Growth revealed...

Yesterday I had lunch with a friend. During lunch, she asked me to recount some of the nightmares I used to have and exactly how I dealt with them. You see, I used to have horrible nightmares, where I would wake up screaming, but I couldn't remember the nightmare or what had frightened me so badly. The fear fed on itself. My thinking was that if the nightmare was so bad I couldn't remember it, it must be too bad for words.

When I started back into counseling for my sexual abuse, the nightmares became more intense. Besides the one that woke me up screaming, I also had one of being choked by a death-like figure. Both nightmares were recurring. Thankfully, I received wise counsel in this. When I used to wake up from the nightmares, I would pray for God to take it away, I didn't want to know what they were about and I was afraid. I was more than afraid actually. I was advised instead to pray and ask God to show me what it was I needed to know from the nightmares. Truthfully, the first time I had one after receiving that advice, it was really hard for me to pray that way. I was just beginning my first tenuous forays into trusting that God really did care about me and would not give me more than I could bear. My prayer was something like this: "God, I am really scared right now. I don't know what this nightmare is about and I don't know if I want to know. I don't think I can handle any more, but I am going to try to trust you on this. If there is something you want to reveal to me through these dreams, then I trust you will help me with whatever comes up."

A part of my journal entry from 2-1-06 reveals this process:
God, why did you bring this memory to me? What am I supposed to do with this? How do I feel? Completely overwhelmed. My father, contrary to his words of princess, found my life utterly worthless. I didn't die, I learned to stuff my pain and my feelings even deeper in a desperate act of self-preservation. I was left hoping and believing that there was something better out there somewhere. The irony is that my feelings are so hidden and my trust so fragile that now I can't find what I long for. This memory brought back deep buried feelings and emotions in all of its raw ugliness. The pain of this absolutely sucks and I hate it. But I can't move forward and truly enjoy what God has given to me if I stuff everything and I don't feel. The dreams I have of Satan over my bed choking me - I think I was wrestling with more than the spirit world - I was fighting my dad who was evil personified. He was Satan with skin on. Now I need to find Jesus with skin on and replace those images. I fear more memories, letting go of my emotions, giving into the pain, trusting God completely because what if He lets me down? He has proven himself faithful, but what if? Trusting is a hard thing. I don't even trust myself. Maybe that is a place to start.

Re-reading those words, I remember the struggle, how scared and unsure I was, but how tired I was of trying to do it myself. The stuffing wasn't working and I was slowly poisoning myself. The dreams that continued to come and the memories that were revealed over the next year were sometimes horrific beyond belief. They shook my world. But - God was in the midst of it all. After the first images were revealed to me and I learned to lean on God for his strength to get me through, the other memories were somehow easier to handle. I found that I could walk through the memories, re-experience the pain I stuffed so long ago, and still feel surrounded by God. That peace in the storm stuff that I never understood... it was true, amazingly and incomprehensibly true.

Working through all of the memories will remain one of the most painful things I ever did in my life. But it was a road to growth. I didn't want the nightmares and the memories. But I dared to trust God for his timing and that his strength would be enough. It took time to build that trust, but it was so worth it.

On the other side now, I can't believe how much I have learned to trust God and to lean on him. In telling my friend about the dreams, there was no shaking, no fear, no bitterness, no negative emotion. Rather, there was an overwhelming sense of the goodness of God and the peace that I have in my life now to be able to relate such horrible memories with none of the pain. Through my obedience to God, to trust him in what he was revealing, I was able to work through many of the memories and deal with the undealt with emotions. I was able to forgive my father for each and every instance that God brought to mind. Words cannot ever describe how those first steps of faith turned into the change I have experienced. I am awed and overwhelmed by the grace and mercy of God, but more than that, I am at a loss for words at the love he has for the details of my life, that he cared enough to walk with me through the valley of the shadow of death to see me though to the other side.

My prayer and hope is that somehow I can share my story with other survivor's and offer the hope and healing that only comes through submission and trust in Jesus.