12 Stepping God's Way
I've mentioned in previous postings that a great deal of the healing God has done in me, He did through a 12 step spiritual journey called Abba (Daddy). The basis for Abba was God's promise to heal. Isaiah 57:18-19 says
I have seen his ways but I will heal him, I will guide and restore comfort to him. Through the 12 step process, we learned who we really are in Christ, and that we are not defined by the baggage we learned to carry as a result of our childhoods. Instead, we learned how to take the baggage and lay it at Jesus's cross...and how to leave it there!!! Abba teaches real, bona fide, change..that starts in the heart and becomes "worked out" through examination and confession. Lamentations 3:40 says
let us examine our ways and test them and let us return to the Lord. Confession is a prerequisite to change; confession to God our Father, and confession to at least one other person.
Abba taught me Faith, Trust and Hope...faith that God has and always had a plan and a purpose for my life, trust that God is willing and able to take me through to peace and healing, and hope that I am being made fit for His intended purpose, and as a result, am being restored to right relationship with others.
For it is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose (Phil 2:13)
So, here are the 12 steps of Abba along with the scriptural support of each:
- We admitted we were powerless over the effects of our separation from God; that our lives have become unmanagable (I know nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out (Rom 7:18)
- Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity; for the purposes of Abba, that Power has shown Himself to be God our Father in Heaven (For it is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose (Phil 2:13)
- Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understand Him and for the purposes of Abba, we understand Him to be the Father of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. (Therefore, I urge you brother, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God, which is your spiritual act of worship (Rom 12:1)
- Made a searching and fearless inventory of ourselves. (Let us examine our ways and test them, and let us return to the Lord (Lam 3:40)
- Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs. (Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed (James 5:16a)
- Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character. (Humble yourselves before the Lord and He will lift you up (James 4:10)
- Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings. (If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9)
- Made a list of all persons we had harmed and became willing to make amends to them all. (Do to others as you would have them do to you (Luke 6:31)
- Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure them or others. (Therefore, if you are offering your gift at the alter and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there in front of the alter. First go, and be reconciled to your brother, then come and offer your gift. (Matt 5:23-24)
- Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it. (So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don't fall (1 Cor 10:12)
- Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that out. (Let the Word of Christ dwell in you richly (Col 3:16a)
- Having a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to others, and to practise these principles in all our affairs. (Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted (Gal 6:1)
So there you have it. This particular 12 step was called Abba because God is our Daddy, and He is the Father in our new "family of origin". Our own families of origin often were chaotic and from that chaos we each did our best to "be", learning and employing behaviors or characteristics intended to help us survive. Those characteristics may have worked for us when we were children but they are not God pleasing now. I have a saying....I was not responsible for what happened to me as a child, but I am responsible to do something about it now that I'm an adult. I have another saying...my definition of responsibility is my ABILITY to RESPOND to the call of God in my heart and on my life. He has called us all to Himself, to enjoy Him, to glorify Him, to love and worship Him and to love others. In order to do that, the sinful characteristics that we have clung to in order to survive have to be recognized, confessed and let go. Abba identifies 9 such characteristics that are typical of people who had to learn how to survive.
Today
So, now that my testimony is done...for the most part....and lest anyone think that my simplistic conclusion means that I have
"arrived", far from it!!! Here is where I am today.
My marriage still struggles. I still struggle in it, and I still lean towards selfishness in it. But I'm also learning to let go, and overlook the little offenses that send my thoughts into me, me, me mode. I'm learning how to love Jim all over again. When I'm not only looking at me, I see in him an integrity that makes me feel safe. He is a man I can truly respect, and that thrills me. I have ceased striving, trying to fix it. He belongs to God and my prayers for him are centered on his wellbeing, and God's glorification.
