What It's About

TRIBEWORK is about consuming the process of life, the journey, together.

Friday, August 30, 2019

Ever been spiritually abused by this one?

There are times in all our lives when we’re sound one moment, skittish the next. Some of us are like that by nature or personality. Some people cannot help it. And it certainly doesn’t make them any less spiritually mature. Think of people who are ‘thinkers’ rather than ‘feelers’. Are they more spiritually mature because they’re seemingly more emotionally stable?
When someone opens their Bible up to James chapter 1, and points to the sixth, seventh and eighth verses, and they look at you like “there is it, right there, see it?” you are forgiven for being either confused, upset, angry or despondent.
A mildly angry response would actually be appropriate. James in this verse is talking about the specific issue of doubting within the specific matter of prayer. Doubting of its own is permissible, one only needs to look at the majority of the Bible to see countless occasions where biblical figures more famed for their faith than you or I battling. Doubting, paradoxically, is a sign of faith. The sad thing with this verse is people who monster it to abuse others only look at the effect and impute it as the cause. Just because we may be double-minded or unstable occasionally doesn’t mean God doesn’t want good things for us. God knows we need encouragement, not our noses rubbed in our failures.
But this is just one ‘for instance’. So many Bible verses are used as cannon fodder for those who weaponise what was meant to be used for lifting others up.
There are times in my life where I’m tossed about on the waves, “blown and tossed by the wind.” The last thing I need at these times is a stern rebuke. What I needed was someone to sit, listen, affirm and encourage. Possibly a ten-minute chat. Sometimes that’s all it took for me to right myself. Yet, for many people and in many situations, the problems of life are far more complex than that.
When we only see the end results of someone’s waywardness, and we jump to the conclusion that they’re spiritually immature or lacking in some other way or “they’ll never make it,” we miss the opportunity to provide the care that the opportunity truly demands of us. We miss the opportunity to learn what they’re really up against. Some of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned came when God wanted to correct my ignorance assumptions. These have been some of my biggest A-HA moments. The humble person sees beyond judgement and looks for the real reasons people behave as they do.
It is spiritual abuse to reel out James 1:6-8 in response to someone being undependable who is genuinely grieving, depressed, anxious, or ailing for any reason.
Now, that is not to say those of us who have times of being unreliable or undependable want things to remain as they are. Most of us want better. The point of this form of spiritual abuse is it never leads to growth. It’s never the right way to lead someone in the faith. We can do much better coming from a standpoint of understanding. Then, we may find the Holy Spirit leads us in knowing what help they find is useful.
The maddening thing about being up and down emotionally is it’s never simple to emend, whether we’re in the moment or reflecting upon it later. The spirit of control that demands that complex issues be made simple never helps and can only hinder.
Let’s get one thing straight; spiritual abuse, or any abuse for that matter, doesn’t have to happen regularly or even more than once. Interacting with fellow humans is an honour and a privilege, and how they feel about our interacting with them is paramount. When we consider we all have the capacity to abuse people, God can give us the spiritual awareness to care in such a way that we don’t.

