Tales From Pandora's Box - The Finale

A Victim's Archives - A Story of Dysfunctional Love, and Restored Hope

Part Four – Prologue – The Adventure Continues.....

Over the next years through one trial after another hope continued to grow within her! As a result of this hope, faith was also cultivated while doubts and false doctrines were being steadily, diligently weeded or pruned away – and strength was regained. Slowly, ever so gently and gradually, wholeness came to her shattered soul – a solid sense of self came to replace the ever doubtful black hole of shame – that had once sucked away all joy and goodness of life - that had once firmly ruled her days and nights.

In addition another miracle was taking place - an awareness of her own intellect, beauty and artistic ability steadily grew – as she was blessed with other mirrors to reflect who she was - a Godly husband – seven wonderful children – and a few faithful friends. Because, you see, this girl – now quite a woman – could begin to see herself properly through their eyes. Their very existence, in fact, was another major miracle in itself – since that dream of family or friends had also been stolen by the abuse suffered – and almost inextricably buried. . . it was resurrected however. . . and as hope steadily grew the story continued. . . .

Many years into this journey of wholeness, while on the computer one day, she was contacted by that same young man of her earlier encounters. He now, as herself, no longer sported the cocoa-bean colored hair – but now hair of more of a silvery hue – such as he had left – but still looking through the same hazel eyes . Eyes which were perhaps a bit more gentle now, and somewhat less cocky, indeed, much less fiery. He contacted her to say that he was sorry for how he had treated her then, for the rough, cold, unfeeling way they had parted after so hot an interlude. He wanted to say that he had daughters – seventeen year old twins – for whom he would gladly kill any jerk that would dare to try to treat them as badly as he had treated the girl whom she had been! She understood. Having been blessed with seven children, four of whom were girls, she had known the fierce need to protect, nurture and shield them all against the groping, using world from which she had been gladly delivered.

The encounter was but a brief one. Neither of them wished to rekindle anything! They had both moved on. Way. On. But the apology was accepted – and exchanged for one of her own - without fanfare - and it had a profoundly settling effect on the woman. It came at just the right time – and it did the work which it was meant to do. It laid to rest the feeling of rejection of those days – and the shame of having failed in her Christian witness to this boy/man. It shed light on a reality which she had missed. It was just as much his immaturity as her insanity which had led him to run away from her. She was not entirely to blame. That was such a welcome relief. As was the knowledge that he could understand and forgive what she had been going through at that time.

She had recently, by the leading of the Spirit, been going through a process of uncovering all the why's of those early days. A process of recovering, facing, conquering and then properly re-burying all the horrible things which had been once improperly, hastily buried by the child. That tiny waif who had preceded that massively dysfunctional young woman – to whom the boy had found himself so strongly attracted - and then just as strongly repelled! The tiny, frightened girl that was horrifically, continuously, unimaginably abused by those who should have loved her – who buried all the horror of those unfortunate times in the wondrous imagination of a better life.

The woman had been enduring an ongoing process of having the shattered pieces of her former “existence” – for one could not reasonably call it a “life” - restored to wholeness – by the same miraculous process that had restored hope to the girl in the first place – the work of the Ruach ha Kodesh. He alone could have engineered this contact over “social media”, for the healing of them both, at such a precisely opportune moment. Both needed the relief of forgiveness. Both needed the release of understanding. Both needed the closure which the brokenness which that long ago moment had denied them – which now occasionally haunted them despite the full contentment of their current lives. But now – gratefully – finally - it was finished. Closed. Now those memories could be neatly packed away as the normal stuff of college students – as though it had been only a fleeting attraction which was not to be. No more. No less. Both walked away with a feeling of gratitude for the peace, normalcy and release which had been granted to them. It was an unexpected gift. A rare gift. A holy gift, from a Holy God. They were appropriately grateful.

Now the woman is at peace. By the continuing miracle of the Holy Spirit who tabernacles within her, she grows in that sense of wholeness, beauty and acceptance which is the God-granted possession of humanity – His inheritance to them – His explicit gift to each one who will draw near to Him. These processes are not for the faint of heart. But being a bit desperate sometimes helps one to accept them more readily. Gradually desperation melts away to patient endurance, grateful wholeness, and steadfast faith – in the One who is in control of heaven and earth.

Now she can see the fading beauty of her youth and celebrate its existence rather than mourn its passing - while thoroughly enjoying the beauty inherent to this season of life. Now she can contact the intellect that once eluded her grasp, and can utilize the creative forces that once seemed so difficult to summon. Now she is peacefully in control of her sensuality, keeping it within the intended bounds of holy matrimony – it has become more of an expression of deepest loving intimacy than a volcanic expression of pent up passions. Thank Heaven!

And the young man with cocoa-bean-brown hair, a 4.0 average and a vintage Camaro, is no longer a painful memory to be buried with the host of horrors – but a peaceful indication that her God has been in control of her destiny all along. This revelation has laid yet another skeleton in the closet of the past to a respectful rest – and has erased a few more shadows of regret and shame that once threatened the girl from which this gracious woman has grown. This truth has opened the broad vistas of lost and broken dreams again and set the woman free to dream dreams of radical and generous proportions.

Many years later than anticipated the caterpillar has become a butterfly – the ugly duckling has become – not a mere swan – but an eagle – fierce, free, and unrestricted by the limitations of those other birds! Storms that were once life-threatening are now nothing but the needed propulsion for her out-stretched wings! One more compartment in Pandora's box has been emptied – its contents burned to ash – out of which has seeped, quite unexpectedly, the oil of Joy, and ink for a story! It is Written, that God's ways are not our ways. Indeed! I am one more evidence of that Truth. This story, written with ink made from sorrow's ashes is one of Joy, Hope and Redemption – a long time coming, but hopefully worth waiting on. It was for her – for sure! As we count the omer, the days between Passover and Resurrection/First fruits to Pentecost/Shavuot – may we all experience the freeing restoration of His Ruach ha Kodesh, may we all sing His songs of redemption!

Not the end...but the finale of this tale. 

Shalom Chavarim! SCD 4/25/14