Recovery

Darkness Acknowledged

/ belovedbrokengirl / 4 Comments

I’ve been doing some trauma work lately in therapy. It’s been pretty intense as I have a lot of repressed anger, and processing that is actually harder for me then processing the trauma itself. Those that know me well know that I don’t do anger. Anger is one of those emotions that was pretty frowned upon in the Christian circles I grew up in.

Although anger was not explicitly forbidden, the basic teachings were that righteous anger, like Jesus’ was permitted, and then if you did get angry about anything else, well, “in your anger, do not sin.” But no one ever really explained what that looked like. Obviously, physical violence, threatening, and/or name-calling (Raca!) was not okay (unless of course you’re Jesus flipping tables and calling the Pharisees a brood of vipers). But what about thoughts? Well, even thoughts were to be suspect, because really anything you were thinking was basically you doing it in your heart. Or so we were taught from the words of Jesus in the Bible when he commented on lusting after a woman in your heart being basically adultery. And so we had to watch our thoughts, lest we do something horrendous in our hearts! And on top of that, if someone did something that injured, we were always encouraged to forgive pretty immediately. Afterall, Jesus forgave us for those awful thoughts and other sins we have done against him, so there’s no room for anger against others. In my young mind, the only answer I had when I got angry – in order to keep from sinning – was to deny I had the anger. The problem with that is emotions don’t just disappear when you don’t process and work through them. My anger got buried deeply in my brain and body, and for a while that was okay. Friends would comment on how calm and happy I always seemed. But eventually, the mask started to slip, and I found that in order to deal with the anger that just wouldn’t be shoved anymore, I started turning it against myself, working hard to numb this emotion that I had been shamed for.

I have done this for years, so fast forward to now, and my therapist and I have come to the conclusion that the repressed anger has got to come out. It’s a very slow work in progress, because I still feel a great deal of shame and fear when it comes to allowing myself to feel anger in my body. My therapist thinks I fear that I’m going to “hulk out” and turn into a giant green monster that destroys everything in sight. He reassures me that it won’t happen, but my anger feels like something so dark and violent, that I can’t trust that it won’t happen. In my mind, that kind of deep rage that is buried there is evil, so I carry a lot of shame and I want it to stay hidden. But it’s killing me, and my therapist assures me that it’s okay for it to come out. He won’t judge me.

I’ve been praying about this, asking God to help me heal, and He keeps bringing me back to the story of the demoniac from the Gerasenes region. I’ve pondered it for a while now and there are some interesting points that have stuck out to me.

Basically this man was possessed and as the story goes, no one could control him. He would break ropes and chains. He lived amongst the tombs and would scream and slash himself with stones. In the story, Jesus had just stepped out of his boat when the man saw him from a long way off and came running up to him, bowing down.

The interesting thing about this is that Jesus didn’t come after him. Jesus didn’t command him to come to him. The man and his demons came running to Jesus. The demons knew who he was, and as we will see later in the story, they were afraid of what Jesus would do to them – and yet, they still came and fell before him. This is not the first story where a demonized person comes to Jesus out of their own free will, terrified, and yet, they come to him. There is something about Jesus, that draws even demons to himself. As he’s on the ground, the man shouts at Jesus, asking what he wants because he knows who he is – the Son of the Most High God – and he starts begging Jesus not to torture him.
Then Jesus does something interesting and quite compassionate – he asks the demon his name.

Really let that sink in.

This demon has been torturing this man, and Jesus has the power to bring the demon out, condemn him and send him to what the demon calls “the bottomless pit.” Jesus has the power to give this demon what for, but he doesn’t. He asks the demon his name. Names are important. Names identify us and connect us. Names allow us to be seen. One could argue – if Jesus had the power to condemn the demon to the pit – he likely already knew his name. And even if he didn’t – he was a demon – an enemy of God and humanity – why would his name matter?

But somehow, it did matter. When Jesus called the demon out of the man, he made sure that the demon was seen. Named. Acknowledged.

And the demon was still scared. He knew what Jesus could do to him, and so he begged Jesus not to punish him, not to send him to the pit, but instead begged to be allowed to go to the pigs on the hillside.

And Jesus listened. He listened to the pleas of the demon, and he had mercy. He had to have known that casting the “Legion” into the pigs would free them to go somewhere else, or maybe even come back, but he did it anyway. There was no condemnation of the demons or the man – just freedom for all of them.

Jesus reminded me – if he didn’t condemn demons, he’s not going to condemn my deeply buried anger. Like the demon, he will call it out and it will name itself, and he will acknowledge it, listen, and set us both free.
He has reminded me that I need not be afraid of my darkness, because he doesn’t condemn it. He accepts me as I am, and loves me into healing and wholeness. Darkness and all.

Psalm 139: 11-12 “If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,” even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.”

Silencing Demons

/ belovedbrokengirl / 8 Comments

I had a rough weekend.  We are having a pretty challenging time with one of the kiddos.  I found myself at a point where I just felt done.  Done with experiencing all of the anger, frustration, anxiety, sadness and crazy that comes along with this particular situation.  And so I turned back to old coping mechanisms, dancing with my demons, aiming to dull the feelings and attain some semblance of control.

But then Saturday night, I was faced with the Gospel reading for Sunday, and found myself in the story.

Mark 1:21-28 They went to Capernaum; and when the Sabbath came, he entered the synagogue and taught. They were astounded at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. Just then there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit, and he cried out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God.”   But Jesus rebuked him, saying, “Be silent, and come out of him!”  And the unclean spirit, convulsing him and crying with a loud voice, came out of him.  They were all amazed, and they kept on asking one another, “What is this? A new teaching–with authority! He commands even the unclean spirits, and they obey him.”   At once his fame began to spread throughout the surrounding region of Galilee.

