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Trauma Thoughts

 

My husband’s cancer, diagnosed in 2009 and treated over the next two years, did not traumatize me.

“What do you mean by that,” you might ask. “Wasn’t it intense and scary and didn’t you cry?”

Yes, yes, and yes. But genuine trauma overwhelms our coping abilities and leaves unprocessed feelings stuffed away. We walk away from trauma with anger and pain and fear that are tucked away in the closet of the back bedroom, split off from the physical memory of the event. If we want to live an emotionally healthy life, we must eventually clean out that closet. The memories and the feelings need to be reintegrated into a whole experience. Lies need to be identified and disavowed. God’s truth needs to be experienced. Until the healing happens, the memory of the difficult event feels like it happened yesterday.

No memory-from getting Jerry’s diagnosis to the last PSA test-feels that fresh. It was intense and I was scared and I cried a fair amount. When the first surgery had to be stopped because Jerry would have died from a life-threatening reaction to the anesthesia, I trembled for an hour as my friend Judy and I prayed. I lost some sleep and I ate too much. But on the whole, I stayed in touch with my emotions through it all. No memory brings up any pain.

That’s how we know we need healing–when a memory throws us back into an emotional fire. When stuffed-down memories do flash through our minds, we feel like we are right there again.

If that’s your experience, perhaps it is time to ask Jesus, “How do I heal this memory? What do you want to do with this fragmented piece of my heart?” Take the time to ask him to go with you to the old memories and show you where he was. Ask him what his perspective is on that trauma. Find a safe person to process the pain with.

Though the cancer process was not traumatic, childhood abuse had left my heart fragmented for years, so I know what those intrusive memories and feelings are like. Perhaps you are one of the many who walk around with a traumatized heart. May I pray for you?

Father, you know the fresh pain that comes every time that memory comes up. Please show me how to heal. What people, what resources, what kinds of interactions with you do I need? Give me grace to face what must be faced. If it was easy, I’d have done it before. I need your help. For your glory, Amen.  

 

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Letter to a Lost Parent

 

When a parent dies who was not the parent we needed, we may feel a very complicated grief. If we’ve mourned the loss over the years of his/her life, the grief will be less. If we have continued to hope for a loving, attentive father or mother, grief will be much more difficult and strenuous. A way to help process grief that I often recommended to clients is to write a letter.  Something like:

Dear Dad (or Mom or Father or you who adopted me but didn’t nurture me),

What can I say? There’s so much I wish we could have talked about before you died. I wish we could have had a heart-to-heart about that time in third grade when I came home crying because someone teased me at school and you said, “Oh, don’t be such a crybaby.” Or the time in sixth grade when a boy touched my newly developing breasts. I was mortified and humiliated but knew you’d dismiss it as nothing, so I never even mentioned it. I’d sure like to tell you how it felt when you got so drunk at my wedding.

And then there’s what happened in my bedroom at night and how that darkened my heart. I can’t think of those things without hating you. There, I’ve said it. I hated you. I probably still hate you.

How can you just leave me like this? Didn’t you care about me at all? Why raise me if you didn’t love me? There’s so much I don’t understand. Maybe I never will. I’ve got to get past all this pain. Your cruelty does not mean I deserved it.

Your daughter, “Annie”

(And, if you are a Christian) Lord, here’s my torn, messy, sinful heart. I know you love me, even if my parents didn’t. Maybe they thought they were doing the best they could. Maybe they were. Only you know. Please show me what you see here. I need wisdom and grace to grieve. Please. Amen.

Father, may all who grieve be comforted. May those who grieve without you find you in the midst of their pain. And may those who grieve with you feel your arms surrounding them. For your glory and your coming kingdom. Amen.

 

 

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Power to Make Peace

We can choose forgiveness long before we feel forgiving. In fact, we will choose to cancel the debt before we feel like it. If we wait until we feel like it, we’ll never forgive.

Releasing the pursuit of revenge involves several factors. Identifying the sin, identifying and feeling our emotions, developing empathy for the sinner, canceling the debt, along with setting boundaries if there’s no reconciliation, or a slow rebuilding of trust if the hurtful person truly repents.

The process can take years if the sin is grievous. But if we want freedom, somewhere in the process, we decide to forgive. We say the words: “I forgive.” We forgive a person or an institution or a culture or ourselves. We even “forgive” God for what we perceive as injustice toward us or our people.

To forgive sin that has altered the course of our lives requires the power of God’s Holy Spirit. We do not have in us the power to make peace with an altered life.

Without sexual abuse from my father, I can imagine a life of trust, and hope, and faith from a young age. I can spin out scenarios in my mind’s eye of joy and productivity and meaning. By the Father’s power, though, forgiveness has reconfigured my journey, in spite of the abuse, to his peace and rest.

