After being exposed to a situation with a child earlier in the day, my heart overflowed with gushing compassion. Should I call the police? I knew it could sound insane if I told them what I witnessed. And, I reasoned, could they understand what I saw, and even if they did, how long could it be before their arrival to help?
My day was full of quiet time, writing, exercise, emails, and finally, I was at the market to pick up a few items. Somehow, I managed to stay dry and shielded from the pouring rain in all my running here and there. A blessing, I am sure, because the heavens had already opened up and emptied a couple of times.
It felt good to be meeting all the demands of my day so far. As I was swiftly moving through the market aisles selecting items from my list, I stopped at the sounds of someone spanking a child. The child was wailing loudly, and the sound of impact from hand to body rang across the store.
As soon as the hitting sounds stopped, a woman’s voice traveled over the shelves of food that separated her from me. She was screaming, “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” My heart was racing as I heard my inner voice saying, do something. Immediately, the sounds of crying halted. Before she could say another word, my heart nearly pounding out of my chest, I sprinted with my buggy out in front of me to meet her face-to-face.
The entire time I was rolling toward them, I kept thinking, what will we say, what will we do, what can I do?
I stopped about fifteen feet short of a group of three adults, one child in a stroller with a blanket covering it, and a tiny two-and-a-half to three-year-old on foot. He was a precious little boy, and I could see he was holding back his tears with all his might. His chest was pumping, and he was hiding in the hood of his jacket, covering his head.
At that moment, I realized I could say nothing or do nothing except stand on guard and watch. And I did that while screaming to God in my mind asking, why does this tiny child have to endure such abuse and oppression in his young life?
The fifteen or sixteen-year-old mother took the little boy to the area where he was looking for his choice of crackers. She demanded that he get them. He stood there staring, and she yelled, “Why are you acting like such a baby?” Then, she jerked him up, holding him out from her body and high enough so he could choose what he wanted. But he did not reach out to pick up anything. The thirty to thirty-five-year-old grandmother interrupted, “I think he wanted XXX brand.” His mom put him down in a rough way and, while reaching up to angrily snatch the crackers from the shelf, said to the child, “Why the hell didn’t you get the box?” She handed the item to the child, and as they walked on, she reached down to him and suddenly snatched the package from his hands.
They turned to walk away and join the grandmother, the other child, and the eighteen-to-twenty-year-old father, whom I noticed for the first time.
I stood in astonishment at what I had just witnessed and continued praying. Tears filled my eyes as I thought about that little boy’s heart and all the wounds inflicted upon him in those few moments at the market. I also thought about the mom and grandmother’s deep wounds in their hearts. It was apparent this was acceptable and normal behavior for them. It broke my heart, and I continued praying as I filled my basket.
After regaining my composure, I looked for the family in the store, but I never saw them again.
I write about this to reveal that our woundedness starts so young, and we have no other understanding of life by the design of our Creator. It certainly was not part of His plan for that little boy or us to be in so much pain and significant suffering at the hands of well-meaning parents with incredibly damaged hearts hurting their flesh and blood!
The purpose of my heart is to share the way to be free from all these little moments that have happened in our lives. Whether our wounds are from bullying, rejection, abandonment, abusive words, harmful actions, or the absence of a parent, there is a journey from the scars of trauma and brokenness to live in freedom and wholeness through the power of our Almighty God. We can uncover the trauma and the wounds of that trauma in our hearts. These wounds cause us to do the same to our children, make unhealthy choices for our lives, and live suffering in areas outside the design for our lives while here.