The Gospel story is interesting, because Jesus had not called the man to him, nor had anyone shoved him forward to be healed.   But he cries out, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are…” bringing attention to himself, whether he wanted it or not.  He could have just left the synagogue, without speaking to Jesus, but there had to have been something about being in the presence and authority of Jesus that drew the man out.

I relate to the man with the unclean spirit. When I hold hands with my demons, God is always right there, waiting for me to engage with Him, so that He can heal me.  But it can be a struggle.  His presence draws me, and yet, my demons whisper to me, “Why would God want anything to do with you? If anything, he’s here to destroy you. I know who He is….too holy for you!”

And so, with my demons, I hear myself cry out in distrust, “Why are you here?  You’re going to destroy me! I know who You are, but I want to be in control!”

So I’ve engaged with Him, me and my demons, and as the demons continue yelling their lies, God says, “Silence!” and calls me to Himself, away from them.  And in their silence, my feelings rush in and I feel utterly out of control.  He is destroying me – my self-will and fear and shame and addiction and the untrue things I have been told and believed about myself.  He destroys my self-reliance and the control I try to maintain for dealing with the hard things in my life, and that feels like death to me.  But He’s freeing me. I can’t look at Him at first.  But He sweetly calls, “Jennifer, my dear one.”  And I can’t resist the way He says my name, so I look at Him through my tears.  And I find nothing but gentle compassion.

I know who He is – the one with authority over life and death, feelings, and my very breath.

I know who He is – the One who has called me His Beloved, silencing my demons once more.   So, I walk on in recovery and life, hand-in-hand with the One who loves me through it all.

Beloved Broken Girl

/ belovedbrokengirl / 8 Comments

Several months ago, I decided to clean my son’s closet.  He used to like to climb inside of it and make himself a cozy little hideout.  However, over the course of time, it got full of so much junk that stuff would tumble out when you opened the door.  He wasn’t able to play in his closet, nor was he able to use the toys in there, because he couldn’t find anything in the mess anymore.  But he was living with it.  Stepping over stuff, pushing even more stuff in his closet to “clean his room.” Little buddy started out helping me, but then he got overwhelmed with it all and just stopped and left.  As I continued to work, instead of the mess getting better, it got so much worse. Occasionally I would look around and would feel overwhelmed with the monumental task in front of me, but I knew where I was going.  About mid-way through, when his room and closet both looked like a massive storm had blown through, Little Buddy and Baby Girl came into the hallway and both just gasped in wide-eyed horror.  Little Buddy screamed, “Mom!  My room is so messy now!  What are you doing?!”

“I’m cleaning, buddy.”

Little buddy laughed in disbelief and said, “I’m leaving! This is too much!”

But I kept at it, and eventually Little Buddy was able to come back and discover that he had a lovely closet to cozy up in.  When he came back in, he was amazed and said, “Mom!  It’s so clean now.  I can go in my closet. I can do this; I can do that!”  He was excited to find toys that he hadn’t played with in a while. And then we cuddled in his closet, because there was room now.

I liken this experience to the path I have tread with God these past couple of years, dealing with my mom having younger-onset dementia, my son having ADHD/HFA, and my struggle with depression, anorexia and self-injury.  My life had been pretty messy for a while, and I was making due the best I could by using my addictions to avoid and deny my pain.  You know, shoving things in the closet and telling myself everything was fine, when there was actually a huge overwhelming mess slowly growing out of control, hidden and just waiting to pour forth when the door was opened.  Before long, it became impossible to shove anything more into that closet, and the mess came pouring out into the pristine room I had been keeping.

I started trying to clean up the mess myself, but it was so overwhelming it seemed impossible that I would ever make even a dent in it.   I went to the hospital twice, and ended up in residential treatment for 6 weeks for my eating disorder and self-injury.  And God met me in all of those places, and we started picking up together.   But even when I got out of my residential treatment, I found that I was still overwhelmed by everything, and constantly wanted to just shove stuff back in the closet and forget about it.  And that’s when God told me to just rest, and let Him take care of it.  I had a really hard time with that.  This was my mess; I needed to clean it up.  My Evangelical background had always insisted that we as Christians should be “doing” things.  If I had problems, well, it was my fault and I needed to pray harder or read my Bible more or be more active in church, which of course added to my burdens. But the thought of just resting, made me feel guilty.  God kept gently prodding me to rest and trust Him though.  And so I finally did, and when the guilt came, He led me to the story of Mary and Martha, where Mary rested at Jesus’ feet and just listened to Him.  And I heard Him say to me, “Jennifer, my Jennifer, you are worried about so many things, but there’s only one thing that matters.  So rest Beloved, and listen to Me.”

So as I rested and followed Him wherever He led, He continued to clean up my mess.  But let me tell you, it got a whole lot messier before things started looking better.  He had to pull everything out of my closet, and had to throw things away that I had long held onto, and that I wasn’t necessarily ready to get rid of.

This cleaning up is taking a really long time.  He’s still digging some stuff out my closet, but for the most part, the disaster area has been cleaned up, and like my son, I stand amazed at what’s available to me now. He has cleared out so much space for me to explore my faith, and room has been made for me to have wonderful fellowship with an amazing body of believers.  There’s also quiet space for me to just be with God.

I have found too that when things start getting messy again (because they do), instead of shoving them back in my closet to quickly rid myself of the garbage, I go to God instead, and hand them over.  He knows exactly what to do with my mess, and I know I can trust Him because I am His Beloved broken girl and He loves me.