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Child abuse stories: they both challenge and sicken me. 

I'm torn between compassion and judgement, anger and mercy, and all the while I shudder at how many lives are changed, often irrevocably damaged, in one instant by one terrible choice. 

 For some it's the same heinous, misguided, well-rationalized choice over and over again.

 I scratch my head at all the poor choices I've made, and loved ones have made, that really did make sense at the time. And I imagine that these individuals — all somebody's baby at one time, all full of potential at one time — probably thought their decisions made perfect sense, too. 

 So what sets us apart? If all sins are equally reviling in the sight of God, what sets us apart from the child molester, the spouse-abuser, the porn-heroin-alcohol-gambling-addicted person? Whose misguided decisions are more unforgivable?

Maybe that's the lesson: compassion. 

I hate what they did, but the fact is, at some point a mama looked in her baby's eyes and dreamed a world of good for them. This is how they turned out. Who's heart remains unbroken?

 I can't get sucked into their evil. But I can't turn my back on their humanity.
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