To forgive is to entrust ourselves to an eternal judge who judges righteously. (1 Peter 2:23)

To forgive is to believe God will bring his good from our pain. (Romans 8:28) Not enough to say it was worth it, necessarily, but enough to recognize the Father’s good hand.

To forgive is, by the power of the Holy Spirit, putting to death old hopes thereby clearing the ground for new hope.

Forgiveness grows from the belief that the coming kingdom of our Papa-God is worth all it costs us. (Romans 8:18)

By your power, Father, we forgive those who have altered the course of our lives.

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Why?

Why did my father leave? Why did my mother ignore me? Why did my father violate me? Why did my mother ridicule me? Why? Why? Why? We can get stuck on that question.

It’s a common question. But the “why” questions are only the first layer. It’s not the deepest question. The deeper questions expose guilt and shame:

“Was I being punished?” “Did I do something so wrong that I deserved that treatment?” That’s guilt.

“What is wrong with me to be treated so badly?” “Am I defective?” That’s shame.

Those questions are harder to explore.We are so afraid that we deserved the abuse we received, we hesitate to ask the deeper questions.  We may feel like we did something wrong, wrong enough to deserve the pain. And, most of us who’ve been seriously hurt in childhood feel like something’s wrong with us.

Actually, those feelings are functional when we are children. If we understood, as a child, the evil in who we’ve been entrusted to and the emotionally dangerous milieu in which we moved, we’d be paralyzed with fright. If the people we depend on are streaked with evil, how will I survive? If my father can calmly destroy my sense of safety, what’s to say he won’t kill me? My survival is at stake, as a child. It is more functional to believe something is wrong with me than something is evil in my dad.

Mother and child Pictures, Images and Photos

In adulthood, though, the fears need to be explored and addressed. So that we can get to the truth. Because the truth, the answer to the “why?” is:  my mother spewed evil. My father was a conduit for Satan.
The truth: what we deserved is what every child deserves. To be nurtured, attended to, respected, trained, and taught. With kindness.

No one deserves to be left, ignored, rejected, laughed at. If we misbehave, we deserve kind, firm correction. If we struggle with schoolwork or friendships, we deserve kind, competent help.

Nothing is especially wrong with us that we deserved the abuse we got. That’s the truth that will help set us free. Shame is Satan’s lie. Don’t let Satan win.

Jesus, you have won the victory over guilt and shame. Please speak your truth to our feelings and give us grace to receive.

 

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Forgiveness, Yes. Trust, No.

Forgiving my father didn’t mean I trusted him. It didn’t mean I let my daughter sit on his lap. It didn’t mean I cuddled with him. Even in his old age, he made sexually inappropriate remarks. Though he was a generous, hardworking, and dependable man in many ways, I never knew what he might do or say. I felt oppressed and unsafe in his presence. I could not trust him to keep his hands to himself, nor to keep his words pure.

fence Pictures, Images and PhotosHence, I limited my time with him. I set boundaries against his sin. The matter-of-factness of those words belies years of deep conflict. I longed for a real reconciliation. I wanted a father’s love. In my adult life, I’d never tried to get him talk about what happened. For many years, he was just too powerful a figure. With him, I remained a small child.

However, as I grew larger in my own eyes, he grew smaller. Finally, at nearly forty years old, I wrote “the honest letter.” After expressing my thanks for many aspects of my upbringing, I named the abuse and speculated on his own pain that had been acted out on me in the abuse.  I ended with: “I wish you wanted to know me, Dad. I wish you’d ask my forgiveness for the sexual abuse. I wish you would, even now, face your own pain.”

An excerpt from Trading Fathers, my memoir, continues the story:  ”After two weeks, he wrote a two word response:  ’I'm sorry.’ But he wasn’t sorry enough to engage in real discussion. He wasn’t sorry enough to explore his own motivation. He wsn’t sorry enough to hear my pain….I had done my part to try to reconcile. I’d exposed my heart to him. In response, he gave me two words. Admittedly, they were the necessary words. But they were not sufficient. Two words were not enough to build on. I’d often fantasized a warm relationship with him. Now I could deal with the reality. My father would not pay the price.”

Is there someone in your life who you have forgiven but don’t trust? What is that like for you?

Father-God, thank you for paying the price for relationship with us. 

 



 




 


 

                    	                    

        			
                    		
   
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“I Forgive”
                    
                    

                

                    
                    

                    		                    
“Okay, God, I forgive my father.” Sexual abuse at a young age had left serious consequences–anxiety, distrust, debilitating fears, and intrusive memories of the abuse. The abuse had also contributed to severe mental illness. At the time I said those words, I’d  just gotten out of the hospital from my second inpatient stay.


Diagnosed manic-depressive, I was more depressed than manic after recovery from the out-of-contact-with-reality delusions that had put me in a locked ward with injections of anti-psychotic medication. I was in my mid-twenties then, thirty-five years ago.


