Eve’s Wound

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“Am I lovely?” a little girl often wonders,
“and does my beauty fill you with delight?”
“Will you save me?” a little girl often questions,
“and fight for me with all your strength and might?”
But all she hears is a piercing silence,
that wounds her soul and breaks her heart apart.
So then she builds a fortress made of darkness,
and lives in it until her soul departs.

“Every woman can tell you about her wound; some came with violence, others came with neglect. Just as every little boy is asking one question, every little girl is, as well. But her question isn’t so much about her strength. No, the deep cry of a little girl’s heart is, Am I lovely? Every woman needs to know that she is exquisite and exotic and chosen. This is core to her identity, the way she bears the image of God. Will you pursue me? Do you delight in me? Will you fight for me? And like every little boy, she has taken a wound as well. The wound strikes right at the core of her heart of beauty and leaves a devastating message with it: No. You’re not beautiful and no one will really fight for you. Like your wound, hers almost always comes at the hand of her father.

A little girl looks to her father to know if she is lovely. The power he has to cripple or to bless is just as significant to her as it is to his son. If he’s a violent man he may defile her verbally or sexually. The stories I’ve heard from women who have been abused would tear your heart out. Janet was molested by her father when she was three; around the age of seven he showed her brothers how to do it. The assault continued until she moved away to college. What is a violated woman to think about her beauty? Am I lovely? The message is, No … you are dirty. Anything attractive about you is dark and evil. The assault continues as she grows up, through violent men and passive men. She may be stalked; she may be ignored. Either way, her heart is violated and the message is driven farther in: you are not desired; you will not be protected; no one will fight for you. The tower is built brick by brick, and when she’s a grown woman it can be a fortress.”– John Eldredge

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