Beauty for ashes: receiving emotional healing (3 page)

For five years we played at what we called a marriage. We were both so young, only eighteen, and neither of us had had proper parenting. We were completely ill-equipped to help one another. My problems were only complicated more following a miscarriage at the age of twenty-one and the birth of my oldest son when I was twenty-two. This event took place during the final year of our marriage. My husband left me and moved in with another woman who lived two blocks from our place, telling anyone who would listen that the child I was carrying was not his.

I remember coming dangerously close to losing my mind during that summer of 1965. Throughout my pregnancy, I lost weight because I could not eat. Without friends, money, or insurance, I went through a hospital clinic, seeing a different doctor each time I had a checkup. Actually, the doctors I saw were interns in training. I was unable to sleep, so I began taking over-the-counter sleeping pills. Thank God, they did not harm my unborn child or me.

The temperature that summer rose to more than a hundred degrees, and there was no fan or air-conditioning in my third

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floor, attic apartment. My only material possession was an old Studebaker automobile that got vapor locked on a regular basis. Since my father had always insisted that some day I would need his help and come crawling back to him, I was determined to do anything but that-even though I did not know what it would be.I can remember being under such mental strain that I would sit and stare at the walls or out the window for hours, not even realizing what I was doing. I worked until my baby was due. When I had to quit my job, my hairdresser and her mother took me in.

My baby was four and a half weeks late. I had no idea what to expect, and no notion of how to care for him when he was born. When the baby did come, my husband showed up at the hospital. Since the baby looked so much like him, there was no way he could deny that it was his. Once again he said he was sorry and that he was going to change.

When it was time for me to be discharged from the hospital, we had no place to live, so my husband contacted his brother's ex-wife, who was a wonderful Christian woman, and she let us live with her for a while until I was able to go back to work.

I think you can imagine from these few details what my life was like. Actually, it was ridiculous! There was nothing stable in my entire existence, and stability was something that I needed and craved desperately.

Finally, in the summer of 1966, I reached the point of not caring what happened to me. I could not stand the thought of staying with my husband any longer. I did not have one ounce of respect for the man, especially since, to top it all off, by this time he was in trouble with the law. I took my son and what I could carry and walked out. I went to a corner phone booth where I called my dad and asked him if I could come home. Of course, he was delighted!

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After I had lived at home for a couple of months, I learned that my divorce had been granted. That was in September of 1966. By that time my mother's mental health was growing worse by the day. She had begun to have violent fits, accusing store clerks of robbing her, threatening the people she worked with over meaningless details. She even started carrying a knife in her purse. She ranted and raved about anything and everything. I distinctly remember one night when she beat me with a broom because I had failed to mop the bathroom floor! While all this was going on, I made an occupation of steering clear of my father. As much as possible, I avoided being left alone with him.In short, my life was a living hell.

For "entertainment," I began to go to bars on weekends. I suppose I was looking for someone to love me. I would have a few drinks, but rarely ever enough to get drunk. I really had never cared much for drinking. I also refused to sleep with the various men I met. Even though my life was a mess, there was a deep desire in me to be good and pure.

Confused, afraid, lonely, discouraged, and depressed, I often prayed, "Dear God, please let me be happy . . . some day. Give me someone who will really love me-and make it someone who will take me to church."

My Knight in Shining Armor

My parents owned and resided in a two-family apartment. One of their renters worked with a man named Dave Meyer. One evening Dave came by to pick up his friend to go bowling. I was washing my mother's car. He saw me and tried to flirt with me, but I was my usual sarcastic self. He asked me if I wanted to wash his car whenIwas finished with mine, andIreplied, "If you want your car washed, wash it yourself!" Because of

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my experience with my father and my former husband, I did not trust men at all, and that is an understatement!Dave, however, was being led by the Spirit of God. Born- again and baptized in the Holy Spirit, he loved God with all his heart. At twenty-six years of age, he was also ready to get married and had been praying for six months that God would lead him to the right woman. He had even asked the Lord for her to be someone who needed help!

Since Dave was being led by the Lord, my sarcasm only served to encourage him, instead of insulting him. Later he told his friend from work that he would like to have a date with me. At first I refused, but later I changed my mind. We had been out on five dates when Dave asked me to marry him. He told me that he had known the first night we went out together that he wanted me to be his wife, but that he had decided to wait a few weeks before proposing marriage, lest he frighten me.

For my part, I certainly did not know what love was, and was not eager to get involved with another man. However, since things were getting even worse at home, and since I was living in total panic all the time, I decided that anything would be better than what I was going through at the moment.

Dave asked me if I would go to church with him, which I was willing to do. Remember, one of my prayer requests had been that when the Lord gave me someone to love me, he would be a person who would take me to church. I strongly desired to live a Christian life, but I knew that I needed someone strong to lead the way. Dave also promised to be good to my little boy, who was ten months old when we met. I had named him David, which was what my brother was called and was my favorite name for a boy. I am still amazed at the way the Lord was working out a plan for my good, right in the midst of my darkest despair.

Dave and I were married on January 7, 1967, but we did not

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live "happily ever after"! Marriage did not solve my problems, and neither did going to church. My problems were not in my home life or my marriage, but in me, in my wounded, crippled emotions.Abuse leaves a person emotionally handicapped, unable to maintain healthy, lasting relationships without some kind of intervention. I wanted to give and receive love, but I could not. Like my father, I was controlling, manipulative, angry, critical, negative, overbearing, and judgmental. All that I had grown up with, I had become. Filled with self-pity, I was verbally abusive, depressed, and bitter. I could go on and on describing my personality, but I am sure you get the picture.

