From Trauma to Triumph: Breaking Down “Just a Baby”
In my last post, we explored how forgiveness is an act of self-liberation, the ultimate spiritual transaction that sets you free. But before you can extend forgiveness, you have to do the painful work of digging in to the roots of your trauma. You have to ask the hard questions: What happened? Why was I hurt?
My poem, “Just a Baby,” from Phoenix Rising is that exact moment of digging. It’s the raw, unfiltered articulation of the wound, a necessary step before healing and, eventually, peace. It is the sound of the victim in us crying out, but ending with the voice of the survivor.
The Cry for Rescue: Confronting the Monster
“Just a Baby” captures the terror of a child facing overwhelming betrayal and abuse, alone and unheard. The poem immediately strips away the adult perspective to voice the essential helplessness of the trauma.
It starts with an immediate sense of betrayal by those who were supposed to be safe:
“You should be pushing daisies / For driving me so crazy / Oh, my auntie / My mommy / My wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
The phrase “My wolf in sheep’s clothing” names the most damaging aspect of generational trauma: the people offering love and protection are the very ones inflicting the pain. This poem confronts the truth that the betrayal was not by a stranger, but by family.
The physical and emotional threat is represented by a powerful, visceral image: “There was a monster on top of me / Somebody save me / I’m just a baby.” This monster isn’t just a nightmare; it’s the embodiment of the abuse, the fear, and the helplessness that makes the young voice cry out.
This desperate cry for help mirrors the ancient spiritual anguish found in the Psalms:
Scripture: Psalm 22:11 “Be not far from me, for trouble is near, and there is none to help.”
Deeper Meaning: This scripture validates the feeling of absolute abandonment when trust is broken by loved ones. The child’s cry for “Somebody save me” is a universal spiritual lament, the cry for a rescuer when every human safety net has failed.
The Spiritual Wound of Hypocrisy and Judgment
The wound of trauma is made exponentially worse when it is inflicted by those claiming faith. The cruelty of the situation, having love and protection disguised as abuse, is met by the fiercest divine warning.
There is no ambiguity in the spiritual law regarding the treatment of children. The righteous rage felt by the betrayed child is validated by Jesus’s own words, which condemn the act of causing a child to sin or stumble:
Scripture: Matthew 18:6 “But whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to sin, it would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were drowned in the depth of the sea.”
Deeper Meaning: This scripture highlights the severity of the sin committed against a child. The imagery of the millstone, a massive stone used to grind grain, symbolizing a crushing spiritual debt, is the ultimate pronouncement of divine justice. It assures the survivor that their anger at the injustice is not wrong; it is aligned with a higher, uncompromised moral code. This spiritual truth grants the survivor the permission to acknowledge the profound moral breach that occurred.
The poem lays this cruelty bare:
“Oh, auntie is a Christian, did I mention? / So sad, too bad. Guess it made you mad that I reported ‘Dad’ / I don’t know this world. Please be my guide. I’m lost, don’t leave me here to die.”
The very people who claim a path of righteousness are the ones causing the pain, leaving the child feeling like a “lamb to slaughter.” The moral betrayal is affirmed by the New Testament:
Scripture: Matthew 7:15 (The Warning Against False Prophets) “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.”
Deeper Meaning: This proves that the “wolf in sheep’s clothing” is an ancient danger. Your feeling of spiritual betrayal is a sign of your own moral clarity and your refusal to accept that lie.
The Ultimate Transaction: “I Saved Me”
In my previous blog, we talked about how forgiveness breaks the spiritual chain. But the chain is physically broken by an act of courage. This is where “Just a Baby” moves from a cry for rescue to a testament of survival.
The final stanza shifts the narrative entirely. The victim’s voice is replaced by the survivor’s resolve:
“I was just 16 I went to a teacher and said set me free… The social worker didn’t believe me / But I made cps see… I was just a baby. / I saved me.”
This is the turning point: the moment of self-rescue. I realized that the rescue I begged for wasn’t coming from outside; it had to come from within. I didn’t wait for a savior; I became my own.
This moment of finding my voice at 16, of reporting the truth despite disbelief, is the first, most fundamental step toward the forgiveness we discussed. You cannot forgive from a place of continued victimhood. You must first stand up, assert your truth, and get yourself to safety. Only then can the true work of heart healing begin.
The poem concludes not with a plea, but with a statement of fact and empowerment: “I saved me.”
The Bridge to Peace: Transforming the Wound
If our first blog was about the destination (Forgiveness and freedom), this analysis of “Just a Baby” reveals the rugged road map. The intense pain described in the poem is the very fire that forged the wisdom and resilience necessary to break the cycle. By standing up, I took back my own power, ensuring that the legacy of those who acted as a “wolf in sheep’s clothing” would not touch my future or my child.
The freedom I found through forgiveness was possible only because I first found the courage to:
- Name the wound: Articulating the trauma, no matter how ugly.
- Rescue the child: Taking physical and spiritual responsibility for my own safety.
- End the cycle: Refusing to let the trauma define my heart.
If you are on your path to forgiveness, remember the journey begins by giving your past self a voice. Let your pen be the first one to listen, just as mine did when writing “Just a Baby.” Once you have saved that inner child, you will have the strength to extend compassion to the broken people of the past and finally set yourself free.
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