The Leaf

 
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Autumn leaves have come to have a lot more meaning to me than they used to.

Three years ago today, it was a normal morning.  There was nothing peculiar or different about it.  I wish I could remember what you wore that day, or what I wore.  I wish I could remember what we ate for supper that night.  I had no clue it would be the last meal that we shared.

It amazes me that three years have passed.  Sometimes it feels like three minutes, especially when a trigger hits out of nowhere and sucker-punches my heart.  Each morning after that night, I remember waking up thinking I just had a nightmare.  That’s when the sick feeling quickly turned to numbness.  For months I just did what I knew I was supposed to do.  When I look back now, I was like a zombie or a robot – I was very ‘mechanical’.  The night of your death shook my world apart.  My tree of life started losing its leaves…

The Britannica Encyclopedia says, “autumn leaves are not simply blown off trees but are separated in a highly controlled process. The vessels that carry water to the leaf and sugars to the rest of the plant are closed off, and a layer of cells starts to grow between the leaf stalk and the twig holding it. These cells serve to slowly cut the leaf from the plant without leaving an open wound. As the leaves fall, the plant enters dormancy, saving its energy for the great bud burst of spring.”

I entered a period of dormancy.

Scripture says, “To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die…” 

Three years later, I find myself as Executive Director of The Caring Place, and on this particular day, something is being born.  It has been the dream of one of the counsellor’s to start a support group for domestic violence/sexual assault.  As I write this, women are opening their hearts that have been dormant…  I know I would not be here if you were still alive. We would be happily spending time together in retirement.  God knew that.  Autumn leaves are not simply blown off trees but are separated in a highly controlled processDoes it hurt any less?  When I close my eyes, I can see your face, I can feel your body against mine…  Yes, it still hurts.  But knowing that you were not just some leaf randomly blown off the tree brings me great comfort.  There is a plan.  My numbness is leaving and I am being reawakened. 

I love you Lawrence Materi.  That will never change.  I wouldn’t be who I am without you.  I wouldn’t be where I’m at without you.  I’ve been told that you’re up there clapping your hands and urging me on.  Joy and pain collide… Spring is coming.

The Moment

On a return flight from Africa, I started conversing with a man after having to switch seats.  He was a little reserved, but the conversation seemed to flow easily.  There were a lot of empty seats on the flight.

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He asked me if my trip had been for business or pleasure and I began telling him about the training that had been accomplished at the orphanage.  Intrigued, he asked more questions.  Eventually, I ended up sharing my personal story with him.  As always, I included being sexually abused and having an abortion. 

As I talked about my faith, he revealed that he too, was a Christian.

“Can you tell me something?” he asked as he lowered his eyes.  “When did you know that you were forgiven?”

“I assume you’ve been involved with an abortion?” I said, knowing it could affect men just as much as women.

I assumed wrong.

“No…,” he said, “the other…”

My heart immediately knew where the conversation was going.

Reports say that statistically, one in three women has been sexually abused by the time they reach eighteen and one in six men.  If my math skills are correct, that means almost one-quarter of the population has been sexually abused.  That would, in turn mean, that one-quarter of the population have been the abuser…

“You have sexually abused someone…” I whispered.

“Yes…” he said as one tear then another dropped.  “It was a very long time ago.  I’ve never told anyone, not even my wife.” 

He kept glancing at me, fleetingly…, sporadically, as shame enveloped his whole being.  I knew he was looking to see if there was judgment in my eyes.  He didn’t find any.

I had gone down this road with many clients.  I knew it was extremely important that I not stop gazing at him.  His heart would read a message saying, There!!!  See!!!  You think I’m a bad person.  Don’t worry, it’s only a matter of time before my own personal hell totally envelopes me.

“God knows your heart,” I said softly. “He’s been waiting a long time for this moment.  You’ve just confessed.  And He wants to forgive you.”

He closed his eyes as the tears continued to fall.

I asked if it was possible to go to the person and ask forgiveness.  “Although, I have to warn you, she may not be ready to face what has happened.”

“That’s not possible,” he said, his throat constricting as he explained why.

We sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Do you want to ask God for forgiveness?  I know you don’t think He will forgive.  I know you think He wants to condemn you.  But that’s not Him talking…  If He could forgive me of killing my own child, do you think He can forgive you for this?”

Within a few minutes, he asked God’s forgiveness as we prayed.

“We were supposed to be sitting beside each other on this flight,” I said soothingly.

“Yes…,” he said as he took in a deep breath.

Some time passed as he regained his composure.

“Can I ask you something?  Why did you reveal this to me, of all people?”

“Because, after listening to you, I knew you were safe,” he responded.

Looking back at the feelings that I had as I spoke with this man, I knew it was the moment…it was the moment I knew I had totally forgiven the person who had abused me…  I felt no anger or malice, only pity, then total compassion.  That’s why he thought I was safe…