Whispersfrommyheart's Blog

Posts Tagged ‘daughter

Courtesy of The Kelly File

Courtesy of The Kelly File

Jessa Seewald and Jill Dillard, two of the victim sisters of Josh Duggar, broke their silence on The Kelly File Friday night. I watched, intently, to see how they spoke about their abuse, and how they reacted to personal questions regarding said abuse. And, do you know what I saw?

Grace.

Forgiveness.

Mercy.

I saw tears, too, but not where I expected them.

I expected the girls to break down when they were asked about what their brother did. I expected them to react like I did — like so many of us do when we recount our abuse — with tears, anger, and yes, some bitterness that Josh Duggar stole something precious from them — their innocence.

But, they didn’t.

Their body language was relaxed. They looked at ease through most of the interview. They smiled, laughed, and comfortably spoke about what took place in their home. It wasn’t until the subject of the media was brought up that, at least, Jill’s body language changed. She stiffened up and began to cry as she gave her personal feelings about the release of their sealed report. Jill recalled calling her husband on that day, over two weeks ago, when In Touch Magazine posted the police report for all the world to see.

“We’re victims,” Jill Duggar Dillard exclaimed. “How can they do that to us?”

Jill continued to fight back her emotions as she explained how they felt they were being re-victimized “a thousand times worse” than the original offense. She, and sister Jessa, both said multiple times, “We had already dealt with it, we moved on. Josh confessed to us, we forgave him; we moved on.”

So, why can’t America let it go?

Is it because we are disgusted with this kind of “sin”? As well we should be. As one who has endured years of childhood sexual abuse, I can say first hand that molestation is disgusting. It is vile. It is reprehensible. Repulsive. Repugnant. Vicious. Nasty. Shocking. Appalling. And, yes, contemptible. A lot of the posts I have seen over the past few weeks express those very words. Some would like nothing better than to take Josh Duggar out behind the woodshed and execute him. We have no problem understanding, or accepting, the words that express our disgust of Josh’s actions. We applaud those words. We exhort those words. But, there is another word we’ve heard that makes us just as mad as Josh Duggars actions against his sisters and baby sitter. A word that infuriates us and enrages us, and causes us to strike out in shock and disbelief that such a word could even be muttered over such a reprobate .

Forgiven.

WHAT? Forgiven? How could anyone forgive what he has done? He’s a pig. A worm. He doesn’t deserve to live. I’ve seen the words written all over the internet, newspaper sites, blog posts, Facebook statuses, Twitter feeds… they’ve all basically said the same thing. “Josh Duggar is a vile human being, and therefore must be punished in a manner that is acceptable to us.”

But, we don’t get to make that call, do we?

Josh didn’t molest us, he molested his sisters and baby sitter, and they are the only ones who get to determine whether or not he is forgiven. Period. And they chose to forgive him.

Deal with it, America.

I was very impressed by Jill and Jessa. They have given us a peek into something holy. A humble, beautiful example of Agape Love. True love that covers a multitude of sin (1 Peter 4:8). Along with a heart of love, they have given us a clear example of what true forgiveness looks like. A perfect example of how our LORD, Jesus Christ, treats every one of us who repent and turn from our sin to follow him.

The Duggar girls aren’t angry. The don’t exhibit signs of bitterness. They aren’t bashing their brother. Instead, their words toward him are seasoned with grace and mercy. They have said they have dealt with it, they have forgiven him, and they have moved on.

I believe them.

Is it possible, the reason we are so outraged is because we just expect the Duggar girls to feel the same way we do over our own abuses (or how we feel over a family member/friend who was abused)? And, because they don’t we think there must be something wrong with them?

I mean, who does that?

Victims forgive.

Why?

Because forgiveness doesn’t release the offender from the responsibility of his or her actions, rather, it releases the victim from the prison of emotional upheaval and life altering issues caused by the offenders actions.

The Duggar girls understand this.

They don’t need our help. No matter how much we think our two cents (even this blog post) is spot on, they don’t need our help. They’ve got it covered. And, they don’t need the internet counseling sessions. Their family dealt with Josh’s abuse. DCFS cleared the parents, and even complimented them on how they handled the situation. And, certainly, the girls don’t need our criticism for their right to forgive their brother.

These girls have suffered twice now.

It’s time to allow them the dignity to live their own lives with their own convictions.

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When I got out of bed this morning I was in a mood. There was a knot in the pit of my stomach. I was angry. Depressed. I began to read my morning devotion and the knot became persistent.

“What’s wrong with me, LORD?” I wondered. For the past couple of days all I have wanted to do is cry!