I still struggle. Seems to me that God peels one layer at a time, revealing things in my character that only He can change. He sheds His light on it, one sinful characteristic, or attitude, or behavior at a time...then, when He finally has me at that place where I'm no longer afraid to look , I inevitably hate what I see, which makes me run to the thrown of grace, turning it over to Him. I have ceased striving trying to perfect my own holiness. It can't be done. I fall, I get up, I fall, I get up. And He brings a wee bit of healing or holiness each time. Sanctification is God's pervue...not ours.
I still wonder about my future. I still have a desire to to peacemaking and ministry, perhaps teaching, or counselling other women who have a story similar to mine..or not even remotely close to mine. At this point, only God knows the plans He has for me, while I know that I will not be disappointed. He either really does cause all things to work together for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose......or we're all hooped. I have ceased striving trying to figure out my future, and how to get there. One day at a time, sweet Jesus.
There's an exercise we do in Abba 12 step. It's called "The Throne Room". We're asked to close our eyes and see ourselves in the throne room of God and then describe how we see it. The first time I did it, the throne room was massive, the ceilings out of sight, and God was on a throne way, way, way up there. I stepped into the throne room and immediately cowered behind a column. I couldn't look up at God. At the end of that season of Abba, we were asked to do the exercise again. This time, I ventured into the throne room, but only about half way. I was able to tell Him that I was thankful and I pictured His smile.
When I started facilitating my own Abba small groups, and we'd do the throne room exercise in each successive season, what I envisioned each time was different, progressing a little bit more into intimacy with every new exercise. In one, Jesus and I were walking along a stream and He playfully shouldered me....in another, I was sitting on the arm of God's throne, chatting His ear off. The last time I did the throne room exercise, I pictured myself walking into the throne room....I left the door open behind me as I ran towards His throne....and He got up and ran towards me. He gathered me in His arms and gave me a huge hug.
God has brought me to the end of myself twice. The first time it was to bring me home to Him. The second time it was so I would discover why He is so worth it. Maybe He'll have to bring me to end of myself again......and again.....and again. I don't know. I suppose we shall see.
I'm going to continue on this blog, but it won't be for my day to day stuff. I'm going to write about the Abba 12 step and some of the things it taught me. I'm also going to share some of the peacemaking tools that have been so integral to resolving so much of the conflict in my life, starting with the conflict within...which is where all peacemaking has to begin. I might even share some of my personal bible studies. So, I hope that you'll continue to stop by every once in a while....and leave comments as long and as detailed as you want, to share some of your own experiences with struggles, and sin, and how God has brought you through.
Thank you for coming with me this far.
Striving
A not so funny thing happens when we can no longer feel the presence of the Lord. We start trying harder. Though, He is never very far from any of us. How can He be? He came to make His home in our hearts. So when I say "God withdrew", it is not to say literally. He is a keeper of His promises and when He said
"I will never leave you nor forsake you" He meant it. It is just that it FELT like He withdrew.
It started almost imperceptively. Prayers started to bounce off the ceiling, then gradually began to feel routine. It's hard to tell which was worse, feeling unheard, or feeling like a broken record. My first thought as I awoke each morning was no longer of Him, and my last thought before I retired at night wasn't either. Now my thoughts revolved around me, what I wanted and didn't have, and what I had and didn't want. Self was back. Well, actually self had never left, but just like any new love relationship between men and women, in the first blushs of love, it's all about the other, but only so long as each of their own needs are getting met. When that stops, either demandedness sets in, or break up does. Of course God was needing my need - I just didn't know that His definition of what I needed most was completely different from mine.
So, as had become my lifelong habit when things were no longer working, and I'd lost the ectasy of "first love", I had to know why.... so I could fix it. I tried harder. My prayers felt dead and lifeless? I read all I could on prayer. My walk with God seemed distant and remote? I repented, and looked for root causes, and ancestral curses, and open spiritual doors, to bring Him back to me, as obviously, I'd done something wrong. I tithed more, got involved in church more, read my bible more, and looked for reasons, and answers, and causes and cures. Can you picture a chicken running around with it's head cut off?