Photo by _Mxsh_ on Unsplash

Thursday, August 29, 2019

Loving the abuser with nothing less than the love they need

Diane Langberg, PhD, would not consider herself a pastor, but I find she preaches the best sermons—messages for today, for a time when the church is most scrutinised and perhaps most willing (this is our hope) to take a deep look within.
Here is what Langberg suggests regarding love for the abuser:
“If we love the abuser we will know that true repentance is slow and hard, and their words and promises cannot be trusted. Keep in mind that one of the most powerful weapons of deception is the use of spiritual language.”
For starters, if we truly love someone who abuses others, we will not let them have their way—abusive people never opt to do the hard work of recovery, and nearly all of them don’t have the capacity for it in any event. So, it’s never more important to ‘hold the line’ and refuse to love them less by letting them off the hook. Perhaps we’re the only ones they’ve ever encountered who will attempt to hold them accountable. We can never do this by being easily offended. But equally we must hold them to account for the abusive things they say and do—every single one of them.
If we love someone who is abusing us, we will need to understand that their promises to change rarely if ever bear any fruit. Our only chance to help them is if we love them with a love that insists they change if there’s hope remaining for ‘us’, and much of the time we have to accept that it’s realistic to end the toxic arrangement. If God resurrects the arrangement in time well that’s the Lord’s business.
Secondly, and this is a global truth any of us who have recovered from anything can attest to; recovery is slow and hard. True repentance emanates only from deep heart change. There was something that happened within a person who departs from one way of living to embrace something 180 degrees different. Even if this is rare, it does happen, and the true Christian is someone who evidences such heart change in several aspects of their lives. It needs to be said here that, for abusers, change can only be evidenced over several months and into a year or more—and they won’t try and convince you. A year or more is how long it takes to truly see the fruit of the change they have said they’ve made. Be wary of those who talk up the changes they’ve made; but be hopeful of those who let their actions speak.
Thirdly, spiritual language is impressive, and we’ve grown to be impressed by it. We need to be on our guard for flattery and anything that would appear remarkable, inspiring, noteworthy and extraordinary. The paradox is this: those who must impress we should be least impressed, and possibly most concerned, by. Those who don’t need to impress us we may find are the most trustworthy. They don’t need to be ‘seen’ to be content, whereas the person who must be acknowledged, appreciated and recognised is sometimes most coercive. Of course, all humans have human needs, but it’s never good for us or others when we must control others to attain our needs.
Finally, we never have to feel guilty for loving people in a way that leaves them room to win our respect. The respectable person is respectful of the need we have for them to prove they are worthy of our respect. Most people don’t mind having to earn other people’s respect. The person who demands to be respected, however, is on a slippery slope. But this isn’t to say that respect isn’t a need, for it is! We just can never demand it.
It’s a good thing to love an abusive person with nothing less than the love they need, which is a tough brand of love that holds them to account for their own good. They may win us over, and they will have gained our heart in the process, but they will need to prove themselves trustworthy first. If it’s the case that you’re in a relationship with an abuser, however, this kind of love will have a limited affect. Those who love you who are also acquainted with the abuser can and should love them, however, with this tough love.
It is never a good outcome for an abuser or anyone who knows them and is in a relationship of any kind with them to let the abuser off the hook and to make their yoke easy or their burden light. They need a firmer hand than that to truly be loved.

