On Crying Under the Covers

This is really, really good. Talks in a real way about making our way through our lives, with God’s leading often unseen.


Weirdest Job I Ever Had? – Joining the Nightmare Club

The weirdest job I ever had?  Oh, that one’s easy.  And the answer to that question is also the reason that this blog, which is supposed to be about currency trading, is littered with posts about rape, sexual abuse, and human trafficking.

As a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed 20-something, I became, of all things, a rape crisis counselor.  I left after only one year (which was, truth be told, a good 8 months more than I could bear it), a borderline drug addict and alcoholic.  I applaud, continually and forever, people like my co-worker, Susan, who can do something like that as a career, but I sure as hell don’t know how they manage it.  Susan once said to me, “You can’t take this job home with you” – to which I replied, “I don’t take it home – it just hunts me down there and breaks in every night”.

I’m convinced – 110% convinced – that rape is absolutely the worst horror in the world that someone can suffer.  Yeah, it’s worse than murder, because if you’re fortunate enough to get murdered, then you don’t have to worry about being tortured by nightmares and flashbacks the rest of your life.  (And the nightmares of rape victims are the absolute worst nightmares – oh yeah, they win that undesirable competition hands down.)  I wouldn’t say it’s worse than torture, because it IS torture, but it’s the worst kind of torture.  Trust me, you’d rather have your fingernails torn out one by one, and pretty much every bone in your body broken instead.

One thing you don’t do as a rape counselor – well, if you’re an honest one anyway – is ever tell your clients they’re going to be “all right”, because, well, that’s just a lie. Yes, rape victims can reasonably have every hope of being “okay”, of being relatively “normal”, functioning people – they can even be happy (there’s a miracle for you).  But no, I’ve never known one who was truly “ALL right”.  Rape leaves a psychological scar that no amount of psychiatric plastic surgery can ever make vanish completely.  No, as far as being “all right”, I’m afraid that, for rape victims, that wonderful fantasy land lies only beyond this life, at the place where God promises that He will “wipe away every tear” and “make all things new”.  Maybe I’m wrong about that – I hope to Christ I am – maybe they can be completely healed this side of Paradise…but I kinda doubt it.

Pimps are the lowest form of life on earth – the kind of people that you pump 10 more bullets into after they’re already dead, because you just don’t feel like you can kill them dead enough.  Just barely above or below them are people who sexually molest children.

Enough, I can’t even talk about this any more right now.  I’ll just conclude with this: You would not go wrong if every morning and every night, and a couple of times in between, you sent a prayer Heavenward for all the victims of sexual assault, and prayed especially for the rescue of those trapped in human trafficking.