at age three, my world turned viciously ugly, and i have been living in hiding ever since – shame, victimization, feelings of having to be perfect or ‘bad’ things would happen, feelings of worthlessness, fears of never being truly known or loved, and fears of rejection and abandonment have all shaped and ruled my life. a few weeks ago it all changed. the precipitating factor was preparing to minister to the bar girls in bangkok. while being briefed on what to expect, i panicked. though i probably looked fairly normal on the outside, inside i was confused and screaming; at times i felt i was gasping for air. i was completely puzzled by my reactions yet felt certain that i needed to walk through it. with the help of Jesus and another missionary who regularly works with the girls, i persevered and spent the afternoon and evening in the nana district where the sex trade business is thriving. much of my time there remains muddled, and over the next few days i processed as much as i could with my teammate, mark, but still had no insight.
‘falling on my knees in worship
giving all i am to seek your face
Lord all i am is yours’
when we arrived in manila for our team debrief, mark suggested i speak with one of our counselors, karen. after relating to her my bangkok story and the continued mystery surrounding it, she began to ask me about my childhood. oh no, i thought, not this again. the tears began to flow, the emotional rawness rising. how could this be? i have been back to these painful places so many times before, working through all the crap. through karen’s keen discernment, she recognized that my panic was possibly coming from childhood trauma, and offered to lead me through a healing prayer session later that evening. i was dismayed that ‘this was that’, and i walked away with my grief overflowing and in desperate need of alone time with my father God. everywhere i looked, there was no privacy to be found. feeling like a caged animal about to go beserk, my sweet brother brandon rescued me by offering the sanctuary of his vacant bedroom. i tumbled down onto his mattress on the floor, thoroughly saturating his pillow with my tears. the sweet relief of release calmed me enough to pray, and in his great mercy, God revealed to me that my panic stemmed from unconsciously relating to the stolen innocence and childhoods that many of these girls faced. ahh, how good the peace of God’s wisdom.
‘my whole life i place in your hands
God of mercy humbled i bow down
in your presence at your throne’
scheduling conflicts delayed our meeting till morning – early morning hours are laborious for me, it seems to take forever for me to wake up enough to be marginally coherent. imagine my surprise at being fully present at 730a, ready to tackle this ugliness yet again. through the hour and a half process, we identified the lies, ungodly beliefs, and unhealthy ties that resulted from that childhood experience. it seemed simply incredible that on some level i was still tenaciously holding onto these lies i’d believed all these years, even after all the previous healing work i had done. equally crazy, was recognizing the depths of which this one incident affected most of my life and set into motion so much dysfunction. we then renounced these lies and went through a forgiving process. lastly, she asked me to go back to that particular memory and see where Jesus had been — i saw myself running around in the chaos, crying and screaming to be heard but no one was listening. over my shoulder i saw Jesus standing off to the side. i ran over and stood by him. while we watched the events together from the sideline, he took my hand. at some point i ended up sitting in his lap. to my astonishment, i then saw myself looking up into his face and we were laughing. that was it for me, i looked over at karen and said, enough. there have been too few times in my life that i have just been with the Lord laughing in complete joy; this is where i chose to end this memory once and for all.
‘i called, you answered
and you came to my rescue
and i want to be where you are’
i am reminded of robert deniro’s character in ‘the mission’, a brutal slave trader who commits a terrible crime of passion. he seeks solace with spanish jesuit priests in the south american jungle and while traveling the long and rough journey to their mission site in the mountains, he insists on carrying this large, very heavy bag across his back. he stubbornly refuses the assistance of others, feeling somehow that this is his just reward and penance. while climbing towards asylum, he loses his grip and the bag tumbles into the river below; there is both agony and ecstasy on his face – his burden has been unexpectedly removed, yet this newly found release shatters his self-image and sense of control; the freedom is almost too much to bear. much later, in what is my favorite scene, he sits by candlelight reading the bible, basking in the presence of God, peace and forgiveness clearly reflected upon his face.
‘in my life, be lifted high
in our world, be lifted high
in our love, be lifted high’
i am also reminded of Christ’s words on the cross, ‘it is finished’. yes, yes, yes, it is finished. my heavy load has been dropped, and left, at the foot of the cross, and i am joyfully released. the beautiful cross has set me free indeed. ALL glory and honor be given to God.
