The woman’s tired, watery eyes grabbed my eyes with a ferocity that contradicted my assumptions. “You are my miracle,” she whispered with a voice so powerful it shook my soul. Her grey head shook slightly as she nodded an exclamation point.
This woman had survived such horrific abuse that the very fact she was sitting in front of me was, itself, miraculous and she was calling me her miracle.
I have “officially” been working with survivors of domestic violence since February, but I have “worked” with survivors for two years. I know that advocates have an enormous responsibility, but yesterday, I literally came face to face with the reality of it.
And, I was humbled.
And frightened.
What if I fail?
The process of leaving an abuser can be the most dangerous point of a survivor’s journey.
It is also when she is most frightened and vulnerable, angry and frustrated, sad and lonely, confused and overwhelmed.
And sometimes, it is when she calls my organization.
And sometimes, we can help.
This woman made that call.
This woman, who had left everything, who had left behind her entire life…again.
She called.
And we met.
She was not asking me for resources or contacts or shelter. She was not asking me what she should do or where she should go or how she should get there. Nor did she tell me her story, though she circled slowly around it, each ripple getting a little closer to center.
She just talked.
And I just listened.
And that, to her, was a miracle.
And she felt humbled.
And I realized that I have it all wrong.
A miracle is not determined by the number of people who recognize it. A miracle does not need to be global to be valid.
Moments contain miracles.
Small, personal, individual moments.
Don't let them slip by without being noticed.
12 comments:
There's one a minute, once you notice.
You are the miracle.
Moving from humiliated to humbled is also a miracle. What a blessed journey she had with you as her witness. Ditto Carrie.
I'm am constantly amazed and humbled by the things people survive.
I have experienced your presence, and yes, you are a miracle and a gift.
You must sleep well at night to be doing something so needed and so worthwhile.....
The things we can see with compassionate eyes.
Lucky woman to have met you.
What a beautiful post. And the fact that you are both humbled and frightened by the stewardship of your job makes you the perfect person for it.
“You are my miracle,” she whispered with a voice so powerful it shook my soul. Her grey head shook slightly as she nodded an exclamation point.
I am moved by the story and every bit as much by the words you use to tell it.
Beautiful post.
Oh so true!
Being able to help someone else is indeed a miracle.
I ran a domestic violence shelter and while it was the most dangerous job I ever had, it was also the most rewarding albeit heartbreaking.
That woman's life stopped in its tracks and then began to turn ever so slowly in a new direction under your compassionate gaze. You changed a life today, and that cannot help but change your own, too.
We all have the power to be each other's miracles, but too often we let opportunities pass. You humble me because you don't.
WOW. I'm so happy you were able to acknowledge it.
Post a Comment