8. Glimmer of grace
When I look back at the moments that broke me in this
process, it all comes back to the moments that I didn’t feel heard or valued.
I felt so disposable, so replaceable. Let me be clear here, part of that is on
me. As I previously mentioned, I brought some of those insecurities and
triggers right into that situation. I take responsibility for that. But, gosh, there
were so many times that I, as a person, was devalued throughout this process. So many times
I was dismissed. I can point to moments, in words and in action, when I actively
asked for the opportunity to be heard. It was often delayed, and sometimes straight up
ignored.
Here is what I hoped for. I wanted the truth to
show up in a big, bold way and I wanted it to show up in a meek and humble way.
But more than that, I wanted the people I was walking through this with, the
leaders in the ministry that I served in for 10 years, some of them my friends, to rise up and carry me through this. They avoided me and made me
feel like I was a burden when I did reach out for information or even help. I
remember trying to come up with a reason for it. Trying to
point to something I did in the past that may have created this inability for
me to be loved and nurtured in this season. I needed to make sense of this somehow,
and they were not helping me do that. I am not sure this part will make it into
the book, but I am going to write it down anyway and adjust it for anonymity
sake. A leader, a friend, someone that knows me and how I operate – more so than
most people, someone that I sacrificed my own comfort for to choose the right
thing for him., had the opportunity to love me well and he, again, chose his own
comfort over caring for me, or even the right thing. Even if he didn’t care
about me at all, ever, still choose the right thing. But that is where me bringing
my own triggers and baggage comes into play in a big way here. I don’t think he
did right by me or my family at all, but I have a history with him that triggered
a much larger emotional response in me. I had hoped he would look at our history
and know that he had the opportunity to love me well and choose to protect me
as I did for him in the past. He didn’t. Any attempt in resolving that has left
me with the burden of figuring out that whole relationship again. That is a behavior in
someone else that I allowed to define a lot of my value a few years ago. And I
walked into this situation with these open, festering wounds that had never
fully healed and hoped for a different outcome. In my mind, that would have
made it all worth it. If he just chose me this time. But he did not. For
whatever reason, I hoped, and maybe even expected, that he was going to fix our
past problems by showing up better in this one. WHAT A TOXIC WAY TO VIEW SOMETHING.
I piled all of my previous hurts and let downs onto this one solution that nobody,
in the history of all human beings, could ever pacify for me. I mean, it could and
should have been handled much better, but would it have been enough to make me
feel like I was loved well by him? I don’t know.
Here is what I do know. Everyone was wounded by this situation. Those that were in the middle of it and those that were on the outskirts of this. No one got to walk away from this unscathed. But when you pile history and previous hurts into a new wound, gosh, it feels like there are weights on your chest that people just keep adding to. It crippled me in every area of my life. I felt like I could not rise up and lead anyone or anywhere. I didn't have it in me. Did you ever have that dream where someone or something is chasing you (usually through quicksand) and you are PETRIFIED? Everything around you is not reality in any capacity, but it is the only thing you can see. And then you try to scream and nothing comes out. You try so hard, over and over, and you can't muster up a single sound. That is what this felt like. It felt like my nightmare playing out and I was trying to find my voice and get back to a reality that was no longer there. Fear enveloped me. Because I felt rejected and like a burden to so many people more than once, I couldn't make a single sound any more. Not in that environment, and not in others. And no one seemed to miss the sound of my voice. I prayed for my heart to change, for the strength to ask for help again. I prayed and prayed and prayed for that shift. And then one day, it happened. I reached out - one more time. I did it for so many reasons. 1) to ask some questions - there were too many unanswered questions for me to be able to process. 2) to be given the opportunity to finally feel heard 3) to share my hurt so that the same mistake wouldn't be made with someone else. Enough time had past where I felt like I could speak from a place of emotional maturity, so I reached out to someone that I cautiously hoped would have the humility and the grace to sit with me. I was willing to give those characteristics another chance to show up. I went in, asked my questions, shared my hurts and the things I lost, and explained how I wished I had been cared for in that time. I spent an hour trying to explain how I had felt for a whole year. For the very first time, in this entire process, I didn't feel like I was fighting to be heard. I didn't feel like there was another person sitting in front of me excusing their actions, or lack thereof, I didn't feel like a burden. Someone had found the grace and humility to hear me, to apologize to me, and learn from how I felt. I wish I could say that I didn't need that to find healing. I wish I could have just found a way to do that without the outcome of people finally showing up, and in someways I did. But this certainly helped me move through a forgiveness process and start healing in a different way.
I guess this is the part that I would have had a hard time hearing a year prior. I keep thinking about how I would react had I heard this kind of truth in the middle of my pain, and a spasm of painful familiarity attacks me. I wouldn’t have heard it then. If I had not experienced it myself, I likely would not believe it now. But the truth is, space and time are a crucial part of the healing process. There is no way that conversation would have happened the way it did had a year not passed and if I was still serving in that ministry. I don't know that grace and humility would have shown up that day for me or for him. While it may feel like avoidance or running or burying this issue - I look at a few experiences in my life where taking a break from something yielded so much pain, but inevitably allowed the truth to show up. Sometimes the truth gets buried in a sea of emotions that you don't even know you are existing in. Once you remove yourself from that situation, you can see and hear and heal a whole lot better.