Tuesday, August 27, 2019

Looking for ‘the door’ when you can’t take any more

I suspect we’ve all been there, and many times for that matter. I’ve been there countless times, probably in all reality several hundred times, and usually monthly. It’s funny, even as I typed those words, I was tempted to feel ashamed, unworthy; but, of course, none of us can predict the path our hearts take at times. And even less so if there are triggers. We all have those.
The words of one of our special-needs mothers rang true for me recently: “Today I’m broken. My heart can’t feel anymore,” she said. This is such a common experience for many kinds of people, and especially for those with children with syndromes and disorders. It could have been for any other reason also that she felt this way; I didn’t press her, instead I prayed!
As I read her words, my heart sank. I wondered what had happened. Of course, we know that there is a plethora of circumstances that can provoke such despair.
Sometimes when we hear another person’s account, we completely understand what has tipped them over the edge. Yet, at had other times we secretly wonder why they haven’t coped better. Still, when roles are reversed, we feel comprehensively misunderstood. If only the other person could step into our shoes and feel what we’re feeling, then they would know, and there would simply be the nodding of their head in full agreement at the attack furled against us.
Sometimes there are just no words to describe what we are feeling. With social media we sometimes have the outlet to let out a cry for help. And yet this is no help for those who feel that would leave them too vulnerable. There are many reasons why people feel like they cannot reach out, and particularly, sad as this is, men. But many women don’t have the girlfriends that would simply sit with them, listen without judgement, and be present.
Romans 8 talks about the groans that only the Holy Spirit understands. It’s why some of our prayers are gobbledygook, and yet God still understands even if we can’t. We need to be brave enough to speak gibberish. Call it the gift of tongues!
What we commonly experience when we can’t take any more is the strong desire to bargain for better. It is such a human thing to do, and whether we are Christian or not is irrelevant. Christians don’t normally deal with pain any better than those who don’t know Christ, but they do have the aid of God’s Word that can help encourage them in their despair.
I think I’m a normal person in this way: when I experience pain, I inevitably look for a doorway to relief. I am very sorely tempted to bargain my way there, and yet a long time ago now God showed me the key. The key makes so much sense. It isn’t pretty. It doesn’t sound majestic. It doesn’t even sound miraculous. And yet something miraculous happens when we practice this simple thing.
When I experience pain, like you do I am sure, I want the pain banished. I want it over, because pain speaks of the kind of experience of life that I’m sure feels worse than death. Of course, that cannot be. Death would be far worse, if not for ourselves, certainly for others who care about us. When I experience pain, I am looking for the doorway out. And almost anything will do. Until I realise that there are many doors I could walk through that would take me, spiritually speaking, to death.
Somehow the Spirit of God intercedes in these moments, and a doorway is provided, but it isn’t a doorway we otherwise see of our own volition, nor is it a doorway we even see is attractive. It’s not natural to go through this doorway, but it’s the best thing we can do.
Rather than settling on a bargain, venturing through a doorway that will almost certainly lead to regret, we can choose a different doorway; this doorway is the one we walk through when are we grieve our grief. See, I told you it was simple. I told you it wasn’t attractive. And it isn’t enticing. But it works.
When we can’t take any more, we need to walk through the door. We need to grieve our grief. We need to lament, grizzle and groan. We need to shed tears. And to exhaust ourselves to the end of sleep. For nothing works better in grief than the purity of rest.
Having exhausted our own resources, as the psalmist often did, we reach the end of ourselves and find that God begins there. Yes, there—the power of God! At the end is death at the cross. And what comes after the cross?
Resurrection. God takes us, limp and ready to submit, into divine care, and somehow hope is restored, because we no longer contrive it. But we must first grieve our grief. We cannot avoid it. Grieving our grief is the key.
Now, of course, we can hold God to ransom for ‘resurrection’ too, and what’s that about if not a bargaining? Resurrection always comes, but not always on the third day.

Photo by Jan Tinneberg on Unsplash

Saturday, August 24, 2019

Prayer of empathy for the heartbroken

No matter what moment of history the hands of time reveal, there are always human beings in the desperate state of heartbreak. It happens when relationships end, when loss occurs, when there’s betrayal, and when there’s a lack of capacity to bear one’s reality. There’s a ‘when’ for every single one of us at various points in our lives.
So, this is a perennial prayer.
Covenant God,
Promise giver and promise keeper, it is so hard to remember Your goodness when we suffer heartbreak. We know that You never change, but we just cannot work out how what we experience is for our good, and that very thought leaves us estranged to the trust we need at all times, which is good for us. You understand this challenge that we face day-in, day-out throughout those days of pain where we just cannot get away from ourselves, our thoughts that dog us, and those irrepressible feelings that just will not dim.
You know, our Lord, what heartbreak feels like, within Your nature and through the direct experience of Your Son. Help us to know that You know. Help us to draw closer and feel Your presence with us when we experience the heartache that tears all hope away.
Draw us toward You, God of life, that we would not only know You more and experience Your love deeper in our being during our heartbreak, but that You would also woo us to comfort those who also are heartbroken. Give us a special portion of discernment for the one who is beside themselves in a felt experience of life that overwhelms them in anxious sorrow; an anguish that redefines the term ‘pain’.
As we have been comforted, as we have found You in our lament, help us comfort the one in pain today by a comfort that comes from You, Lord. More than that, my God, make us one with Your Holy Spirit that we would so faithfully rely on You when we provide Your care that the person being cared for feels they’ve had an encounter with You. Show us how to get out of Your way, Lord.
In our heartbreak, gracious God, give us the faith that believes that “this, too, shall pass.” Help us genuinely believe that good times will come again, and yet help us be patient in the present bewildering circumstance. Grace us with a sense of Your presence that shows us something we never knew before, and not just the pain of it, but something additional, perhaps of hope beyond the pain and the depths of Your love in spite of our struggle and striving for comfort.
Make it, Lord, that our past experiences of bearing and wearing pain would somehow be a help to the person who is in torment in their present. Our desire is to provide Your comfort, God.
In Jesus’ name we pray,
AMEN.
Photo by Rohit Guntur on Unsplash

