As I rolled over and opened my eyes this morning, the wall refused to stand still. Instead, multiple copies rotated slowly through my unfocused eyes; motion-induced vertigo making the solidity of the wall seem fluid. I know the wall is solid and that it stands still and yet, my eyes told me differently. My world is out of kilter in another way though it's not my eyes that deceive me but the thoughts in my head that set my emotions spinning and my objectivity reeling.
Two months ago, my world seemed in order. The issues I've struggled with, while not gone, were under control. I was becoming equipped to help others and even my marriage was on the road to restoration. God has done mighty things in my life and this summer was a time to rejoice and share the good news. But I've felt silenced and told that I'm much messier than I thought and thus not fit to help others in the way I had hoped.
I've been reading about shame and silence. We all live with a level of shame. It became part of our being when Adam and Eve found need to cover themselves with fig leaves. Some of us carry more shame than others because of environment, experiences and choices and, like Adam and Even, in our shame we hide.
One way to hide is to let others see only our good side. "We present an image of ourselves to others that is more capable, more emotionally healthy and more morally upright than we really are ... projecting a good but false self." (Andrew Comiskey in Strength in Weakness, pp 81, 82.) The problem with the good, false self is that it requires increasing amounts of energy to maintain the facade. One must work longer hours, visit more sick, join more committees, read more books and smile more against the crumbling interior until the effort needed to keep the false image propped up takes more than one has. Against one's will, the bad self bursts forth unexpectedly and our shame increases.
I wanted to help my husband see some areas of his brokenness. The first step to solving a problem is admitting the problem exists. We can't work towards wholeness until we acknowledge that we're broken. But how can we acknowledge and admit if we can't see? Sometimes we need someone to show us.
I waited several days until I felt that gentle nudging of the Holy Spirit saying, "Now is the time." I found myself overcome with compassion for my husband and began to explain what I was seeing. To my amazement, he saw the truth of what I was saying and agreed. It was a miracle and another step towards healing in our marriage.
I used to live with the facade of the good, false self. I was a people pleaser (I'm still working on this); the “perfect” daughter, the “perfect” homemaker, the “perfect” mother, the “perfect” Christian. I hid, even from myself, the messiness of my life until one day my shame burst to the surface and I could no longer hide. Shame "cowers under the threat of exposure" (ibid. p. 83) but that day I removed the threat by making the exposure myself and discovered the truth that "until one can freely admit one's needs, weaknesses and failures, one cannot experience the grace to be a whole human being." (p.83)
The grace extended to me upon my self-exposure was so astounding I knew I could never hide again. Secrecy, hiding the truth of who we are, is a poison that not only destroys us personally but damages our relationships and, ultimately, the very fabric of society. We are a society that prefers to hide things in secrecy. The Christian community is no different. Those who present the good, false self are encouraged to do so more. We don't want the ugly secrets of ourselves or others exposed. We don't want to face sins such as alcoholism, homosexuality and abuse in our congregations, our homes, our neighbourhoods.
I had a discussion with a favourite pastor of mine about this one time. I had some time previously told him of my struggle with same-sex attraction and was excited about all the victories God was giving me in my life. I wanted to share what God was doing but it wouldn't make sense without talking about what God was giving me victory in. The pastor was very uncomfortable about me revealing my struggles to others. They couldn't handle it, he said. He did acknowledge that this was a preference on his part, that not all would agree with him and told me about the vision of a man we both knew personally.
Dr. John White (author of many books including "Eros Defiled") was both a psychiatrist and pastor. His idea of a healthy church community was a place where a person could find it safe to stand up on a Sunday morning and confess, "I'm gay" and people in the congregation, while not accepting the sin, would accept the person and love her. My pastor disagreed strongly with this idea and yet Dr. White, the psychiatrist, saw this as ideal. His "motto" was, "Stand up and let it all hang out because it will bless you and us all." From my experience, Dr. White's modus operandi makes much more sense to me. I have noticed that when I have done what he suggests, both I and others HAVE been blessed.
Yet there are many, like my former pastor, who, for whatever reason, feel very uncomfortable with a "let it all hang out" philosophy. They would suggest that it's an indication of poor boundary formation, a sign of unhealed brokenness. Is it? Or is the discomfort an unwitting product of a culture that is unwilling to face the shame of endemic brokenness in our society? Those who teach that we must uncover our shame in order to be healed have questioned my openness. I have felt my voice muzzled and my speech restricted.
This kept me from sharing the joy of another step taken closer to marital healing as described above. It kept me from describing the pain and confusion resulting from a subsequent encounter with my husband. I left that encounter confused and wondering if I was insane. Are my realities true? Am I so out of kilter that I think black is white and white is black? What is the truth? What is real? How do I know? I try very hard to be objective. I know a person can be self-deceptive and so I don't automatically dismiss the negative things others say to me about myself. Maybe they're right. But how can one be sure? If he says black and I say white, who's right? Normally I would present my confusion to my internet community and they would help me find the truth but I felt restricted from doing so.
