Our minds are fragile. That's a scary reality. And since every good gift comes from the Lord, we never know if our minds can break. Having a whole mind, an unshattered mind, is entirely God's gift. That lack of control is too terrifying for most of us to admit.
I think about World War I a lot. So many men, who may have been physically whole in every other sense, came home with shattered minds. Wives thought their husbands had returned home safe to them. But though their husbands had physically returned, they were lost to mind crushing trauma. Some men, seeing the same horrors, came home able to function in normal life, relatively unscathed in mind. But those first men mentioned, they were completely and utterly broken. Night terrors. Chronic vigilance. Paralyzing fears. Broken. Some were never to be healed in this lifetime.
Studies on this phenomenon commenced. But a hundred years later, there's still so much mystery around trauma and PTSD, still so much to learn. Why some, and why not others? What about next time - who would be impacted most devastatingly in the next traumatic event?
I haven't witnessed the atrocities of war. So I never imagined such things could happen to my own mind. My traumas seem insignificant compared to the sights and sounds of trench warfare.
But God allowed my mind to bend and break. He allowed me to endure torment upon torment.
My experience of torment:
For me, torment is the vivid reliving of events. My body is transported back to another moment in time. A horrifying moment in time. A smelling those smells again. Seeing the minute expression on a person's face. Hearing the tone of a voice. The sense of loss or grief or terror is as strong as it was in the first event. I can hear the muted voices and shuffling feet of those at the hospital. I can see the waiting room, and remember the utter destitution and loneliness. Or I can hear the crack of the door as it flies open, and I am accosted. I can feel the water as I obediently wash my hands. So many events. So much to haunt me.
My body and mind are involved in this experience. All my senses are engaged in the horror. And I am helpless to keep these memories from me. They attack. Trust me, I do everything in my power to forget! But the memories refuse to dissipate. Time refuses to heal. They attack! At any time in the day or night! Sometimes, deep in comfortable slumber, I am jarred awake by vivid memories flooding my mind. I lay there, in sheer terror, pleading for those remembrances to pass. Previous points in my life are the nightmare. The nightmare I can never escape.
These torments have grown so large in my body and mind, that now, small injuries seem like death and murder. I know they are not. But my body cannot translate reality in a realistic way. Everything feels like attack. I live in constant defence mode. Enemies seem to be everywhere, all at once. I am besieged.
These verses from the Psalms give expression to how these torments feel:
"How long will all of you attack a man to batter him,
like a leaning wall, a tottering fence?
They only plan to thrust him down from his high position.
They take pleasure in falsehood.
They bless with their mouths,
but inwardly they curse." (Psalm 62:3-4)
"For behold, they lie in wait for my life;
fierce men stir up strife against me.
For no transgression or sin of min, O Lord,
for no fault of mine, they run and make ready." (Psalm 59:3-4)
"My heart is in anguish within me;
the terrors of death have fallen upon me.
Fear and trembling come upon me,
and horror overwhelms me.
And I say, 'Oh, that I had wings like a dove!
I would fly away and be at rest;
yes, I would wander far away;
I would lodge in the wilderness;
I would hurry to find a shelter
from the raging wind and tempest." (Psalm 55:4-8)
"But I am a worm and not a man,
scorned by mankind and despised by the people.
All who see me mock me;
they make mouths at me; they wag their heads." (Psalm 22:6-7)
Remembrance:
It's Remembrance Day tomorrow. And I thank God for those men who sacrificed their lives, or bodies, or minds to protect their nations. I even thank God that I have tasted just a little of their torments that they suffered for me. I know what I have suffered is incomparable. I remember. My torments help me to never forget. "In Flanders fields the poppies blow, between crosses row on row." Lest we forget.
And most importantly, I thank God for Jesus Christ, and for the war that He entered into on our behalf. The war against sin and death.
"Surely he has borne our griefs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken,
smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisment that brought us peace,
and with his wounds we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned-everyone-to his own way;
and the Lord has laid on him
the iniquity of us all." (Isaiah 53:4-6)
I thank God that He has allowed me to experience just a small taste of the suffering that Christ endured for me. I pray that I will be enabled to suffer with Christ in order that I may be glorified with Christ (Rom 8:17). I pray that all of us will "consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us" (Rom 8:18).
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