I’m six days out from walking onto the stage of our church, sitting on a stool next to our lead pastor, and sharing my story.
The one where I’m five and a boy steals my innocence.
The one where Jesus meets me, over and over again, punctuating my pain with healing touches, slowly transforming an injured identity into one that’s sewn up with threads of Truth and Life.
I’ve had months to anticipate this moment, months to prepare. I didn’t even initiate this project—it came to me in prayer and I have very hesitantly submitted. The whole process of preparation, though, has surprised me.
I thought we were good on this.
I thought we’d made a ton of progress.
I thought every stone had been overturned.
I thought this period of preparation would be one of celebration and reflection, of merely finding words to describe the healing work that had already transpired.
Instead, I find myself six days out and six leagues from whole.
New pain, deeper pain, has been uncovered. New memories have returned, piercing through the fogginess of twenty-three years of recollection with a frightening clarity. And I find myself scrambling, with this pending deadline, to fix myself and quickly.
I try to schedule a session this week with my counselor, asking to Skype, if necessary. The earlier, the better. I need to lay these demons to rest.
I have to prepare to share this Sunday.
My well-intentioned husband sends me to the spa and Starbucks, for an afternoon free from the babies. He confesses later that he hopes “my day off” will “make me happier.”
So I can prepare to share this Sunday.
I meet with my bestie, over coffee and a shared berry crumble. I hash out my recently discovered wound, hoping for some cathartic release from the pain,
because I have to share this Sunday.
And then I turn my thoughts to scripture. Surely there’s some passage, some principle on healing that I’ve overlooked. Surely there’s something in there that can erase this pain. My Bible opens to Psalm 139, probably because the creases in its binding prefer a fair amount of weight on either side, pinning the Psalms in the middle. My eyes land on a section I usually skip over, the depressing one sandwiched between happier confessions.
even the darkness
I read. And it catches my attention like never before.
even the darkness is not dark to You
I keep reading, above and around that very phrase.
If I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there…
If I say, “Surely the darkness will overwhelm me and the light around me will be night…”
Even the darkness is not dark to You…
And then comes a moment, when soul yields to spirit, and words are received from a holy Somewhere Else,
I am not afraid of your darkness.
Somewhere along the line, at some point on this healing path, I’ve strung the transcendent moments together, forgetting the dark thread that has connected their beauty. I’ve forgotten that between my summer camp experience at thirteen and my sacred driveway-talk-with-Mom at seventeen, my counseling sessions at twenty-five and my conversation with Dad at twenty-eight, there has been a lot of darkness. In my hurry to summarize my years of healing, trying to concentrate the redemption into bite-sized, fill-in-the-blank principles, I’ve short-changed my relationship with God into something it is not. Because here, I read,
Even the darkness.
And in these three words I can rest.
I don’t need to be fixed. I don’t need to hurry to a place of happiness. I don’t need to hasten my grief along. I don’t need a scripture or an answer for my newfound pain. While I will continue to “work on it,” I don’t need to expect it to disappear with the wave of some psychological wand, especially within some specific time constraint
like six days.
My God tells me that He is okay with my darkness. He is not uncomfortable with my smudged mascara or my tear-stained pillowcase. He is not antsy, ready for me to be done with thisalready, ready for Happy April to return.
He enters into this present moment, pulls up a chair and sits in silence.
So I have six days left to prepare. And I may just spend them here, in this place, unrushed and unafraid. Because isn’t that what my healing is, after all? That I have a God, a God-made-Flesh, who was and is present in my pain. A God who has never left me, and promises there is nothing that can make him leave,
even the darkness.
April blogs at Through This Lens.
{ 37 comments… read them below or add one }
i was 5, too, when a group of boys stole my innocence and your words hit powerfully in all the places in my heart that are still hurting. thank you, *thank you*, from the bottom of my heart for being brave and for sharing those 3 precious words. yes, even in the darkness…
I’m sorry, Kimberley. I’m hoping for your healing as well…I just read how our healing is a “foretaste of glory”–just a sample of the complete redemption we’ll experience in the new kingdom. I hope Jesus continues to lead you to more tastes of glory in your journey.
