Friday's Faith - Passively Being Changed? ~by Tommy Prince

Friday's Faith

Passively Being Changed?

~by Tommy Prince

"He said that those who have endured some misfortune will always be set apart but that it is just that misfortune which is their gift and which is their strength."

~Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses

Change happens when you are powerless. Going into surgery, there was not a thing I could do for myself. The optimal thing for me to do was to do nothing. The whole control I had was to relax my anxiety through deep breathing exercises. And then I put my hands and my life into the physician's hands. Being powerless and helpless, and then yielding to the surgeon was the catalyst for change.

Now in recovery, I have much more power. Being in compliance post-surgery however, is still a yielding because I am restricted in how much weight I can lift, in the type of exercise I can do, and in the kind of food I can eat. All these activities must be adhered to for the healing --that I cannot see-- to go on. Again, yielding to the physician's orders is my doing my part to facilitate healing.

The overwhelming sense of helplessness (which is part of the definition of trauma) in our Child-Loss experience is also the thing that is going to save me, and that is my yielding to the healing Spirit of God...

Picture, thanks to Heartlight.org

Thursday's Therapy - Damaged

Thursday's Therapy

Damaged

~Tommy and Angie Prince

"Central to the experience of traumatic stress are the dimensions of

• helplessness
• powerlessness, and
• a threat to one's life.

"Trauma attacks the individual's sense of self and predictability of the world."

~Bessel A. van der Kolk

We are impacted on so many dimensions by our Grief and our Trauma:

• body
• soul
• spirit
• mind
• emotions

*****

I am a damaged person. Yes, I can function through a day (well, it may not be pretty, neat, or as organized as someone else's functioning, but it is functioning). I can walk, I can talk, I can think, I can smile, I can even laugh. I can relate in many different ways. And yes, I can work. I still have a practice in psychotherapy which I love. I love helping people. But my case load is not up to par -- it is about 1/3 of what it once was.

One of my clients is a creative designer in advertising. He had seen me a few years back, and he has now re-entered therapy. I believe he must sense I am different. (He knows we lost Merry Katherine.) The other day, he asked me if I had enough business coming in. Why he asked this I'm not sure, but creating business is his line of work after all. But I stopped and thought about it. My studied response was

"I have as much business as I can handle right now."

Fortunately, he seemed okay with my response.

But you all know:

Losing a child is downright debilitating. I am a different person now. My life has been damaged. I spend a great deal of time grieving. In terms of working and knowing what I am capable of handling, I do not even know who I am anymore! My system has been ripped up. I am hyper-vigilant. I am fragile, for my system, my entire being, is compromised. For the past month, I have been unable to sleep through the night like I did before. I am agitated. My body is hyper-aroused as if ready for danger.

Many psychologists say PTSD includes avoiding triggers that remind one of the trauma. I cannot relate to that symptom really.

I do not avoid triggers that remind me of the loss of my child -- I welcome them and cry over them. They remind me of my child, and in their own way serve as my only way of "being with" my child right now. And so I feel them to the full and work to grieve them.

But I do avoid something else.

Secondary Trauma is what I avoid because my Primary Trauma of Losing My Baby Girl is ALL I can deal with right now.

I do not need any complications of further trauma to my heart.

What is one of the secondary traumas that I face?

Unrealistic Expectations: We child-loss grievers are experiencing a damage that the world is not willing to accept, especially the Christians it seems --

There is a pressured expectation of a rush to heal, a sprint, a drag-race expectation really, to heal, be-done, fini, instantly recover.

This expectation alone is harmful, so misguided, and in many ways downright cruel.

There are indeed benefits to this Refining of Fire through which we are going. We find we do not have the "layers of stupid" on us any more. We are no longer walking through the world looking through the lenses of Idealism nor Romanticism. We relate to people -- not for how we want them to be, as we once did... I used to assume people were there for me. I was assuming they cared for me and that they had my best interests at heart -- but now we try to see them for who they really are... We no longer just assume such sweetness to be there.

Now, thanks to our increased vigilance and God's sweet discernment, we have a Clarity we did not have before about the world and about people. For example, we can very quickly sniff out if other people have their own self-serving agendas for us, despite our being in very raw grief.