I went to my prayer room and poured out my confusion and anger to God. I didn't feel any better. "Give your pain to God," people say but what does that do? If someone beats me up, I can talk to God about the pain all I want but it doesn't make the pain go away. My pain was excruciating. My confusion was overwhelming. My world was spinning as though vertigo had entered my thoughts and my emotions. A phrase came to me--emotional abuse.
Could that be what was happening in my marriage? I had thought the abuse had ended. Maybe it hadn't. I did a google search on the subject, answered questions, read symptoms and discovered that the confusion, disorientation and questioning of sanity and reality I was experiencing are all results of emotional abuse. What do I do? My primary support is an internet community but I've been limited to what I can say. I felt lost and cut adrift.
Church didn't help much. We are masterpieces, the pastor declared. Hrmph! Not me. I felt like a piece of tossed garbage. He said that my identity is not defined by what I went through last week but by God and God alone but if that's true (and I do believe it is), then why do the statements of others have such power? "You're not healed enough." "Your boundaries are out of whack." "You can't be trusted." "You're lazy." "It's all your fault." "You're no good." "The efforts you make are useless." "You don't do enough."
During previous sermons, the pastor examined the brushstrokes of Worship and Love. This week, the brushstroke was Family. We weren't created to be islands; we're called to belong. Belong? Where do I belong? If we weren't meant to be islands, why do I feel so isolated and alone?
Family provides security, unconditional love, a safe place to be ourselves with no strings attached, able to make mistakes and still learn. It provides support, a safe place to get help and comfort, a place to give and receive, a place to have an arm around you. It provides relationship, interaction, laughing and crying. It provides encouragement, a place where we build each other up, energize each other, help each other fulfill our dreams. It provides challenges, where we challenge one another to accomplish things and become better than we are.
I know the pastor was talking about church family but all I could think of was how my family, my marriage (to be more precise), provides none of these--except the crying and that's all I could do through the entire service. We're called to belong but where do I belong? My church family reached out to me with love, compassion, hugs and prayers but, like a Styrofoam cup poked through with holes that drains all the water poured into it, I couldn't seem to hold the love poured into me. It passed in and out and left me as empty as before.
I went home and poured out my pain and anger to a friend. I'm told that all relationships are secondary to one's marriage. What if my marriage is the worst relationship I have? Does that consign me to no significant relationships? It seems like everyone wants their turn at fixing my marriage and if I don't have a good marriage, I'm not worthy of anything. Sometimes it seems like I'd be more respected if I was divorced. Why is it so much easier to believe the negative things I'm told about myself than the good? Maybe it's not my husband who's messed up but me. Maybe it's me who's made the marriage a lousy place to be. Maybe my expectations and wants are so out of line that I don't know what's real, what's good, what's proper, what's healthy. My husband thinks he's right. We can't both be right. Everyone thinks he's Mr. Wonderful. Maybe I'm out of whack. I don't know what's up and what's down. I'm angry at life. I'm angry with the pain. I'm angry with my censors. I'm angry at God. I'm angry with the idea of marriage. How does one not hurt when one is mistreated, blamed, attacked and put down? MJ says to stop believing all the lies Satan tells me but sometimes it's hard to know what is truth and what is lie. My whole reality is shaken up. I don't know what is real about me.
My friend listened to all these statements and questions, made comments, answered questions and finally said, "There may be some areas where you aren't seeing everything quite clearly. Gosh, Maggie, no one could do that except God and we none have the mind of God but you know basically where the problem is and where the breakdown is because you've taken years to think about it, research it, study it, try to correct it, pray over it. Come on, Maggie! You have spent a good deal of your adult life trying to make this okay. You are NOT deceiving yourself. God would have put you on your ear long ago if you had been because for a good part of this time you have been trying to serve Him and when you were not, you knew it. You knew when you were out of His will and you knew you had to come back. And you did.
"Maggie, He is a loving God. He would not let one of His children wander around totally lost when they were trying to stay under His protective wings. He just wouldn't. You have been trying to serve Him to the best of your ability, trying to find the answers to life and love and marriage and relationships; trying to become what you feel He wants you to become. You have been giving it your all. That doesn't mean you've never made mistakes during all this searching but you've been doing your best and backtracking when you've realized those mistakes and repenting and making it right with Him again. That's what we do! That's what we're supposed to do! He isn't asking for perfection; just that we are always striving to be our best and you have been. No way would he allow you to pursue something that wasn't His will when you were asking Him to lead you to His will, Maggie."
"No way would he allow you to pursue something that wasn't His will when you were asking Him to lead you to His will." That's TRUE! When I ask for clarity, God won't give me confusion. He won't let me wander around lost when I'm trying to stay under His protective wings. A heavy weight fell off me. The fog parted, the room stopped spinning. Here was the truth. Here was my answer. "For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace...." (1 Corinthians 14:33 KJV)
God, please give me clarity, peace and a sound mind. When my world is spinning out of control, help me know that my reality is the solidity of a God who doesn't change, of a Rock I can cling to that will not move.
