Tag: wounds

He Holds My Hand

Posted on by DSilvan

Yesterday I was being nudged to share a part of my life, penning heartfelt words on a subject I wish I didn’t have knowledge on. I wasn’t really interested in opening up and giving the world access. Not even my closest friends have been allowed entrance…my husband is the only one that has seen me at my weakest. Those times when I feel like jumping out of my skin, running to the ends of the earth, disappearing lifeless into the paint on the walls or melting motionless into the hardwood of our floors. And even in these moments, only my God knows the most secretive details of my body, mind and soul. He gets me. My Jehovah-rophe, the God who heals, understands my perplexities, my innermost being, way better than even I do. I didn’t want to reveal this broken area.

So…I said “No.”

This morning at 5 am I woke to kiss my hubby good-bye. But before shutting my eyes for more pleasant sleep, I grabbed my phone and scrolled through Facebook to see what my little world was up to.

Bad…bad idea! Especially after you’ve just said “No” to a divine request. Clearly my wrestling match was not over, yet.

My passion in this area runs hot! So I want to apologize if in my written expression I cause pain or come across as judgmental. Pain and judgment are not my intent. Presenting an observation from a different perspective…providing a set of unfamiliar shoes to walk in for just a brief moment in order to glimpse the battle faced on the front line …that’s my sole intent.

From the time I was a young girl I had moments I thought I was going crazy. I thought I’d stop breathing or my heart might jump out of my chest. I would run into the family room late at night telling my mom I wanted to sit with her, have her scratch my back or claim I just couldn’t sleep, I needed to lay my head on her lap…but, at that moment, I was sure I was going to die! I just needed to be with someone in case that happened…I just really needed to have a safe, secure touch that conveyed reassurance I’d be okay. I don’t know why I never told her what was going on…other than, darkness likes to stay hidden from light or being different is scary. Or…sharing your weakness SUCKS!

The earliest I remember is around 9 years old. I didn’t understand these episodes until I experienced my first depression in my early twenties. Doctors began to explain to me that I was having anxiety and panic attacks. They gave me medicine to “calm” me down. However, all that did was make things worse! The anxiety meds made my anxiety skyrocket…Ugh! I only would occasionally experience sudden tsunami waves where devastating emotional debris was left behind. Because I wasn’t living continuously in this danger zone, taking medicine on a regular basis just seemed really absurd.

I’ve wrestled with anxiety throughout my life for the last 40 years. Because of this personal painful journey, my heart breaks when I hear people say certain things. First, I feel judged and torn down and then I feel a deep compassion and mercy for those who are in the same boat as me. How must they feel when they hear careless words thrown around.

This morning I was confronted by a quote by George Mueller that was beautifully painted by a woman artist. “The beginning of anxiety is the end of faith and the beginning of true faith is the end of anxiety.”  I’ve had friends that have said “fear is the absence of faith.”  I take offense to these little expressions.  I believe these to be lies…lies from the enemy meant to cause even more pain than already exists in a broken body.

Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m missing the mark and off base with God…but this is so contrary to everything that I’ve experienced.  Maybe because my pain is so personal I misinterpret what they’re trying to say.  None the less when I hear these flippant sayings I receive yet another injury.

Now do I think this was written with malicious intent or painted to stir up pain and cause wounds…uhm…NO.  Absolutely not!  I believe the intention was to motivate people to trust in God with everything.  My questions are “Did either of these individuals ever experience anxiety and panic attacks for themselves?  Are they referring to the type of anxiety I encounter?  Is the context of this more like a normal ‘worry’ over getting a good grade in class, finding a close parking spot so you won’t be late or will I be able to provide food for my children tonight?”

Yes, they are entitled to their opinion, but I wanted to share how my opinion is so differing to theirs.  To the majority this might just be another rant, but maybe, just maybe, there’s another soul who would benefit from hearing that someone else understands.  To that one starfish stranded on the beach in the midst of 1000’s of others, hearing words of encouragement that gently toss them back into the environment they need to breath might mean everything to that starfish’s existence.  If that were to happen, then my baring of my soul has been worth it.

In these confrontations, when my stomach feels punched, my heart feels shredded and my brokenness seems attacked and judged…I work hard to do like Jesus did when persecuted — “Father forgive them, for they do not know what they do.”

You see, I don’t have “control” over when my anxiety will raise it’s head, searching to devour me.

A smell, a sound, a crowded room, a loud commotion, an exhausted body, a weird turn of my head, a car drive to familiar places are all things that can lead to my unannounced friend showing up. We are no longer acquaintances because we know each other too well.  We’ve spent far too much time together.

