healing – Page 9 – thelifeididntchoose

What Helps and What Hurts

I am committed to continue to trust Jesus and to look to the Word of God for my hope and direction in this life and in the one to come.

I speak truth to my heart through Scripture, worship songs, testimonies of others who have gone before and remaining in community with other believers.

But I’ve yet to reach the place where I can plan on most days being better days rather than hard ones.

I’m trying.

And I’m working to tease out the influences that make a difference-both the ones that help and the ones that hurt.

So here’s the list so far:

WHAT HELPS

Starting the day with Bible reading
Writing out a verse or two that speaks hope to my heart
Listening to worship music
Feeling well-less physical pain translates to an overall sense of well-being
Having a plan for the day-even if it is simple and created in broad strokes, knowing what I plan to do gives me a reason to get up and get going
Seeking companionship with other believers either via Facebook groups, telephone calls, in person get togethers or messaging.
Allowing myself a set time to grieve-cry, pray, lament, or whatever-then moving on with the day
Mixing up physical activity with rest-changing my body position often reorients my attitude.
Striving to get proper sleep, eating good food (not junk and not mindlessly), exercising and stretching.
Crying-if I need to cry I’ve found allowing the tears to fall is much better than fighting them off all day.
Retreating when necessary-if I find a situation is too much for me to handle, I give myself permission to retreat. Most things can be done another day. Sometimes just granting myself permission means I have the courage to press on and face it.
Planning for hard things. If I know I’m going to have to face a hard thing, then I try to plan it. I prepare myself by thinking through (as much as possible) various outcomes. I’m more prepared and usually it goes better than I anticpated.
Not overscheduling my days/weeks-it is harder than it used to be to get going in the mornings so I take that into consideration when making appointments. If I have a busy day on Monday, I will try to make Tuesday open and relaxed. Having space between commitments gives me time to recoup and minimizes anxiety.
Doing as many things via Internet and telephone as possible-I can do needful things even if I’m having a bad day if I don’t have to get dressed and go out to do them.

WHAT HURTS

Neglecting my spiritual life-if I don’t read Scripture, don’t engage with other believers and refuse to acknowledge and thank God for the blessings He still bestows-I can quickly succumb to the dark whispers of the enemy of my soul.
Ignoring physical needs-when I don’t prioritize sleep, good nutrition, adequate exercise and appropriate pain control (for my RA) then sadness is multiplied and it is so much harder to climb out of the pit of despair.
Carrying unnecessary burdens-I cannot MAKE anyone understand the pain and ongoing challenge of child loss. So when people outside my immediate grief circle question my feelings or try to make me conform to their expectations of what grief should look like and how long it should last, I have to shake it off. If it’s an important and ongoing relationship, I try to help them understand but if they choose not to or if it is a tangential relationship, I let it go. I refuse to carry the burden of others’ expectations in addition to the burden of burying my child.
Being ignored-it hurts to be ignored. It hurts when someone asks how I am yet doesn’t allow the space and time for me to answer. It hurts when I answer and they ignore my pain or dismiss it with a story or platitude or Bible verse or just don’t say anything.
Being shamed-it hurts for others to shame me by implying that I am not strong in my faith or not trusting Jesus or not hoping hard enough for heaven when I admit I still struggle in grief and still miss my son.
Disregarding my triggers: There are certain situations that I know will guarantee a breakdown, panic or a crying fit. I avoid them when I can. If I can’t-then I make a plan of escape (just in case).
Being “on display” for others-I am one woman doing the best I can to walk faithfully with Jesus through an unbelievably painful experience. I am not the Author and Finisher of your faith-Jesus is. It hurts when I feel like others are watching to see if I’ll make it, if I’ll say the “wrong” thing, if I’ll admit that I doubt. I want the same freedom others have to grow in my faith and to make mistakes and learn from them. I don’t want to be a “poster child” for anything.
Friends staying away. I know it is hard to be my friend right now. You never know what you might get when you call. But if you ARE my friend, please don’t stay away. Please reach out even when it makes you uncomfortable. A good word at the right moment is often the difference between a very bad and very lonely day and a pretty good and generally hopeful one.
Hiding my sorrow-when I try to pretend I am stronger than I really am or when I try to hide my tears it takes so much energy and makes me so less capable to do the other things life requires.

These are just some of the things that help/hurt me in my journey. I would love to have others share what helps/hurts them in theirs. There’s strength in community.

Leave your thoughts in the COMMENTS below!

Safe Friends

I hope you have one.

That one person who knows your greatest joys and deepest pain and keeps it locked in her heart as if the secrets were her own.

She is a gift from God to me, that friend.

She’s the one I call when I’m wracked with sobs and the words won’t come. She knows it’s me and just waits on the line until I can speak. She gets my jokes, knows my weaknesses, my strengths and helps me steer a better path on this hard road called “Life”.