How dare anyone have their own self-serving agenda for us when we are Under Assault, Under Siege in this ongoing Grief-and-Trauma-War we are having to fight in every single dimension of our lives: body, soul, mind, spirit, and emotions.

We therefore expose ourselves to these people in a different way, in a much more protected way.

For WE CANNOT AFFORD TO ADD SECONDARY TRAUMAS TO OUR PRIMARY TRAUMA.

Dr. Bessel A. van der Kolk, a psychiatrist specializing in trauma (even helping to coin the term Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorder), says about PTSD and traumatic event(s)' effect on our being:

"It is this Sense of Being Damaged, rather than the immediate horror of the Trauma, that many victims describe as the worst aspect of their ordeal in the long term."

~Dr. Bessel A. van der Kolk

(capitalizations and highlights mine)

This is a very important statement. This sense of being damaged IS overwhelming. Some even call it an "Invisible Disability."

NOW, ADD to Severe Trauma the absolute Worst Grief in the world--that of losing your child!

Losing our child is the worst thing that could happen, but it did happen, and our child's death and the inherent loss of her life here with us while we're on earth is the worst aspect of our ordeal. And while trying to grapple with such great hurt and loss, we have the debilitating damage to all dimensions of our very being brought on by the trauma, and you've got one sick puppy -- who needs to do Grief work, Trauma work, and oh-yeah-by-the-way, carry on with your job and your life and pay all your bills, all the while trying to avoid any secondary traumas on top of all this.

It all feels well nigh impossible...

Picture: http://www.fotosearch.com/photos-images/heart-arrow_3.html

Traumatic Stress: The Effects of Overwhelming Experience on Mind, Body, and Society, Dr. Bessel A. van der Kolk, Alexander C. McFarlane, and Lars Weisaeth, Editors, pp. 136, 137 and 215.

From gate to Gate

From gate to Gate




Of Mommy and Child, oh the times divine,
Short though they were, they were God’s sweet lifeline,
Held tightly at times with this heart of mine,
To cherish each moment, sweet times benign . . .



When you left, I had to plant my garden lush,
With flowers that would stand in a straight line—
Otherwise, my worried mind would not hush . . .
The flowers . . . would obey . . . their bound’ry line.




The days drug on that you were not yet home;
51 days on the streets you would roam,
And then you called—you wanted to come home;
I rushed to get you, praying for shalom . . .



Before you left that day, we’d asked you t’ stay—
I took what was t’ be my last look at you;
We hugged so tight, and yet … you pulled away;
You were nineteen; what else could Mommy do …?




You ran down the steps and out of our gate,

And I

won’t get to see you

till




Heav’n’s Gate . . .

Painting: The Garden at Pontoise by Camille Pissarro, 1877

Poetry prompts line, look, lush from
http://simplysnickers.blogspot.com/2009/07/poetry-prompt-through-sunday-july-12.html


Written 7/5/09 – From gate to Gate – Angie Bennett Prince

From Tangled to Jaws of LIFE

From Tangled
to
Jaws of LIFE

From being tangled up in a drug world
To being tangled up in a mangled car . . .

Our “jaws of life” couldn’t pull you from one.
Too late, “jaws of life” pulled you from th’ other.

Tangled in drugs cut your heart, soul, and spirit.
Mangled car mutilated your body.

Tangled in drugs cut you away from us.
Mangled up by car cut your life from us.

From tangled to mangled, both took your heart …


Till LIFE picked you up, put you in His Jaws,
Saving from the one preying on your soul . . .




Photo from www.Flickr.com

Written 5/22/09 – From Tangled to Jaws of LIFE – Angie Bennett Prince

Losing You Before I Lost You

Crystal Tears, originally uploaded by Co®tex™.

Losing You Before I Lost You …

Baby, did you know before you had t’ go…
I was losing you before I lost you?
I bottomed out today; I got so low,
My body crashed before my spirit knew
How badly I hurt, rashly missing you.

I had to watch you disappear before
My very eyes; Satan tangled with you,
Trying to destroy; it hurt me to th’ core.
Th’ day you met mar’juana is th’ day I’d rue.
Oh, how I hurt, drastically missing you!

