes of the rich and famous just like the down and trodden.

Life can be very hard at times and in our frustration we can lash out at our children in ways that are harmful to them and to us. If you are a woman who is abusing your child or children in anyway, please do not be ashamed or afraid to seek help. Constant verbal abuse can leave scars on a child that are much deeper and take longer to heal than those brought on by physical contact. If you are cursing, screaming, belittling and yelling at your children—you need help. If you find that you are flying off the handle and hitting your children for every little thing—you need help.

Seek out someone you know cares for you and or you feel safe with. Tell them what is happening, and together you can take your next step. Do not go to someone who will help you hide your abuse, but someone who will stand with you side-by-side and support you in getting the help that is needed. But if you are in desperate need of help right now, please do not hesitate to call the National Child Abuse Hotline. You will get someone who you can talk to right away.

National Child Abuse Hotline: 1-800-4-A-CHILD The National Child Abuse Hotline is dedicated to preventing child abuse and takes calls from at risk children, parents who think that they might hurt their children, and people who think that a child is being abused.

Dear Lord, we need you so very much but there are times in our lives we are afraid to come to you. Father, my prayer is that any woman who has read today’s blog and has been hiding her abuse will be encouraged to step out and get the help she needs. That she will confess her sin to you and hold on tight to Your great love for her and her children. Your Word tells us that we are healed by the stripes that our Messiah bore for us and that covers the healing from the ravages of abuse, so help her to believe that she can and will be healed. Amen