It is said that the past is the father to the future. History is cyclical and therefore repeats itself.  As an avid student of history I find it sad, that civilization, when left to its own devices, inevitably follows the same predictable patterns of rise and fall throughout the centuries.  The French have a saying- "Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose-"  the more things change, the more they stay the same.  

Unfortunately for people who have endured long-term stress or trauma, the stress response can become an auto-pilot reaction in every situation.  It becomes difficult if not impossible to see and appreciate situations that do not involve stress or trauma without living in fear and anticipation of the next assault.  The light at the end of the tunnel may not be the headlight of an oncoming train...but if it's not, the next one probably will be.  PTSD (my own definition) is the inability to come down out of crisis mode, even when the visible evidence around you would suggest there is no threat.   

I am no psychologist, but I do find it intriguing that the first of Erik Erickson's developmental stages is trust vs. mistrust.  If as a helpless child you can't trust those around you who are supposed to protect you from harm or keep you from being a human punching bag, the world becomes a frightening place full of threats and danger pretty quickly.  Mistrust becomes the default, and trust is very difficult if not impossible to earn. 

In working with animals rescued from abuse (and in currently living with several such rescues in my home) I am amazed that they ever able to come to the point of trust at all, but when they do that trust must be constantly reinforced.  Even years later an incident or person can trigger a memory of abuse that leads to that animal being fearful or losing trust again. Clara, a beautiful and intelligent dog who was beaten, starved, and left to die tied to a fire escape, the first of our rescues, has made tremendous progress in being social with humans over the past four years, but she is still wary of men she does not know and she is still terrified of African-American men, which is very sad.   I would have to agree with Erickson, that if trust isn't built early on it may never be attainable.  If mistrust is aptly learned and reinforced, it is extremely hard to reverse and unlearn.

Dogs tend to recover from the emotional scars of abuse more quickly and completely than do cats in my observations.  One of our cats, Forrest, came to us as a victim of severe abuse by his former owner.  He had been kicked so many times in the head that his jaw had been broken and he had broken teeth.  In order for him to eat normally he required oral surgery to line up his jaw and to position what remained of his teeth.  Forrest was able to eat and drink- though he was messy- and he could not groom himself like a normal cat.  Sadly, even though he lived with us for six years, and we cared for him as best we could, he was not able to move beyond the point of mistrust.  He spent most of his life with us hiding in the basement, fearful of everyone and everything except for Isabel (one of our other cats, who did spend time with him and who tried to keep him groomed) and except for me to a limited degree, and on his terms.  While he had been spared from further physical torment, he never found relief from the emotional and mental wounds of his former life.

Obviously it becomes difficult to function without some degree of trust.  We have to trust that gravity will continue to hold us on to the ground.  Even the most mistrusting of us have to believe the reality we experience via our senses- at least on a basic level. 

I don't make it a habit to trust people.  At best I trust by degrees, which in most circumstances, especially in today's world, could be considered wise.  Ronald Reagan often quoted a Russian proverb, "Trust- but verify."   Even Jesus instructed His followers be as shrewd as serpents, but innocent as doves (Matthew 10:16.)  It's easy for me to expect the worst of people because for much of my life that's been the pattern.   Shrewdness isn't the difficult part of this teaching for me- the innocence is.  Of my own devices and experience I am incapable of the sort of child-like innocence and trust Jesus spoke of.  When I'm operating within the paradigm of "MY will" I not only expect the worst of others, I also tend to dole out the worst myself.  Mercy and understanding are ultimately tied to one's degree of trust.  It is hard to show mercy or understanding to someone you suspect will do you harm.  It is easier to develop an action plan of "do unto others, then run," and to strike first than to take the chance that the other will strike first and inflict harm.

"THY will," what Jesus teaches us, takes the opposite approach.  Jesus says, "love your neighbor as yourself."  Give the benefit of the doubt.  Show mercy.  Be understanding of others' failures and shortcomings, because you have plenty of your own. He is not teaching a milquetoast resignation to abuse, but He does teach intentional submission- putting aside one's own rights or demands for the benefit of another. 

I struggle with this sort of balance, especially in my marriage.   Either I simply throw down the boundaries and revert back to my childhood mindset which was, "anything goes, hope you get bored with beating me soon," or I hole up in the ivory tower, building every wall and defense I can to simply avoid interaction with people altogether.  It's hard to get hurt if you refuse to play the game.  Sometimes I even resort to a sort of self-flagellation (this reminds me of the monks in Monty Python's Quest for the Holy Grail-  chanting and beating themselves in the head with boards) where I beat myself up mentally, so others don't have to.