This thing I used to view as an enemy…a terrorizer of my soul doesn’t listen when I scream “STOP!”  My heart beats like it will burst from my chest.  Every fiber in my being wants to run fast and hard to as far as the East is from the West.  Sounds in the room seem to intensify and speed up like when fast forwarding a cassette tape.  Every opening in my body wants to expel and to purge all substances from within me.  There is no earthly place to run or hide, no place to flee where I can find relief.  I have to let anxiety and panic run it’s course.  I have to wait until the adrenaline has depleted and my mind stops circling the habitual path of terror.

I KNOW it’s irrational. I KNOW what it is. Yet, none of that matters.  There’s no controlling this bullying, taunting, tyrant beast.

But even in the midst of these attacks…I have FAITH!  I run to God.  I seek His refuge.  I seek His peace.  I seek His comfort.  I submit to Him saying if I die in this moment of attack, I will be in the presence of You, my Lord.  Even in death I will have gained.  And, in the middle of my wide-eyed terror, as sweat engulfs my body, I can rustle up a smile.  Even if it is the tiniest curl of the corners of my mouth that no one else can witness…I can feel my facial muscles fighting to succeed.

I’ve chosen to change my perspective and focus on the positive that comes from my private encounters with uncontrollable fear. This brokenness within me might have been intended to destroy, kill, disappoint, and discourage me, but instead I’ve been driven into the arms of my Savior.  That’s true faith!  My terror delivers me to my God.  With each battle my trust in Him is strengthened. In my weakness, God is my strength!

I’ve found there is true faith existing alongside anxiety.  My God tells me “I am the Lord your God, I will take hold of your right hand. Do not fear! I will help you!” In the depths of my suffering He sits by me, walks with me, holds me until the overwhelming dread passes.  If my enemy (or, so called friend) did not exist, I quite possibly wouldn’t know my Lord my God intimately like this.  I can therefore rejoice in these temporary moments where I’m held in a dark prison cell because I know I’m not alone, my God is with me.  This true faith is what will empower me to travel alone, leaving the security of my faithful husband who is always there to reassure me the moment will pass (yes, for an entire month to visit my grand babies), always providing the reassuring touch that I will not die.  I will be dependent completely and solely on remembering God is with me during these trials…He is the One who truly helps me. He is always with me.  True faith!

Faith is not the absence of fear, but rather the ability to have courage to face your fears and be an overcomer!  I am an overcomer.

There is a part of me that wishes this wasn’t my thorn.  Yet, I’m grateful for all that it has driven me towards. Grateful for the opportunities I’m given to strengthen my faith, practice courage and face my fear.  They are faith workouts.

I’ve heard them all… “if you had more faith, this wouldn’t happen”… “You need to know whose you are because perfect love casts out fear”… “If you really knew God completely, you’d have no fear.”  ARGH!  Jesus gives me pictures in my mind of turning the other cheek when someone comes to slap me.  He gives me pictures of giving them my cloak too when they try to come and steal my joy of knowing Him in the midst of suffering through anxiety.

Look at it as if I had diabetes.  If I knew God the best I could ever know Him, would my diabetes disappear?  That’s an ailment, a broken area that for whatever reason a body has quite possibly chosen to exhibit even if I don’t over indulge in sugar, even if I regulate my food intake…it just is broken…it produces insulin at a different rate then God designed our bodies to function at.  But through medicine and through God’s help I can manage my life, I can find peace in the midst of my struggle. It doesn’t go away…it’s still there.

At first I’m really angry, and then, God gets me to the point of forgiveness… “Father forgive them for they do not walk in the shoes you’ve given me. They do not know what they do to my heart.”

This peculiar juxtaposition of  trust and fear spurred me to know my Identity in Christ.  Getting a deep strong grasp on who I am through Jesus empowered me to cling to these truths in the pits of darkness.  I was determined to scour the Bible and learn all I could about fear and anxiety, and what God says about them.

Today, this is my experience. Only God knows what tomorrow will bring or if His plan includes releasing me from these moments of captivity.  In the meantime, I will fight for and love on the ones trapped in similar journeys for even in these scary spots, we can experience freedom that nothing or no one can take.

I’ve found that many times I find relief in singing praise music.  My afflictions become eclipsed by His glory.  Even in the midst of my troubles my desire is to praise and worship God.  Thank you Jesus for your sacrifice…for loving me in all my brokenness…for healing my wounds…for providing a way of escape.