Tuesday, August 20, 2019

The purpose of loss in the plan of life

There are so many synonyms for suffering. And loss is one of them. Think of that for one moment. Any time we are suffering we’re suffering loss. We have lost something tangible or intangible. And usually within one loss is a whole raft of losses. There are layers of loss within the calamity of one loss event.
When we lost that Nathanael, it wasn’t just him that we lost. We lost our hope for a child at that time. We suffered the loss of stress in that season; the toll it took on my wife’s body and the impact of how we were treated by some people. We suffered dramatic change in several relationships. We suffered betrayal. We lost our opportunity to properly grieve our son, because of senseless circumstances. And we continue to suffer loss whenever we see a five-year-old these days, even if our grief has settled for the major part in the gravitas of acceptance.
We have also learned that there’s an upside to life after loss; you receive what you otherwise would never have possessed if you’d not suffered loss.
Here’s the thing: we grew.
As individuals, as a couple,
as servants of the Lord.
Although it involved myriad tumult, although it cast us regularly into the rocks, although we were pressed in without precedent, that season of life proved to us the goodness of God, in spite what God had allowed. The Lord did not want us to be crushed, but a genuinely random genetic condition had enveloped our unborn, yet God proved good by growing our little Nathanael ever so normally in the womb, albeit with compromised lung development. Our faith shone because of the people that were praying for us. Favour came our way even if our lives were spurned with misfortune. Amid the horror of child loss, we faced the opposite reality—by faith our God was there.
Neither my wife nor I were strangers to loss. I lost my first marriage, and if losing Nathanael was trade-work, losing my first marriage was a solid apprenticeship in preparation. Never have I learned more about God—before or since—than at that time. My wife had suffered several losses before she met me, including a variation of ambiguous loss, a traumatic accident that took two years to adjust to, and a relationship that concluded unexpectedly.
You who read this have suffered your own losses. For what purpose?
The purpose of loss in the plan of life
is to teach us what nothing else can.
Loss takes us to the silent and dark ocean bed of truth. It takes us there and it keeps us there, until we learn a vital life lesson. When I lost my first marriage, not one part of my life wasn’t turned completely upside down. There was nothing I could do about it. I simply had to adjust… or perish! Why on earth would I give up on life if I had the equal but opposite choice to be resurrected?
While we live, God desperately wants to give us all the opportunity to face a place of truth we cannot escape from. Not because God’s cruel—but because our Lord is generous and wishes for us to experience this kind of victory against the odds, to learn empathy and compassion, to discover a breadth of life we never saw before, and to taste the depths that are possible in life, in order that we would also know the heights commensurate with those depths.
In sitting in my lonely bedsitter, weeping buckets some nights, missing my children, poring through my Bible, I had space to pray like I never had before. I could not escape God. His Presence was indelible because all the distractions were stripped away, and I desperately needed comfort. I sought the solace of fellowship, and God provided spiritual care for me through wiser, stronger humans. And later, when we lost Nathanael, I cannot tell you the amount of times I’ve heaved healing tears in singing to him. Such sorrow is profoundly healing. It is a beautiful and painful process every time, which just goes to show sackcloth-and-ashes is intrinsically redemptive.
The purpose of loss in the plan of life is obvious to those who’ve been trained by it. Trust it when you’re called there. It won’t make the journey one iota easier, but at least you can trust the direction you’re headed. Keep the faith. There’s no other way.