My husband is not a Christian, and he is also very entrenched in alcohol dependence, smoking and gambling.  I know I am not an easy person to live with or deal with, but he is often verbally and emotionally abusive, especially when he is drunk.  If I were going completely on "MY will," I would have left him long ago- and I would have been sure to get what "I deserved"- child support, alimony, etc, anything I could have gotten.  I would have made his life a living hell in retribution for causing me so much heartache as well as financial loss.  But for some reason- and I struggle with this daily- I stay.  I don't trust him any further than I can throw him.  I gave up on the illusion of romantic love long ago.  I admit I envy women who talk about having a wonderful evening with their husbands, or when they relate a tale of a thoughtful husband who got his own beer out of the fridge, on his own, for himself. 

I honestly don't see anything in my marriage other than maintaining detente, although I know that appeasement only leads to more (and more unreasonable) demands.  Today I am even less hopeful for any glimmer of positive change than usual, having come off of one of his hour and a half long tirades last night because I "ordered the wrong salad."  Far be it from him to consider that when one is picky about food, it might be a good idea to at least call in your own order to ensure you get what you want.   It's easier for him to just blame me.

In all fairness, Jerry has his good points- especially in his compassion for animals, which I share.  But I think as twisted as it sounds I find a bizarre sort of comfort and familiarity in being subject to his emotional abuse and his irrational and/or drunken tirades.  My mother has an extensive history of depressive disorders as well as an explosive temper.  She could and would beat you any time and anywhere for the most trivial of childhood lapses.  My father is also extremely volatile (their forty + year marriage is characterized by constant verbal tirades, arguments over really stupid things, and just plain conflict) and I grew up in between their arguments and my sisters' free for all slugfests and other various tortures such as having live stinging insects thrown in my hair. 

While I may feel "at home" in the midst of verbal abuse and other assorted turmoil I know it isn't normal and it isn't right.  I don't see what the will of God is in this and often I wonder what He would have me do.  Should I scream back?  Should I leave and go for what "I'm entitled to," or should I just endure the status quo?  At this time in my life "MY will" would be to run and go live alone for the rest of my days, but everytime I think of that option I remember the story of Jonah.  Even though he tried to run in the opposite direction he ended up- via a rather unpleasant journey- back in Nineveh to do what God told him to do anyway.   As much as I would wish it, running is not an option, at least not now, and maybe not ever.  I don't quite know how I know that, but I do.  If God says "Nineveh," I can either agree with Him and say, "THY will be done," or I can try to run out the back way only to discover that was the harder way after all.

The hardest answer to prayer is "wait," and while I cannot move God's hand, it would be nice if I couid understand why I was subjected an hour and a half of insults and screaming nonsense over a salad that didn't have quite enough meat on it.  All I was trying to do was to get him some dinner like he asked me to. 

I find it interesting that in many courthouses Justice is depicted as a blindfolded lady holding a scales.  While Lady Justice is an icon from mythology, there are two important lessons to be gotten from that depiction.  Ideally justice is blind (doesn't see or respect influence or rank) and justice is balanced.  We don't normally dole out the death penalty for speeding, even in Ohio.  The dispensation of justice (at least in the earthly kingdom) is supposed to be impartial as well as appropriate to the severity of the crime. 

In God's economy of justice we have all fallen short (Romans 3:23) and the apostle James takes it one step further- if we have violated even one teeny-tiny part of the law we are guilty of violating all of it (James 2:10.) 

I know many times in my life I have wondered where justice was- where was justice when my four year old niece was killed?  Where is justice in children suffering from malnutrition or cancer or abuse?  Where is justice for the millions of victims of genocide?  The list of injustice and tragedy and pain goes on and on.  In the Psalms we see the entire breadth and depth of human experience, but blatant senseless injustice and unfairness is still soul-rending even with the knowledge that even in the valley of the shadow Jesus walks and weeps with us.  I know I wonder why God in His omnipotence doesn't just step in and intervene.  I wonder why He doesn't operate as the deus ex machina in the adventure story who saves the hero from plummeting to certain death at the last minute.
 
Then I remember that while He created humanity, and we in turn created the machine, He is not, like us, limited to its parameters.  God is not confined to my box, and that is a good thing.

I do get encouragement from Scripture, and like the geek I am I probably read and intellectualize way too much for anyone's tastes but mine.  Many nights in loneliness and despair I have had no other alternative but to trust God's promise for an unloved wife-  a promise that is equally valid for geeky, nearsighted and badly dressed little girls who are routinely thrown in the bushes-