lessons from the grave, pt. I

We’ll call it a clearing. Or perhaps a stretch of a patch of sunlight on a dark, dark path we call the healing path. But now that it’s light out again, maybe just for the last few days or maybe this light is here to stay, I’m going to share the lessons that are only borne in the treasures of the darkness. The darkness so heavy it threatens to drown us, but a darkness that gives birth to the power of stillness and waiting on the God you’ve called to save you. The only One who knows the way out and the One who is tenderly leading you through.

The healing path, my own personal experiences and the book these posts have been inspired by titled believe it or not, The Healing Path, has taken me on a journey to places I wish I’d never visited. We’re far from the end, yet I’m coming up for air. Able to share a little bit of my lessons from the grave. Lessons from the shadowlands of life that man most seldom wish to go, but are sometimes the very places our God wants to walk us through. And the very places that are necessary for our growth.

I find it quite interesting that the journey God has been taking me on, and the journey that parallels a lot of the realities of pain and brokenness and healing I’m resonating with in this book, The Healing Path, started off with recollections of experiences past and present dealing with emotional pain. Allender captures it well and seems nearly every other line to put into words what I’ve struggled to feel, understand and express, so I’ll share tidbits of key parts that have spoken to me and helped me process the workings of the Spirit of God within me, where literally as He puts it beautifully, “opening our arms to a day is an act of faith.” Life hasn’t looked any bit of normal for quite sometime and each day brought enough of its own.

Yet isn’t it interesting that in the midst of that, a bout of physical pain also came knocking on my door. And the parallels and intertwining of physical and emotional pain have never been more prevalent. In the last few weeks, I’ve seen how more than ever the intricacies of the human condition. We were created as physical, emotional and spiritual beings, three in one, and while they are distinct, one cannot operate or suffer without affecting another. It has been an interesting journey. Many days I have felt like I was walking blind. Not quite sure of the ground beneath the next step I’m taking. Clinging most days, sometimes barely by a thread, to nail scarred hand that calls my name.

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From Dan Allender’s, The Healing Path

Suffering as a Sacred Journey

"OPENING OUR ARMS TO A DAY IS AN ACT OF FAITH. Even on the days when we feel the most optimistic about the course life is taking, our confidence can be shattered by events beyond our control. A morning that begins with a cheerful whistle can be sideswiped by the droning negativity of a spouse who gets up on the wrong side of the bed. A much-anticipated vacation can be cut short by a broken leg, a stolen wallet, or the death of a loved one back home. A pleasant Sunday morning can be shot to pieces by the cool rebuff of a friend sitting in an adjacent church pew. A single split-second decision can change the course of our lives forever.

I’ll never forget the woman who told me about the morning that changed everything for her. She had put her son in the backseat of the car and buckled his seat belt, got into the front seat, and then realized she had left her purse in the house. She left the keys in the ignition, but did not start the car. She ran back into the house, and as she grabbed her purse, the phone rang. She hesitated but decided to answer it. The call lasted no more than three minutes. When she went back outside she witnessed a horror that would change everything about her life forever.

Apparently seconds after her son was left alone in the car, he escaped from the backseat, climbed to the front seat, started the car, and put it in reverse. When he felt the movement of the car, he panicked and tried to jump out. He must have caught his coat on the car door because he was dragged under the wheels and his skull was crushed. In a matter of seconds, his young life was extinguished, and his mother’s heart was shattered.

Two years after the accident the woman was doing much better, but she still suffered waves of nausea and guilt that threatened to drown her. Her marriage was at grave risk, and she continued to take medication for depression. Her story and the sorrow embedded in her eyes shook me. But one comment in particular unnerved me. “Thank you,” she said, “for letting me know it is not wrong to suffer.” Everyone else wanted her to be ”fine,” she explained. They wanted her to “move on with her life.” She said she used to have similar sentiments toward those who suffered tragic losses; she hadn’t understood the depth of harm with which they wrestled. Now she did. Wistfully she commented, “I simply never thought that tragedy could really, I mean really, come to my door.” "

- Allender, The Healing Path