Turning a Planked Eye

So I can’t calm down about this Penn State horror story. I alternate between wanting to throw up and go beat someone up. Without actually doing either. I’m outraged–of course–that child-molesting and child-raping monsters roam this earth. But someone, right now, my outrage is fueled by the people who cover-up their crimes and enable this to happen.

I’m nothing short of steeped in anger at Mike McQueary–a then-assistant, now coach–who SAW boy being raped but who apparently didn’t stop it. Didn’t call 9-1-1. Sure, he told someone–which was good and more perhaps than others would do or have done–but I’m trying to wrap my brain around walking in on a child, hands up against a shower wall, being raped and then simply leaving.

Did he not want to get wet? Was he too afraid the rapist would have a go at him? Did he not want to lose his job? Who knows. I suppose at least he did something. But not enough.

The level of judgment rushing through me toward this guy is higher than I can remember it ever being. I’m so appalled, so angry, so questioning his very humanity.

Which means I’m also trying to block the thoughts that shoot into my brain when I get super judge-y–those rather annoying words of Jesus about taking the log out of our own eyes before seeing the specks in another. Ugh.

While I have never witnessed a crime like this and simply excused myself before walking out, while I do, actually, make a point to warn women about predator men I know, while I have called the cops on cars driving too fast down our kid-infested street, there’s a lot I ignore. So much I turn a rather blind eye toward.

How many millions of girls and boys right now are being raped, trafficked? What am I doing to stop it? How many people are suffering injustices, starving, hurting, wondering where there help will come from? All while I simply go about my life. Too afraid to get wet. Too afraid of getting hurt.

I may not be protecting football at Penn State, but I am protecting something else. My own livelihood. In a sense.

May God help me. May God help us all. To become people who shine light into the dark. Who are never afraid to step in and stop atrocities. Who are never afraid to do the right thing. No matter what the cost.

And may we never turn our eyes–planked or plank-free–away from the needs of this world.



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