Every Christian inspirational author I read had a name for it..some called it a "desert experience", some called it "being stretched", some called it "necessary brokenness", and all had a special prayer, or formula, or program to be employed or enacted to make it better. I tried them all. Really, when you think about it...what's the difference between Christian inspiration and secular self help, when it becomes all about me, myself, and I?
When none of that worked, it became Jim's fault. It was because he wasn't walking with God. Remember when Jesus told the rich young ruler "
the one thing you lack....?" Well, my marriage became my ONE THING. If only the one thing I lacked.....a godly husband, an intimate, and connected marriage.....would happen, then I'd be happy again. So I read all I could on marriage, so I could pray and love (manipulate) my husband back into the kingdom. My striving for a godly marriage almost killed it.
When that didn't work, my circumstances became the new ONE THING. I was working at a secular career, yoked in an ungodly business partnership. If only the one thing I lacked...a godly ministry,... (because, after all, wasn't I destined for great things)...would manifest, then I'd be happy again. So I pounded my living room floor, begging God to remove me from the partnership and my career and raise me up into a ministry. Sure enough, and completely unsolicited, my partners approached me one day to say they had a new vision for the firm. In order for it to work, the branches had to be shut down, and so, "would I sell them my shares". I agreed, and signed a 3 year covenant to continue on as their employee. One year into the contract, the firm imploded from the inside out and was dissolved. I was the only partner who got out with their original investment.
So, now I was free, and unemployed, and it seemed like the possibilities were endless. With every intention of using my spare time (something I'd never had before) .... to read the Word, do volunteer work at the church, and strive my way back into God's good graces, I started 2003 in a funk. My marriage was as distant as ever, my son was beginning to rebel, and "my ministry" wasn't happening. And the longing in my heart got deeper and deeper and more painful. After all was said and done, and I got silent and still for the first time in years, I was left with ONE THING ... I was desperate for God, and He was gone.
I recall afternoons alone in my bedroom, staring out the window, my heart shattered into a million little pieces because I couldn't find God. I remember laying in the fetal position in my closet, weeping in pain, because I couldn't find God. Where had He gone? Why did He leave me? The pain in my heart at the thought that somehow I just wasn't measuring up and He finally had had enough and left, was devastating. I wanted to die. Really. I had an ungodly belief. Because of what Jesus had done for me on the cross, God was more or less obligated to accept me into heaven, and I remember thinking,
"well, at least I could be with Him" And somehow, in that pain and longing, trapped in the spiral of such thinking, I discovered my greatest joy. I truly, completely, madly, and deeply longed for God. No one (not Jim), nothing (not a godly marriage), and no circumstance (wealth, health and success in some ministry) would ever satisfy me. My ONE THING ...the thing I needed more than all other things...and the one thing I lacked, was to know, that I know, that I know, that God, and God alone, was who I longed for, and even that, for no other reason than because He is God.
It's that simple. This realization dawned on me just over a year ago. I can have all that I thought I wanted...godly marriage, godly children, fruitful ministry...but none of it will ever measure up to having God Himself. Therein lies the "secret", from eternity until now. Seek first God, and all these THINGS will be added unto you...except, things are just things.....and God is God. Who and what is better than that!!!!!!
Today? Well, the euphoria is gone. Except that once in a while, God will sneak up behind me and catch me when I least expect it, and nuzzle my ear and tell me He loves me. When He does that, I am overwhelmed with joy. I am content.....perhaps not satisfied...but somehow, I don't thing that will happen until I am actually with Him in Heaven, and then satisfaction is not the word to describe what that will be like!! But I am at eirene....peace. I am centered and I am grounded...which is to say....no matter what has happened, no matter what will happen....God is my center. He is my reason, He is my being, He is my breath and He is truly my life. There is no one I would rather please..... rather be with.... rather love..... and rather be loved by. It's that simple. It makes no sense, but it's the way He designed it. And it's good enough for me.