She is a safe friend.

A safe friend listens.

Just listens.

She isn’t formulating an answer while I am talking, she isn’t rounding up cliches or Bible verses or platitudes meant to make her sound wise and shush my sharing. She hears my heart even when my words might not make sense.

A safe friend sees.

Really sees.

She looks in my eyes and pays attention to my expression. She notices when my smile doesn’t match the tone of my words or the silent language of my hands.

She won’t let me by with a quick, “I’m fine!” meant to brush off the real need to spill my guts.

A safe friend stays.

As long as it takes.

She doesn’t leave in the middle of a hard conversation. Even if life gets in the way, she will come back and pick it up. She checks in with me and doesn’t let time unwind the threads that bind us together. If I don’t contact HER, she contacts ME.

A safe friend walks with me.

No matter how steep the path, no matter how rocky the road. We might be hobbling along, broken together, but she keeps going and she keeps me going.

A safe friend encourages me to look to Jesus.

She admits that she doesn’t have all the answers. She agrees that there are many things we will have to wait to understand. But she reminds me that for this, we have Jesus. We have a High Priest Who was tempted in every way yet was without sin. We can enter boldly into the Holy of Holies because by His blood the veil is rent.

She doesn’t issue spiritual ultimatums that undermine, instead of strengthen, my faith in Christ.

A safe friend doesn’t cut me out of her life when my life is a mess.

Even if the mess is of my own making. She helps me untangle the knot, own up to the sin, reach out to Christ and make amends.

A safe friend doesn’t just “happen”.

She allows the grace and mercy and love of Jesus to mold her heart so that He can use her.

Everyone NEEDS a safe friend.

Anyone willing can BE that friend.

Loving the Wounded

God bless the inventor of Band Aids!

That little tacky plaster has soothed more fears and tears than almost any other invention in the world.

Skinned knee? Put a BandAid on it.

Bee sting? BandAid.

Tiny bump that no one can even see? Oh, sweetie, let me give you a BandAid.

Simply acknowledging pain and woundedness is so often all that is needed to encourage a heart and point it toward healing.

It’s the same in the world of emotional, psychological and spiritual wounds.

But we have yet to invent the BandAid for those.

Instead, frequently we ignore, refute, minimize and pass over the one in our midst who holds out a hand or a heart saying, “I have a boo boo.”

Believe me, I understand-so many of these wounds are incurable, they are uncomfortable to think about, hard to look at.

But often the only thing the hurting heart wants is acknowledgement, a moment of time, a face turned full into theirs, eye-to-eye and unafraid to remain alongside through the pain.

Just as a BandAid bears witness to the wound underneath, our compassionate presence can bear witness to the deeper wounds no one can see.

When we choose to lean in and love, to listen and learn, to walk with the wounded we give a great gift.

Silence Doesn’t Serve Anyone Well

One of the reasons I write is to share my grief experience with others.

I realized when tossed into the ocean of sorrow that of all the things I had heard about or read about, surviving child loss was never mentioned.

Oh, someone might comment that so-and-so had LOST a child, but then the conversation quickly moved on to more comfortable topics.

But if we don’t talk about it, we can’t learn to live through it.

Silence doesn’t serve anyone well.

I agree with Mr. Rogers:

Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary. The people we trust with that important talk can help us know that we are not alone.”
― Fred Rogers

During the course of my lifetime I have seen many topics dragged from behind closed doors out onto the stage and under the public spotlight.

Frankly, some of them could have remained in darkness as far as I’m concerned.

But there is something still taboo in polite conversation–something hushed with awkward silence should it ever be spoken aloud in a crowded room–mention GRIEF and eyes drop to the floor or someone hastily throws an arm around you and says, “There, there–it’s going to be alright.”

I don’t blame them. Remaining in the presence of great pain is uncomfortable.

In my growing up years I don’t remember anyone speaking about death and grief for longer than the time it took to go to a funeral home visitation and stand by the grave as the casket was lowered in the ground.

What came AFTER the loss–not a word.

We need to talk about it. We need to educate ourselves about it. Because, like my EMT son says, “No one gets out of here alive.”

You WILL experience grief in your lifetime.

I pray the people you lose are full of years and ready to go–that you get to say “good-bye” and all the important things have been said and done so you aren’t left with extra emotional baggage in addition to the sorrow and missing.

But you never know. Neither you nor I are in control.

And even in the one place where it would seem most natural to talk about life and death and grief and pain–our churches–it still makes those who are not experiencing it uncomfortable.

Yes, there are grief support groups. And, yes, they are helpful in ways that only a group made up of people who understand by experience what you are going through can be.

But much of life is spent rubbing elbows with folks unlike ourselves, with parents who know the fear of losing a child but not the awful reality.

And just a little bit of openness, a little bit of education and a little bit of understanding would make such a difference.