I hated my father. Forgiveness wasn’t on my agenda.


However, I’d read the Matthew 18 parable that Jesus tells of the unforgiving steward who gets thrown into a torturer’s den because he, having been forgiven, did not forgive. I grasped that my emotional turmoil was a torturer’s den. And it was related, not just to genetic susceptibility and the abuse, but also to my own unforgiveness.


So, in faith, with gritted teeth, I said the words, to God: “Yes, I forgive.” Immediately, an ugly flashback, with deep feelings of revulsion. “No! I have forgiven him. Today, this day, from now on, he is forgiven. The debt is canceled. Yes, he owes me immensely. He damaged my life. It is, in one sense, unforgiveable. And yet, by grace, I will forgive. I will no longer seek revenge. I will surrender hatred. I will rely on God’s power to keep that debt canceled.”


No Debt Pictures, Images and PhotosWhen I took the step of canceling my father’s debt, I didn’t know much about the process of forgiveness. I just knew my own heart’s conviction.


For me, this step of cancelling the debt came second, right after identifying the sin. It was only later that I began to identify and feel my feelings and develop empathy for my father.


That process of emotional forgiveness took ten years.


But the decision to forgive was recorded in God’s books the day I said the words.


Whether you cancel the debt you are owed at the beginning or in the middle of the process, saying the words “I forgive X, for doing Y” is the center of the challenge of forgiving those who have sinned against us. And, I am convinced, my current mental health (no medications for past thirty-three years) and my ability to be a psychotherapist began with those simple, yet powerful words. “I will forgive.”


Has God brought someone to mind whose debt you need to cancel? Are you willing to say the words, “God, I forgive ______ for ________” ?


Jesus, we are desperately in need to grace to cancel the debts others owe us. So many sins against us feel unforgivable.  Only you, who forgave your abusers from the cross, can understand and help. We need you. For your glory, Amen.

                    	                    

        			
                    		
   
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God Mourned
                    
                    

                

                    
                    

                    		                    
“Of course I forgive her. She’s my mother. She was doing the best she could. You should hear what grandpa did to her!” “Carly” (a composite client) had just told me how her mother had beaten her. With very little emotion, she’d reported how her mom had used sticks, rulers, and bare hands on her legs, her bottom, and sometimes her face. I hadn’t asked about forgiveness. She’d volunteered that.


“I’m glad to hear you say you forgive her because God calls us to forgiveness for our own good. And yet, I think there’s more you need to explore. Can you talk about what it was like for you at six?” I smiled at her. I’d been seeing her for three months, but this was the first time she’d discussed her childhood. She’d come in for therapy because she couldn’t hold a job.


A tear fell from her left eye before she turned to stare out the window. “It was hell. I was afraid to go home after school. I didn’t know what kind of mood she’d be in. I remember one day. I thought she was okay. We were making muffins together for dinner.  I was excited about something or other and spilled the batter. She slapped me in the face.  I never baked with her again.”


Gently, I asked a few more questions, but that was all. Carly wasn’t ready. And she didn’t come back. I’ve never seen her again but when something reminds me of her, I ask Jesus to give her courage and comfort.


Forgiveness is more than saying the words, “I forgive her.” I believe Carly did forgive her mom, as far as she knew at that time. And yet, she needed to explore much more of her pain. And each level of pain requires its own extending of forgiveness.


jesus on cross Pictures, Images and PhotosWhen “forgiveness” is used as a way to short-circuit the process of mourning the losses, it becomes less than God intends. When God forgave our sins, he felt the pain. On the cross, in Jesus, God mourned.


He felt the pain of all our rejection, indifference, and spurning of his affection. Only then was the forgiveness complete. Our forgiveness is complete when we follow his example.


Where are you in your forgiveness processes? What’s the next step?


Father, we need your courage and comfort to forgive. Work out your wholeness in us. For your glory. 


 

                    	                    

        			
                    		
   
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What’s There?
                    
                    

                

                    
                    

                    		                    
Visiting Portland this past spring, we took the train downtown several times. We like architecture and often comment on the details of an entryway or cornice or the design of a window. On the fourth or fifth trip, we began to notice new aspects of the passing scene. On the first few trips, we’d been focused on not missing our stop. The tension of a new environment had honed our observation to only what was needed, but as the tension was relieved, we began to see more of what was there.


American Robin Pictures, Images and PhotosThat reminded me of how I only in the last few years have noticed that robins have little white markings on their wings, visible when they fly. There were lots of robins on the farm when I grew up, but I never noticed them. I was focused on mere emotional survival. My hypervigilance about the danger from my father was like blinders. When I first noticed those markings, I wondered, “Why have I never seen those before?” I soon realized why. The tension of my childhood was long past by that point and I could now see what’s there in the environment, from the details of the birds to the impact of the sin.


