A Fools Spring

selective focus photo of green grass
Photo by eberhard grossgasteiger

It’s been said that the American Midwest has eleven seasons, not four:

  • Winter
  • Fools Spring
  • Second winter
  • Spring of deception
  • Third winter
  • Mud season
  • Actual spring
  • Summer
  • False fall
  • Second summer
  • Actual fall

I was reminded of this saying this morning when ice and snow interrupted what had been a good stretch of sunny, mild, enjoyable spring weather. Perhaps our recent warm up was merely a Fools Spring. Either way, we are definitely now back to winter for a bit!

Last night we were sharing thoughts about what the current pandemic might mean for us as believers. How our lives might now be forever changed. And how quickly Jesus’ return appears to be.

I’ve also been listening and catching up on youtube sermons of ministers I follow, as I go about my day around the house. My favorites are Bill Randles and JD Faraq. I’ve also rediscovered Amir Tsarfati and find him interesting as well. Bill and JD are both cautioning that things will not be the same, the fallout from this will likely affect everything and we will likely not return to business as usual.

I was in complete agreement with that assessment.

However, in one of Amir Tsarfati’s recent videos (sorry that I no longer recall which one it was, or I’d share a link), he mentioned his feeling that this is not a tribulation type of pandemic, that the real tribulation will be much worse, and that after this passes, people will have such a zest for living they will want to go out and taste all they can (foodies), and travel as much as they can and seek out entertainment again and will likely do so with renewed fervor. Much like after 9/11 we saw a surge in church attendance which then dropped off to less than it had been prior. (paraphrasing here from memory, so I may not be getting this entirely as he said it–but the gist is similar).

And that really resonated with me and started me wondering if this could go a different way than ‘the obvious’ (and I mean ‘obvious’ to those of us believers, like me, who are watching for Jesus’ return.) While I have seen several people drawing closer to God as a result of this, and heard stories of new converts and friend’s wayward children returning to God (PRAISE GOD!), it doesn’t seem like a widespread revival is underway.

The things I see on social media are more along the lines of –this sucks, let’s get back to normal, or how can we have this quarantine be as normal to our old life as possible? Netflix binges and puzzles and sewing projects and books and home improvement projects are happening more than ever prior. I haven’t seen a lot of people turning to youtube sermons and Bible study; unless they were already doing those things prior.

So I actually think most of the world is expecting this to blow over and go back to normal as we once knew it. The projected death toll of this virus is likely not going to compare to the Spanish flu outbreak one hundred years ago. Therefore it does make sense to me that if this were a true tribulation event, the general mood, the casualties and our ability to limit them would be much worse than this pandemic is projected to be.

Therefore I feel compelled, now, to consider several possibilities of what this might mean, for my own self-preparedness, and to hopefully prepare my family and others if possible.

Know that these are just my thoughts. I am analytical by nature and I like to consider many sides of a matter. This is not a prophecy or me attempting to prophesy.

So here goes.

While right away, to me, it seemed obvious that this pandemic would be the type of event that could bring in a one world government and one world currency, I no longer feel as strongly about that. But, I can still see that happening, too, as a possibility. I can also see some sort of vaccine mandate coming about (but, also, I can see that NOT happening as not everyone, like the immune compromised, can even be safely vaccinated–and that is now also being reported by officials on the news).

Therefore, there could be a chance that this passes and somehow the economy gets further propped up and stays that way (this is hard for me to grasp, as I know that it’s already so falsely propped up that I am continuously  surprised it has not outright collapsed yet). But, nevertheless, it could be that there is a seemingly miraculous worldwide economic rebound.

If that were to happen, then I am pretty certain most of us will go back to more of the same old Babylonian ways –except with even more increasing fervor to spend and entertain and eat good food and LIVE life to the fullest. The peaceful and comforting aspect of these quiet days we are now having at home could be quickly forgotten. As many of us go on that quest to enjoy all the goodies and sights and pleasures we can find on this earth. In essence: we cast off our current isolated germophobia like a child with spring fever casts his coat off and goes outdoors to play after a long winter.

I hardly know eschatology well enough to opine on it. It is something I want to dig into further, while I now have the time. But could this crisis somehow set the stage for the coming three years of peace and prosperity which (in my limited understanding) is to precede the three and a half years of great global tribulation?