God is God. He loves you and He loves me with a love that cannot be expressed adequately in human language. And He has placed in us a........homesickness.........for Himself. When your heart hurts....consider this....perhaps it hurts for God, for His actual, realized presence. We can find contentment in that...maybe not satisfaction...but, oh the day will come!!!! But for now, we content ourselves in the knowledge.....this longing? this missing? It is for our Father in heaven. And just think....He has the same longing for you!
Into the Father's Arms
Something very real happened the night I surrendered my life over to my Father in heaven. I wept for what felt like an eternity on my living room floor, and the next morning....well, the world just looked different. I remember driving to Richmond that morning and the mountains in the north looked crispier, more defined, larger, greener, the sky bluer, the clouds whiter...He was showing Himself to me all over again, through His creation, just like He had on that evening when I was 6 or 7 and wondered "Who made all this?". It was almost as if He was answering that question once and for all, sealing His identity into my heart, never to be questioned or doubted again.
From that night forward I hungered for His word like nothing else, and devoured it from cover to cover over and over again. I couldn't wait for alone time, so I could read my bible, do my studies and pray. I started journaling my prayers in letters to God, and they were so full of wonder. And as I ventured into this new found relationship, He slowly gave me back my feelings and emotions. It seemed like for the first 2 years after I returned to our Father's arms, I couldn't stop crying....tears of pain, and grief for sure, but also, tears of healing, joy, forgiveness, peace and grace. Having been so numb and so hard for so long, crying was at first, very scary for me. Then it became almost second nature, and sometimes ridiculously inconvenient. I can recall mornings on the way to work, where I'd think about Him and start bawling like a baby for joy!!! I remember telling Him once...
" I know I asked You to have Your way in my heart, but come on, this is getting silly" Then I started laughing and crying even more at the wonderment of having a Creator, Omniscient, Omnipresent, All Knowing, Sovereign, Just Lord and Majestic King that I could actually talk to like He was a best friend or lover.
Some of the changes that came about during those first few months of our new relationship were quick and miraculous. God immediately delivered me from my need for drink, and freed me from cigarettes within a few months. Then one day I discovered I'd simply quit biting my fingernails, which was something I'd done since I had teeth.
He delivered me from the memories of my past, including flashbacks that I learned to tamp down, and granted me the grace to forgive Rick and myself. I pray for Rick now and hope the eyes of his heart will be opened to God's amazing grace and love. It is my sincere wish that he call on the name of the Lord and be saved. The break through to forgiveness came one night as I lay prone before God on my den floor and the next morning as I was reading the Word, I came across the scripture
" Behold, I have taken your heart of stone and given you a heart of flesh", and I knew that I knew that He had done that very thing in me the night before.
He, through His Word, renewed my mind and changed my thinking concerning who I was in Jesus Christ. He delivered me from shame, and cemented into my heart the certainty that He had adopted me, I was His bona fide daughter, and He would never leave me nor forsake me. He doesn't un-adopt!! I needed to know that. I needed to be absolutely assured, totally and unwaveringly believing, without a shadow of a doubt, that I was in Christ Jesus and He was in me, and nothing would or could ever separate me from His love. I believe that we all need to know that, with a kind of "I'd stake my life on it" calm, because it seems to me that God heals and restores the "surface" stuff first, sort of setting us in a foundation that keeps us grounded for when He goes deeper. And deeper He inevitably goes. I read a book that said "God loves us too much to leave us the way we are". I believe the first years of "euphoria" in a new relationship with Him are God's way of cementing that foundation, so we keep solid during the times that He uses trial and struggle to go into the heart and do the really meaty work.
For me, the first trial came about 2 years after my initial and exhilarating growth spurt. It started with a tiny sense of Him having withdrawn. We had been so close. I had "felt" Him everywhere, and saw Him in everyone. So, now what was happening? This sounds over the top, but it was extremely terrifying and it took every ounce of courage I could muster to keep on trusting. More about that next time.