 

 

Wielding the Same Sword

Posted on by DSilvan

DISCLAIMER: I have been the victim of this AND I have been the perpetrator, too.  I stand not in judgment, but lay prostrate in humble submission acknowledging my behavior’s ability to be so ugly at times. What a wretched tent of flesh I live in.

Sometimes my heart just breaks.

Sometimes those wounds are caused through friends.

Many times those pleading their case don’t realize they’re wielding the same sword.

One night 4 years ago, we held a party at our home.  We invited our close circle of friends that we study the Bible with and enjoy doing life together. They are our extended treasured family.

We also invited a dear friend Gertrude.  Although I love Gertrude dearly, my buttons of irritation go on high alert around her.  No matter the situation my filter interprets how she treats me, talks to me, reminds me and instructs me in a derogatory way.  I feel I’m treated like I’m 5, yet I’m rounding the corner to 50.  The words I hear in my head are “She thinks you’re stupid!” and it drives me absolutely CRAZY!  I don’t think her intention is to treat me this way, but I can’t get my mind to stop decoding our interactions this way.  Much immediate prayer in the moment is required to help me be loving to her at these times.  And many times, I fail miserably.

Have you ever met anybody that loves what they do yet their words seem to create a different picture?  I listen in perplexity to Gertrude’s story telling.  How the patrons at her volunteer job break all the rules of no food, how volunteer peers just can’t seem to follow the clothing guidelines, how players in her Sports Club are rule breakers and how frustrating it is to “police” all of this.  After attentively listening, my unloving quips begin to flow… “Why don’t you stop volunteering at your job or stop being the Rules Administrator for your Club?”  When excitedly I’m met with her exclamation, “No way! I love what I’m doing!”  I sit and scratch my head trying to understand how someone can love something so much yet focus on only the bad and appear to hate every moment. Interesting.  Peculiar.  The behavior is the exact opposite of what Scripture says in
Philippians 4:8:

“…whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things.”

And yes, I realize at this very moment, I’m guilty of doing the exact same thing.  I love my friend Gertrude dearly and yet my focus in these first few paragraphs is on revealing only the blemishes she wears…is it okay if I’m only speaking of it in order to illustrate how God taught me through it?  I’m not sure…because He asks me to focus on the good and give Him everything else. Hhm.

Despite these behaviors, I love her.  I try hard to accept and understand this about Gerty and this remains to be one of my biggest struggles.  I must admit, I did this much better when I was younger.  As I get older I wrestle more and more with overlooking these flaws and loving her well like God instructs me to do.  Eliminating my sarcastic remarks and responses filled with irritation and intentionally loving this dear widow He’s placed in my life.  In an effort to overcome this ugliness in myself, I’ve found it imperative to acknowledge that with these blemishes come many things that are right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent and praiseworthy.  Gerty goes above and beyond to help you out, is generous when someone is in need, runs all over the mountainside to find what you’ve asked for, functions like a workhorse at the age of 79, adores her grandchildren and great grandchildren, and loves to serve in order to make a difference in your life.  Gerty will cook, clean, wash laundry, take care of animals, you name it she will do it because she LOVES YOU! She’s a servant at heart.  I have no doubt when she stands before Jesus that she will hear “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

Unfortunately, all this good quickly gets overlooked because many people focus on her flaws.  They get drained by her innate ability to focus on and speak of the difficulties.  Some are wounded by her comments and don’t unconditionally love her well.  I get this response because often times I have found myself sitting in this same bed of ruffled feathers.  Like I said, without Jesus and His power I would fail all the time.

After our party I was confronted by a friend with a wound that had been inflicted by Gerty.  Late one night Julie called saying she wanted to chat. Ugh…by her voice I knew the topic couldn’t be good.  I realized a few seconds into our conversation that she had been emotionally hurt by my dear friend Gerty and wanted to talk to me about her.

Apparently Gerty had expressed her extreme dislike, probably more like hatred, for our new Worship Arts leader.  Gerty was busy tearing him down and saying how horrible a music leader he was.  Stating they had brought this Rock-n-Roller in to our church and he was terrible.  Basically, Gerty had nothing nice to say.  Gertrude is a traditional Baptist who believes Christian hymns are the only way to worship God. Our new modern and very LOUD music with electric guitars and drums is not worship music.  The absence of piano and organs categorizes it as obnoxious noise that hurts her ears.  In contrast, Julie, as well as I, adore this worship leader.  Julie loves how he brings her into the presence of our Mighty God.  She sees him as very gifted and a blessing to our church. Julie’s heart connects to all the songs he fashions for our service. Consequently, her heart was ripped apart by listening to how Gerty was tearing him down.  Agreed.  I understand completely.