You couldn’t hear my pleas, tuned out my cries.
The Enemy lured you with his delight;
He destroyed you before my very eyes.
You were so blind, you could not see the light.
And now, baby girl, I’m left missing you!

You abandoned the little girl I knew,
Foll’wing so hard after th’ drug- induced thrill.
A naïve teen, you barely had a clue;
I knew, for you, it’d be a poisonous pill.
Hurting, baby girl, I’m left missing you.

I can’t decide which is worse . . . losing you
Before . . . trying to stop the disaster,
But nothing we tried was getting through t’ you;
You wouldn’t stop, or . . . losing you after . . . .
Either way, we lose; we’re left missing you.

Losing you before—was terrifying—
We knew the implications of your choice
As you chose acts that were death-defying;
But you couldn’t hear . . . like we had no voice.
So we were left, helplessly missing you.

Losing you after—was life-shattering—
You lost your life, and so we too were killed.
Our souls take a beating, our hearts take a battering;
You were killed, so our hearts, ripped-open, spilled.
And now we’re left, lifelessly missing you.

Th’ only hope we have—we’ll see you again;
Satan killed your body; God saved your soul.
God paved a way for you; His saving plan
Made you whole, so we will hold you again!
Till that day, we’re left, sadly missing you.

Written 4/5/2009 - Losing You Before I Lost You - Angie Bennett Prince

Tsunami of Grief - When Will the Grief Ever Stop?

Tsunami of Grief - When Will the Grief Ever Stop?

written May 4, 2008 by Angie Bennett Prince, 21 months after Merry Katherine's death

Just as sudden displacements such as earthquakes and landslides produce high energy waves of short duration that can devastate coastal regions, so my child's death has caused a landslide in this mother's heart, soul, and spirit of seismic proportions, spawning tidal waves that come crashing down on me, sometimes at tsunami force, causing near-devastation.  

Once her tumultuous journey as an acting-out teen "experimenting" with drugs hit my life like a boulder being thrown into a once-placid pond, causing ripples and waves of differing proportions, oft-times disconcerting, other times painful, and many times terrorizing.  

But Merry Katherine's Death has been tantamount to causing a virtual earthquake or landslide in the grounds of my heart, provoking seismic waves of tsunami proportions to come coursing down upon my being, effectively wiping out any semblance of life as I once knew it.

Yes, now I am in a period of "recovery," yet still I am devastated.  I am not sure how much "life" is left in the topography of my soul--that remains to be seen.  And I realize that what "life" does survive may cause my life to take on a whole different form. 

Just as Indonesia is still Indonesia after the recent tsunami, its topography changed completely with many aspects of its former "life" being snuffed out--sometimes temporarily, other times completely.  The same concept applies to me, the Grief-struck.  Just as Indonesia is still Indonesia after the tsunami hit, though life there may look very different now, so too "I" am still "I" and yet "I" have changed.  Not "if" I have changed is to be determined, but "how" I have changed remains the unanswered question.  

But body searches are still being conducted in my heart, soul and spirit to see what life has survived and can remain.   It leaves me questioning who I am now, what I am capable of doing with the amount of damage I have sustained, and what does God want to do with all of this ravaged soul?  At times I wonder, can anything be done with such a ravaged soul?  But mostly, I believe that "we are more than conquerors through Him who loves us," yet I have no idea what form my life will take at this point.  

So I ask, "When will my Grief stop?"  

At this point, it looks like I am healing some under God's wing (with lots of quiet and alone time with Him), as God faithfully continues to work in my body, soul and spirit as I open my heart up to Him.  Don't get me wrong; healing is almost a full-time-job, a daily (if not minute-by-minute) process, often painful and grueling, but God meets me there and touches my pain in a way that comforts me deeply; His comfort often leaves me sobbing and praising Him at the same time!  

But the Grief?  I think the Grief remains until I reach the soothing, still waters of Heaven's shores where my Heavenly Father Himself will embrace me and will wipe all tears from my eyes.