If we grow up in a difficult family, we often cannot see what’s there, either the good or the evil. We perceive only what’s necessary to survive. We are utterly dependent on our parents. If the environment they create feels unsafe, we try to protect ourselves by whatever means possible. Hypervigilance feels protective, but constricts our perceptions. We might miss the robins entirely and we might misread the evil as good. Only as we look back will we be able to see what was really there.


Jesus, show us the truth about our childhoods. Give us courage to face reality.


 

                    	                    

        			
                    		
   
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Free to Say Yes
                    
                    

                

                    
                    

                    		                    
Do you or do you know someone who struggles with sex because of molestation? Here’s how Jerry and I cooperated with God for healing.  From Christianity Today’s Marriage Partnership newsletter:


http://www.kyria.com/topics/marriagefamily/marriage/helphealing/sayyes.html?start=3


Blessings to you.


For the next six weeks or so, I’m taking a break.  I will be back with new words in mid to late June.


May the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in Jesus’ sight, for he is our strength and our redeemer. 

                    	                    

        			
                    		
   
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Yell and Tell
                    
                    

                

                    
                    

                    		                    
Are you the parent of a young child? Or a teacher or health professional who works with little ones?You’ve probably thought about sexual predators.


Do you know that those who take advantage of children’s innocence study how to set it up, how to draw the child’s trust, how to threaten them so they are afraid to tell? We also need to study these adversaries. Without overly dramatizing the threat, we can teach children they have permission to speak.


Many will not be pulled into this battle, but many will. The statistics are sad and perhaps more than you know:  up to thirty percent of girls and fifteen percent of boys are sexually violated before their eighteenth birthday. And those are the reported cases. Some of us never told any authority.


The threat needs to be prepared for. Like we warn very young ones not to run into the street, we need to warn older ones against this danger.


Sara Sue Learns to Yell and Tell is the second in a series of children’s stories designed to help open a conversation. Written from a strong Christian point of view, the story will be most helpful to Christians. An Amazon search yields very few books, Christian or secular, written for children on this topic.


Children who, immediately after a violation, tell and are believed fare much better than those who proceed in silence, believing the abuse to be their own fault. Whether you get this book or not, do talk to your children about how to be safe and that it is okay to yell and tell when something is not right.


This book came to my attention when I joined their promotion, next week on Amazon. If you buy a copy between 3/1 and 3/3, you can access more than fifty offers from various partners, from Charisma magazine to my own book, Trading Fathers. See the offers here: http://www.nogreaterjoy.org/go/amazon-blitz/


Father, please give us the wisdom and will to protect the children. 


 

                    	                    

        			
                    		
   
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What Do We Expect?
                    
                    

                

                    
                    

                    		                    
What we expect practically determines what we ask for.


loneliness Pictures, Images and Photos


For example, what do we expect of God? When the diagnosis is cancer, do we expect God to heal directly, immediately? Do we expect God to heal through medicine? Do we expect to die?


What do we expect of our spouse? Of our pastor, our professors, our friends, or our neighbors?


What we expect is shaped by experience. Not just experience with God or the person in question, but experience with others.


If you’re a nurse, how have previous doctors treated you? When we imagine asking a friend for a favor, we take into account not only our history with that friend, but our history with all friends.


When we’re little, parents are emotional stand-ins for God. If Mom hugged us and applied a bandage when we skinned our knees, we likely expect God to give us what we need.


In our broken world, how do we learn to expect compassion, empathy, and help, unless we’ve been given those experiences. If we don’t expect to receive a good answer, we won’t bother to ask.


Father, help us to expect what you want to give us. For your glory.

                    	                    

        			
                    		
   
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Receive His Peace
                    
                    

                

                    
                    

                    		                    
“Jesus, I receive your peace.” That’s my prayer lately. Jesus says, “Peace  I  leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” John 14:27


Growing up with the constant fear and sometimes reality of sexual abuse, I breathed worry, tumult, and distress. The emotional atmosphere of our childhood leaves its mark. Warmth, concern, compassion yields an interior sense of calm and hope. The constant, low-level fear that marked my upbringing set me up for an automatic expectation of evil. At a young age, evil had surprised me and I half-expected pain around every corner.


Prince of Peace Pictures, Images and PhotosEven when we’ve experienced much healing, that expectation of difficulty dies hard. We worry our children won’t come home from an overnighter. We’re afraid to fly–not so much because of pat-downs, though they also scare us–but because the plane might crash. We know our spouse is faithful, but that doesn’t stop images of unfaithfulness flitting through our minds.


There’s been something helpful lately in that prayer:  “Jesus, I receive your peace.” He says he gives it to us. Not based on circumstances, but based in his character. The God who comes in the flesh to be with us is still right here, right now.


Jesus, show us how to receive the peace you offer. For your glory. Amen.

                    	                    

        			
                    		
   
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