Photo by Sylas Boesten on Unsplash

Wednesday, August 14, 2019

Psalm 139 – the Believer’s Prayer

O God, You have searched me by name, and there is no doubt that You know me.
I know this and I therefore I believe this.
Lord, You know everything I ever do, including every thought I ever think, and nothing can be hidden from You, even though I and all creation partake in secret things. Help me be honest before You, Lord, and also to not be put to shame. This dualistic reality—to be honest, and to not be ashamed—is only possible through You, Lord. To know I sin and to know I’m not condemned, yet how you call me higher to goodness.
I know this and I therefore I believe this.
Lord, You make it possible for me to relate with You by the immortal bond of life under Your covering, whether I choose to deny You or not. If I deny You, I still cannot stop relating with You. This is a soothing truth.
I know this and I therefore I believe this.
You know before I utter a lie exactly the untruth I’ll say. Nothing is hidden from Your knowledge or sight. You are behind me, in front of me, on top of me, underneath me, indeed, even in me within the depths of my visceral being.
I know this and I therefore I believe this.
How can I know You, Lord? Your ways are so much higher and infinitely majestic. I cannot know what You know, yet You desire that I would know You, and You make Yourself available to me; nothing of You is withheld from me, and yet I can only know so much.
I know this and I therefore I believe this.
There is nowhere I can go, and You wouldn’t know. You know my days, my presence, my thoughts, my ways. You know me when I’m near to You and when I’m far from You. Within every place and every state, You are ready to hold me and guide me. All I have to say is, “Yes, please, Lord.”
I know this and I therefore I believe this.
Lord,You exist in the fullness of light in pitch darkness, and if I hide in that darkness You see me plain as day! And You even created me in darkness, without any human knowledge; in the depth of my mother’s womb You made me as sacredly as any creature. As each cell multiplied and became myriads of myriads, tissue upon tissue, You knit each part of the fabric of me together to Your holy satisfaction and for Your kingdom purpose; all in sacred safety. Even before my frame was clothed, even before I took a breath, You ordained all my days down to the foundation of moments, each with its divine purpose. The preciousness of Your thoughts about me are infinite and how foolish would I be to attempt to count them? Your grace is amazing, and Your love is dazing. I can’t imagine how good You actually are.
I know this and I therefore I believe this.
And that You would ask me what I think of the wicked! I hate them with a holy hatred, Lord, that implores Your Spirit to hasten them to repent before You. Call them to the truth, Lord, but if they ignore You, Lord, I will speak Your justice at the right time. Help me discern it, Lord. And of that measure to do only that which would make Your name known for the wonderful name it is.
I know this and I therefore I believe this.
I believe in You to the extent of this, Lord. Bring me to the knowledge of my ways. Bring me to account for each and every thought, affection, will and desire—good, bad and indifferent. Give me this knowledge of self in the glory of Your truth. Make me never shy away from what is real but make me to shun lies that come from within me and that are shed abroad through word, gesture and action. Know me in the anxieties of my insecurity and make me to shun the hiding I’m tempted to engage in.
I know this and I therefore I believe this.
Always. For. Ever. More. AMEN.

Photo by Ravi Pinisetti on Unsplash

Tuesday, August 13, 2019

Be under no false apprehension, the enemy hates you

Oh God, this can only be a prayer!
You remind me that there is an enemy of all humankind and of all creation and that enemy has set its sights on stealing from you, killing all possibility of life, and ultimately destroying us. Let us not be under any false apprehension.
But help the one under relentless attack right now to know that you are mightier than anything the enemy can throw at them!
Lord, I won’t dignify the enemy with a status as a being, whether there is being or not, for I’m hateful of this enemy for what it does to us, within our relationships, and ultimately its offence to you. But I also know that you mightily beyond any such offence.
Teach this truth to the one under relentless attack right now. Inculcate confidence in them to deflect the incoming poisonous darts.
Lord, you have shown me just how much the enemy despises me and everything I stand for. You have revealed to me how relentless the pursuit of the enemy is toward those who love you. You have displayed through living experience how the enemy twists circumstances and minds and contrives all kinds of lies to diminish our sense of worth, which can never truly be doubted in you. You have arrayed within me an understanding of just how much a scourge the enemy is, and how much it cannot rest until we are crushed. Yet, you are the one who uses crushing for our spiritual benefit whenever we turn to you.
Lord, you know this is personal, and that the enemy always makes it personal. You also know that I know that you are the only sure and safe avenger. I trust you, Lord. 
Sovereign God, who created the earth and the heavens, and knew what would happen, you are the only one who can deal with this. I’m so thankful that you have dealt with it—1,990 years ago! I stand on that victory. I claim it as my own, even if my life is ripped apart and there is nothing of it that remains.
I trust you, in the mighty name of Jesus!
AMEN.
Photo by Motoki Tonn on Unsplash

