I am no more guilty then they and they are no more guilty then I ...We are all the perpetrator ... We are all the child... We are all in need... Learning the ways of things... The real ways of things..

There I sat in the counseling room.  My dearest friend sat to my left and those that were listening to the stories that were coming forth from my heart sat  directly in front of my knees.  It was a small room.  A porch that had been fully closed in and redone into a sacred space, a place where those that came stepped in, stepped backwards into time to seek healing and truth.

I remember the comfort of my dear friend as she would sit next to me, the reassurances that her presence brought to my soul was palpable.  I could see all that was within the room but the eyes of my heart were far away from the present.  Head slightly tilted and resting upon my left shoulder, I could feel my eyes drop looking over to the floor to the right.  

I saw the flooring, the sliding glass door, the books that were upon the shelves and yet what I was really seeing wasn't actually there.  Not any more, not for a long time...As I sat safely upon that porch it was as if a time machine had landed my heart and mind back into a far off distant reality of the past.  Where the laughter and taunting of men, where the hands and bodies of other human beings took liberties with a child.  In those days it wasn't like I was human.  In those days it wasn't like I was a child.  In those days it wasn't like I was alive.  

More of an object than flesh and blood.  More of an object that existed for the adult pleasures of lustful men, than a child that would be found upon the swings and slides of a play ground. It would be a night that would leave me barely able to walk.  A tiny frame having been used up by giants.  

I sat in the safety of the small porch but my heart was far from safety and it was hard to breath.  I would look up into the eyes of those who had displayed mercy, I would reach for my friend's hand..  I would acknowledge that the present was indeed what was truly at hand.  That those days that filled my thoughts had been lived so very long ago.

So much had been stolen.  So much harm had already been enacted.  So much life had been inhibited.  So much betrayal.  A mind had been fractured.  A body broken.  A soul tormented.  Into the hands of the father of lies my life had been commended and devastating destruction had been wrought.

But now I sat.  An opportunity for a life I never dreamed of laid within my reach.  But an obstacle that seemed too gigantic laid in my path.  A hurdle that no Olympian could even with all their training clear.  

I could still feel the sensation of calloused hands touching the flesh upon my arm.  I could still smell the musty breath and taste the drunken saliva.  And this man.. these men... I was supposed to forgive.  Those that had robbed my heart of freedom and laid shackles upon my feet, those that had groped, and grabbed and tossed me around as if I was nothing more than a sack of potatoes. Those that had granted themselves pleasures after pleasures, feasting on the life of a child made up and taught how to perform adult behaviors.  

These were those that must be forgiven.

How do you forgive those that rob you of a life?  How do you forgive those that take things that can never then be ever given back?  How do you forgive those that forged insanity into your being and broke your mind, your will, your body, and your heart into a million tiny fragments?

Because I couldn't... I sat at that moment and I couldn't.

I lived the cost of the life that they took.  I felt the agony of insanity.  I felt the fruit of the arctic cold from the seeds that they planted into my life and I shivered non stop for years.  How do you forgive the ones who take beyond what they could ever give back?

I had played out scenarios in my head that perpetrated action upon action upon them.  I played out scenarios where they would be shrunk down and placed into glass bottles and be held prisoner.  I played out scenarios that tormented and tortured the ones who tormented and tortured.  But in all those scenarios I never touched peace.. I never came across satisfaction.

From hellish portions to heavenly sanctuaries I traveled that day on the porch.  From drifting back and forth from present to past to present to past.. from men who knew not that which they were doing to friends and counselors waiting for my heart to find its rhythm.  We all sat... Waiting...

I could hear myself swallowing.

Then my mouth felt dry.

I could see the flooring of the porch.

I would hear the mocking tones of mature voices daring a child to cry, speaking words that far outreached a rating even for mature audiences.

There was no way that I could cross that chasm.  The abyss far too wide for my heart to make that leap.  Too much had been exacted.. too much had been lost.. These were the days before my mind had been made whole and the reality of the mental scares were still worn upon my psyche.  The reality of the repair not yet tasted and the effects of the harm being felt by so very many.  

But then these are moments prior to promises fulfilled that must be confronted.  And my giants and I were standing upon the field facing off.  Though I was alone I stood not alone and though I had been defeated many times in the past I had found my footing again, and again the giant and I took our places.

There was no pebble to be thrown forth from a sling,  there was no courage within a heart.. there was no sight as to see what path could be walked forward...  there was nothing within that could find the capacity to bring forth the words that I knew I needed to say...

Forgiveness is a complicated matter...

My heart was full of steel.

It was still the four of us on the porch and it was still the pictures of the rooms that filled the past but within those places, past and present, there stood another.  As the Other stood there a filter, a lens, something different filled the air.  A prayer from ancient days filled the air and an aroma of sorrow and beauty penetrated my senses.  "Father forgive them for they know not what they do."

If those men had seen you as human... if those men had seen you as child.. if those men had seen you as I see you they would have never harmed you, they would have never touched you but to bring life, they would have never spoken but to bring strength.  

In those moments I no longer saw the aggressor or the abuser or the perpetrator.  I saw the human.  I saw the man.  I saw beyond that which they did and was moved by the prayers of Christ, when dying upon the cross acknowledged His Father and forgave us all, for we did not know that which we were doing.  

I wondered what had brought them to such a place where their eyes were blind to the reality of the child they held in their hands, I wondered what had brought them to such a place where their ears could not hear the heart that they were crushing and cursing,  I wondered what had brought  them to such a place and I broke for if they ever awoke, if they were to ever see, if they were to ever hear how would their hearts survive... AND I prayed.. Father forgive them for they know not what they did... I forgive them for they knew not what they were doing.. Father grant them mercy and grace to face their past as I need mercy and grace to face mine...  

I am no more guilty then they and they are no more guilty then I ....