I am thankful for the time that I had to process and to heal. I am thankful I reached out. I am thankful I was met with the grace. I am thankful for the holistic perspective I now have. While there are days that I am met with the shadow of my hurt, I don't feel like I am screaming without any noise anymore. Someone heard me.
Questions
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:9
Quote
Sometimes you have to make decision that will hurt your heart, but heal your soul. - Rachel Hollis
Song
"Pieces" by Bethel Music
Here is what I do know. Everyone was wounded by this situation. Those that were in the middle of it and those that were on the outskirts of this. No one got to walk away from this unscathed. But when you pile history and previous hurts into a new wound, gosh, it feels like there are weights on your chest that people just keep adding to. It crippled me in every area of my life. I felt like I could not rise up and lead anyone or anywhere. I didn't have it in me. Did you ever have that dream where someone or something is chasing you (usually through quicksand) and you are PETRIFIED? Everything around you is not reality in any capacity, but it is the only thing you can see. And then you try to scream and nothing comes out. You try so hard, over and over, and you can't muster up a single sound. That is what this felt like. It felt like my nightmare playing out and I was trying to find my voice and get back to a reality that was no longer there. Fear enveloped me. Because I felt rejected and like a burden to so many people more than once, I couldn't make a single sound any more. Not in that environment, and not in others. And no one seemed to miss the sound of my voice. I prayed for my heart to change, for the strength to ask for help again. I prayed and prayed and prayed for that shift. And then one day, it happened. I reached out - one more time. I did it for so many reasons. 1) to ask some questions - there were too many unanswered questions for me to be able to process. 2) to be given the opportunity to finally feel heard 3) to share my hurt so that the same mistake wouldn't be made with someone else. Enough time had past where I felt like I could speak from a place of emotional maturity, so I reached out to someone that I cautiously hoped would have the humility and the grace to sit with me. I was willing to give those characteristics another chance to show up. I went in, asked my questions, shared my hurts and the things I lost, and explained how I wished I had been cared for in that time. I spent an hour trying to explain how I had felt for a whole year. For the very first time, in this entire process, I didn't feel like I was fighting to be heard. I didn't feel like there was another person sitting in front of me excusing their actions, or lack thereof, I didn't feel like a burden. Someone had found the grace and humility to hear me, to apologize to me, and learn from how I felt. I wish I could say that I didn't need that to find healing. I wish I could have just found a way to do that without the outcome of people finally showing up, and in someways I did. But this certainly helped me move through a forgiveness process and start healing in a different way.
I guess this is the part that I would have had a hard time hearing a year prior. I keep thinking about how I would react had I heard this kind of truth in the middle of my pain, and a spasm of painful familiarity attacks me. I wouldn’t have heard it then. If I had not experienced it myself, I likely would not believe it now. But the truth is, space and time are a crucial part of the healing process. There is no way that conversation would have happened the way it did had a year not passed and if I was still serving in that ministry. I don't know that grace and humility would have shown up that day for me or for him. While it may feel like avoidance or running or burying this issue - I look at a few experiences in my life where taking a break from something yielded so much pain, but inevitably allowed the truth to show up. Sometimes the truth gets buried in a sea of emotions that you don't even know you are existing in. Once you remove yourself from that situation, you can see and hear and heal a whole lot better.
I am thankful for the time that I had to process and to heal. I am thankful I reached out. I am thankful I was met with the grace. I am thankful for the holistic perspective I now have. While there are days that I am met with the shadow of my hurt, I don't feel like I am screaming without any noise anymore. Someone heard me.
Questions
- What situation deserves time and space? As hard as it is, and as much as you think you can, it's hard to function in the center of messy. Any clarity that you are operating in is buried in grief and reaction. Just take a breath, take a break.
- What frightens you about offering that time and space? I always fear the end of something if I am not in the center of it. This is pretty unhealthy. It makes me the hero, the restorer; or even worse - the one who could not be the hero and restore this. Which brings me to my next question...
- Where is your pride sneaking in here?
- What previous wounds are you wrapping up into this one? This question feels pretty attacking, right? I hear you. I get it. But there is an answer to this. And it hurts so. freaking. bad. But by not acknowledging it, you are allowing that to be louder than your desire to be healed. Here is an open beg from me to you. Identify this wound and strip it of it's power.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:9
Quote
Sometimes you have to make decision that will hurt your heart, but heal your soul. - Rachel Hollis
Song
"Pieces" by Bethel Music
Your love is a fire
Burning bright for me
It's not a spark
It's not just a flame
Your love is a light
That all the world will see
All the world will see
Burning bright for me
It's not a spark
It's not just a flame
Your love is a light
That all the world will see
All the world will see
----------------------------------------------------------
That You don't give Your heart in pieces
You don't hide Yourself to tease us, no
You don't hide Yourself to tease us, no
----------------------------------------------------------
Your love's not fractured,It's not a troubled mind
It isn't anxious, It's not the restless kind
Your love's not passive, It's never disengaged
It's always present, It hangs on every word we say
Love keeps its promises, t keeps its word
It honors what's sacred, 'Cause its vows are good
Your love's not broken, It's not insecure
Your love's not selfish, Your love is pure
It isn't anxious, It's not the restless kind
Your love's not passive, It's never disengaged
It's always present, It hangs on every word we say
Love keeps its promises, t keeps its word
It honors what's sacred, 'Cause its vows are good
Your love's not broken, It's not insecure
Your love's not selfish, Your love is pure
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