35 Who shall ever separate us from Christ's love?  Shall suffering and affliction and tribulation?  Or calamity and distress?  Or persecution or hunger or destitution or peril or sword?  36 Even as it is written, "For Thy sake we are put to death all the day long; we are regarded and counted as sheep for the slaughter."  37 Yet amid all these things we are more than conquerors and gain a surpassing victory through Him Who loved us.  38 For I am persuaded beyond doubt (am sure) that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities, nor things impending and threatening nor things to come, nor powers, 39 Nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.  

                                             Romans 8:35-39 (Amplified)  

3 Then I heard a mighty voice from the throne and I perceived its distinct words, saying, "See!  The abode of God is with men, and He will live (encamp, tent) among them; and they shall be His people, and God shall personally be with them and be their God.  

4 God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and death shall be no more, neither shall there be anguish (sorrow and mourning) nor grief nor pain any more, 

for the old conditions and the former order of things have passed away.  

Revelation 21:3-4 (Amplified)

What Was Lost, in Darkness Found

What was lost, in darkness found.
(By Nathan Prince)

The worst of all realities had come: I no longer had my dear companion by my side. My closest friend, one who had helped shape me into the man that I am, was gone. Our lives now utterly and completely separated, Merry Katherine, the sister I knew would always be there, had died. The many roles she had in my heart that used to be so precious to me had now formed gaping holes. I lost the baby sister I cherished; the young woman I lovingly watched over; the sidekick in whom I delighted; the soul I had dearly bonded with; I would never know any of them again.

As you can probably gather, we were close, and pretty inseparable growing up. We actually referred to each other as our other half most of the time. Her death had indeed left me with a feeling of incompletion. I had to suddenly accept that of all the people in this world, it would be her presence that my life would now be missing. I do not know what it would be like to lose the mother who had given me life and love. Or my father who had inspired me to be courageous and a humble servant of the Lord. Or my brother who had brought me constant laughter and camaraderie. No, of all people, this was the single most capable person that “got me.” Merry and I shared a lifelong commitment of intimacy and partnership.

I think (the) majority of the pain was the timing of it all. Both of us being in college, we had regained our solidarity. This was the time in our lives when we most needed each other and we could really appreciate having the other to count on. Her troubled romantic life and my lack of a romantic life gave us the solace in knowing the other would be there for us. Through thick and thin, we trusted it. In depression or elation, we relied on it. In quarrels or harmony, we understood it. Both of us knew deep down that neither of us would ever leave the other’s side.

Neither of us would lose the hope we shared when we were little: “You’ll always be my best friend no matter what.” It was a pact that we were confident nothing in this world could break…but we never considered it could be broken without either of us deciding it to…or so suddenly.

As much grief that I experienced in the next 2 years would provide me with a lingering feeling of betrayal that I had no say in losing my best friend. I had zero say in the matter. Oddly, I did not blame God for it. I did not really blame Satan (as much as he is the root of all deaths). It felt kind of like the feeling when you lose the one object you hold most precious to your heart. Whatever that thing is, you greatly value it in your heart. When it goes missing you feel almost incomplete without it, and losing it devastates you to the core. Depending on what that thing is, the amount of sorrow that follows varies from situation to situation, but we have all had it happen. You don’t have anything else to do but accept that it’s gone. You don’t look at God to blame that it went missing, it just did. No matter who is to blame for losing it, it just hurts, and that’s all that matters to you.

. . . This was how it was after her death, when I had to start from scratch in my perspective on life itself. I began to view life in an eternal sense, simply because I had to. Peace only came when looking at things eternally. Temporarily, her death was certainly tragic, but eternally it was majestic. My sister was now in the presence of the King. How could I stay in a state of sorrow when the one I looked out for the most was now in the loving arms of her Creator? The one that loved her the most had welcomed her home, and I accepted my new life out of the trust that she now had a new, perfect life.

When we both were at Lee (University), I used to cry when we would worship in the same room because I knew that she was rekindling her relationship with the One who wanted her most. I felt at peace knowing she and I were worshiping the God that had blessed us with each other and that we were sharing in the joy that comes from being in His presence. The world would assume that it would only logically follow that with her absence, my worshiping God without her would feel incomplete or lacking. Illogically, the next time I worshiped the Lord, it was even more emotional. I was worshiping the One she was now with, and I felt her with me more than ever before in the presence of our Father. It was as if there was now an overflow of joy like never before knowing that she now worships as a way of life as I do it with a conscious effort. More tears had never fallen out of my eyes when one day, during worship in chapel, I was standing, hands raised toward heaven, singing along with all the angels, and I could feel her hand in mine as we truly worshiped God in awe of Him in all His glory.