If so, perhaps we are in some sort of Third Winter season currently, where things are dire but not as dire as they seem–more like a major spring storm, not the beginning of a long winter season. Which, upon commencing, will then bring on another false season–a false spring, and a season of large scale deception– a season which might fool many into thinking that we have now attained ultimate peace and prosperity for a long time to come. If so, then that could mean an unprecedented time, globally, of people being intent on living the good life, traveling again and eating and drinking and giving themselves in marriage

Which seems as likely to me that it would be during such a time of seeming prosperity and peace that Jesus would return for His bride, and catch many unaware. Otherwise, why would He have told us the thief comes in the night to catch the owner of the house off guard? Why the reference to the days of Noah, when all but one family, believed what was actually coming upon the whole world?

But, having said all that, I could also see His return happening today.

The lesson I am taking in these thoughts and feelings that I shared around our table last night, only to seemingly be confirmed by an abrupt shift in the weather revealing a fools spring–is very simple.

Don’t be fooled.

By anything. Whether it is seemingly catastrophic or too good to be true.

To stay firmly on the rock of Christ, and all the more so in what could be either even worse, or seemingly ‘much better’ days to come. So I am making a note to myself to remember well this hour I am in, where I have found comfort in a quiet life at home; and do not forget to stay homebound and simple and trusting Christ should things return to ‘normal’ again ‘out there’ and once again tempt me to put down my eagerness to get out of here.

 

 

 

Soap Works Well Against this Virus

person washing his hand
Photo by Burst on Pexels.com

In elementary school I learned that some of my friends had mothers who washed their mouths with soap for saying a ‘bad’ word. As a young child I listened, curious, to these strange new confessions of ‘soap in the mouth’. My eyes grew big and my cheeks red as my classmate’s seven-year-old eyes turned to quiet little me. Had I ever needed soap in my mouth?

Yikes. I was still trying to grasp the idea of a mom or dad putting soap into a child’s mouth. Still trying to figure out what my classmates meant by ‘bad words.’ I believe I just shook my head no. Hoping they thought that meant I hadn’t said any bad words and not that my parents were bad parents to me. Because the latter was something so unbearably shameful that I tried to hide it most of my life.

I started to learn the difference between bad words and good words sometime after I started Sunday school and Kindergarten. Words and phrases which earned open laughter at home, had a deafening effect in a classroom. One time at church I landed in really big trouble. That correction was doubly shameful for me; as the teacher was shocked and quite angry and the other children stared at me in a mixture of confusion and horror– then avoided me.

It is far better to learn such lessons from private applications of bitter soap than from a publicly bitter rebuke. The memory of the teacher’s scolding and my classmates responses can still bring me shame to this day. Meanwhile my peers return home to visit aging parents and likely now appreciate once getting ‘soaped’.

If we love others, we will remember this and quietly try to rebuke, to discipline, to ‘soap’ them in private, before they inevitably get soaped publicly.

Oh, were I to have known the joy of parents and close adult caretakers who actually cared enough to privately correct and discipline me as a child! I would have gladly tasted soap on my tongue for the chance to have known that kind of love.

But I have now learned to be glad for their lack of discipline. I believe what I missed actually helps me long for and embrace God’s discipline for those He loves. Now I often ask for, and WANT God’s discipline in my life. 

With all that’s happening in the world there is a frequently repeated statement from experts that ‘soap works well against this virus‘.

Which has me pondering the spiritual connotation of soap, including a wayward child getting his mouth washed out with it. Can our mouths/tongues be chock full of germs? Uh, YES, both literally and figuratively. Often with the things of God there is a direct spiritual correlation to what is happening in the natural world. Which is the reason I am pondering the strange fact that simple soap will work against this awful virus…

Surely that means something?

As shared above, my formative years were spent learning all kinds of uncouth utterances and then having to learn the hard way that was not acceptable in some places. I eventually picked up on how my adult caretakers, and the minister in my family (the same one who molested and assaulted me), said naughty words in ‘close’ or ‘select’ company; but did not talk the same at church or to the general public. My abusers chose their words depending on their audience. But in private it was clear that no real soap had been applied to their tongues.

This ‘pretend soap’ strategy worked. People in church and community thought highly of my adult caretakers, while they continued to do as they pleased privately.

