Carolyn Winfrey Gillette

The Remnant of the Fury Will Not Go

The remnant of the fury will not go;
the murmur of unstopping worry stays.
I see the pain my friend will always know;
and she— who never lived her childhood days,
who grew up fast, and broken and confused—
once told me what it’s like to be abused.

She carries weight beyond her strength to bear—
the guilt, at being told it was her fault,
the secrecy that led her to despair,
confusion when a perpetrator, caught—
A “man of God”— became the one relieved
While she who cried for help was disbelieved.

What boundaries, broken once, can be made right?
Will institutions change and now repent?
Will shame that lived within, just out of sight,
now linger on and stay and build a tent
(unwanted guest!) and make itself at home
while leaders make their poor excuses known?

And what of her and him and her and him
and thousands more whose stories are untold?
Internalizing violence as their sin,
they, too, have struggled, watching life unfold;
What is the remnant that is always near?
O God, have mercy! Bring your healing here.