Coming Home
When I say God started whispering that I return to Him "out of the blue", I meant, literally. By then, it was the summer of 1997, and I had "relative" peace...the counterfeit kind, numbness, but was almost ready to accept it as just the way to be. I had for the most part stopped my "self help" work, and was dabbling in New Age ideology, and "spirituality". I was a partner in the firm I was with, running an office in Richmond, with the respect and even admiration of my friends, colleagues, clients and business associates. Oh, the things we accept as cheap substitutes for the love of the Father.
My commute to Richmond took about 45 minutes each way, and for the most part, I drove those commutes in thought. One such morning, under a blazing sun in the vast blue sky, one thought came, unbidden
.....Jesus. I hadn't thought about Him in years. In fact, I had made a point to avoid all thought of Him and looked for every excuse to justify why I was no longer a "narrow minded, intolerable, Christian". Even when the kids were going to Sunday school with Jim, I refused to acknowledge what it was they were being taught. I remember the day both kids came home to tell me they'd been saved. I was on the couch, watching TV, drinking coffee, and smoking a cigarette. My reaction was about as enthusiastic as mom's had been when I told her the same thing many years before...
"mmm, that's nice"....end of subject. On that morning, while driving to Richmond, the thought came again
.....JESUS!....and then a barrage of other thoughts..
"you miss Him, you need Him, when are you going to return to Him". I think I flipped in a CD...end of subject.
When one sheep is missing from the flock, the Lord leaves the flock and goes searching for that one lost sheep. He is fierce and undaunted in His search. He is determined to find His lost sheep and to bring her or him back into the fold, back to His Father. It's a mission for Him, one for which He can not help Himself. The Father's heart is crying for the child He adopted and who has strayed, and the Son's heart is crying for the Father's. They will always and forever satisfy the cries of eachother's heart. There is no greater love than the Father for the Son and the Son for the Father. It's that simple, and for that reason, I have absolute certainty and trust that every child of God who decides he'd rather light his own path with his own flame and warm himself with his own fire, will be brought back into the Father's embrace. I'm convinced of it. Even when we are not faithful, God is faithful for He cannot help Himself.
So, Jesus searched me out. Through the rest of that summer, into fall and winter, He drew me, not by power and not by might but by the Holy Spirit, continuing with His thought invasions until I began to admit that I really did miss Him, and like the prodigal son, I wanted to go home.
Of course, given the pride in me and fear over what Jim would say or do about it, I used the kids as my excuse to start going to church again. By this time, Jim had stopped taking them to Sunday school. Dani was nearing 13 and I kept thinking church would be a good way to ensure she didn't become a problem teenager, caught up in partying and promiscuity. Ironic eh? My mom used "
this Jesus thing" as her attempt to fix our family and I was using it as my excuse to return to church, but more than that, I had a fear that my children would go down my path, and I didn't want them to. Deep in my heart of hearts I recognized Jesus as the ONLY way to life, so we started going to church January 1998. We attended a large, calmly charismatic church in Langley, and the first few Sundays were very disconcerting for me...every time I went, I cried. I hated that!! But there were no races to the alter or pledges of re-commitment. It was more like a smoldering ember that very slowly began to flame to life again. I had picked up a bible by that February or March, and began reading it..insatiably, and one night, I just knew. My life could no longer be my own. I belonged to God. He paid for me with the blood of His Son, and I had no choice but to completely surrender to Him. And I didn't want any other choice. On one deep night, in the quiet of my living room, I went to my knees and asked Him to forgive me my rebellion, arrogance, selfish pride, and for having treaded all over the blood of His Son. I asked Him to receive me back, that I was at the end of my rope. If I couldn't know Him, life wasn't worth living. I threw myself on His mercy, completely surrendered, broken and desperate. And He lifted me up and received me back into His loving arms.