So I began to do the same. I pretend soaped my own mouth too. Words laughed at, at home, were carefully restrained in church and in school. And while I felt wonderfully free with no sting whatsoever to my conscience, I know now that I was growing more rotten inside each time I unleashed profanity in private.

Then came teenage years when I thought openly cussing in public was cool! I already knew how to use swear words with ease. Whereas some of my friends had to practice and think about it. Plus they still had to hide their dirty mouths from Mothers and Fathers- who continued to threaten them with soap. Lucky me, I only had to tone it down in church and school!

In time it was the Holy Spirit who urged me to clean up my mouth. So it was never a ‘mother threatening to get the soap’ nor is it now my own hypocritical efforts to look like I am ‘clean’. Rather, it is the Holy Spirit which convicts me when I slip into old cussing habits (hard to break things that were a part of you since toddlerhood).

Growing up in that environment, and as a survivor of clergy sexual abuse, I know well that the church can be full of leaders and people who ‘pretend soap’ themselves.

And now that it could be deadly to skip the soap in a public restroom, I think it’s a great time to talk about spiritual realities. I believe it has always been DEADLY to our spiritual life, to ‘pretend soap’ ourselves, particularly so as professing Christians. To gloss over those hypocritical areas we all have and to continue to resist the discipline of God is numbing to our conscience. Hopefully the current circumstances might be that wake up call for some. Because I sense we Christians are being urged to stop the pretense and to start truly living under Holy Spirit discipline.

Before this crisis hit I appreciated ministers who urged their flocks to ‘repent’ and I was leery of those who didn’t. Most of the ministers I still follow (it’s dwindled down to only a few now) were watching for signs of Jesus return and were urging repentance long before this virus occurred. Now that it has hit, I am even more leery of those ministers and leaders who are not giving a clear call to repentance. But I still listen to a wide variety of general Christian content as youtube often picks up the next sermon randomly and I’ll keep listening in; more now than ever.

And some of those fresh sermons are making me uneasy. I am taken back to where I was earlier in my therapy processes when certain ministers had mannerisms which triggered flashbacks and trauma to my childhood abuse at the hands of a minister. Some of that is still from past abuse, undoubtedly. As I know well what it is to be bound to a church leader who claims to use ‘the soap’ while he’s reminded unwashed; casting off germs left and right with all he touches. But before you dismiss this entirely as ‘just a trauma survivor response’. What do you think of the hour in which we now live? Do you, as I do, believe that any minister not clearly urging people to personal repentance in this hour is missing something so key that one begins to question if he (or she) is actually soaping up himself?

So if any church leaders are reading this, please, I urge you, if you feel led to tell us to do our Christian service and go check on our neighbors and to keep giving money to the needy and all that, great, those are good and noble things — but please at least add in some concern about CHECKING OURSELVES for unrevealed sin, SOAPING OURSELVES with frequent repentance and truly being ready and watching for Jesus’ return.

I also wonder if this virus and it’s unique consequences on church attendance is being allowed to reveal those who merely claim to be in Christ Jesus. I pray I am not among those who Jesus casts aside as false followers….as it is quite clear to me that the hour is late. Which makes anything I might try to hide from confession to Jesus– dangerous.

As a Christian the most important thing is that I remain wholehearted toward God, myself, and trying to lead others closer to Jesus as is possible (without losing my own faith in the process). Which is why I listen soooo carefully to the message coming from that youtube screen.

I’m listening for the sound of soap bubbles…

As for me and my house– I hope to have cleaned my own doorstep and hands WELL before I hit the streets in service and/or evangelism. For whatever I am carrying WILL spread. Jesus is the soap. My sin is the virus. My efforts to hide my sins on my own and ‘appear clean’ in areas I am not; might be even more deadly than an ‘open kind of sin’– to myself and to others!

Now is not the time to be ‘fake clean’–to keep hiding the dirt and germs. Rather it is the time to wash them away by the blood of Jesus.

Remember: Soap works well against this virus. It doesn’t kill it, per say, but it does remove it until another exposure. Much like continual repentance works against our sin-state.

We are going through much more soap than usual in our home and at work. Today I want to start saying The Lord’s Prayer every time I wash my hands, as the length of time spent washing, and getting into a discipline of regular prayer, are both so important.

