Child Abuse? I don't hate you Grandpa, but you broke my heart!

I dropped my son off at daycare yesterday as I do every other Monday morning. As I walked away, he came running behind me."Daddy, kiss," he said. So I bent down and gave him a kiss. Then as I turned he said, "One more hug, dad." I bent down and gave him a hug, and then pretended that his squeeze was hurting me. "You are too strong, DJ," I said to him. He started giggling and ran into class laughing. Instantly my heart was on fire with the love I feel for him.

Then my eyes welled up with tears. Running through my head was one thought. How can anyone hurt an innocent being. How can anyone neglect a child who can fill their heart with such joy if they only paid attention to them. I have always been and continue to be completely mystified by both child abuse and neglect. My heart breaks at the thought of it. I used to be filled with hatred directed towards the abuser. I thought that I had good reason to be.

I was abused as a child. I was psychologically and physically abused for years. There was other abuse too, but that is for another time. I was terrified of my grandfather. He would beat me and then not let me go to school for a week so that I had time to heal up. Sometimes I would come to my senses in the bathroom downstairs (I slept upstairs) sobbing crunched into a corner. All that was flying through my head was that I had lost my grandfathers prize horse, and he was going to kill me when he caught me. It was so real, and I knew that I was dead. That is some pretty wicked stuff right there, if you ask me.

So, I have always had a burning hatred for those who abuse children. I feel that there is something spiritually, psychologically, emotionally and morally wrong with a person who can do that. There is also generally substance abuse or mental health associated with it. As well as I can remember, my grandfather had neither of those excuses. He was just evil. That is what I used to truly believe. As we grow, our perceptions change. Mine have.

Don't get me wrong, I am still filled with a righteous anger when I hear of cases of child abuse and neglect. The place I work at has had several clients whose children have died due to abuse. My heart weeps for the potential that the world was robbed of at the loss of those children. My heart also goes out to those who loved the children. I cannot imagine what the parents must go through when they lose their children and they are thinking right again.

I know that people are responsible for what they do, but there are many things that fuel the fire. Because of that, I have a righteous anger that is directed at things that contribute to the abuse and neglect of children. My anger is aimed at mental illnesses. It is aimed at the doctors and psychiatrists that have parents so doped up on opiates, benzodiazepines and muscle relaxers that they don't even know what month it is. Makes it kind of hard to feed your kids when you can't even force yourself to get out of bed. My anger is directed towards the people who manufacture and distribute drugs. Besides Satan, drugs are the only other thing I honestly hate. I think that there is nothing that makes Satan happier than methamphetamine.

Finally, my anger is aimed at the people who raise the parents who abuse their children. You see, I stopped hating my grandfather. I am not sure when it happened, but after I got saved I realized that I no longer hated him. Instead, I was filled with pity for him. Over time I got to a place where I forgave him for what he did to me. I am still saddened, because I wonder what must have happened to him when he was a child to make him that way. How did his parents treat him? What horrors did my grandfather go through in his life? I never asked, and I will never know what created the monster that I knew.