Saturday, August 10, 2019

Being wary of the perils of relationships early on

This is not just about romantic relationships, but let’s hang the shingle there. It’s equally relevant in all relationships, including in the workplace, in churches, in sporting clubs—wherever there is the will to exert and resist control.
Let’s start here, for this is a common illustration of the most perilous of starts in terms of relationships. Be wary of anyone you ‘meet’ online. There’s nothing wrong with a little (or a lot of) scepticism. Anyone who allows you to withhold your trust is potentially the real deal, but just as much that can be a ‘tactic’; and your trust, being honest, is something many find hard to withhold. See how impossible it is to tell if you’re dealing with a safe person or not? For even those we know face-to-face, red flags may only be noticed a year down the track. By that stage they have won their way into your heart and they have worked their way into your life. How costly is the wrong person or a toxic relationship in your life? Far too costly if you ask me.
~
We invest so much of ourselves in our relationship. So the other person may say the same thing, whether it’s legitimate or not. Our hearts are sown into the very relationships that destroy us when we feel betrayed; especially when we begin to feel controlled. Now, there are some contractual relationships that do feature control—employment contracts, for instance. But it’s not the same in the relationship with our life partner, nor is it for relationships where we must relate as colleagues. Even in employment arrangements, it’s best with employers and employees that there’s a thick layer of passionate bipartisanship.
Let’s speak about control for a moment. Nobody, traditionally, has appreciated the feeling of being controlled by another person. It’s even more an issue in these days of entitlement.
The relationships we have to be most wary of are those where either overt or covert control is exerted. When this happens, resistance is normal. But so is a rise in the toxicity of the relationship. In relationships where submission is the only way one party can keep the peace, there is a desperate need of truth. 
But if truth is the input in unsafe relationships where the other person will not relinquish control or their desire to control the other, toxicity will rise, and the relationship is approaching a breaking point.
The person speaking truth may feel indelible pressure to restore the balance and bring equilibrium, and therefore hope of a genuinely loving relationship. But if their partner is a my-way-or-the-highway kind of person, the relationship will face fracture.
Early on there are red flags. But the trouble is when would we like to see them? See them early and our awareness piques and it causes us no end of stress, because we know things must change and that feeling never leaves. See them too late and we feel stupid for not seeing them earlier. Seeing red flags is both necessary and tragic.
Signs of a good relationship early on can be extremely hard to discern. Things may start out well, and they may change. They may be behaving in a problematic way, but if we’re not savvy in our awareness we won’t notice until we’re too invested. It might be that they see something in us that they hadn’t seen beforehand and their passionate interest wanes—this always feels like a such a great travesty of betrayal.
By the stage we’re fully invested in a relationship, the other person has won their way into our heart and they have worked their way into our life. Somehow we must keep a foot outside the camp, be open to the honest thoughts and hunches of trusted others, save some doubt amid our infatuation, and understand that those we’re best entwined with are those who will allow us to protect ourselves.

