October arrives clothed in vibrant autumn leaves, but for many women, it marks a solemn call to look behind closed doors. As we observe National Domestic Violence Awareness Month, we dedicate this edition of The Religion Corner for The Washington Informer to a truth that our sanctuaries too often ignore. Abuse within relationships is a quiet epidemic. While it is a reality that some men are abused by women, I must use this specific platform to speak about women of all races and colors. Women are disproportionately the targets of severe, life-threatening intimate terror.
Let us be completely transparent: Men who violate, beat and degrade women are weak. True strength protects; it does not crush. These abusers desperately need deep therapeutic treatment to dig out the roots of the generational traumas that shaped them into the monsters they have allowed themselves to become. Society often makes excuses for them, but Scripture provides no cover for cruelty. Colossians 3:19 commands, “Husbands, love your wives and do not be harsh with them.” When a man uses physical force to control a woman, he is operating in complete opposition to God’s design.
The staggering reality in the Black community: While domestic violence cuts across every racial and socioeconomic line, research highlights devastating racial disparities. Statistics reveal that more than 40% of Black women will experience intimate partner physical violence, sexual violence or stalking in their lifetimes. This crisis is literally a matter of life and death. Nationally, on average, more than three women are killed every single day by a current or former intimate partner.
In the Black community, this lethal violence reaches a boiling point. Black women comprise roughly 14% of the U.S. female population, yet they account for over 31% of all females murdered by males in single-victim incidents. According to annual studies compiled by the Violence Policy Center, Black women are murdered by men at more than twice the rate of white women. Shockingly, 90% of these victims knew their killers, and over half were murdered by current or former husbands or boyfriends.
Who are these abusers? Data consistently points to a cycle. Studies show that men who witnessed domestic violence in their childhood homes are twice as likely to become abusers themselves. They normalize the trauma, mixing it with external factors like socioeconomic stress, substance abuse and untreated mental health crises. They allow generational curses to dictate their behavior instead of seeking deliverance.
My personal exodus from the shadows: I do not write these numbers from a place of detached academic curiosity. I write them as a survivor who knows the terrifying sound of a gasping breath. Years ago, I was married to a former U.S. Marine. He was a man who fought bravely for this country and was physically injured while serving in the Vietnam War. But the battle did not stay in Vietnam; he brought a violent warfare home into our marriage.
Like many combat veterans, he returned home carrying the invisible, heavy chains of severe post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The unresolved trauma, flashbacks and rage of war lived inside our home. Yet, we must speak the truth in love and clarity: while PTSD explains the internal torment an individual experiences, it never excuses or licenses the physical abuse of a spouse. Mental illness and trauma require intensive therapeutic treatment, not the victimhood of a partner.
I will never forget the horror of the many choking episodes. Feeling the hands of the person who is supposed to love and cherish you tighten around your throat, watching the room fade as you fight for oxygen, is a trauma that imprints itself on your very soul. Strangling is one of the highest predictors of future domestic homicide. In those dark moments, I learned that an abuser’s military service, past trauma or physical injuries may explain their brokenness, but they have a responsibility before God to seek healing rather than projecting their war onto those they love. God delivered me from that valley of the shadow of death, and He wants to deliver you, too. Psalm 34:18 reminds us, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
A beacon of hope in the DMV: To every sister reading this who is currently covering up bruises with makeup or making excuses to her pastor about why she “fell down the stairs,” hear me clearly: You are not trapped, and you are not alone.
If you are in the Washington, D.C., Maryland or Virginia (DMV) area, there is a safe haven waiting for you. You can reach out to the House of Ruth, an incredible organization dedicated to providing shelter, counseling and transitional housing for battered women and their children. Their emergency services and advocates are available 24 hours a day, seven days a week, every single day of the year. You can call the House of Ruth D.C. Line at 202-667-7001, or if you are a Maryland resident, you can contact the House of Ruth Maryland Hotline directly at 410-889-7884. They will help you map out a plan for safety without judgment.
Do not let fear silence you. This Friday, Oct. 9, at 6 p.m., we will continue this urgent conversation on “The Lyndia Grant Show: Think on These Things” on Radio One Washington, D.C., SPIRIT 1340 WYCB. My special guest will be Dr. Lynn Strange, a renowned domestic violence expert, survivor and advocate who serves in the Domestic Violence Division of the State’s Attorney’s Office. Together, we will unpack the steps to breaking the cycle, healing from trauma and reclaiming the beautiful life God intended for you. Your survival is your testimony.
Lyndia Grant is a speaker/writer living in the D.C. area. Her radio show, “Think on These Things,” airs Fridays at 6 p.m. on 1340 AM (WYCB), a Radio One station. To reach Grant, go to her website, www.lyndiagrant.com, email lyndiagrantshowdc@gmail.com or call 240-602-6295. Follow her on X @LyndiaGrant and on Facebook.