“Delicious.”

The word popped into my mind. Then,

“Mom.”

The tears began to fall. “Yes mom.” I whispered, “The weather is delicious.”

I can see her now.

That was mom’s thing. When the first crisp days of fall rolled around, she donned her “Someone Special Calls Me Nana” sweatshirt, soft pants & fuzzy slippers and gleefully made her first cup of hot cocoa. She would take that first sip, lick her lips, and let out an exaggerated, “ahhhhh”! As if that particular cup of hot chocolate was the best thing she had ever tasted. She would look at me, with bright eyes and a smile, and say, “The weather is delicious!”

I’d mumble something to her as I poured my first cup of coffee.
She would then proceed to tell me, again this year, just how much she loved the cooler weather. It reminded her of when she was a child. She would tell me, again, about the old, Appaloosa speckled, plow horse, with hooves as big as dinner plates, she used to ride through the fields. How she would stay outside, all day, until her grandmother would call her in to eat.

She would, once again, giggle as she told me if she wasn’t outside riding a horse, or if the Iowa weather didn’t permit her to be outside, she was inside pretending to be a horse. Her nickname was Trigger. Yes, named after Dale Evans’ and Roy Rogers’ horse. In the morning she would tear her shredded wheat into a bowl – without milk – put the bowl on the floor, and eat it on her hands and knees… like a horse eating its hay. Then, she would gallop around the house, whinnying. Saying things like, “Whoa, Trigger.” Or, “Giddyup.”

Then, as if the channel changed, she would tell me how she helped her grandmother in the garden. Or, picking a juicy peach off of the tree, biting into it and letting the juice run down her chin. Again, she would tell me how she sat for hours, in the crook of a tree while reading a book. She loved to read. The myriad of books that lined our coffee tables, shelves and around her chair, were proof of that. She would tell me, once more, how no one worried about where she was, or what she was doing. They knew, if Margie – that was her real name – wasn’t galloping in the house, or riding the plow horse, she was sitting in her favorite tree, reading.

Later on she would want to go for a ride to look at the trees. One year, after a particularly wet summer, the colors were brilliant. She oohed and awed, like a child, enjoying the beauty of God’s creation in the fall. One year, we drove to Bald Knob Cross to view the colors from the scenic overlook. Of course, the foggy, misty day didn’t dampen our spirits as we walked to the overlook. We both fell silent as we surveyed the expanse of earth from the top of that hill. As a treat we would stop for lunch, or, just an ice cream cone. Simple times. Good times.

This is my first fall without her.

The air is cool this morning. I should go get her canister of hot cocoa and make a cup, lick my lips and let out an exaggerated “aaaah,” but I can’t. I can only cry. The tears fall as I think about her and the things I miss. The sound of her voice. The light in her eyes. Her laugh. Her presence. Her.

My coffee cup warms my hands. I look out the window and let my mind linger on mom. And, even though I have heard her stories one thousand times, I would give anything to hear her tell them to me one more time, especially when the weather is delicious.

I miss you mom.

You knew him once upon a time

So many years ago;

He offered you his friendship but,

Dear Daddy, did you know?

 

One night he led me into hell

With terror to bestow;

And stole your daughter’s innocence

Dear Daddy, did you know?

 

That night I pleaded; terrified

Oh please, don’t make me go;

You said “Enough! It’s settled now.”

Dear Daddy, did you know?

 

I didn’t want to go there but

I went there anyway;

Endured the pain and agony

Afraid of what you’d say.

 

I didn’t call when he was done

Nor think that you would come;

Or want to save your little girl

Now broken and undone.

 

I’ve often wondered through the years

Why Daddy didn’t see;

The fear that was so obvious

And cries that came from me. 

 

And how could Daddy never see

His daughter’s soul had died?

Behavior; attitudes that changed

Was evidence denied?

 

I’ve held this anger in my heart

Since I was only eight;

I’ve blamed you Dad for everything

And given in to hate.

 

 

Realities of what you said

Have echoed through my mind;

Became the ache of memories

Transcending years of time.

 

But Daddy there is something else

I want for you to know;

Despite the pain and suffering

Compassions seed has grown.

 

My Father Who’s in heaven has

Redeemed my ruined past;

He taught me how to love; forgive

And walk through life at last.

 

There’s one more thing that you must know

Straight from your daughters heart;

If I’m to bridge the gap at all

Today’s the day to start.

 

I’ve chosen to release you from

Responsibilities;

That once demanded justice for

The shame inside of me.

 

And with release I now forgive

Your words of long ago;

The secret of my troubled past

Dear Daddy, now you know.