“All the events of your past have formed a lens, or paradigm, through which you see the world. And since no one's past is exactly like anyone else's, no two people see alike.”
― Sean Covey, The 7 Habits Of Highly Effective Teens
Sometimes in life we are put into situations with others that point out our differences. Sometimes it feels like my differences flash like a neon sign in a dark room and they are so different that I keep my mouth closed, because I don't understand others and don't want to be offensive. But, now I have this blog so I can talk about those differences. This may seem really strange to some, but it's been speaking loudly to me. Lately God is telling me that I am different for a reason, His reason. Some of the things that make me different, he doesn't want me to change. I'm pretty sure there is a reason for this difference and I'm pretty sure, He wants me this way. I have no idea though how He will use this.
In the county where I live, on the main highway connecting our corner of the world with the rest of the world, a bridge collapsed. Like everyone else, I was shocked. The initial, "Are you kidding me" turns into, "No way". Then comes the concern for those involved, safety of my own friends and family, connecting with others in the community, and then... I'm done. That lasted about an hour and I am done with it. The bridge went down, people fell in the water, they all survived, I'm done. Of course I say a prayer for the traumatized. I know trauma and what it can do to a life. I already have a healthy fear of bridges, heights, water, etc., etc. and I pray I can continue to drive across bridges in the future.
Even though it may sound like I am judging, I really am not. I watched this whole thing wondering, is there something wrong with me? People actually went to the sight to watch. Watch what? I don't understand. My first question is; Do you need the trauma of a body being pulled from the water? I saw people on the news down there with little kids. Do the kids need to see this? Am I the only one who thinks like this? If they would have pulled a body from the river, would people have complained that they had to watch it? Don't get me wrong, if people go to help that is different. Like the tornadoes in Oklahoma, I wish I had the funds to go there and help people, pass out water to drink, hold babies, or entertain children while the parent's have a good cry.
I guess what I'm saying is when a traumatic event happens, I think differently. Trauma happens all over the world daily and it's different when it's in your own home town, but there are people all over this planet who live in constant trauma. Maybe it's the degree of trauma you face in your life that affects how you respond to it. The part that struck me odd was how many people reported that they drive over the bridge daily, how many times they went over the bridge recently and/or how close in time to the collapse did they last go over the bridge. I admit, my daughter and grandson travelled over the bridge hours earlier on a school bus full of kids returning from a field trip. That crossed my mind. I was thankful it wasn't them in the water. My next thought is how many times a day we are close to death and don't even know it. Maybe 5 minutes after crossing a country intersection the next car blew through the stop sign. Yep, you would have been killed had you been there.
I found someone like me last night. Yep, she is as sick of hearing about the bridge as I am. What do we have in common? Trauma. The same kind of trauma. We both are concerned for the people involved in the collapse and the nightmares, fears, and other affects they may have from the collapse, but for the rest of the world, could we get over this now? The world is going forward and there are other tragedies playing out every day, every hour, every minute.
I may seem cold, but I believe this is all part of a greater plan. I am hours from finishing my book, the story of my life. I have never been under an enemy attack like this. I feel like I have gone back to square one. I can't seem to write this last little bit of my story. The enemy has attacked in ways I didn't even recognize. There is the obvious, like my car won't start, my new glasses broke, I have run out of money, I am not able to go to a writer's conference I really wanted to attend and felt like God wanted it too. Those are all obvious. There are the old questions the enemy asks like, who cares to read your story, who says you are a writer, and your story will do more harm than good. That's the big one. If I can say it's time to let the bridge collapse go only hours after it happens and people don't understand that, I am sure there are lots of things in my story people will not understand. If I let my story get out there, will I ever have friends again? Will I hurt my family and friends? Where do you draw the line?
I want to help people, but I don't want to waste my time. There are people who want help. These people are searching for someone to listen, someone to care, but more than anything some one who gets it, who understands. I am all about reaching out to them. But there are people who really don't want to change, don't want to face their past and don't want to hear they are wrong. It's like that day when you realize your parent's don't know everything. They are just people trying to make it in this world like everyone else. All my life I waited for that one person with all the answers, but I have realized every person has issues and issues they don't want to face. Where are all the grown ups?
I think it's funny... well actually no... it hurts. I was told it would take me as long to heal from the abuse as it took me to get where I was at when I reached out for help. I didn't want to hear forty years was all it would take. Then it seems once I told my story, got involved with people and ministry, I was automatically expected to be okay. I'm not. I am an adolescent. I am a teenage Christian. What happens at this stage? We are trying to figure out who we are. I don't know who I am. I have things in common with adult Christians and I have things in common with infants. Some days I am a warrior and some days I am a scared child.
I have been put in a position where I am hearing stories from abused women and it has taken me backwards. I want to hide from the world. I want to protect them, and I can't. This sounds ridiculous to some, but how are we supposed to have fun, when people are hurting? How are we supposed to go on with a normal life when people are dying and going to hell because nobody listened. Maybe this is a phase I am going through, but I believed finishing my book while drowning in this phase is part of the plan. Maybe it's my desperation to pull people out of their pits that will get me to allow more of my story to be told than if I was content with life. I am at a point of desperation and willing to let my family and friends go if publishing a few words will pull one person from the darkness.
I think this is making sense to me now. This desperation I feel, this fear that people are dying all around me and don't know Jesus, is causing me to do things I wouldn't normally do. So, before the bridge collapse, tornadoes ripped through Oklahoma, and after the collapse, two trains collided in the east. It doesn't stop because we need time to absorb it. Life goes on. The next tragedy happens. I'm thinking this is how emergency workers feel, "Pull them out of the river and move on to the next." You can't pull a victim out of the water and then sit and talk about what happened when there are more victims drowning. Move to the next one. I'm not sure but I think this feeling comes from living in survival mode? I just realized this is how I did my job too. Prioritize. Save the ones you can save and hopefully there will be time to go back and help in the more difficult situations.
I was diagnosed with PTSD. It still gets triggered. We often think of soldiers when we hear this term, but it's not only soldiers. PTSD is a disorder becoming more common everyday. There will be people in Oklahoma who develop this disorder from experiencing the tornado. This could be an issue for those involved in the bridge collapse. The train wreck, abuse, a traffic accident, witnessing a crime, etc. etc. are all things that can cause PTSD. It affects the way we think. Maybe instead of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, these letters should stand for Powerful Tool for Satan's Deception.
“If only I could tell someone.
The humiliation I go through
when I think of my past
can only be described as grace.
We are created by being destroyed.”
― Franz Wright
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