Julie proceeded to tell me that what Gerty did was extremely hurtful by tearing down a person she deeply loved.  A person Julie admired.  A person Julie had grown to view as family.  And, Julie was left feeling at a loss and didn’t know quite what to do.

Not knowing what Julie desired to accomplish through our conversation, I apologized for Gerty.  I said I understood how she felt, I’ve felt the same many times before, but what I’ve found over time is I must focus on the goodness of her heart and understand Gerty doesn’t mean to cause harm.  Understanding that this learned communication style to speak about the difficulties is something Gerty has done her entire life.  She’s set in her ways.  Oh don’t think for a minute I’ve mastered this…my husband is the first one to gently remind me GRACE, Denise extend Grace and Mercy.

I apologized again for the pain it caused Julie.  I think Julie just needed to process her encounter with someone safe in order to obtain understanding.  But I was at a loss for how to proceed.  I didn’t know if Julie had any specific desired outcome or if she just needed to be heard and share her burden.  I encouraged her to speak with Gerty and share how this encounter had hurt Julie’s feelings. But Julie did not want to do that.  I stated that I can’t really “dis-invite” Gerty to my gatherings, but that Julie and her family could choose to not come in the future if it would be too uncomfortable…but I hoped that she would try to understand Gerty, have compassion for Gerty despite her behavior, and see her with God’s eyes.

There was so much else I wanted to say, but I felt it was merely going to inflict more pain…

Like maybe practice what Jesus says in Matthew 18:15-17:

15 “If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over. 16 But if they will not listen, take one or two others along, so that ‘every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.

I know if Gerty was approached in love, in private and heard how she’d hurt Julie’s feelings, Gerty’s heart would have been broken and she would have apologized.  Devastation would have occurred.  Gerty means no harm, she just has no internal monologue filter anymore.  I’ve determined as we age beyond our 60’s, we begin reverting to toddler ages and start doing and saying whatever we want without a thought or care in the world.  Remember when your kids or nieces/nephews would blurt out embarrassing comments at 3-5 years old and you were MORTIFIED…yeah, just like that!  I’ve already begun apologizing to my kids…saying I’m fairly certain I’m going to do these absurd things and I’M SORRY!!!

And, the lesson begins.  Unfortunately instead of privately sharing with  Gerty how what she said was hurtful, Julie chose to complain to me about what happened…in essence, gossip to a dear friend of the perpetrator.  And the pain was perpetuated. Ugh.  As humans we get it so wrong majority of the time.  Father forgive me when I have done this…I’m sure I’ve done it without realizing.

Once I hung up the phone, tears gently slid down my face.  Speaking to my husband as I lay in bed, I shared what just transpired on the phone.  I wept because although I get frustrated with Gerty, I want others to love her.  I want them to understand her. I want them to have compassion for her.  I want them to overlook her flaws and deeply treasure her.

What Julie was so angry and hurt about, the issue that had prompted her to call me…Gerty tearing down our highly esteemed worship arts leader who she loved…was exactly what Julie was now guilty of doing to me in regards to Gerty.  In a moment, in a turn of a dime, in a flash of lightening, and in a blink of an eye Julies’ complaint morphed into what she was complaining about.  One of my dearest friends was complaining about a woman deeply loved by me, admired by our family, treasured beyond all treasures and truly family to us.  Julie was speaking ill of my Gerty, saying what a horrible Christian she was, tearing her down and judging Gerty on her poor behavior.  Julie became guilty of the same behavior she called to complain about.  How’s that for irony.

Why is it my heart is so ripe for teaching when I encounter pain?  This moment taught me to be very careful not to wield the same sword.  Many times we judge others in areas that we fall so vastly short.  Sometimes we encounter painful situations or sandpaper people because God is placing a mirror up in front of us so we can see ourselves and how our interactions touch others.  Be mindful of your ways, be compassionate, show mercy and above all else LOVE.  Love covers a multitude of sins.

In hindsight, one thing I will do differently next time is offer to pray with the hurt individual.  Why did I neglect this opportunity?  Seeking God’s healing during a painful encounter is the only way to find peace.  He is the only One who can reveal why things happen the way they do and provide sustaining relief, redeem the situation and restore relationships back to wholeness.  Always a work in progress!

Remember, that when we think or say harsh things about ourselves, our loved ones, our neighbors, and even our enemies…God’s heart is broken in a similar fashion.  He adores each and everyone of us! He created us in His image.  Despite our blemishes and flaws He adores us!  He looks beyond our brokenness.  He is long-suffering, gracious, merciful and faithful and chooses to focus on and help us to become the beautiful Masterpiece He created us to be.