Tag Archives: Emotional and spiritual healing

What to do with Sadness ~ Maundy Thursday and Good Friday

28 Thursday Mar 2013

Posted by in confessing our need, emotional needs, God's healing love, the healing journey

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William Blake's Holy Thursday (1794)

William Blake’s Holy Thursday (1794)

“Holy Week” (the week before Easter when we remember the last, painful days of Jesus’ life) was not a term I grew up hearing a lot. In our family and church we celebrated the joy of Palm Sunday and the victory of Easter Sunday. But we didn’t have Maundy Thursday or Good Friday services. We often sang, “I serve a risen savior, He’s in the world today” and I’m thankful for that heritage. Yes, the cross was sung about and preached about as well. My preacher dad would call people to repentance and faith based on Jesus’ finished work on the cross. And all during the year we sang rousing hymns and gospel songs about the power of the cross and the blood. But Easter week was altogether a joyous experience of colored eggs, new dresses, choir songs, and the biggest church attendance of the year!

Mother directed the choir’s Easter Cantata that always had a song or two about the sadness and suffering leading up to Easter. But we didn’t dwell there long. At the same time, in our personal lives I think we didn’t really know what to do with the emotion of sadness. In those inexplicable moments when a weight of sadness came over you and threatened to smother you, what did you do? You smothered it back! Maybe you had “a good cry” in private then put on a brave face and smiled for the family, the world, and the church. That’s what I saw my mother do.

I’m thankful for the legacy she gave me of loving God, loving people, choosing to be an over-comer. And truly, “the joy of the Lord is our strength.” And that joy is a fountain that wells up from deep inside as a result of the presence and work of Christ in us through his Holy Spirit. But I have learned by experience—and from the saints of old—that that joy is greater and purer and fresher when we allow periodic remembrance and identification with the sadness and suffering of Passion Week. The very word “passion” means “suffering.” Over a decade ago Mel Gibson’s movie, The Passion of the Christ, brought this truth to the fore. In the past twenty years liturgy and observance of the church calendar have come back into many churches, and I find this enriches my Christian faith and experience. For instance, observing Maundy Thursday and Good Friday helps me know what to do with times of sadness.

Holy Week reminds me that Jesus was “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3). In the Garden of Gethsemane he said, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death” (Matthew 26:38). He experienced sadness and sorrow to the depths, for me.

Whatever the source of my sadness …

  • sorrow for my sins and the suffering they caused my Lord.
  • waves of grief and sadness over personal losses, such as losing my mother at a young age.
  • sadness in the face of the cruelties, tragedies, and injustices I see people oppressed by.

… during Holy Week I am reminded of what to do with this “weight of sorrow,” these tears: bring them to Jesus …

  • See him kneeling in the garden, overwhelmed with sorrow, in anguished prayer and sweating drops of blood.
  • See him enduring the cruelest injustice, ridicule, and inflicted pain.
  • See him hanging on the cross agonizing, bleeding, and dying, because of my sins.

I can allow my occasional sadness to help me identify with Jesus, the man of sorrows. Then, when the resurrected Lord wipes those tears from my eyes, what JOY!

It’s Not too Late to Forgive

21 Thursday Mar 2013

Posted by in confessing our need, leaving a legacy, letting go of anger, reconciliation, the healing journey

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Ardis and her dad

Ardis with her dad soon before his death

Like a scab ripped from the skin, my wound was exposed again. Why would I deliberately enter into that wound again? How could I think that it was really healed? A recent post, “I Forgive You,” by Catherine Lawton was the catalyst that prompted me to take another look. That, and the fact that I spent Holy Week last year caring for my 93-year-old father, sent my mind back to the months preceding his death.

Catherine’s post reminded me of how the words and actions of forgiveness were not something that was modeled to me when I was growing up. Tears weren’t allowed either. We were taught to ‘buck it up’ and move on. Reading that post took me back to the letter I had written my father a year before he died. My grief at that time was still fresh from my mother’s passing, and my healing was making me bold in things of the heart. After reading Catherine’s post I pulled out that year-old letter.

