4 trauma lessons

In no particular order here are 4 random learning lessons trauma is teaching me so far (I've learned more than 4 but these are the ones that stand out today).

 1. Trauma has produced an awarenesses of unresolved past grief and the need to forgive and internally resolve before I can move forward.

It's interesting how when a life changing traumatic event happens the ripple effect from the event goes both backwards and forward.  The processing of stressful emotions reveal what is unresolved from the past while also setting the framework for processing going forward.  The inadequate emotional tools we have preceding the event are the same ones we have after the life altering event.  Many times, the inadequate tools (that may have worked a fraction of what they should prior) prove completely worthless for what we need to healthily process and heal from the current traumatic event.  Left unattended, the skillset will prove to allow additional heartache and loss to occur on sheer inadequate processing principle.  I have found that a good trauma therapist is very helpful to navigate getting these tools.  My therapist is skilled in EMDR, which I find helpful.  She is also skilled in going back to childhood and emotionally healing forward to make sure complete understanding and a well rounded emotional skillset (proper tools) is gained. 

2. Trauma has shown me that my own and/or others expectations of how I should walk forward or handle the trauma can be very unrealistic and unfair.

It makes my heart sad to even type the next sentence because of the awareness I have now.  I can think of multiple times I have come alongside someone in their trauma and had my own agenda in mind.  I've mentally (even subconsciously) put them on a timeframe for benchmarks they should be accomplishing because that is what seemed healthy (to me) and the "Christian" way they should be doing it.  It was both self serving and arrogant of me and incredibly naive.  Looking at the root of my reason for why I did this, it stemmed from wanting to be back into my comfort zone as quickly as possibly (self serving).  Whether it was an idealistic view of how I thought a Christian should handle trauma or that I was uncomfortable having to embrace empathy and sorrow for where they were at, or multiple other reasons.  Empathy and sorrow for another takes laying aside our own desires or demands and taking up a quiet humility and soft spirit- a dying to self and a picking up the cross of Jesus.

As the crushing blow of trauma came for me, it was the precious ones who could sit with me where I was at (and even to this day where I am at), not personalizing my diagnosis to themselves or trying to push me up to a place where they were willing to meet me, that are the deepest ministry.  I feel like Jesus, in me, has been my deepest comfort with He then using a few others to come along side tangibly.  It is a deep desire of my heart to be one of those few, in others lives.  A sacrifice with no real earthly fanfare but the heavenly reward worth its weight in gold.

3. Trauma has challenged my belief system- the realistic has stayed but the idealistic or unrealistic is quickly being stripped away.

Trauma has challenged me to a deeper faith.  It has stripped me of any sort of health security I knew and replaced it with the reality that at any given time, my cancer can come back.  The daily medications, testing, blood work, bilateral mastectomy, and left axillary lymph node dissection, etc. are a decent protection for as long as the cancer does not mutate or wake up from dormancy but it's not a guarantee. There is the chance all the cancer is gone but only a chance (with the percentage shrinking with each lymph node that was positive).  It would be idealist and unrealistic for me to live my life acting like my struggle is done.  The realistic approach for me is to cling to the guarantee I do have, Jesus.  On my fearful days, I wrap my heart up with Psalm 139, especially vs. 16, "all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." None of us will live a day longer or shorter than what Jesus has called for us to do.  No disease, diagnosis, or situation will change that- no matter what it is.  The full surrender to this is both deeply comforting and completely heart wrenching- what if the time Jesus has for me is different then the time I would like.  The harsh reality is that we are not spared agonizing times here on earth.  God is always good and life is deeply hard. Do I trust Jesus to the point that I can rest in His sovereignty?  It's a work in progress....  

4. Trauma is teaching me so much about thankfulness

It's deeply hard to admit because I would like to feel like my diagnosis is more in the rear view mirror than what it is but the reality is, I wake up most every day with the same thought, 'I have today- thank you Jesus and please let me make the most of it...and please Jesus, just one more day- and then another- and then another'  I don't take for granted that today is offered. There is not a day that goes by that I don't mentally calculate the gift that the day is- even on the days where my medication is kicking me to the curb and I have no energy or the days where my bones ache more than what I would ever admit (medication and not having estrogen).  It might sound like some sort of gag-me, do-gooder, 'thankful' over achiever but the reality is, while none of us have the promise of tomorrow, not all of us have to stare the reality in the face everyday.  For those of us that do, perspective is incredibly important.  My heart goes out to anyone walking these shoes, even typing the paragraph above brought me to tears.  Life's a tough gig, a tough tough gig, but I'm so thankful for it (and for my Jesus).