Monday, November 13, 2017

Through the roof ... Luke 5

"The only thing we have control over is time."
That was the first tip R gave me for dealing with little miss when she goes into a rage.  At first I didn't understand. And then I had the chance to witness him dealing with it.

When she's upset she lashes out. Verbally and physically. We try to give her a safe space to be alone. I pray. A lot.  We don't mind the shouting, the invectives, the name-calling, the utter loathing. We know that's just the trauma talking. She loves us, and that scares her. She also hates us for loving her. She hates us for being there for her. She hates us because we've seen her hurting and wounded.  

Sometimes praying and letting her name-call and shout works. Sometimes leaving her alone to throw a ball against the wall, or squeeze the stuffing out of a beloved toy works.  Sometimes when she can text someone she's not in conflict with it helps. Once in a blue-moon, wrapping herself up in a blanket and falling asleep works.


More often, though, she doesn't actually want to be left alone. Her trauma torments her, and she doesn't know how to shut the door on it. Those times, those awful times, she will escalate her outrage to the point of harming herself or others. Those are the times that we have to hold her down, against her will, to keep her from running into traffic. Those are the times when anything - a landscape brick, a radio, even an ipod - anything she can get her hands on becomes a weapon. Those are the times when she most fears herself - and the times when she can be most fearful toward others.

Time. All we can control in those situations is time. And prayer. Sometimes I even sing, low and soft, Jesus loves me. I don't know if I'm singing it for her- or for me. Just a reminder that there is more than this moment, more to life than rage and fear. Time is all I can offer her. So time I give. 

Being there. Holding her until the rage subsides, and then holding her differently, safely, sweetly, while she comes down. Listening for the real issues, the true pain underlying all the insults. The REAL issue is rarely the one that sets her off. The trigger event is usually just the last straw on our poor overloaded camel. And then, as she comes down, she has to deal with the shame and embarrassment. She remembers what she did - and usually most of what she said. So she hates herself more for being so cruel. She sees our scrapes and bruises and bitemarks, and is reminded that she lost control, again. She feels powerless to change. Powerless over the trauma-demon that torments her.

The poor girl, my heart breaks for her. She's been in weekly therapy her whole life (3x weekly for the last several months). She's on  5 different daily meds for mood management.  As with all meds, they work for a while and then fail. Right now she's in a fail period. So it's time for a change. Which isn't fun either… finding something else that works and balancing the dosage can take weeks, even a month or more. Weeks of riding a physical and emotional roller-coaster. And not the fun kind.

It takes time. Time is really all we have to offer. Time, prayer, hope, the belief that it WILL get better.


One of my favorite Bible stories has always been Luke 5:17-26 - the man from the roof. In this story, Jesus is preaching to a packed house, and some fellows bring their crippled friend to Jesus to be healed. They can't get to the Lord through the crowd, so they go up on the roof and lower their friend in that way. Creative! Determined! Jesus did heal the man, and forgave his sins as well. Over the years, this story has struck a chord with me for different reasons. Today, what I ask you to notice is that the man's friends took him to the Lord. And that the Lord healed both his body and his soul.

Thank  you for giving her time and space to heal. Thank you for coming along side of us in this journey. Thank you for caring and loving and helping.

If you are a believer, please help me bring her up to the rooftop. Pray for my sweet girl. Pray for her sister - who suffers differently from the secondary trauma of being on the sidelines.  Pray for her parents (all of us), that we can keep her safe, that we can keep reaching out to her in the darkness. But mostly pray for healing. Because this kind of healing takes a miracle. Pray that Jesus will heal her heart AND give her that true forgiveness and peace of spirit that only He can provide. 

And always, always, remember she is our sweet beloved girl. She is not her trauma. She is our baby!