And indeed, around the world we are all having greater contact with soap. For those with eyes and ears to see and hear, I do believe that is revealing a spiritual warning and an urging to be in greater contact with the true and only purifier : Jesus Christ and His shed blood for all. Like bleach kills a virus; His shed blood kills our sin.

It is, perhaps, just a private warning for now. But eventually any lack of discipline and any failure to ‘soap up’ will become painfully public.

Few things bother me, after so much therapy to address my childhood traumas, and a lot of time devoted to healing — I am in a pretty good place now.

Yet the reaction of my Sunday school teacher and a room full of peers, to words I didn’t even know were ‘bad’ when I uttered them ‘at church’ as a small child, continue to bring a sense of shame and regret to my heart whenever my mind goes to that painful memory.

I have made peace with it because I see the lesson in it. I believe that memory needs to remain as a thorn of warning for me; and perhaps others. Because as a result of that experience I had, I can safely say that no one wants those things we do or say that we have no idea are ‘bad’–yes, nobody will want those things to be publicly disclosed. It’s unbearable when that happens.

How, then, do we avoid hidden shame being revealed, given that when we are blind, we don’t even know what it is which we cannot see?

We trust the scriptures which say there is no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus. And we know that God publicly exposes us sometimes for our own good and learning; or with those who have resisted beyond all His efforts to discipline privately. We can ask Him to be the soap that reveals and kills any hidden germs we don’t even realize are hidden. We put the time in with ‘soaping our hearts.’ We read the Old Testament and the New Testament and let it work on our hearts to reveal our sins. If we have hard areas, we ask God to rip them open. If we need healing, we take time to stay home and heal. We make prayer and scripture a daily habit and practice as common as brushing our teeth and washing our hands. We take communion. We remember that ‘wherever two or more are gathered’…Church can meet at home, a married couple + Jesus counts as a gathering too.

Since I appreciate those who try to privately squirt some soap in my mouth, or eyes, or ears, I pray someone out there appreciates my effort to do that here.

As for me: I hope I do not run or resist or twist my head and shut up my mouth, but willingly open it and ask to be shown exactly where I am still in need of correction. And to then receive His efforts to correct me. Even if it tastes bitter.

Most soap does. It’s kinda the point.

How Social Distancing Triggers Survivors-(And why I’m Choosing a Quiet Life Instead)

since social norms and expectations have been so drastically altered—I feel emboldened to embrace what I wanted to be all along; before abusers got ahold of me; before authority figures felt they could tell me what I ought to be doing with my own body…

These are difficult times for all. Isolation ‘suggestions’ (rules) are being made and mandated by authority figures. Even ministers are developing new social norms for Christians; with the move to online church services and meetings. My own small fellowship has stopped meeting. My husband’s small Bible study has gone online. Most people are willing to follow these suggestions, believing it is for the greater good. My adult children are now working from their homes. They’ve mentioned coming to our home for a bit since they are working remotely anyway. But they have not done so; yet.

For a survivor of sexual abuse, this is a time that is rife with new fears and old traumas. As an abused child I was unable to develop internal guidelines about boundaries and personal space. ‘Go give your cousin a hug and kiss’ or the dreaded, ‘come sit on my lap’ were frequent commands. Child experts now stress how important it is not to force a child to touch someone if they would rather not.

But I didn’t have that choice as a child. If it was suggested that I sit on the lap of an adult relative; or go for a long drive with an adult family member, I knew I had to follow the suggestion. I felt powerless in the face of my perpetrators. My main caretakers had me in a state of helplessness. Extended family members further groomed and exploited me, long into adulthood. When I left my childhood home for one of my own, the perpetrators of my childhood continued to cross boundaries through harassing comments over the phone or unannounced visits to my home. Wherein I again felt, and believed myself to be, powerless to stop it.

Coming into the realization that I had personal space, and choice, and that I could choose who to let into that personal space (and that ‘family members’ didn’t get an immediate free pass to be there) was an ongoing and costly process. And I am still patching holes in those boundary walls around myself.

I can almost hear the voice of a former therapist as I type this: Remember that boundaries are walls with gates! We don’t want to wall ourselves in completely. Rather, we get to choose what and who to let in the gate!

