I sit here preparing for another talk with my dear friend, Susan Dugan, about defencelessness and I have to acknowledge that I am enraged. Someone is trying very hard to hurt someone I love and I am incredibly defensive. My heart, once full of compassion, is now beating with anger- big and fierce.
He is unstable- pulsing with fear- and he is dangerous. My helplessness knows no bounds today. All I can do is listen to her as she recounts the pain of the past forty-eight hours. All I can do is pray.
And my friends, I have to admit, right now the words “In my defencelessness my safety lies.” ring hollow in my ears. Right now, I want her to be safe and I want him to stay away. Right now, I want a guarantee that she will have peace for today, tomorrow and forever and I want him to wake up to his destructive behaviour. And as I marinate in this refusal to accept reality, I cry.
This is where I am and I ask Jesus to meet me here. I ask for the willingness to see this differently. These two people I used to break bread with, laugh with, hug tight- they have drifted apart and separated. They call out for love in very different ways and I don’t know how to see it.
What do we do to one another in the name of being right? What do we do when we feel so ill at ease with ourselves?
We believe so strongly in these roles of villain and victim. We want so badly for someone to be wrong and the other to be right.
I don’t know what anything is for.
I know that in this world she needs to take action to protect herself. She is. The rest is for me to give over. The rest is for me to learn from. My reaction was a profound wish to reach through the phone and hold her close, to transport myself to her home and help her any way I could. My reaction was to curse his name and a deep desire to send my boyfriend to his door.
I am willing to see the truth in this concept. I am willing to let go.