Re-reading the letter to my father brought the pain of the wound to the surface. Tears overcame me as I read the words I had penned to him about my inner healing. I knew he had worried about me in the past, concerned that I would develop mental illness like my mother. He had told me that he was ‘watching me’ for signs. So I wrote the letter to reassure him that I was okay.

I’ll share a part of the letter to hopefully inspire others to forgive their parents. I sent this letter with no expectations from him in return. I just wrote what I felt the Lord laid on my heart to tell him:

“I won’t know all God’s purposes until I am in Heaven, too. But here on this earth and in this time, I have received incredible healing and much peace…. That is what I want for you, Dad. I thought it was important for you to know that Mom forgave you [before she died]. I want you to know that I forgive you also. I know you did the best you could under the circumstances. Even if you do have regrets about any of these family things, I know that, as a Smith,* it would be incredibly difficult for you to admit it. We Smiths always think we are so right. I guess if I had one regret in my upbringing it would be that I didn’t learn how to forgive others and to say “I’m sorry.” Those words would’ve helped me let go of so much of my anger and resentments years ago…

“…It’s not too late for you, Dad. You can do this. You can release all your ‘rightness’ and no-regrets thinking to the Lord. You can leave this family with a legacy of forgiveness. I hope and pray the Lord will bless you and keep you in His love for all your remaining days.

“I love you.

“Ardis”

My father never mentioned this letter to me or anything that was in it, but my stepmother told me he read and re-read it many times. I believe it sank into his heart, bridged the distance between us, and eventually gave him the ability to go in peace. Risking his rejection and ridicule by expressing my heart was worth it.

How about you? Is there someone to whom you need to say “I forgive you” while there is still time?

~ Ardis A. Nelson

*Surname changed to protect family privacy.

A Letter to my Mom

01 Friday Mar 2013

Posted by in God's healing love, Learning to appreciate Mom, leaving a legacy, mother wounds, show love by serving

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Ardis and her mother in the hospital

Ardis with her mother on the first trip she describes in her story, “Walking my Mother Home” in Journeys to Mother Love

Reading each of the stories in “Journeys to Mother Love” gave me a glimpse into the lives and pain of eight other women who have allowed Christ to bring healing into their hearts. I love reading stories like these because they impart hope and inspiration that each of us can connect with or apply to our lives.

One of my takeaways was from the story written by Verna Hills Simms, “Take Care of Your Mother.” I was touched by how she writes a letter to her deceased mother every year on her mother’s birthday. I thought it was a wonderful idea, and decided to do the same thing. With the anniversary of my mother’s passing a few weeks ago, I chose to do it in honor of that occasion.

Dear Mom,

It has been two years since the day the Lord took you home to be with Him. I still marvel how God perfectly orchestrated the events leading up to your death and the identity revelations He gave me as a result. I know you have been watching all of these things from above. I sense your overwhelming joy at how I have embraced the parts of me that mirror your personality and faith in the Lord.

After you passed away, it was hard for me to adapt and internalize all of the changes. I look back now and can hardly recognize the person I was before. Rosa and Pedro are a regular part of my life now. It is like I have found a long lost sister, and adopted Pedro as a son. I will finally meet Rosa face to face in Spain this summer. I know you will be there with me in spirit too.

I know you are at peace where you are. I delight in the thought that Carmen, Rosa’s mother, was waiting with open arms to meet you there as well. Your family expanded in heaven the day you died as mine did here on earth with Rosa and Pedro.

Mom, I know the months, weeks and days that passed after your stroke must’ve seemed like an eternity to you, not being able to speak, to feed yourself and needing total care just for routine bodily functions. I wish I could’ve helped more and been by your side more than just those few visits. I wanted you to know that those visits were so special to me—to be able to dote on you and help care for you like you did for me over fifty years ago when I was young. I know you loved me and did all you could for me.

Your suffering was for a purpose as it gave me an opportunity to see myself as God sees me and eliminated my fears related to your mental illness. That was not the legacy the Lord destined for you to hand down to me. I am mentally healthy now. And the Lord has helped me to embrace your sensitivity and faith as the legacies I want to impart to others.