As I see the current social distancing rules being implemented, it gives me pause. I once again feel powerless. Following the ‘rules’ as they are being handed down makes me uneasy, even as I know it is the right thing to do. I am once again fighting a familiar childlike fear— that I’ve done something horribly wrong and that this is all my fault somehow. That I shouldn’t have taken that airplane trip I felt it was still okay to take…because to disobey an authoritative suggestion, in any way, means I’m a bad girl. (Even if the authority suggesting it is evil.)

My husband keeps saying he doesn’t care if he gets sick himself. But he just doesn’t want to be responsible for making someone else sick. Which only makes me feel guiltier for being so concerned about myself. Traversing the recent thoughts in my head is like walking through a minefield.

Needless to say: Obeying these new social distancing commands doesn’t give me a senes of calm and peace.

And how can it? These are unprecedented times. We are sacrificing our relationships and our mental well-being in an attempt to protect our collective physical health. Something that can not fully be protected anyway.  Oh, I’m not suggesting that social distancing isn’t the correct response. Again: I’m practicing it myself. I haven’t left the house in days. I am simply pointing out that this action will also have consequences, and all the more so for the vulnerable amongst us- the elderly, the infirm, the disabled, the mentally ill and any of us who have already survived major traumas. Pray for these people. Check on them. Be there for them. Have patience with them in their fears.

Because this is a particularly difficult time for those of us who were already struggling. But as is often the case; those who have not suffered much themselves rarely stop to consider the plight of the already suffering.

It seems like this time of social distancing would be an introvert’s dream. In some ways, it is. As an abuse survivor, I shy away from people who like to draw in too close when talking to me. I need my space. I like to be alone. I like being in a grocery store where the other people in the aisle keep their distance from me (and then some). All the more so because I never had that sense of personal space growing up. But it also made me sad. Being told to isolate myself triggers old memories. Memories of a time when I was so isolated, as a child, that the frequent loneliness was a constant physical hurt in the back of my throat. Then I hardened myself, afraid to get close to people for different reasons. All because the choices with what to do with my own body were not my own to make.

My health has never been ‘good’; and that also gives me pause in the midst of a global pandemic. Many people who have lived through traumas end up with autoimmune issues and disabilities. I am no different. I’m still figuring out what, exactly, is wrong with me physiologically. I am no longer willing to be told by authorities in white coats that I’m ‘just an anxious’ person with psychosomatic symptoms. The biggest step I made for my own mental health came in realizing that there is something physical going on with my body; likely the result of past traumas, that no doctor has yet to be able to explain. Let alone diagnose and treat.

So to know that I am ‘amongst the vulnerable’ due to my physical maladies unleashes fresh grief for what was taken from me. A surge of fresh anger comes too; as I realize the full extent of damage my perpetrators caused me. How those early attacks against me left me vulnerable and weak in so many areas; including physically.

I realize all over again just how costly sexual abuse is to a child. How it remains crippling to a victim who was not given proper help or timely intervention. In order to try and protect myself physically— as a child stuck in an ongoing abusive situation— I harmed myself mentally instead. Believing I was a bad girl and keeping emotional distance from everyone was easier than believing the truth: that I was in constant danger from caretakers who were not actually caring for me.

I see the toll that that old manipulation of my body and mind took on my future relationships. Particularly those with my spouse and children. I see how it left me vulnerable to fear. Weak in times of national and global crises, and all too willing to quickly sacrifice my mental health and relationships in order to survive—to just physically get through it—whatever IT may be. In the past this has resulted in many moments of paralyzed inaction where I did what was expected of me by others. Instead of what was truly born of my heart and calling in life. I don’t know what it will look like for me, walking forward into a future where nearly everyone seems: a bit paralyzed.

All I know is that I’ve had so much time stolen, and, given my broken mindset, went on to waste a lot of time myself. Time that I could have been cultivating peace and joy instead of living a bit paralyzed by fear.

As a note I wrote to myself years ago, and still have posted on my fridge reminds me:

Triggers aren’t the problem. Avoiding pain is the problem.

This recent virus, and the worldwide social upheaval it has caused, has been like a grenade thrown into a giant barrel of triggers. I imagine it’s similar for other trauma survivors. If not, I’m glad to hear it! As for me: where do I even start assessing the pain? Sigh. I have to start with underlining and reaffirming my belief system and let it unfold from there.