This is the first article here at Deeper Story that actually brought tears to my eyes.
Everyone tries so hard to be happy, but I always feel I appreciate life more when I’m in the darkness. And it’s okay to realize you don’t have to try so hard to get out of it… Because God is also there.
“i don’t need to be fixed”
i love that line. so often we put this expectation on ourselves….and if we don’t do it…the church is sometimes guilty of it. pray harder and god will “fix” you. have more faith and god will “fix” you. while i believe god can do that if he desires…i agree with you. god is okay with my mess. he’s okay with the fact that i don’t have it all together. that i don’t have it all figured out. he loves me just the same every day with that steady unchanging love.
thanks for sharing your story. so encouraging to me!
a-to-the-men.
this. God is okay with the mess and the darkness.
Thank you for your honesty, your vulnerability here. Isn’t it so like us that we all want to “get fixed” on a time-table, neat and with bow-tied. I love how you wrote of the reality that the “getting fixed” is really just a process of relationship- growing deeper with Him, darkness and all.
I love the Story you told here, April. Thanks for reminding us that Jesus sits in the dark, too.
It took a long time for me to rectify my past experiences as I seem to have a target painted across my soul. I was molested at four by older boys in my neighborhood, ten – twelve by a grandfather, twelve-fourteen by an uncle who was taking care of my sister and I while my mother was in rehab for the blind, and at fourteen by a man for whom I babysat. When I read how Joseph absolved his brothers from selling him into slavery, I started to get to not give the molesters power by crumbling, attempting to destroy me but to give God the glory for what he can work out of that evil. But it is a work in progress…Thanks for sharing your story. I think you are so brave to put your name on this piece and even braver to testify about your experiences at church.
Hi Anonymous, I am so sorry for your pain! Even that sounds trite in light of your confession. I found an interesting article by Mary DeMuth, it’s actually a series, all about “the mark” you mentioned “painted across your soul.” http://www.marydemuth.com/2010/04/the-mark-part-one/
I’ll be praying for your healing, that Jesus will meet you as far as the pain reaches.
Thanks for the link. It was helpful.
April, I so sorry for your pain. Thank you for sharing your story, and giving courage for other women to share their “darkness.” If only, I had a “psychological wand,” but I don’t so I will sit with you quietly, in the darkness!!
xo
I too like “I dont need to be fixed”
When I meet with grieving mothers I tell them that in our culture we want everything to “be OK” and if its not we want to “jump to OK” and people will tell them “Its OK because ______(you are young, you have others, it was for the best)” but in truth its NOT OK and we have lost the capacity to be “not OK” with each other. I tell them that they are learning the skill of being “nor OK ” and the people they will meet in their futures will treasure the skill….and I add that its ok if they wish they had never had to travel the path they took to get so wise.
It is these very experiences with our Living Lord that create a profound desire in me to show others in the darkness the same grace.
Allowing them to be where they are, with their dark emotions, reactions and most times dark ideas of God………Every single solitary thing God has shown me on this journey of mine had never, not one time, been shown to me in real life, in real churches by real people who proclaim the Real Jesus……
Great story April! Thank you!
I am listening carefully to what you have shared here. It so resonates with the deeply hewn places of my person. I will turn it over gently again and again, to better gain understanding of God’s goodness and nearness in all things from it, to better be with others in their darkness and in mine. Thank you, April.
April,
Thanks for sharing your process. I have a similar story, and am about to share it in 4 weeks as a key note speaker at a women’s event. Thought I was done with this, thought I felt every feeling, covered all the hurt, pain and shame and yet here I am swimming in this turbulent sea again. I found great comfort and encouragement in your post today….thanks for the reminder.