Thank you, Mom, for your sacrifices and your final gift of unconditional love.  I look forward to the day we are reunited in eternity. 

Love,
Ardis

~ Ardis Nelson

A Friendship Born in Sorrow

06 Wednesday Feb 2013

Posted by in encouraging each other, God's healing love, importance of prayer, reach out and touch, show love by serving, the healing journey

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RosaRosa

As mentioned in my story, “Walking My Mother Home,” during the time I was walking through healing in my relationship with my mother I developed a long-distance friendship with Rosa, who lives in Spain. Rosa’s mother, Carmen, passed away a few weeks before my mother. The connection with Rosa led me, a Protestant, to a Catholic Church to pray on bended knee and release my mother to the Lord. It was at this exact time that Carmen’s funeral was proceeding in Spain.

Rosa’s and my relationship was born out of sorrow, nurtured by prayer, and sealed in love. It was perfectly timed to help me heal the void and loss in my heart caused by never really knowing my mother as a person and not being able to have a relationship with her. Her death brought out a lot of feelings and the Lord has been faithful to heal and give me a fresh start.

Rosa, though, was close to her mother. Two years later, Rosa is still grieving the loss of her mother, Carmen, who was a significant part of Rosa’s life. Carmen was the family matriarch, surrounded by a large Catholic family that loved her. The loss was great not only for Rosa, but for Rosa’s father and the rest of the family as well. While my burden is light, Rosa’s is still heavy at times as she alternates live-in care giving with her sister for their aging father. One way or another, life goes on for both of us.

My relationship with Rosa has become a beautiful testimony to the legacy of mother love and of the Lord’s love for us. Our lives intersected in a painful and poignant way. When I first heard of her mother’s terminal illness, I knew God wanted me to come alongside Rosa in her grief. It was not easy to be so vulnerable with her—someone I never met, who lived 5,300 miles away, spoke a different language and belonged to the faith (my mother’s faith) that I had turned my back on many years ago. I feared rejection. Yet God called me out of my comfort zone to extend a heart of compassion to her. And I’m glad I did!

~ Ardis A. Nelson

Facing Demons from the Past

04 Monday Feb 2013

Posted by in emotional needs, God's healing love, the healing journey

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Upper tangent arc crossed by contrail shadow

These women have faced demons from the past and challenges of the present by opening themselves to God’s grace…

This comment came from Shirley Brosius, author and speaker with Friends of the Heart ministry, after she read Journeys to Mother Love.

You can read the rest of Shirley’s review on her blog: http://www.shirleybrosius.blogspot.com/2013/02/book-review-journeys-to-mother-love.html

I appreciate Shirley’s words. Yes, “demons from our past” can haunt us, hinder us, hobble us. And like a shadow in the dark the memories and trauma of those demons of the past can appear larger than life and still have more power over us than we can understand.

I remember thinking when I was in my thirties, “How could I still be thinking every day about this thing that happened to me when I was four years old? Why does it have such power over me even now; why do I still feel the fear, the shame?”

The power those demons from the past had over me—and others who share their stories in Journeys to Mother Love—is gone now. And Shirley is right about that too. Freedom came when we opened ourselves to God’s healing grace.

~ Catherine Lawton

Birthday Thankfulness

24 Saturday Nov 2012

Posted by in childhood memories, Gratitude, leaving a legacy, the healing journey

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Thursday was my 53rd birthday, the 8th time in my life that my birthday fell on Thanksgiving. I deliberately carved out (pun intended) a little ‘me’ time to write this post after pondering my birthdays of yesteryear and the day I was born.

I know that my mother was not awake when she gave birth to me. Back then, doctors administered a combination of pain and amnesia medications which would render a woman unconscious during childbirth. My father waited expectantly in the waiting room, probably with other fathers, for word of my birth.

In those days, there were no ultrasounds to ‘preview’ the child’s gender. “It’s a girl!” were likely the first words I heard as I entered the world.

