man in black

After I finished witnessing yet another emotional breakdown, I read the resident's heartbreaking story. This song came to mind:

...Well, there's things that never will be right, I know
And things need changin' everywhere you go
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right
You'll never see me wear a suit of white

Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day
And tell the world that everything's okay
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back
'Til things are brighter, I'm the man in black

--Johnny Cash, from Man in Black

It's hard for friends to imagine that I once lived without a melancholy bone in my body. Some children are predisposed to having a quiet, contemplative way about them, but I was far from that. Whoever the teacher sat next to me would be my friend. I loved talking, and I trusted others to a fault. I had no reason to believe that everyone's intentions were anything less than pure.

I know that we all lose that sort of optimistic innocence to varying degrees, but my steady transition to what can best be described as "somber" has as much to do with other lives as it does my own. I can be nothing but grateful for the opportunities I have had. But if someone must cry for these burdened young ladies, it may as well be me.

According to RAINN, a charity organization aiming to prevent sexual violence, one in six women will be a victim of rape or attempted rape in their lifetime. I can't help but be alarmed by this. And maybe my temperament lends itself to befriending a greater percentage of prior victims, but it almost seems as if one in six is a conservative estimate. I get that women have no desire to be identified as victims (as none of us want to be deeply connected to the most painful experience of our life), but it's pretty hard to argue that our culture has not suffered some heavy residue from this ongoing tragedy.

Sure, because I work with a female population, it makes it hard for me to ignore. I don't have the luxury of viewing unhealthy sexual behavior in a vacuum. Yes, we are all given the freedom to make our own choices, but there appears to be such a strong correlation between being subject to abuse and later acting out that the church has to begin addressing more than the symptoms.

We want to speak strongly against homosexuality, casual sex, teenage pregnancy, abortion, and the like, but most of these girls are not being introduced to a sexualized world on their own terms. A small minority of victims have someone they can trust to help them through the recovery, but a greater number are on their own -- trying to cope with a lost innocence that occurred literally overnight.

I don't know the answer. The girls I work with have long since learned to cope in adverse ways, and we have to spend as much time treating their poor responses as the initial victimization. It seems that help needs to be available sooner, especially to those too frightened to acknowledge what has happened.

I'm not sure, and I'm just one man. But I know that this will continue to nag at me until I know how I can help. I need to seek the Lord in this. But as I wait, I don't get to forget that this pain is out there, as much as I want to convince myself that everything is okay.