My life has not been my own since....though there are have been many times when I tried to reclaim it. More about that some other time.
Trying to Fix it My Way
The counsellor at the crisis center started me off on a journey of "self help". Now, in looking back, I suspect it only delayed my healing. But that's the grand deception isn't it? That we humans don't need anyone but ourselves to make our lives work? Looking out for No 1 started in the garden, and has morphed into a billion dollar industry that culminates in millions of isolated, unauthentic, hurting, wounded, sinfilled people doing "self help", being their own little gods, working at making their lives manageable, even if it only looks that way to their watchers.
Self help also leads to self indulgence. Reading some psychologist's book explaining why I had so much rage only served to give it an excuse. Following formulas for anger control, or chanting affirmations to gain esteem just touched the surface. I had a picture once, when I was thinking on this very thing years later. It was of an iceburg. I was on top of it, on my hands and knees, scatching at the ice with my nail. I'd managed to gouge out a tiny crevice, completely ignorant as to the immensity of all that lay under the water. That's self help. Only God can empty, break, heal and fill the heart, though we humans, who instinctively know that, do everything in our own power to avoid that truth. Just let me do it my way is our mantra. And God lets us.
So began my self help years. I read everything and all there was on "toxic parents", "adult survivors", "dysfunctional family of origin issues", "abandonment syndrome" and "post tramautic stress disorder". I had a label for each of my behaviors, and a neat and tidy, packaged explanation as to why I did what I did, and didn't do what I couldn't, and couldn't do what I wanted, and wouldn't do what I should. When I became expert enough, I was even helpful to others, in their own journeys into "growth" and "holistic wellness". I became a "lay" counsellor of sorts, "empowering" other women to "know, forgive and love their inner child". All very schmultzy and all very new age, and none of it very effective. Well, I shouldn't say that....it was somewhat effective in teaching me anger management, and very effective in showing me how to numb out. Because there came a point after all those years of "self help" that I got the sense that I either had to "crap or get off the pot". There is only so much "inner improvement" that one can do before you realize it really isn't working. Sure, I got enlightenment...that explains it....but now what? How to fix it? So, I went to see a therapist. She thought I was "extremely high functioning", and had come a long way, but there was one piece of my puzzle still missing....closure. She suggested that all I needed now was "accountability" and "closure", "validation" and maybe even gratification of my need for justice. I hadn't been heard as a child, and then told to shut up about it when I disclosed as a teen, yadayadayada and a little dab of validation will do ya. So, I reported Rick to the police.
He was charged with offences related to sexual misconduct with a minor and crown counsel had advised that he pled guilty. There was a sentencing hearing that spring, to which my sister, myself and our families attended. His lawyer didn't show up and it was postponed. At the second hearing, when the charges were being read, he changed his plea to not guilty. So now there was apparently going to be a trial. It was all sent over to another date. When that date arrived, his lawyer and crown apparently cut a backroom deal, so we all went into the court room only to be told there was a deal but we'd have to come back another day to hear the outcome. By then we as a family had taken 3 trips to the Island to face him in court. It had become a gong show on a rollercoaster, so I didn't attend the 4th and final hearing. Crown called me that day to advise he'd received 3 years probation and a bunch of restraining type orders. Such is life.
The therapist was wrong. Getting closure had nil affect and I felt as empty and as blank as ever. The only difference was now the rage was under control....for the most part....and in it's place was nothingness. I just stopped feeling altogether and entered into the part of my life that I call The Robot Days. My life had narrowed down to existing. I got up, got ready, went to work, came home, ate dinner, spent "quality time" with the kids, put them to bed, watched TV, went to bed myself, and repeated the whole thing all over again. On weekends I binged. Friday nights were my alone nights. Jim played hockey so I stayed home and got quietly drunk, alone. On Saturday nights we'd go out and get drunk together, and Sundays were for sleeping off hangovers, while Jim took the kids to Sunday school and church. By this time, our marriage was somewhat cold and almost completely withdrawn. During the raging days Jim had been dancing with a bear....warm and cuddly one moment, and all claws and teeth the next. He started out romantic and spontaneous, but years of distrust on my part sabotaged that in quick order. Drinking together had become our only connection.