I was named after my father’s sister, who eventually became my godmother. I wasn’t very close to Aunt Ardis. She always lived hundreds or even thousands of miles away throughout my life. She couldn’t have kids of her own, but she was honored to have a niece named after her.

Aunt Ardis died many years ago. Sadly, I was not able to attend her funeral. When her husband, Uncle Edgar, died six years ago, the executor of the estate gave me the opportunity to take some personal belongings for a keepsake. I took the small amount of inheritance I received and flew to their home in Wisconsin to explore the estate. I returned home with a beautiful set of china and some silver pieces that grace my dining room table every holiday.

More than that though was the treasure trove of cards, letters and keepsakes overlooked by other family members who arrived before me. That night in the solitude of my hotel room, I scoured through the pile and was blessed beyond belief as I read letters from my mother to Aunt Ardis, filling her in on my childhood and sending her my school photos. My aunt had every letter and Christmas card I sent her as an adult as well.

I also read through the condolence cards sent to my uncle when she passed away. I really got a feel for who she was, even though I didn’t know her well when she was alive. Being in her home and going through her belongings also gave me a glimpse into myself. Best of all was finding the original birth announcement my parents sent to her decades before. She kept all of my mementos—and in the process, left me a legacy of love!

That trip was a precious gift to me from above. It gave me more wholeness and helped to fill in the gaps of my earthly identity. It is the gifts like this, the ones that touch my heart, that mean the most to me. This Thanksgiving birthday was celebrated with gratitude for the One who has transformed my heart in so many ways over the last few years.  He has redeemed the years that the locusts have eaten (Joel 2:25).

Thank you, Mom, for giving me life. Thank you for investing in me. Healing and wholeness are true gifts to be celebrated on Thanksgiving and everyday.

~ Ardis A. Nelson

Mother Wounds

07 Wednesday Nov 2012

Posted by in confessing our need, emotional needs, encouraging each other, forgiving mom, generational patterns, mother wounds, the healing journey

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My mother wounds ran deep—too deep to ever look at until God nudged me back to my elderly mother’s side after her debilitating stroke. Before that first trip back home in November 2009, I had written my mother off. Her schizophrenia made her unavailable to me emotionally, although I didn’t label it as that until I started to look at my own emotional deficits and participated in deep healing classes.

But I couldn’t blame her. It wasn’t her fault. I was only six years old when she had her nervous breakdown. I didn’t realize how much nurturing I wasn’t getting from her. But I knew I didn’t want to be like her in any way, shape or form. The further the distance I could put between us, the less likely I would be reminded I was her daughter. And the easier it was for me to hide from the stigma of her mental illness and the possibility that I could end up like her.

It was with that “history” that I walked into a healing class several years ago based on the book The Mom Factor by bestselling Christian psychologists Drs. Henry Cloud and John Townsend. These authors identified six common types of mothers: the Phantom Mom, the China Doll Mom, the Controlling Mom, the Trophy Mom, the Still-the-Boss Mom and the American Express Mom. In the class we looked at the characteristics of each of these and identified the result of that type of mothering. I found this process very difficult emotionally. (I had the Phantom Mom.)

I shed many a tear as I started to understand and to grieve what I didn’t get from my mother. I learned how to get my unmet needs met in healthy ways. (The Mom Factor also includes healing steps for the adult children of each mothering type.) I found out it wasn’t too late to get the mothering I hadn’t received. I could be “re-mothered” through the women that God was putting on my path.

Our final class assignment was to write a letter to our mothers about the mothering we received. Although I experienced a lot of healing of my mother wound in this class, I couldn’t do the assignment—at least not according to the instructions. Instead of writing a letter to my mother, I chose to write a letter to my son who was turning 13 at the time. It was a letter admitting my own mothering deficiencies, labeling the type of mother I was, vowing to break the generational curse and, with God’s help, to change my mothering patterns. It was a step in forgiving myself.

One by one the women openly shared their letters to their mothers and then ceremoniously burned them. I waited until last to share my letter—nervous that I would be judged for not doing it right. I openly wept as I read it. There was no judgment or criticism from these other women. We were all on the same journey to wholeness, where grace abounds.

