The Deepest Layer

Healing is a process. A long one. A lifelong one. And lately, I've remembered that truth more than ever. Rather than thinking of healing as a destination, I have had to shift my thinking to considering it a rhythm. Healing for some of us involves overcoming trauma, mental health disorders, and our sin natures. It's easy to see how hard and long the process can be when we consider that it can involve each of these three things. But while absolute healing cannot occur this side of Heaven, and while it is a life-long process, I have been thinking something this past week that really has encouraged my heart tremendously.

A few years ago, I was in the throws of a panic disorder that nearly killed me. If I had not gone on a medication to help me, I don't think I would be here today. And right after that process, I prayed a prayer, "Lord, please give me a break from the sanctification process. I don't think I can handle any more right now. I just need to rest." And God in His goodness provided me a rest from the more intense aspects of this life. He created a gentle calm in my spirit to still the anxiety and give me some relief so that I could be restored to both mental and physical health. It was what we would often refer to in our modern world as "self-care."I spent a lot of time enjoying the simple things of life, sometimes taking bubble baths, or walks, or eating chocolate - all the things that help us to remember that we are worth loving and being cared for.

But I couldn't stay there. So, a year and a half ago, I asked God to begin upping the sanctification process; and He did not disappoint. Within weeks of me praying that I was ready to get back into the fight, He allowed me to be fired from a job that I had built my identity around. Being fired was particularly difficult because it was based on a false accusation. And in the midst of this situation, He allowed me to understand that something below the surface was wrong with my heart. Maybe I wasn't fired from this job for the reason for which I was accused, but my boss had identified that something was wrong. God was about to unearth some ugliness in my heart that I had been pretending didn't exist for a while.

For the last year and a half, I have been struggling through the layers of healing from trauma, coming to terms with my mental health diagnosis, and realizing the depth of my sin nature and how it can get in the way of healing.

I worked through traumatic experiences and set boundaries, I found peace as I saw God is the father I could never have here on this earth, I experienced forgiveness and unconditional love as I became honest about the ugliest parts of my heart with trusted mentors, and I learned how deeply my worth is set in Jesus Christ. I am no better or worse than anyone else in my value because God decided that my value was expressed through the priceless blood of Jesus. It is the same for everyone who is found in Christ. There is no one worth more than another. We are all equally in need of Christ and His grace. So both pride and shame were irradicated from my life, and I fought to not care what anyone else thought of me.

But there was still a deeper layer yet.

Something so deeply ingrained in my heart that I eventually traced it back to being five years old and sitting on a swing outside our trailer. It is the most sacred space of healing that my heart needed to do.

And slowly, God has started in on this deepest layer, and I am afraid. I am afraid that I won't be able to let it go. That I won't cooperate. That something will get in the way. The stakes are high. All the therapy has not solved this. I've done cognitive behavioral therapy, dialectical behavioral therapy, and EMDR. None of those things has solved this. This is the core belief behind it all, and there is only One who can solve it.

I almost went to another therapist. She works with individuals who have borderline personality disorder. She would have been an incredible resource. I prayed about it, and at first, I wavered. But at last, I felt strongly that the answer was "no." I was not to pursue another therapist at this time.

I needed Jesus. The only thing that is going to heal this deepest layer of my being is

God, Himself.

There is no scientific explanation for this deepest layer of healing.

As I've begun to explore this deeper layer, a million moments of isolation, tears cried, and solitary nights have flashed before my eyes, and I have believed that God was not good because He was not there.

So, I have started to look for Him. Where is He? And slowly the curtain is drawn back, and I see Him. In each moment of pain. In each tear cried. He was the answer. He IS the answer. He was with me when I recounted in EMDR therapy my abuse. I could feel Him in the room with me experiencing the abuse and taking it on Himself. And I can see it now.

I have never been abandoned by Him.

I was trying to put into words toward one of my best friends how afraid and excited I am that I am entering this deepest layer of healing, and she said that what I was describing reminded her of the Voyage of the Dawn Treader by C. S. Lewis.

Eustace was a particularly sinful little boy in the story. He turned into a dragon and couldn't become human again. So, Aslan, the great lion that represents Christ, came along and told him to strip his skin. Eustace scratches at his skin and it starts to molt, the layers falling off. It hurts badly and he tears it apart, trying to reveal the new boy within. But it doesn't work. Layer after layer he peels back, only to discover another one. Then the lion comes along and uses his tallon-like claws to dig deeper than any other layer before. Eustace can't believe how much it hurts. It hurts worse than all the other layers. And yet, it feels good too. Only when Aslan cut deep and made it hurt worse than Eustace ever could, did the layers come off revealing the new life of freedom.

I feel exactly that. That all the therapy in the world can only peel off one layer after another after another. But now, I need God Himself to step in and do a miracle.

And He is. I can feel it. And I am staying right here. I am not moving. My eyes are firmly fixed on Him. I have no backup plan. I stake my claim on Christ. And Christ alone.

I can see Him. I can see Him when I was crying on my bed at 12. I can see Him when I was being abused. When I was locked out of my dorm on a cold rainy day at college and knew no one. When I was driving home from Buffalo and knew I would never see my dad again. When I was sitting on a hill last fall defying God, and He said He still loves me.

He's always been the answer to the deepest plea of my heart.

And maybe He's the answer to the question that you've been asking all these years too.

"Whom have I in heaven but You? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides You. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." Psalm 73:25-26