Photo by Joseph Chan on Unsplash

Wednesday, August 7, 2019

We are all ‘triggered’ by something

Recently I was triggered. Do you know what I mean? Survivors of abuse are often too well adept at feeling what we all feel from time to time, but others may not recognise triggering for what it is. Abuse ‘teaches’ us all too sadly to imprint these stimuli and they often catch us by surprise.
Triggering is a sign of trauma having made its way indelibly into our psyches, and it is also a phenomenon of facing such trauma again.
The point of this article is not to explain anything but to simply say, we are all triggered by something. This is helpful to trauma survivors because the very last thing they want, and the very first thing they feel, is shame for isolation, for being less-than others; of course, when we’re triggered, the last thing that runs through our minds is that others face the very same things. We feel all alone in the world, weak, vulnerable, out-of-control, and unworthy of being human—even if being triggered is all about being human!
I want you to know that although I’m not triggered every day, every single month of my life I’m triggered at least once. I don’t joke that I have something akin to a hormonal cycle. But it’s also the circumstances, the states of my relationships, and my perception of time, and how much control I have or don’t have, that are keys.
If there’s little or no stress in my life, everyone’s happy with me, I’m serving people well, being efficient and effective, and I have time on my side, there is nothing to trigger me. But we all know that life’s not like that all the time. Some weeks I know I just have to endure and be patient with myself and others. Other weeks everything runs well. But some weeks will feature a day or perhaps even two (usually not consecutively), or an evening when I’m under extreme attack. All sorts of horrid thoughts fill my mind. My heart is betwixt and between, and even people who seem to know me well would be surprised by how quickly I can descend.
But I’ve learned by now that “this too shall pass” and I’m thankful for that moment when spiritual clarity returns and I’m confident in myself again.
I’m thankful also that I have a life partner who can bear the struggle with me; who nudges me when I need it; who listens and isn’t afraid to speak.
Everyone has their hot buttons. Everyone is triggered by something, whether you suffer the effects of trauma or not. And for sufferers of trauma, there is encouragement; you are not alone, and you are human.
Go gently in your struggle, in that interminable moment when horrendous thoughts course through your mind. Give yourself and others grace when they are ‘reacting’ absurdly or seem to be right out of character. These are incredibly redemptive moments if we’re as gentle as we can be with one another.
Photo by Luis Galvez on Unsplash

Saturday, August 3, 2019

When you say, ‘I’m ready’, watch out; be readier than ever

There are years in all our lives that end up being pivotal. 2012 started as a sleeper of a year. Neither did I have any concept of what would be demanded of me, nor did I recognise what God was already doing.
I entered a postgraduate counselling program at the beginning of the year, and I can remember sitting in orientation thinking, “What on earth am I doing here?” Entering a master’s program, embarking on the very first day, I wasn’t so much daunted by the challenges ahead as I was about the massive journey of time involved and the amount of assessments I would need to do. I was pretty sure I had what it took to succeed. And, as I look back, I did. But I had a blind spot I naturally wasn’t aware of. That would need to be dealt with. I had no idea. And this was the year!
I commenced lectures in counselling adults, art therapy, and also did units in counselling children and couples. In a cohort of 23, me being one of only three men, I found myself well accepted and liked. But you never realise when you embark upon a journey like this how even one moment, literally a few seconds in the scheme of things, within an entire year, can set up the entire year’s learning. This is how it was for me.
A very scary thing happened. In the group therapy context, one that I’ve always struggled in, I made a remark and the facilitator, being diligent, pounced on it. I knew immediately that I had said the wrong thing. I can’t recall what I said, but I endeavoured to hurry the process along, which revealed an anxiety within me that I was unconscious of, yet needed to be dealt with. I’ll never forget the facilitator’s look. It was like the penny dropped for her. In any and every counselling program there are these tests that await all of us, and we can either shrink with shame when the chink in our armour is revealed or we can accept it and move with it. I did both. I guess I sweated on the feedback I got; an assessment around that time. But I was determined to keep going; not avoid the pain, but travel through it.
As it turned out, I could not avoid undergoing a rigorous program of counselling treatment myself. It was suggested I undergo some psychoanalysis. I went with my facilitators hunch to go to a psychoanalyst who appeared aloof at first. He was hand-picked for me and my issue. We worked on my dreams—the stuff of my nightly subconscious escapades, not the other fluffier kind! For the first and only time in my life, over a two-month period, I ‘banked’ recall of the dreams I had in all their technicolour weirdness. I don’t ordinarily recall dreams, but during this period I saw my dreams vividly.
I journaled in essay-like detail the particulars of several fascinating dreams, and through the course of my weekly sessions with ‘Ken’ we picked through the themes in these dreams. First there was a psychoanalytic identification phase, then psychoanalysis, before a conclusion was made. The prescription was a book—a secular sociology book, and not a new one.
Within this book’s pages, I learned something about being a man that was hard to face. I had to face an inbuilt fear that I’d had all my life; something I’d avoided and what had held me back without my even knowing it. I learned about something in most if not all men since the industrial revolution. It made me feel pity for myself and other men. It gave me empathy for men and an interest in getting to know them. Until this point I had very little interest talking to men about boring men stuff. But the fact was there is always much deeper below every man, and suddenly with my own fear of men checked, together with my newfound interest in men, I suddenly was much better placed to enter ministry.
The key here, though, was the fact that I had to face the fears I would’ve avoided if I could have. As I said, the year started as a sleeper, and I didn’t know what was ahead, but looking back, despite its hairy moments and deep challenge to my identity, I’m so glad for what happened.