Although I had to wait for God’s timing for the bigger healing of my mother wound as outlined in the story “Walking My Mother Home” (in Journeys to Mother Love), identifying the type of mothering I received was a positive step in the right direction. I know my children are better off for my having done so.

~ Ardis A. Nelson

Emotional Captivity

26 Friday Oct 2012

Posted by in confessing our need, emotional needs, healing after abortion, the healing journey

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Red-tail hawks soaring

(Photo: C. Lawton)

Is anything holding you captive? Do you long to be emotionally and spiritually free?

Red-tail hawk soaring

(Photo: C. Lawton)

After 10 years of avoiding the truth about my abortion, even hiding it from myself, I finally faced my own emotional captivity. At some level, I knew that my journey must begin with God, by seeking his forgiveness. Little did I know that my greatest challenge would be forgiving myself. Yet Isaiah 54 has been true in my own life. I have seen God move me from captivity to freedom. He healed my mother heart and freed me from the chains of guilt and shame. What should have kept me down forever, God has turned and now uses to help set others free.

Captivity, both physical and emotional, is a recurring theme in the Bible. One of the best examples of is Isaiah 54. This chapter, written to the Israelites, predicts their return to favor and release from captivity in Babylon. But because of the rich, multi-layered nature of God’s Word, this chapter also applies to anyone finding herself in a prison of emotional and spiritual captivity.

During times of barrenness of spirit, Isaiah 54 addresses the “destitute” with the promise that even when God seems distant, he vows to “return in mercy.” And though we face seasons of life that seem blanketed by sorrow, God’s promise is to move us forward into seasons of peace and restoration, should we choose to walk with him out of captivity and into freedom. The chapter ends with the triumphant promise that Satan, the one who seeks to steal, kill and destroy all that God has established, will be “baffled” and we will emerge victorious.

These verses from Isaiah 54 (NIV) are especially meaningful to me:

‘Sing, barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband,’ says the Lord.

‘Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes. For you will spread out to the right and to the left; your descendants will dispossess nations and settle in their desolate cities.

‘Do not be afraid; you will not be put to shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated. You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood. For your Maker is your husband—the Lord Almighty is his name—the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; he is called the God of all the earth.

”The Lord will call you back as if you were a wife deserted and distressed in spirit—a wife who married young, only to be rejected,’ says your God. ‘For a brief moment I abandoned you, but with deep compassion I will bring you back. In a surge of anger I hid my face from you for a moment, but with everlasting kindness I will have compassion on you,’ says the Lord your Redeemer….

‘Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,’ says the Lord, who has compassion on you….

Have you experienced this love and freedom?

~ Kyleen Stevenson-Braxton

God Works All Things Together For Good

12 Wednesday Sep 2012

Posted by in emotional needs, encouraging each other, God's healing love, the healing journey

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I was blessed the other night to see Mandisa, a Dove Award winning Christian singer, in concert at my church. As she shared her testimony about being sexually abused as a child and using food to fill the emptiness that heartache created, I was struck at how often an unresolved hurt can lead to so many other consequences in our lives. She shared that she wanted to be overweight because it caused her to get less attention from men and that felt safe. In the last few years, God has done a healing work in Mandisa to the point she has shed 100 lbs. and now can share openly at her concerts about how God is healing her from this hurt she has carried since she was five years old.

And yet, this very same hurt is what the singer/song writer uses to write such tender, poignant songs about pain. Her songs connect because they ring true. She has a gift to express how pain makes us feel, as well as to celebrate the freedom found when Christ begins to heal those hurts and the pain subsides.

So here again is another example of how God’s promise, to work all things together for good, is a promise we can count on (Romans 8:28). Mandisa’s gift comes out of her pain and God is using her every time she shares her testimony so openly. My prayer is that He would do the same with my testimony and willingness to share such a difficult thing in my own life. She encouraged me last night because, although our heartaches came from different sources and mine was my own doing, I saw so clearly how God was using her pain for good, to remind others that nothing is impossible with God (Luke 1:37).

~ Kyleen Stevenson-Braxton