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Deliver Me From Evil Series



It was an unspoken rule in our home, what was said, seen, or done, in the house remained in the house. Grumma worshipped at the little Pentecostal church down the street faithfully, but as her health began to fade she could no longer walk that short stretch of road from her home to the Church of God.

Her pastor was a gentle elderly man, raising his two grandchildren on his own.  For some strange reason my memories can’t recall his facial features or even his physical make-up.  But what I can remember is that he would come to visit with Grumma often, and whenever he would come, he would bring his grandchildren.

He had one girl and one boy, I can’t recall who was the oldest and who was the youngest, but I do recall they were close in age to me and the momma’s boy.  It was fun to play with someone other than my siblings, day in and day out.  It was glorious. The granddaughter of this wise old pastor became my best friend and dearest friend.  The grandson was a nuisance, always trying to sneak a kiss.  Yuck.

Besides the fact that I couldn’t have been no more than five or six years old at the time, he smelled like stale corn chips.  But one dark day as we were playing a rousing game of hide and seek, he wanted more than a kiss.  He wanted me to do what grown ups do.

He backed me to the wall of the chicken coop and rubbed his genitals against mine.  I did what any normal child my age would do, when faced with such a dilemma, I bite him, right in his cheek and ran off to finish our game.  No one was ever the wiser.

But now I was 9.  I had developed into what the older generation would have called a blossoming flower.  I didn’t have much packing, but what I did have was shapely, so much so that it caught the attention of a male relative.  I was molested repeatedly for a period of three years.

My predator knew that I was not beloved of my mother and so did I.  I was also aware that such a secret would crush my father’s heart, and he had his hands full with living with my mother.  And it was that knowledge that became his stronghold over my life, holding me captive, for all those years.

Yet, for some reason I felt within me that my mother knew all these things were occurring in her home, perhaps she never said anything, either, because she did not want to disturb the atmosphere, her marriage, her position in the community amongst her peers, her family, who knew.

Yes, the deed was sickening to the thought, yet enticing to the body, and damaging to the mind.  The acts are too vulgar for me to describe and the pain too hard for me to express in words.  It’s best to leave it that way.  But over time, I longed to be free of this person, but who would I trust to confide in.

I thought about telling, but I would in vision my mother’s tirade of fury, blaming me for the family’s break-up, embarrassment, and shame.  The humiliation alone would destroy what was left of me.  So, I did what most girls that age would do when face with a secret so horrendous.  I tried to kill myself.

Tune in next month for the continuation of  “Deliver Me From Evil” Series.



judy washington

Judy Washington, Spiritual Counseling Director and Co-founder of the Christian Counseling and Wellness Center for Women, has over 20 years of experience in mental health counseling, counselor training and consulting. Her teaching and interests include life structuring, career and education counseling, spirituality and mental health, integrated with prolific teachings based in theology and spirituality.

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