In a way you might say that I achieved "zenlike" tranquility during the robot days. These days I call it Christian Buddhism. One of the tenets of Buddhism is to deny all longing and desire...and eventually, feel nothing, so you won't be hurt again. I would have made a fine Buddhist.
Maybe I might have been prepared to accept numbness as a substitute for peace, but God detests counterfeits. He will not allow them for too long before He sheds His light and exposes them for the cheap imitations they are. Because, as is typical with how God woos us, the numbness became unsatisfying, and just like my fellow robot, the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz, I found myself wanting a heart. Perhaps God waited until such a time as this, when I was sufficiently quiet enough to hear, because in the summer of 1997, almost "out of the blue" He began whispering to me, asking me to come back to Him.
The Raging Days and the Breaking Point
This part of my story is the hardest to tell. Even now, when I remember those days, I still feel shame and remorse. If God ever asked what part would I want to go back and do over, this is the part..what I call my raging days. The raging days started when I was home with the kids, escalated through the early days of my new career as an independent adjuster and broke when I finally numbed out. They lasted about 8 - 10 years, through out my late 20's and into my mid to late 30's. I had no warning.
I can recall strange, epiphany type moments when I held Dani in my arms, look down at her and feel......nothing. I can recall thinking how evil I must be to feel no stirrings in my heart towards this amazing creature. It was quite literally the most sickening feeling in the world. I wanted to feel something, anything for her, and I couldn't. It was the same with Kelan, our son, once he was born. In my own way, I knew I loved them, but why couldn't I feel it?
As Dani got older it became even worse. Now she craved "wuvs and cuddles" and I cringed everytime she came for them. What was wrong with me? That was all bad enough and then the raging started.
I read somewhere that depression is anger turned inward, and rage is depression turned outward. Who knows if that's true. All I know is that rage took over. It took nothing to set me off into a whirligig of cutting words and screamed abuses. It is only by the grace of God that my rage did not manifest in a physical form...which is not to lessen the impact of my cruel words. It hurts so much to remember....please God.
A secular counsellor told me a couple of years later that the raging days were "triggered" when Dani turned the age I was when Rick first molested me. I don't know. It does seem though, that when Dani was around 4, it got much, much worse. Have you ever awakened in the morning already angry? I have. And compounding it all was the fact that I went to work everyday with a "I've got it together" face on. So it would unfold...wake up angry, but can't be angry 'cause there's a job to do...so I'd come home angry, but with the especially deadly kind that had been suppressed all day, and my husband, and children were the recipients of all that crap.
The breaking point came one day in the summer, I believe, of 1993. Dani was 7 and my only recollection is being so angry I was terrified. My fear was that this time I was going to hurt someone with more than "just" words. Dani was hiding in her room, Kelan was in his, and I was standing in the middle of the kitchen, quivering with rage , and feeling...something? This was different. A changing. Rage turning to.....sorrow? I went back to rage in a hurry. It felt safer than whatever that "other" thing was. But something did break that day. A wee bit of clarity entered in and I knew I needed help. I phoned a crisis line. They directed me to a women and family services program in the town where we were living at the time, and they got me into emergency counselling.
To this day, I'm am completely and utterly grateful for that program and for the crisis counsellor I met there. She was the first person to tell me that what had happened to me
was not my fault. She used words like
what an amazing courageous little girl you were and
such a horrible thing to happen to such a beautiful innocent child. Words of life. Words of healing. Words of God's love. I had never seen what had happened to me in that light, and so began my slow.....very slow....journey into healing.