And I believe what was meant for evil will be used by God for good. Perhaps God is using this time to show me the remaining hard areas of my heart, which weren’t as tender and soft as I’d thought. Hard areas which are ready to be ripped open, and must be ripped open for me to keep walking with Jesus. (Deuteronomy 30:6, Matthew 13:15). Well, even so: I am shocked at how many of hard spots remain. I thought I’d made more progress than I had.

Another way to put it: I am shocked at the size of the healing onion I’ve been peeling. I thought it was like a basketball.

It’s more like Pluto.

  • A ‘healing onion’ metaphor is something those of us in recovery, (from most anything), often talk about. There are so many layers to that onion! And each one hurts. The eight hundredth layer of onion makes me cry just as much as peeling back the first layer did.

And so as I look forward, to a future that on the one hand looks scary and isolated, I see how influenced I remain by ‘outside suggestions’ and how necessary it is to tune all those out and figure out what to let in, and out, the gate of my heart.

I also see an opportunity to do something that I’ve always wanted to do more than anything else; without a lot of social pressure to conform to something else entirely.

It has always been my desire to simply live a quiet life and to teach that to my children. But abuse and social norms and a desire for popularity, deep seated people pleasing, familial expectations and the need to make a living ($) kept me from doing what I wanted to be doing within my own properly walled life–back when the children were young. Now that they may descend back home for a bit-perhaps I can get a second chance to correct a few things.

And since social norms and expectations have been so drastically altered—I feel emboldened to embrace what I wanted to be all along; before abusers got ahold of me; before authority figures felt they could tell me what I ought to be doing with my own body…

I am encouraged that some of what I did not freely give my own children, in their childhoods (when I was still blinded from the fog of abuse), might now be freely given. Somehow. Someway. But first I need to live it out myself.

Underneath the handwritten refrigerator note that reminds me:

Triggers aren’t the problem. Avoiding pain is the problem

I am posting two Bible verses. Meant to guide me into the future.

  • Make it your goal to live a quiet life, minding your own business and working with your hands, just as we instructed you before. Then people who are not believers will respect the way you live, and you will not need to depend on others. (1 Thessalonians 4:11-12)
  • Now when these things begin to happen, look up and lift up your heads, because your redemption draws near. (Luke 21:28)

I seek peace. Contentment. A quiet life. Wherein I can freely feel both pain and joy; as it comes and needs to come. Quietly peeling that Puto-sized healing onion and being okay with that task; day in and day out. A walled up and fortified home with a gate, and a door and a front porch that opens to the good and stays firmly shut against the bad. While the greatest source of hope, transcends even the hardest pains and the best moments of pleasure left on earth, and hinges entirely upon Jesus’ return for me.

For: surely, I now believe the hour of His return is quite near.

But if you are reading this, and it has triggered new fears: Please know there is still time to repent and be saved. Romans 3:23 for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. Confess that sin state to God. And then call on Jesus. John 3:16-18 For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved. “He who believes in Him is not condemned; but he who does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.”

Not that I am suggesting anything here. I am offering up the Word of God as it was offered to me.

I freely choose to repent. I choose to believe. I choose to forgive those who have hurt me. In spite of many well meaning (I have to believe?) Christian suggestions to do just that, it was somewhere between the Holy Spirit’s leading and my own heart desiring Christ–that I chose, and continue to choose, those things–entirely on my own.

Because a forced choice, a softly suggested choice, a groomed choice, a vague feeling of obligation and guilt–all that is meaningless, and I believe, can even be meant for evil.

“Twas grace that taught my heart to fear. And grace my fear relieved.” John Newton (a former slave trader).

That’s exactly what it was like for me in my own conversion. The fear of God gripped me and then calmed me.

My abusers, the minister who molested and assaulted me, the evil powers and principalities that rule this world– couldn’t, and still can’t, take away my simple free will choice to follow Jesus. I am affirming that choice in this writing. Because if ever there was a time for such affirmations–it is now.

Now that that’s been affirmed: I will continue to peel away at Pluto. And quietly work; hoping to fly under the radar until I either die or Jesus comes for me in the clouds.