Thursday, August 1, 2019

Prayer for those who suffer trauma from abuse

Heavenly Father
Who gave us his own Son, to die as a sinless man for the sins of all humankind, you know better than anyone the heinous reality of injustice. You suffered rejection then, you suffered rejection at the fall, and you’ve suffered rejection every day since. And yet, you suffer humanity so patiently. Knowing your ways are higher than our ways and your thoughts are so high above our own, we do not expect you suffer like we do, but as we’re made in your image, we know there is divine empathy for what we suffer, and as we suffer, you know acutely just how much we agonise for not being able to reconcile our pain.
You know, Lord, better than any physician, or psychologist or psychiatrist or trauma therapist, just how deep and wide and long and far the furrows of trauma go. As any of us helpers in the field of therapy are concerned, there is a mystery at play in how trauma wreaks its path of havoc for the abuse sufferers suffer. You know that every trauma sufferer needs you.
You know, Lord, that the path of life is seriously curtailed for those who suffer post-traumatic stress, and yet it’s our prayer that when we suffer for what could never be and never was our fault we would experience the very life that you accord to your faithful. Lead us in the way everlasting. Cause hope to well up and to overflow our cup. Make it that anyone who has been horrendously treated would rise up through a miraculous gifting that could only come from you. We pray you compensate them somehow.
You know, Lord, just how much the abused deserve their chance at life. You know the cost they’ve borne. You know that though few people ‘deserve’ anything, those who have been traumatised very truly deserve a fortuitous run in life. Make the way straight and clear, and the path to help, certain. Give us every good thing for our healing. And commend us all by the assurance of your Spirit for the courage we exemplify every single moment of every single day.
You know, Lord, just how much the grief of loss has cost the person who has been shabbily treated for a sustained period. You know that they carry that grief with them a long time, and just how much it affects them on a daily, even momentary basis.
Impress on our hearts, Lord, just how proud you are of us for stepping out our lives faithfully in response to cruelty. 
Help us, Lord, to feel your compassion when we respond emotionally, your poise when we feel out of control, your calmness when we’re all at sea, your grace when our mind is a fog, your comfort when our hearts are anguished.
Help us, Lord, be courageous when it comes to our healing, and praise us by your Spirit when we’re honestly humble in seeking help. Make of us paragons of example, as we admit the effects of trauma and allow the course of God’s healing, showing everyone around us that we’re gracious to and with ourselves, as we should be with everyone.
Thank you, Lord, for the leadership of the abused when they are examples of how to suffer the effects of trauma graciously. And thank you, Lord, that they bear in their mortal bodies the scars of a common or a not-so-common brokenness that encourages all of us who identify as broken.
Most of all, Lord, give us all the very things we need right now; confidence when we lack belief; patience with ourselves in our anger; compassion from and for others in disappointment; justice at the right time; great physicians and the best treatments; and comforting, encouraging fellow pilgrims.
It’s in Jesus’ name I pray, Your Son who too was abused
AMEN.

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash