| Close to the Brokenhearted
 
 Former victim of domestic violence counsels both the abused and their
            abusers.
 
 
 
 
               
 
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                | At the center where Murphy
                    first sought domestic abuse counseling, she counsels a woman,
                    her granddaughter and her grandson (right photo). 
 |  |  NANCY MURPHY ’90 WAS a divorced mother
              of three — and
              all four were living out of her car — when she first heard
              the words “domestic violence.” In a class at Seattle
              Pacific University, a guest speaker described the continuum of
              violence in a relationship. The scale began with subtle put-downs
              and pinching. It progressed to pushing, kicking and hitting, eventually
              ending with murder-suicide. As Murphy recalls, “I looked
              at those behaviors and felt confused. I raised my hand and announced, ‘All
              those things have happened to me in my marriage, except the last
              one — murder-suicide — but I’m not a battered
              woman.’”
 Her classmates laughed aloud at the contradiction. But the speaker
              looked at Murphy and asked, “All those things happened to
              you?” When she nodded, the speaker’s eyes filled with
              tears. Keeping eye contact, the speaker simply said, “I’m
              sorry.”
 
 The two met for lunch after class that day, and Murphy learned
              more about the cycle of domestic violence. “For the first
              time,” she
              says, “I was given a name for my most painful experiences
              as a married woman.” Today, she is president of the Global
              Institute on Violence and Exploitation, and the executive director
              of Seattle’s Northwest Family Life Learning and Counseling
              Center, a private organization that helps both victims of domestic
              violence and offenders find healing. It is the same center where
              she first went as a client, a victim of past spousal abuse, in
              1990.
 
 “Finding my voice and being able to put words to my experiences,” says
              Murphy, “has unearthed opportunities.” That’s
              putting it mildly. Within the past two years, she has spoken out
              on issues of domestic violence at the United Nations in New York;
              for the Helsinki Commission in Washington, D.C.; and for the U.S.
              State Department in Warsaw, Poland.
 
 During SPU’s Homecoming Weekend in February, Murphy was given
              the Medallion Award for her work as an advocate for abused women
              and children worldwide. Seattle Pacific Alumni Director Doug Taylor
              notes, “At the awards ceremony, people sensed what great
              Christian humility Nancy has. Some of them were crying as they
              came up after her talk and told her their own stories.”
 
 The international human rights advocate has come a long way, she
              admits, from a tiny town in British Columbia. “Having grown
              up on a remote part of Vancouver Island, accessible only by boat
              or plane,” Murphy says, “this is a bit of a stretch
              for me.” But the truth needs to be uncovered, she says, because
              the problem is so widespread.
 
 According to Murphy, domestic violence is a leading cause of injury
              and death to women worldwide. One in five women around the world
              is physically or sexually abused in her lifetime, and gender violence
              causes more death and disability among women aged 15 to 44 than
              cancer, malaria, car accidents or war.
 
 “Regrettably,” she adds, “the church is not immune
              to this problem.” When Murphy found out at SPU that she had
              been a victim of spousal abuse, she was the Christian daughter
              of a missionary and a nurse. Divorced and living in her car with
            her three young children, she had fled a husband who was increasingly
              violent, but she refused to think that domestic abuse was the issue.
 
 There had to be other explanations. “Domestic violence was
            what happened to ‘other people’ — poor people,
            unsaved people, alcoholics, uneducated people with low self-esteem
            and few
            opportunities,” Murphy rationalized. “I attributed the
            difficulties in our marriage to my own inability to be a ‘perfect’ wife
            or ‘good enough’ woman. I was convinced that something
            was so wrong with me that my husband had no other choice than to
            lash out.”
 
 The following years were spent learning and healing. A community
            of friends took in Nancy and her children. For five years, says Murphy, “They
            encouraged us, provided safety and living space, listened over and
            over to some of the same stories, prayed often, and offered childcare
            and lots of good food and laughter.”
 
 During that time, she worked on her bachelor’s degree at Seattle
            Pacific. Kenneth Tollefson, professor emeritus of anthropology,
            found Murphy to be a great student. “She could take things
            and run with them,” says Tollefson. “When she was going
            to SPU, she was taking care of her kids, getting counseling for herself
            and working at the Indian Cultural Center writing a manual for Native
            Americans on how to adjust to urban life when they got out of jail.
            She was getting and giving at the same time.”
 
 Murphy went on to earn a master’s degree in counseling. In
            1994, she remarried, this time to a “wonderful man and father
            of two,” and became executive director for Northwest Family
            Life. Most of her work at the center focuses on community development,
            training for professionals, and fund raising for a $2 million annual
            budget.
 
 Sometimes, though, Murphy sits down and counsels abusive spouses.
            These male — or, rarely, female — offenders choose counseling
            over jail time. “First,” she says, “I tell them
            how thankful I am that they’ve come, because they are precious
            to us and to God. Then I ask them to tell their whole story.
 
 “They have to plumb the depths of what they’ve done,” she
            says. “For forgiveness to happen, they need to understand
            and take responsibility for the pain they’ve caused. When
            you go to the depths, there’s the process of forgiving yourself,
            too.”
 
 It is one thing to help those who are victims of domestic abuse,
            but it is a much different thing to help hold accountable and bring
            restoration to those who are the offenders. To explain why she has
            not run as far as possible from domestic abusers but prays with them
            instead, Murphy says, “If ‘God is close to the broken-hearted,’ then
            I want to be close to the broken-hearted. That way, I won’t
            be too far away from God.”
 
 Editor’s Note: For more information about services and
            volunteer opportunities offered by Northwest Family Life Learning
            and Counseling
            Center, call 206/363-9601 or visit .
  — BY BY MARGARET D. SMITH — PHOTOS BY 
 
            JIMI LOTT
 
  
 
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