We don’t want pity.

We aren’t looking for special accommodations that single us out and mark us as “needy”.

But we long for understanding and compassion and the opportunity to tell our stories.

No Substitute for TIME

Healing can’t be hurried.

Read the rest: No Rush

I Am What I Am

The cartoon character Popeye responded to critics with “I am what I am”.

And while this phrase can be used to excuse all sorts of bad behavior, there is a ring of truth to it.

Every one of us is the sum of our experiences. Each of us is hemmed in by what we know and how we are made.

We are more than the things that happen to us.

But, in part, we are Defined by Moments.

The Sound of Silence

Busy, busy, busy and noisy, noisy, noisy.

Every day is full of activity and every minute full of sounds-television, radio, Itunes or Pandora.

I am, at the same time, hyper-connected and dis-connected. My mind is often full but my heart can feel empty.

If I can move fast enough or create sufficient distraction, then maybe I can ignore the harder questions, the deeper thoughts, the uncomfortable feelings that I would rather not explore.

Being in one’s own company alone with God is challenging. Without the noise of outside distraction I am forced to face my fears and hidden darkness. And in the quiet I find that the easy answers leave me empty and unsatisfied. I must listen carefully for the still, small Voice that whispers comfort.

If I want to hear from God I need to embrace solitude and make space to hear.

Unhealthy Denial

Ignoring pain doesn’t make it go away.

The world we live in is a broken place where bad things happen and life can be hard.

Sometimes believers in Christ can convince themselves that admitting their world is dark with pain or suffering or questions diminishes the power of God–that it speaks ill of God or that it means God is insufficient to uphold us in our weakness.

If I pretend that I’m never afraid, or that I never experience darkness, I am denying others my aid.

Even worse, I may be shaming them to silence, sending the message that if they are experiencing pain, something is wrong with THEM.

God of the Day and God of the Night

Choosing Brokenness

From the world’s perspective there are only two potential responses to trials-better or bitter.

I can either use the struggle to strengthen my resolve to take charge of my life or I can give up and give in, wallowing in self pity.

If I embrace popular culture as my guide, the best outcome I can hope for is that I grow as a result of sorrow, pain, conflict, tragedy and hardship.

But Scripture tells me that there is a third option: I can choose brokenness.

I can choose to submit my heart and my life to God and His purpose.

I can lie prostrate, unprotected, impotent and trust that the One Who made me will ultimately remake these shattered pieces of what’s left of my life into a masterpiece, declaring His faithfulness and goodness.

“But enduring deep pain and unchangeable circumstances requires continued commitment to face the fork in the road over and over, and to choose well each time.”

It is A Daily Struggle

No Rush

Time, by itself, does not heal all wounds.

But of all the factors that promote healing, there is NO SUBSTITUTE for time–not in the physical world of surgery and broken bones and deep wounds and not in the inner world of emotional pain and brokenness and sorrow.

Our bodies are made to be amazingly resilient.

Most people don’t really think of surgery as an assault on the body, but it is.

The surgeon knifes through layers of flesh and tissue that are designed to keep intruders out, mucks about inside, does what he or she came to do, and closes up–hopefully without introducing bacteria into the wound. Some medication may be prescribed to promote healing, control pain and reduce the risk of infection.

Then the patient goes home to recover.

But it is really TIME and the body’s own healing powers that do the lion’s share of the work.

Our hearts and minds can be resilient too.

Frequently, someone who suffers an assault on their emotions may not bear outward signs and symbols to mark what they’ve been through. And well-meaning friends and family can forget that healing has only begun and is far from complete.

Sometimes broken people feel pressured to put on a brave face and to stuff their feelings.

For the body, ignoring doctor’s orders to rest after surgery can mean another hospital stay due to complications that might have been avoided if the patient had been given sufficient time to recover.

Emotionally wounded people can end up with complications from pressure to rejoin regular activities and engage society in ways for which they are not yet ready.

It takes TIME to heal from burying a child or any other traumatic loss.

There is no way to rush the healing. It takes HOURS AND HOURS to think about, respond to and process the feelings that overwhelm anyone who is grieving or trying to cope with emotional upheaval of any kind.

So be patient with yourself.

Understand that there will be good days and bad days.
There will be forward movement and steps backward.
Sometimes it will be easy to do something or go somewhere and the next time it might be really hard.

And don’t be afraid to let others know you are still healing.

Deep emotional wounds require great care and an extended period of time to heal if the healing is to be sound and free from unnecessary complications.

You are not selfish to draw boundaries around what you can and can’t do, what you will and won’t allow and where and when you engage with others-you are being wise.

For those walking with the wounded: extend grace and be patient.

Thank God you are not bearing this burden and be mindful of placing demands or pressure on the wounded to heal according to a predetermined timetable.

Then support them in their effort to give themselves the TIME they need to heal.

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