Wow, April. This is such a beautifully written, vulnerable, and God-honoring post. Thank you for sharing what God is teaching you and allowing His Word to describe to you His character. What a ministry you have with women. Sunday will be amazing!
So, I can’t help but share a few of the resources that have helped me on my journey! Mary DeMuth’s site has some great articles on healing: http://www.marydemuth.com/category/healing/page/2/
and Dan Allender’s book, The Wounded Heart, is so filled with truth it’s taking a while for me to unpack. The accompanying workbook is awesome, too–tailored for even the most hesitant sojourner in need of healing…
The actual sharing went well. God enabled me to get to a place where I could prepare like I wanted to and I was even excited that morning. Here’s the video, I’m about 5 minutes in if you want to skip the intro: http://vimeo.com/19359771
This was beautifully written…wow… even in our darkness God will show us light. Yes recovery is hard, but the darkness will have meaning once we understand it for what it was.
I am so sorry for that little girl but I know God has the power to heal within the deepest places. Bless you as you speak your truth. You will do well.
I am so comforted by your post. I am constantly struggling with all the areas I want to be “fixed” and how it keeps me apart from God. But such a reminder that my darkness is not even talk to Him.
I’m a girl who often feels like God would really like me to get over it already.
I figure he is sick of my pain. About as sick of it as I am. I want to be “better”. I want to not hurt. I want to just dust off my knees and pretend like none of it ever happened; that I’m normal, or as normal as normal can be.
But I’m not, and I hurt, and it did happen. All of it. And posts like this one remind me that it He is okay with where I am. Even though I can’t seem to “just get over it”.
This statement alone brought me so much peace.
“He enters into this present moment, pulls up a chair and sits in silence.”
Thank you for writing this and thank you for being so honest. I’m going to work on being okay in the darkness.
Yes April! Rest in Him as you prepare to share. The being fixed is not the important bit. The being in God is, and He will provide the peace that we always seek and think we will get if we are just healed already.
(I hope this makes sense, sorry but I’m not feeling very eloquent with my words this morning.)
Thank you for being real.
True confession, I don’t understand what it means when people talk about being healed by God from painful experiences.
I crawled away from my abusive church 8 years ago. Since then, I’ve tried different churches, small groups, Scripture memory, group studies and retreats to try and heal. I begged, pleaded with God to show up, to show me that he loved me. (non-violent proof of love, the whole “God gave Jesus the beating he wanted to give to you, aren’t you grateful” isn’t what I was looking for).
I got nothing. Indifference. It’s only been by stepping away from God (and sticking with therapy) that I’ve made any progress at all. I truly wanted to know this warm and fuzzy daddy God that everyone else seems to know, but he’s just not there. I’m trying to figure out who God is, but I know who he is not (at least not for me).
I DO relate to church people wanting everything to be fixed. They want the victorious testimony. They want the after picture. Not a lot of patience for the “before”.
I often feel like if I (or the situation) is not “fixed” then few want to know about it. It seems as if many in the Christian culture only want to hear about someone’s struggles after it’s been “fixed” so that it’s then considered “a testimony” of God’s faithfulness, grace, power, etc. But today, by your post, you remind us that the real testimony of God’s faithfulness, grace & love is that “even in our darkness” He will be with us through the back & forth process of healing from our pain.
April,
You are so brave. Thank you for pointing out that “He is not antsy, ready for me to be done with thisalready, ready for Happy April to return.” God doesn’t need me to rush and become “fine”. God just needs me to trust Him.
what courage. to work toward healing. what wisdom. to come to the understanding that god isn’t waiting for you to get wellin order to hold you, but that he walks the road with you. on HIS time. i don’t know you, but i will be praying for you sunday morning.
God isn’t waiting for you to get well in order to hold you. wow, kendal. those words’ll preach.
This understanding is so powerful, April. While our experiences are different, I often gloss over the darkness in my past and focus on the healing since then. And then when some other aspect surprises me, I feel like I’ve failed in all of my progress. But you’re right, that there is a dark thread behind all of the transcendent moments. Though we hate it, if not for the darkness, we would not be able to appreciate light. Thank you for sharing your story.
