Before the pandemic reached the US, there was news informing us, pumping fear into our veins as we anxiously tried to prepare. We watched as it moved closer and closer to home until we heard about the first case reported in our state and then learned about the first person we knew who was infected with the virus. It was like a concentric circle moving closer and closer until finally it made a direct hit. Trauma is like this.
As a trauma-informed spiritual director, I have heard countless horrific stories of sexual harm. I have sat with the victims, some of whom came forward for help shortly after the incident and others who have carried the weight of shame in their bodies for decades before finding language and receiving the support they needed all along. I have sat with the parents of the victims who are barely hanging on as they limp through the darkness trying to bear light for their wounded children. I have seen marriages, families, and faith torn apart by the aftershocks of such evil. How is it that it just keeps happening in a country that promises liberty and justice for all?
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