Maranatha

 

 

 

It’s Tough Being Switzerland, (even though I #believe survivors)

 

alpine beautiful bloom blossom

I have mixed emotions about the #metoo and #believesurvivors movements. I empathize with and support other survivors through prayers and well wishes but I really just want to ‘be like Switzerland’ (neutral) in regard to the whole worldwide movement thing.

As an assault survivor I do not want my name, or my trauma, to be made into public fodder.

I know that many other survivors also don’t want to go public with their stories using their ‘real’ names (fearing for our lives is a reality for some of us). Add a bunch of public attention…and victims who wished to remain anonymous are often nosed out by reporters.

From the start I feared this would end up being all about the ‘left’ versus the ‘right.’ Religious versus heathen.

It pretty much has now. And that’s painful to watch.

On the one hand, I appreciate the awareness and the support of so many survivors coming together. I know how desperately victims and survivors need to hear three simple words: “I believe you.” Those three words can be the difference between recovery and an even darker hole.

Others see the pain the family members of accused perpetrators are going through and get angry at the people coming forward with past claims of abuse.

I suggest feeling empathy and sadness instead. Because the reality of sexual abuse is that there are MANY victims, never just one. Perpetrators’ children and spouses suffer greatly as well, even if they were never perpetrated upon themselves. Spouses and children of victims suffer too. This is a testament to the horror which is sexual abuse.

Now that this topic has been pushed into the public conversation, many feel they can give their own opinion…whether or not they have lived through it themselves, or whether or not they actually know the people paraded about in the news.

I live in Middle America, where it is more red than blue. My Facebook feed is full of memes about alleged perpetrators being innocent and alleged victims being liars. There is even a ‘joke’ going around that George Strait sexually assaulted Emmylou Hayes…and other memes urging me to ‘support Kavanaugh’s family’. One minister I follow referred to Kavanaugh’s accusers as ‘harlots’. That was very painful to read.

So today when a Facebook ‘friend’ shared a photo of Dr. Ford’s lawyer walking behind Hilary Clinton with a ‘does this surprise anyone’ headline…I thought to myself:

Nope. It doesn’t surprise me. I saw this coming. I suspected the me too movement would become a toxic political ‘football’ and that the ones hurt the most by that thing flying around would be survivors (who may be triggered by public vitriol).

Plus, I went through a big ‘end times’ phase before I got sick with PTSD. During my studies I learned things like thesis + antithesis = synthesis. I don’t want to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but it’s probably already too late for that. So: I sense the Hegelian Dialect is at play here.

What is the synthesis we are being pushed toward?

Hang on, I’ll get there. First of all, I believe the escalation of sexual abuse, particularly in the Christian church, is an act of pure evil. It is by design. It is one of the ways the enemy is seeking to destroy Christians before his time is up. And it’s working. Because not only is this evil damaging victims of abuse. Ministers and church goers are being swayed by their emotions (through well-placed memes and photos) and taking up the mighty sword of ‘the pen’ in hasty response. (Things we post on Facebook and blogs are ALL self-published materials–by us, even shared memes from others become our property and responsiblity when we share them). Engaging in public battles we can’t possibly know the real facts about, is not normally seen as Christ like behavior. But yet it is applauded tine and again by Christians. As in most things; there is a proverb for that.

Therefore, I am afraid that we are collectively being ‘synthesized’ (thesis+antithesis=synthesis) to accept chaos and lies as normal.

Liar. From the one side.

Liar. (and: harlot) Shouted from the other side.

What to believe? Who to believe?

Everyone’s trust becomes ruined. Which is why I have a hunch this is a battle that Satan himself encouraged just for the love of chaos and the churning out of more lies.

John 8:44 When he (Satan) lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.

Oh, I’m not some kind of saint here. A part of me really wants to get personal and use my own sword in the debate, since I have also been called ‘crazy’ for claims I have made about my own past abuse.

But I don’t know Kavanaugh or his accusers, I don’t trust any media outlets right now, and so I cannot opine one way or another. A ‘that is really awful’ and ‘I am going to trust God to sort it out’ response seems the only wise Christian response, to me. So I hope to remain like Switzerland, even though its getting tougher all the time. As long as I have Jesus as my rock though, I don’t need a view of the Matterhorn.

1 Corinthians 14:33 For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace.

Matthew 7:14 But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.