| POLLY'S STORY by Adam Harbinson 'Sticks and stones can break my bones, but names - will break my heart.' Domestic Abuse, sometimes called Domestic Violence, is a crime against humanity. It is inflicted against some of the weakest and most vulnerable in society. It feeds on secrecy and must be dragged into the open. This is what I want to do in this book. Battered wives must know that it's OK to leave him. You do not have to put up with it. Such violence is a crime. The fact that it takes place within the family does not sanitise it. He is the one who needs help. It is never right, but it is at it's most sick and perverted when it is carried out in a Christian setting, for the submissive wife can be convinced that this is her cross. Most assuredly it is not! Here's a true snapshot into Polly's life...
Eight o'clock in the morning and Polly is worn-out. She's just finished another all-night shift in a nursing home for the elderly where she works as a care assistant. It's one of two jobs she has to juggle to supplement her husband's income to keep her little family provided for. She unlocked the front door of her home and her head reeled as she tried to make sense of the scene: pictures and photos that had been hanging on the walls the previous evening now lay scattered and broken on the floor, cupboard doors and drawers lying open, contents strewn about and chairs upturned. But her home had not been burgled and there was no major family trauma; she'd seen it all before; this was her 'norm'.
She braced herself as she hurried upstairs fearing the worst, and a dark threatening figure brooded over her. She looked at his angry face and knew she had failed again. Her tired brain struggled to focus; 'What have I done that I shouldn't have? What have I forgotten to do? Whatever it was, it will be my fault and I'll pay the price!'
The wrecked house was only the beginning of her punishment. Next there'd be the familiar torrent of verbal abuse, another day without sleep, and to really 'teach the bitch a lesson' perhaps a slap or a bloodied nose, whatever it takes to release his pent up anger. And her crime? Polly had gone to work the previous evening without telling him where the child's dummy was.
Most days of her frazzled life were the same. She'd panic, 'I'm late, I should have been home ten minutes ago. But it wasn't my fault. There was a traffic jam.' nonetheless she trembled with fear and dread. No excuses, she will quietly suffer the consequences, for no one must know.
'Please, not again!' she inwardly groans as she sees the anger in his face. 'What's the matter with the dinner this time? Is it too hot or too cold? Not enough or too much? Too early or too late? Overdone or underdone?' - And once again the meticulously prepared food lies splattered across the floor!
Now she's too fat, she used to be too thin. She's ugly, stupid, a bad mother, a hopeless wife, useless in bed. Or she's dared to express her opinion, and he doesn't agree with it. 'How foolish of me. Why did I say that? I deserve everything I'll get.' She feels sick, but she's not allowed to be. She's tired but she must keep awake or she's a bore. Her period is coming again and she'll be a spoilsport. And all the while Polly is struggling to hold down her two jobs to earn the extra money needed to balance the family budget. It's her fault that she's not like her high-flying sisters, and so he has to sit at home until late in the evening while Polly is working, and he broods. Then in a foul mood he goes to bed and locks the doors, and once again Polly arrives home after another weary night on the ward to find all the doors locked and bolted. Locked out of her own home again - 'What have I done this time?'
This is Polly's life. To the outside world they look like a normal family. The three children seem balanced and well. They have family holidays, barbeques, birthday parties, picnics, all the usual family things. No one must know the truth. We must keep it in the family. Keep smiling and pretend everything is fine, show how close a family we are, keep up the charade and hope they won't see the bruises or the pain behind the smile.' But inside, Polly was dying; slowly her life was draining away.
'I broke down in work the other day. I can't eat, I've lost two stones in weight and I'm gradually becoming incapable of performing the simplest tasks fearing punishment for my imperfection. I can't hide it anymore. It's taking me over, it's getting out of control. Now the children are suffering. They have started to protect me. My eleven year old jumped on his back the other evening screaming, "Stop hitting my mum!" And the youngest is only four. They're unhappy. They want to leave. He is losing restraint. The violence is getting worse.
'He used to cry and be sorry, he'd promise it wouldn't happen again; he used to say that he loved me and the children, that we were all he had; that his life was nothing without us. But now all traces of the remorse he used to show has long gone. My life is in danger. I found myself hiding the sharpest knives yesterday. I contemplate driving the car over a bridge, but I love my children too much to leave them with him. We're frightened to stay and we're frightened to leave. But somehow, we have got to get away.
'Some say it's just a matter of just walking out, leaving him, but it's not that easy. I tried once before and he promised to change and sought help .for a while, but it didn't last. He tells me I'm the one who needs help. He says I'm sick and maybe he's right, but I have no money, and anyway, where could I go with three children?
Polly was a Christian. Her abusive husband wasn't, and she had always believed that it was her duty to help him. If she could absorb his violence for long enough her quiet and gentle manner might lead him to faith. For years she hoped that one day he would find true happiness in Jesus, and peace would come into their home, maybe then the violence would stop.
'I've prayed and fasted. I've cried out to the Lord in desperation to save my husband, but it made no difference. I've always tried to be the best example of a Christian by showing love and forgiveness. I continually yielded in submission and obedience, believing that this was my cross to bear, that Christ suffered for me and now I had to suffer for him. But I couldn't bear that cross any longer; it was too heavy for me and I wanted to die. "God, if you're real", I cried out, "I need you to speak to me. I need to know you're here. I need you to help me."
'Then God spoke to me, but not in the way I had expected. He revealed my husband's abusive behaviour to a complete stranger who told me that this was not my cross to bear, and all at once I could see that dark secrets are from Satan, and that God's way was for this abuse to be exposed for what it is; criminal, unacceptable and not to be tolerated.'
On average two women die each week as a result of domestic abuse, but Polly and her little family finally escaped. But it was only when she realised that she was accountable to God and God alone - not to he father, not to the minister. God would be her comforter, he would be her guide, and she would learn to listen to him. No longer was she to be influenced by leaders or well-meaning people who thought that her husband would be changed by attending a seminar or through prayer or going to church. And when she finally left him, God gave her the strength not to be tricked by her estranged husband who had suddenly been 'saved' and who appeared to be genuinely sorry this time. Perhaps he had repented. Perhaps he had surrendered his life to God, but her Father showed her that forgiveness does not necessarily lead to reconciliation. He showed her that he would never ask her to bear a burden that was more than she could bear. Going back was not an option.
It doesn't have to be like this. Help is available. There are places of safety. But you must talk about it. You must take action. There are people at the end of an email who can help. Talk to us in complete confidence. There is life after an abusive marriage/relationship. And if you want to share your story to help others, we will consider it for publication in complete confidence. Want to comment? Visit our Blog
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