Spiritual Abuse – Part 3

In the 2000 movie “Cast Away,” Tom Hanks plays Chuck Noland, a real-life systems engineer for FedEx. In a terrible storm, Noland’s plane is blown far off course where it crashes at sea and he alone survives. Castaway on a deserted island, he faces the rigors of survival and the ever-dwindling hope of rescue.

  

But with high tide comes a glimpse of hope. FedEx packages from the crash wash onto the shore. Inside, Noland finds a volleyball and a pair of ice skates. Both become essential to his survival and are used in ways so different from their original design.

The ice skates become the Swiss Army knife of Noland’s four-year ordeal, giving him the ability to crack coconuts, cut vegetation, and build shelter. When he accidentally cuts his hand, a bloody handprint is deposited on the volleyball. Later, consumed by his desperate loneliness and dwindling hope of rescue, Noland notices his own handprint on the volleyball. Slowly the volleyball becomes his imaginary friend whom he names “Wilson.” From that point on, “Wilson” becomes Noland’s friend and confidant.

Noland creates a crude raft but is blown back by the wind and the breakers. Four years later, after learning the weather patterns, tides, and better raft-building skills, he sets sail for another desperate chance at rescue. With “Wilson” at his side keeping him company through the first few days of relative quiet, all is well. Then a violent storm arises and separates the two. Noland, in a heartbreaking scene, desperately tries to save “Wilson” from being swept away at sea. The need for human contact, for affirmation, for comfort, and for love drive him far beyond the breaking point, and it personifies what those who have been afflicted by abuse feel deep within the crevasses of their soul. When you watch Noland’s struggle, you see and feel the depth of loneliness which occurs when a human being is cut off, isolated, and hopeless.

Finally, Noland’s story reminds me of the ordeal that survivors of abuse endure. The abused child experiences life as a castaway too. They too are lonely and desperate and although they have not had their lives mangled by shipwreck, their birthright of love, safety, tenderness, and compassion has been scuttled by those whose homes, hearts, and lives should have provided safe harbor from the storms of life. Their innocence, which should have been protected even to the point of death, has washed up on the shores of a deserted island, shattered by indifference, drugs, sex, violence, anger, and selfishness. 

Now it's time for us to act, to put our arms around the brokenhearted and listen to their stories and the burdens they share. Like Noland, they may bear the memories of loneliness, despair, and hopelessness. They may rarely speak openly of their own “Wilson” moments—those times when their hearts broke like a porcelain doll, when they cried themselves to sleep, or when they began cutting themselves in a vain attempt to sedate their own heart and mind.

They may feel shame when they remember their struggle and their pain so listen carefully and refrain from quick judgments. Remember that for years I was told that I needed to pray more, read the Bible more, and give more in order to heal, but the reality was that I needed to be loved and listened to with an open, loving and understanding heart.