I functioned in society. I worked; Dave worked. We went to church together. We got along part of the time, only then because Dave was extremely easygoing. He usually let me have my way, but when he didn't it made me mad. As far as I was concerned, I was right about everything. To me, I did not have a problem; everyone else did.

Now remember, I was born-again. I loved Jesus. I believed that my sins were forgiven and that I would go to heaven when I died. But I knew no victory, no peace, no joy in my everyday life. Although I believed that Christians were supposed to be happy, I certainly was not! I did not even know what righteousness, imputed through the blood of Jesus, was. I felt condemned all the time. I was out of control. The only time I did not hate myself was when I was working toward some personal goal which I thought would provide me a sense of self-worth.

I kept thinking that ifthingswould change, if otherpeoplewould change, then I would be all right. If my husband, my kids, my finances, my health, were different; if I could go on vacation, get a new car, buy a new dress; if I could get out of the house, find a job, earn more money, then I would be happy

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and fulfilled. I was always doing what is described in Jeremiah 2:13-I was digging wells that had no water in them.I was making the frustrating, tragic mistake of trying to find the kingdom of God, which is righteousness, peace, and joy (see Romans 14:17), in things and other people. What I did not realize is that the kingdom of God is within us, as the apostle Paul explained: "which is Christ withinandamong you, the Hope of [realizing the] glory" (Colossians 1:27). Jesus said, "For behold,the kingdom of God is within you [in your hearts] andamong you [surrounding you]" (Luke 17:21, emphasis mine). My joy had to be found in Christ, but it took me years and years to find that out.

I tried to earn righteousness by being good, through works of the flesh. I was on the evangelism committee and the church board. My husband was an elder in the church. Our children went to parochial school. I tried to do all the right things. I tried and tried and tried, and yet it seemed that I just could not keep myself from making mistakes. I was worn out, burned out, frustrated, and miserable!

I Was Sincerely Ignorant of the Problem

It never occurred to me that I was suffering from the years of abuse and rejection I had gone through. I thought that all that was behind me. It was true that it was no longer happening to me physically, but it was all recorded in my emotions and in my mind. I still felt the effects of it, and I still acted them out.

I needed emotional healing!

Legally, I was a new creature in Christ. The Word says, "Therefore if any person is [ingrafted] in Christ (the Messiah) he is a new creation (a new creature altogether); the old [previous moral and spiritual condition] has passed away. Behold,

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the freshandnew has come!" (2 Corinthians 5:17). But experientially, I had not yet taken hold of the new creation reality. I lived out of my own mind, will, and emotions, which were all damaged. Jesus had paid the price for my total deliverance, but I had no idea how to receive His gracious gift.

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Behavior Addictions Caused by AbuseThe first thing to realize is that the fruit in our lives (our behavior) comes from somewhere. A person who is violent is that way for a reason; bad behavior is like bad fruit of a bad tree with bad roots.Rotten fruit comes from rotten roots; good fruit comes from good roots.

It is important to take a close look at your roots. If they are unpleasant, harmful, or abusive, the good news is that you can be uprooted from that bad soil and be transplanted into the good soil of Christ Jesus. You can be rooted and grounded in Him and in His love: "May Christ through your faith [actually] dwell (settle down, abide, make His permanent home) in your hearts! May you be rooted deep in loveandfounded securely on love, that you may have the powerandbe strong to apprehendandgrasp with all the saints [God's devoted people, the experience of that love] what is the breadth and length and height and depth [of it]" (Ephesians 3:17-18).

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The Word teaches: "Have the roots [of your being] firmlyanddeeply planted [in Him, fixed and founded in Him], being continually built up in Him, becoming increasingly more confirmedandestablished in the faith, just as you were taught, and aboundingandoverflowing in it with thanksgiving" (Colossians 2:7).Jesus will graft you into Himself. As you, a branch, are grafted into Him, Who is the Vine (see John 15:5), you will begin to receive all the "sap" (the riches of His love and grace), which flow from Him. In other words, if while you were growing up you did not receive what you needed to make you sound and healthy, Jesus will gladly give it to you now.

In my own life there was a lot of bad fruit, which I kept trying to get rid of. I worked hard at trying to behave correctly. Yet it seemed that no matter what kind of bad behaviors I tried to get rid of, two or three others popped up somewhere else. It was like trying to get rid of dandelion weeds. I kept pulling off the visible part, but I was not getting to the hidden root of the problem. The root was alive and kept producing a new crop of problems.

As the following illustrations reveal, rotten roots yield rotten fruit, but good fruit comes from good roots.

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Controlling Anger-HostilityLack of Self-Confidence

Get Good Feelings From "Addictions"

Judgmental

Low Self-Esteem \ \ |( // Chip on the

Shoulder

Negativism __^[\S/Hatred

Depression

Confusion and Inner Turmoil

PRETEND ME

Sex, Food, Money,

Power, Drugs, Alcohol, Activity

"If I Can't Get Good

Feelings From Within Me, I'll

Try To Get Them From the

Outside"

'The Real Me Isn't Acceptable"

Feelings Get "Stuffed"

Because It's Too Painful

To Face Them

Shame

"Something's Wrong With Me"Improper "Mirroring" &

"Imaging" From Parents

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Get Good Feelings From Living a Life of "Self-Control""I Am Made Acceptable in the Beloved" Ephesians 1:6

RELAXED

Because Acceptance Isn't