I now see (from) her death. . . a gift from a loving God. Do I think (God) caused (her death) to happen? I don’t believe so. Did He just let it happen? I think He has more control than that. . . . He mourned with me over it . . . . I had never felt the Lord like I did when I was at the depths of suffering in, (grappling) with the loss of my truest friend I had in this world. That is when God came down to me; He took that hole that she left, and not only filled it, but replaced it with a perfect friendship with Himself.

I understand my heavenly Father as love. I felt His love more powerfully at 21 than many people ever get to. . . . I miss (Merry Katherine) and the closeness we had with all my heart. But it was with losing her that God was able to make Himself all in all in my life when I had to start from scratch. On August 2nd, 2006, I lost my best friend, but I gained a Savior I had never known before. I had known a lot about who He is, but I had not known Him as He is. He is not a God that loves us from atop the clouds, but a God that stoops down low, comes into our deepest places, lifts our eyes, picks us up, wipes away our tears, and holds us…as long as we’d like, and covers us all over with the comfort and peace that surpasses understanding. That my friends, is the love that I could never have known before she left . . . and it’s a priceless gift that I would wish (for) all of you. Let God bring you out of tragedy and into His arms. He loves you, and He waits for you.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing. ----Romans 15:13 (KJV)

I love each and every one of you. . . . (A)s much as we need love, I pray for all of you to find it in the only Person that can love you infinitely and unconditionally.

(Written by Nathan Prince for Facebook Friends, highlights mine)
Yesterday at 7:26am (Feb. 27, 2009)

Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome and Grief

My brother Rick is in the hospital tonight with pneumonia. Since I was a child, we had to be sure to get him right to the hospital if there was a chance he had pneumonia. You see, my brother is handicapped--he can't walk; he's never been able to walk, so he is in a wheelchair. Being in a wheelchair over all those years, (he is 58), Rick's muscles have gotten weaker and weaker, so contracting pneumonia can be extremely serious when he doesn't have the muscle-power to cough enough to clear his lung congestion.

By this evening after intravenous antibiotics, Rick is doing better, but isn't out of the woods yet (he's still in Intensive Care). He reflected back over the day with my sisters who have been with him since 8:00 this a.m. that he thought for awhile there he really wasn't gonna make it. No wonder my sisters had called me (I'm five hours away), tearful and frightened this morning. Tommy and I prayed intensely for him all day. I'm so thankful God heard and is answering all our prayers!

Having lost my daughter, I find myself getting traumatized when anything bad happens to someone I love. The possibility of losing them has become all-too-real to me. So my body and emotions fast-forward ahead to the worst possibility, and I'm there, fearful and grieving the worst.

Even though I'm a therapist, I forget that Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome can happen right along with grief. When I get triggered (like if one of my sons forgets to call me when going away, and I hit near-panic over the possibilities), knowledge doesn't seem to phase my emotions. Even though I might know intellectually that the odds are great he just forgot to call, my body and emotions are already traumatized, and there's not much I can do to undo them at that point.

Grief can be so complex and complicated. It is almost impossible to help someone else to understand all the intricacies involved with grief where one thing affects another, affects another, and so on. (I can't even understand complicated grief, and I'm living it!) Some days, I can hardly function when the grief has been intense; okay, I'll admit . . . at some level, that pain is always fairly debilitating; for it not to be debilitating is the exception.

That's one reason I'm so glad I can write during this time--doing something productive when just about everything else is "high" on the dysfunctional scale. Thank You, God, for Your creative juices to be flowing through me when I'm out for the count for much else.

But wait, isn't that how You always said it would be? 

"My grace is sufficient for you; for My power is made perfect when your power runs out."  2 Corinthians 12:9a

Move in and through me, Lord; I guess I am primed and ready for Your power to flow!