They saw it, but turned a blind eye.

Why do people turn their back when they see that you're hurting?

It was in the middle of a Norwegian lesson. We were sitting at our desks and listening to our teacher Karianne, when she suddenly stopped, and looked at me. There, in front of the whole class, she asked:

-Why are you so sad, Liv?

-Anton said that you are always so sad. (Anton was one of my classmates.)

-Are you?

I froze, and before I could even think, I lied:

-I am not. I am not sad.

I hoped it sounded convincing.

She looked at me, pausing for a second as if she was thinking what to say next, but instead she turned her attention back to teaching as if nothing had happened. I felt relieved that she accepted my lie.

If she only knew…

Was it really so obvious, that others could see it?

Why did she ask me in front of the class? If she had approached me alone, maybe I would have told her, but that never happened.

This was a really tough blow for me. I was supposed to be happy. To be a light for Jesus to my peers. The truth was that, yes, I was truly happy to follow Jesus, but the weight of all the trouble at home, was a very heavy burden for a young teenager to carry all alone.

And being singled out in front of my classmates, just added more weight to that burden.

I struggled with thoughts in my mind, that I was such a bad representative for Jesus. After all, no one would want to become a Christian when they looked at sad Liv.

Maybe it was best that I left Jesus, so that I would not be a hinder for others?

I struggled and struggled with this, until, one day, I just couldn’t continue. I was sitting on a bench in a shopping center thinking about it. My father was a backslider, and I was all alone in my family as a Christian, and now I was considering becoming a backslider too.

But there in the shopping center, at a bench, I made my decision:

No I will not give up, no matter how hard it is!

Even if I will be the only Christian in my family for the rest of my life, still I will follow Jesus!

The heavy weight on my shoulders fell off. The decision was made. It was final. I would walk on the narrow road, and I would never look back.

So did life get easier?

Not yet.

Living with a malicious mother was not easy at all.

I tried to be home as little as possible. It was peaceful when Karen wasn’t home, but when she was, it was like walking on eggshells. When would her next outburst of wrath come? I never knew.

A young person doesn’t always think about asking for help. Certainly I didn’t . But I did tell some of my friends a little here and a little there.

Heidi was such a friend.

-Do you want to talk to the youth pastor about it?, she asked me.

I wasn’t sure. My trust level wasn’t very high, but before I could stop her she had told him, and he came up to me and asked me:

-I hear you have a tough time at home. Do you want to talk about it?

I wasn’t too keen, but it was too late to say no, so I followed after him to a room together with 3-4 of my closest friends. The room was empty with only some chairs stacked to a wall. He put the chairs in a circle, and we sat down.

With all eyes on me, I told how mean Karen was to me. It wasn’t long before the tears came. I couldn’t stop it, and I cried and cried while I tried to talk through the sobbing.

He nodded understandingly while he listened, sometimes commenting and shaking his head. My friends listened too.

For the first time in my life I had some hope. Hope that an adult would help me. That he would get Karen to stop yelling at me every day. After all, my youth pastor was a kind Christian. Surely he could do something..

When I was finished, he bowed his head and closed his eyes. He prayed a prayer for me, and when he said amen, he stood up and… …that was it.

My expectations were in free fall. Was there nothing more he would do? Was this all?

As we left the room, he gave me a clap on my shoulder and walked away.

Yes, that was all!

I really appreciated prayers, but I needed more than that.

Please, can someone get her to stop being a devil?

Next time I met him, I felt so embarrassed. It was like showing someone my open wound - and all they did was looking at it, and then walk away.

If I hadn’t lied to my teacher, maybe she would have done something. But I was too scared to tell the truth in front of the class.

So really, I had lots of adult people around me that certainly noticed something was very wrong, like neighbors, teachers and relatives.

But there was one family in particular that was very close to me. A family that I looked to as my second family. One that really knew what was going on;

The Larsen family.

A family that I visited so much I could almost have been their sixth child. Mr and Mrs Larsen had been friends with my parents since before I was born, and their daughter Rebekka was my best friend.

They surely knew, even though I never said anything to them about Karen’s abuse before the summer of 1992, when I was 18 years old.

I asked Mrs. Larsen if I could stay with them that summer because I didn’t want to live in the same house as Karen anymore.

During that summer I told Mrs. Larsen how Karen had attacked me physically just a few weeks before which resulted in a painful bump in my head and even worse, a hurting soul.

She suggested that I should write a letter to Karen and tell her how I felt about it.

And that was all.

Why didn’t she and her husband do anything?

Didn’t they care?

I could not understand.

But as I grew older I realized that the reason that the Larsen family and others didn’t do anything, was pretty obvious.

They would rather protect their backs, and be friends with Karen - then to help ending the abuse.

Like we read in the Bible, in the famous story about the good Samaritan, where both the priest and the Levit turned a blind eye to the beaten wayfarer, and walked on.

Jesus doesn’t want us to be as the Larsen family and others, that turned a blind eye to the abuse they very well knew was going on.

He wants us to be as the good Samaritan, and help the people that suffers abuse, even though this will not make us popular with the abuser.

But when others failed, there was One who cared…

One night as I lay in my bed and felt very sad, I tried to fall asleep and had already closed my eyes.

My bedroom door was slightly open, and the light in the hallway was shining through the opening, so it wasn’t completely dark.

There with my eyes closed, I could see this angel coming in to me. I could only see his contour and he didn’t light up the room either. He quietly came up to me and sat down at my bedside. Gently he stroke my forehead and the peace I felt was a peace that was like nothing of this world. I cannot explain this peace, except God’s peace is free from fear, and it passes all human understanding.

I noticed him leaving again, and I slept peacefully as a child.

God cared, and He wanted to show me that.

---

I am so thankful that God cares and helps us.

But that does not mean that we should not do our part.

Contrary, we should not turn a blind eye - but be as the good Samaritan, and help people that suffers abuse.

You know, just a small thing like if Mrs. Larsen had asked Karen why I looked so sad, could have meant a world of difference.

Karen would have known that others had noted that something was going on, and would have thought twice before abusing.

Instead, by turning a blind eye, the people around me emboldened Karen to continue.

We should not be like that - We should do as Jesus told us, and help the abused.

-Liv

(In the interest of fairness I should add that the Larsen family for a period in my life did help me with some practical things, like a place to stay for the summer, which I appreciated a lot.)