A Time to Feel & A Time to Heal

“It’s just emotion that’s taking me over.” The Bee Gees

Have you ever experienced an emotion so strong you lost your appetite? To be honest, it’s rare for me. I generally “eat my feelings”. Upset? Chocolate. Sad? Ice cream. Pissed off? French Fries. I learned from a psychiatrist recently that carbohydrates produce soothing endorphins in the brain which is why people eat when they are having intense emotional responses. This carb-induced physiological process is powerful. Therefore, I know something is very wrong when I’m so upset while trying to eat it immediately comes back up. It’s almost like my body is resisting the need to be comforted.

“O afflicted one, storm-tossed and not comforted…” – Isaiah 54:11

Sometimes an event happens that causes so much pain we resist comfort. Our brains become so overwhelmed that we feel like we are falling into the abyss and all we can do is grope and flail and scream. And when someone reaches out to take hold of us, we bite, claw and grapple.

Years ago, I stepped into an elevator with a co-worker and was startled by her lean frame. She had gone from “pleasantly plump” to “sleek and suave”. I was impressed! I said, “Wow. You’ve lost weight. You look amazing. What’s your secret?”

“My daughter has been in the hospital.” She said.

I said, “Is she going to be okay?”

“She’s not out of the woods yet.”

She fidgeted uncomfortably, obviously eager to escape my prying questions. Meanwhile, I stood there feeling foolish. I never knew anyone who lost weight from emotional trauma.

There is no way to prepare for pain. When the hammer falls, the broken capillaries rupture and a bruise forms. Whether it’s physical or emotion, pain is a “little death.” It is the loss of something important to us. It might be something as simple as our dignity (after embarrassment) or as complex as the loss of a child or parent. It’s important to know our emotions are intricately tied to our physical processes and we therefore don’t always have control over them. Much the same way we can’t control the rhythm of our heart, we can’t regulate the throb of pain as it shakes our psyche.

Why then do we set expectations for grief or pain? We all process it differently. As unique individuals, we are all responding to our environment and the best any of us can do is to feel, process and heal. What may take one person a day, may take another person decades. Therefore, we must show up with compassion and kindness for the journey each of us are on. We shouldn’t compare our journey to that of our neighbor and we shouldn’t criticize or critique the way others respond to a traumatic event.

This played out for me recently when a family member told me my child’s emotional issues were my fault. They told me if I had fixed my own issues, my child wouldn’t be where he is. I questioned this view and was assured that if I were following their prescribed method, my child would level out. This short-sighted opinion turned me upside down. First, I’m on my own journey, and while I’m doing my best to function in a broken, fallen world, I am not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. Even if I were perfect, I can’t control my child’s unique response to his environment. I can’t control the chemicals in his brain any more than I can control the air he breathes or the food that goes into his body. I could saturate him with an environment of perfect love (that never loses a temper and always corrects with positive intent while providing affirmation) and he would still falter. That is because we are imperfect people living in an imperfect world. Why then do we set such unrealistic expectations for each other? He has not learned to temper his emotions. I am trying my best to teach him.

Our culture is entirely too focused on the aesthetic. We celebrate the kid with the graduation robe and the beautiful hair and makeup and the perfect grade, but we give little credence to the child who stumbles with relationships, succumbs to peer pressure, and lies. It’s almost as if we forget they are little humans. It’s almost as if we cast a wary eye on the “bad kids” forgetting the best any of us can do is learn from our mistakes. One is not better than the other; they just are. They are as worthy of love, care, and consideration as the other and shouldn’t be cast out—or worse—maligned. In fact, these are the kids that need MORE love, MORE care, MORE consideration. They are struggling with complex emotions they don’t know how to process and they need our help to teach them how to respond.

I wish carbs fixed all the problems in the world. It would be so much easier. Lose your job? Candy bar. All better. Alas, we are dependent on the love of others to support us when we are struggling. When those support structures collapse, we are left with a life not worth living. So please, don’t desert the people in your life who think differently or respond inappropriately. I know it’s in fashion to put up boundaries and eliminate certain people from our lives—but it’s not always the right thing to do. We do it because it’s easier than staying. Love stays.

When I am struggling with people, I remember God sees me as I am and loves me. He would never leave or forsake me.

I often get frustrated with the people I love when they do things I don’t like or say things that are hurtful. It takes more strength and courage to walk towards someone we disagree with and say, “I’m not leaving.” This is hard when emotions are swelling like the tide. But if I am loved by a God who “will never leave me or forsake me,” doesn’t that give me the confidence to do the same?

I haven’t been very strong lately. One could say I’m stumbling and scraping my knees a lot. After all, I am only human. But I am learning that real love perseveres. It transcends emotion. It fights for the good and sees the beautiful heart beneath the muddy façade.

I often don’t want to overcome my emotions. I want to give in to them and flail and thrash. Today, I choose to embrace them. By God’s grace, I will feel and I will heal. I hope my dear reader will try to do the same.