Stronger....

I love Hemingway.  What a man of wisdom.  What a man of wisdom born of hardship.  Bless him for all he has given us.  I first heard this quote about an hour ago.  I was at a luncheon for Dawson Place, a child advocacy center and the place where I am privileged to work. 

Dawson Place is a physical building that houses offices for multiple agencies, all with the express purpose of helping our children.  Children who have been caught in the web of abuse and neglect.  Children who otherwise would struggle to have a voice.  That voice is found within the walls of Dawson Place.  Residing in those walls are child interview specialists with two lovely therapy dogs named Harper and Lucy, people who staff the Providence Intervention Center for Assault and Abuse (PICAA) including Victim Advocates, Compass health offering mental health assessments, Snohomish County Sheriff's office and their Special Investigations Unit, the Special Assault Unit of the Snohomish County Prosecuting Attorney's office, and last but certainly not least, the Department of Social and Health Services - Children's Administration.

What all these agencies do, in a word, is collaborate with each other to catch perpetrators who prey on children.  To help put those children back together again.  To listen to them, document their story, mend their precious souls.  To make them stronger in their broken places.

I fit into the puzzle as a Forensic Nurse Examiner.  I meet these children, and adults too, as part of my role working for PICAA.  Most often these individuals present to the emergency room and I am paged to come and do a forensic medical exam.  A lot of what I do is like a crime scene investigator with an eye towards catching any medical problems along the way.  Here's the catch.  The crime scene is the bodies of these children.  A huge number of my patients either are too young to tell their story, or too traumatized and broken to explain what's been going on.  My challenge is to, within a short amount of time, build enough rapport with the child that they will allow me to examine them, and work to put the pieces of the puzzle together to provide law enforcement and prosecutors with enough evidence to press charges.  It's a daunting task.  Especially when every fiber of my being wants to wrap these young ones up in a soft cozy blanket and take them home with me where nothing bad will ever happen to them again.  But their best hope in justice lies in my absolute objectivity.  This doesn't meant that I can't proceed slowly and with every ounce of compassion within me, but I have to stay on task and be very thorough in what I do.  But what a cause to get behind!  To be able to put into a file what these vulnerable children could or would never tell anyone. The rest of my job description lies in the court room.  When and if my cases go to court, I am called upon to testify what I found in my exam and what the patient said to me.

I am new to this role.  I am learning every day how to be better at my job. There is so much to know.  So many things to be precise at. My goal is to produce iron clad cases where protocols and chains of custody are upheld to the letter of the law, so nothing will get thrown out in court.  It's a huge responsibility.  Thank the Lord I don't have to walk into those exam rooms without Him.

Today was a first for me.  This is only the second annual fundraiser that Dawson Place has thrown.  I didn't know what to expect.  I showed up a few minutes early and soon found the rest of my coworkers milling around and chatting.  We had formal pictures taken of our team, and then found our seats for the meal.  Several dignitaries got up to talk and tell the history of Dawson Place.  I looked around the room at over 500 people who believed in giving children a voice.  These people were everyone who is anyone in the county.  It was incredibly impressive.  It was such an honor to belong to this group who so passionately and tirelessly works to make sure no child falls through the cracks.

Then the keynote speaker approached the lectern.  This man works as a Prosecuting Attorney for the Special Assault Unit.  I expected a few words and a thank you for all you are doing.  Nope. This man had a story to tell.  After greeting the attendees he said a simple sentence. "I am Alex's big brother. Of all the things I may ever accomplish in this life, that is the one title of which I am most proud."  He went on to tell the story of he and his little sister Alex.  About how their early years were marked with abuse and neglect due to their father's use of alcohol and drugs, and domestic violence towards them and their mother.  About how at the age of 8 and 5, he and Alex were thrown into the foster system after being taken away by CPS.  About how over the years they were taken back by their mother as she tried to get her footing and when she failed, they would be put back into the system.  During this time, he paused, his little sister endured years of sexual abuse, both in the foster system, and at the hands of the many boyfriends drifting through his mother's life.  He told of how absolutely helpless he felt.  He and Alex didn't speak of what was going on, he didn't know what to do as a young boy.  He just felt so helpless, so hopeless.

Time went on, both kids were finally relinquished by their mother and put up for adoption.  Both were finally adopted and have gone on to make amazing things out of their lives....in spite of.  He became a prosecuting attorney, holding the very types of people that perpetrated such horror in his young sister's life, accountable for their crimes.  His sister works for an agency that helps foster kids navigate through the myriad of agencies available to help them.  Amazing. Near the end of his speech, as he proudly told the audience that at great odds, his sister had prevailed against her past, he announced that she was there among us.  She stood and faced the audience with tears streaming down her face.  "This woman has been the only thing in my life that has been a constant.  I love her with  my whole heart and soul." He said after a pause.

"What if?" He continued. "What if there had been a Dawson Place 33 years ago when my sister and I really needed one.  What if there had been experts to immediately spot a situation that housed a vulnerable young person, and threw all their resources at keeping them safe and ushering them out of that environment?"

I have the privilege of being a little sister.  During this whole speech my thoughts were constantly on my big brother.  My brother has spent a large part of his time and life showing me his love and protection.  My husband knew that he had some pretty big shoes to fill when he met my brother and passed the Boyfriend Test.  Every other boy/man that I had attempted to date had somehow found themselves having a little get-to-know-you chat with my brother.  Usually while he was either cleaning one of his guns, or casting his own bullets.  Sometimes my fledgling relationships only lasted a matter of weeks.  I would fling myself on my brother's bed in adolescent heart break.  He would be strangely silent but always compassionate.  Come to think of it, it's a wonder I ever got married!! :)

I don't even know if my brother fully comprehends what his interest and protection during those growing up years meant to me.  He and I have been through some pretty daunting times, when the only person we had was each other.  There are some pretty strong ties that are forged through times like that.  I would walk through a fire for that man.  I would gladly lay my life down for him.  

I saw that sentiment mirrored today in the speaker.  His love, admiration, and respect for his sister was the cornerstone in his speech and his life's work.  He left us with the Hemingway quote I have included above.  There are multitudes of people out there with broken places.  It doesn't take a physical building with multiple agencies housed inside to help heal those broken places.

A broken bone is stronger where it has been broken.  The body concentrates all its bone healing magic at that very spot and it's a rarity for any bone to break at the same place twice.

What if we, as ordinary people, went out of our way to help other ordinary people manage their broken places?  It's in all of us to do so.  I believe that God puts compassion in each of our hearts.  The more we respond to his promptings, the more often he prompts us, and the bigger tasks he gives us.  Promptings can take the form of "See that woman struggling with a loaded grocery cart?  Go help her!" or "See that man shivering on the street corner? Take him a cup of coffee!" Or it can be taking a few extra minutes to listen between the lines when a loved one calls out of the blue just to chat.  Listen, look, be aware of the broken places.  They are everywhere.  It doesn't take extraordinary acts to start the healing process.  It just takes a person to be looking for them.  

My new mantra is this.  I am going to post it in many different places.  I think Hemingway was really on to something.  Here is my creed. "Making people stronger in the broken places."  Join me?

Make it a great day.



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