I am so glad you wrote this. To hear the process. To hear where your brain took you, and then where God led you. And to be reminded again that God is not afraid of our darkness, that he is in and around the darkness, and that we don’t have to be perfect to come to him or to sit in front of a church of people. Be authentic. Share your story. I love what Kendal said in her comment, too. he walks the road with you.
Thank you so very much for your honest words and insight. Over the last few months I’ve been more of a testimony than a person, as people have been very interested in my “former” life with all it’s ugliness and the healing I’ve experienced since having found His love.
However, I still have moments, while preparing to talk about my past, when I feel like I’m experiencing every emotion over and over again…moments when I even doubt, that my heart has been mended and changed. I turn to scripture because it’s the best self-help book I know and while reading Philippians 4:6-7 in The Message, I get more confident that I will be alright, hoping that the words I read will become words that my heart stores in it’s depths.
Reading this was like a refreshing drink of water. It reminded me that it is okay to be where I am at, wherever that may be. Don’t rush it. Don’t rush to have to be in the happy place right now. Rest. Rest in Christ. Allow time for the process.
So beautifully said. Thank you for sharing.
Amber – Your words of hope and peace are refreshing! i can feel the Spirit of the Lord on you as i read – how amazing the transforming power of the Lord. HE is so faithful. Only He can make Beauty out of our ash…even in the dark He sees beauty. Love your post. Thank you for sharing!
I am excited for you! I walked a similar road and shared my story with my church back in November. And I was terrified, sick to my stomach and wanted nothing more than to just back out and forget the whole thing. But, God! He showed up in a mighty way and I was blessed {and others shared they were as well}. Revelation tells us that the devil is defeated in part by the words of our testimonies- so go share your story, girl!
I too like the phrasing “I don’t need to be fixed”.
So often we heap all the responsibility of healing on ourselves when it is God’s desire & pleasure to touch us continuously and walk us through the healing process. Such an insightful & necessary post.
I was two. And four. And five.
…after that the memories just blur together. Just typing those words out makes me start rushing to breathe. I just started working through this. Thursday marks my second counseling session. Later this week I’ll meet with my recovery sponsor for step four.
…and even though it’s only been months, even though there’s still moments where the memories come screeching to a halt right in front of me, I ache to run free. This post moved me once again to a place where I realize it’s okay to not be okay.
Thank you…so much.
Oh, Elora (beautiful name, by the way), I am so sorry for you. I am so proud of you for choosing to walk down the dark road of healing. It takes so much boldness, so much faith to turn around and fully face the demons we’ve been trying to manage all these years. I will commit to praying for you regularly. Please email me if you want. Love, in Christ
*tears* I am blown away by your words. I too struggle with wanting to get “fixed now”. Truly, with everything God has been doing in my life, I am blown away at the parallels in our stories.
Thank you for your honesty, and your willingness to be so transparent.
Thank you for sharing your story. My innocence was stolen when I was 7. My abuser a young teen himself. One of the hardest points in my life was when I shared that I had decided to forgive my attacker. Shock was expressed from family. Disbelief from friends.
It was harder to forgive the misguided Christians who claimed that I couldn’t have been assaulted if I could forgive so easily this young man. I learned that I needed to forgive this young man so that I could fully experience forgiveness myself. Does that mean I allow him in my life, no. But, I do pray that he finds the Lord and I pray I will meet him again walking on the streets of gold.
wonderful, encouraging words. I was 18 when I became involved in an abusive relationship that lasted 9 months, that ended in rape. I have 2 days before I lay it all out before my small group. right now, i’m scared to death. even thinking about it makes me sick. but I hear God asking me to let go, and trust in Him. and that healing involves words, and trust, and love. Bringing it out in the open takes away it’s power, the power of shame and guilt and depression.
Your words encouraged me to know that I’m okay, where I am, today. And gave me strength to talk about it.