Reclaim

Warning:  I am about to be fully transparent and vulnerable.  I pray you can hold this entry with grace and tenderness.  And now for a sweet definition:  Reclaim.  To reclaim is to retrieve or recover something previously lost….to redeem someone from a state of vice into a state of reform….to bring waste land into a state of cultivation.  Okay, the groundwork is laid. 

Have you known a person, or been a person who has suffered an intense trauma?  Have you experienced the launch into horror, which can forever hit the replay button in your mind?  Have you ever been in a store, or a car, or anywhere really, when suddenly your entire being is transported (by the inner workings of your mind) into the middle of the trauma?  Suddenly the smells of the grocery store aisle have been replaced by the smells of burning metal.  Instead of the gum you were just chewing, your mouth is filled with the taste of blood that you swallowed when it flowed from your lips after impact.  You no longer hear the laughter of the children playing nearby, rather you hear the sounds of your children's terror as their world exploded.  Your vision is not filled with green fields along a highway, it is filled with the mutilation of flesh.  The breath in your nostrils is stolen and instead you cannot take a breath and rather feel suffocation.  And while part of you knows you are still in the store, or playground, or wherever, the other part is certain that you never really left that original nightmare.  And if you haven’t experienced this, let me assure you it is every bit as sickening as the first time it occurred.  Just to be fully clear, it is absolutely NOT merely a memory of some event.  It is the physical/emotional/sensory reliving of that moment.  So many of us who have experienced these flashbacks try to avoid anything that can trigger us to relive our darkest moments.  And others can never really figure out what triggers the experience, and begin to feel most safe away from all people; because at least alone they can lose their minds, or freeze in terror, without witnesses to what they are sure is insane, weak and pitiful.

Through God’s beautiful mercy I have only ever briefly wanted to withdrawal from my beloved family and friends.  But I have had months of pleading with God to please deliver me from flashbacks.  I can gratefully say that in the last 10 months I have only had one flashback (which had only a mini sting compared to it’s previous replay events.)  My hyperawareness has calmed down, fearful anticipation has finally rested and my muscles feel relaxed.  I am not routinely bracing for the next dipping of my heart into ice cold water….which is how I felt when my mind would betray me.  Frozen.  Paralyzed.  Screaming with no sound.  Just ice.  But in honesty, there are some things that I have completely avoided since March 31, almost two years ago.  This weekend, in gentle loving kindness, surrounded by women who love deeply, God allowed me to face a memory, a sound, that I was certain would launch me into oblivion.

“Were you and Naomi listening to music that night before the wreck?,” asked a sweet voice.  Ohhhhh.  Here we go, let’s get right down into the one last thing I have refused to face because of fear.  “Yes.  We were listening to the new Kari Jobe CD.  And I have not listened to her since.  Her voice makes me tremble, and I don’t want to hear those moments before the world exploded.”  “Let’s listen right now.  No more fear.”  Well, I couldn’t remember what song we had listened to right before. Honestly I have chosen not to.  All I could clearly remember was that we were singing about Heaven along with Kari Jobe….and then everything changed.  Sweet, lovely, resourceful girls in my midst chimed in, “we have all her music…let’s find it.”   And before I go on I want to be EXTREMELY clear.  If you suffer from PTSD, I am not encouraging that you intentionally walk into a very real trigger.  But for me, for last night, covered in prayer, and surrounded by women who love us, love me, I felt freedom to face this one straggling fear in my heart.

So those sweet ladies, started the first song they knew from that CD which made them think about Heaven.  And a few stanza’s in, it was clear that just before (and as) we were being hit these words were lingering in our hearts.  “Boldly, now will I come before Your throne Holy One.  By Your thunderous grace, Spirit flood, come flood this place.  Oh let it rain.  Let Your glory fall, overwhelm my soul.  Let your presence flood my life, O Lord.”  (“Let Your Glory Fall by Kari Jobe)    I’ve been afraid of hearing those words?  Folks, the Stewart family lived because God did just that.  His glory filled our car and wrapped around us.  He miraculously saved us for more life, and we are here today because His presence flooded those moments of nightmares.  A chain literally fell away from my heart.  A memory that has stood the darkest corner of my mind terrifying me like a giant monster in the closet was just RECLAIMED.  Wasteland came under cultivation. Oh how I love that right before we faced death, we were singing the words in that song.  But it gets even better.

I went home last night to find my sweet Naomi, waiting for my return.  She wanted to hear all about the day of prayer with some of the women she esteems and loves.  I asked if she could remember the songs before, and she couldn’t, but also hasn’t listened to Kari Jobe since.  My invitation to her was tender, “if and when you ever want to listen with me, I will tell you.”  We then moved on in conversation.  About 10 minutes later she bravely said, “Mom, I want to hear too.”  As I pulled up the CD on my phone I looked down the song list and BAM!  My eyes were opened, and I saw the song that we had sung together, in it's entirety before “Let Your Glory Fall” began to play.  But first we listened to the words that had played as evil tried to shatter our family.  Naomi couldn’t remember, which is to be expected as she was unconscious for a sustained time after all was said and done, and amnesia is BIZARRE.  But as she listened, she felt brave to carry on.  “Let’s listen to the other one, the one we sang together.”  In the world of trauma, that boldness is like summiting a mountain.  If you’ve been here, you know. If not, please trust me.    

These are the lyrics.  “The atmosphere is changing now.  For the Spirit of the Lord is here.  The evidence is all around that the Spirit of the Lord is here.  Overflow in this place. Fill our hearts with Your love.  Your love surrounds us.  You’re the reason we came.  To encounter Your love. Your love surrounds us.  A MIRACLE can happen now, for the Spirit of the Lord is here.  The evidence is all around that the Spirit of the Lord is here.  Overflow in this place.  Fill our hearts with Your love.  Your love surrounds us.  Spirit of God, fall fresh on us.  We need your presence.  Your kingdom come.  Your will be done, HERE as in Heaven!   A miracle can happen now for the Spirit of the Lord is here.  The evidence is all around that the Spirit of the Lord is here….”  (Here as in Heaven, Kari Jobe)

Two years.  For two years, I have faced the minutes and hours after our wreck.  I have allowed God to work on those wounds in my mind and heart.  Only momentarily have I ever recoiled.  Gut wrenching memories have been the tools that God has used to sift through my entire emotional house, gently removing, reorganizing and rebuilding.  He has been reclaiming more of my ravished heart than I realized had been lost.  And in all of this time, despite all of His tender work, I have allowed one thing to remain, one locked memory I have chosen to leave undisturbed.  Last night, He took my hand over to the “precious” I have wanted to avoid for fear of undoing all the other good.  He took it out, held it in His gentle hand and exposed it.  And there was not destruction…there was healing.  Naomi wept tears of joy with me; scales fell from our eyes, seeing more beautifully the work God did that night. 

Last night we fell deeper in love with our Savior than ever before.  He reclaimed a key to the wasteland of my terror.  We believe that God could have prevented what happened to us that night, and while we don’t understand why He didn’t, we trust Him.  Naomi and I had only ever heard that song one other time before that night.  But we had proclaimed that the Spirit was with us…and a miracle could happen.  And then many miracles did happen.  Nearly two years now, I’ve shown up and done emotional work.  I’ve been vulnerable before God.  There is no telling how many boxes of Kleenex have soaked up my tears and snot in all these months.  And last night, with the love and support of warriors, and nudging from my Creator a major freedom came.  No longer do I need to fear the moments before, believing that their details would send me into oblivion.  God reclaimed them.  What evil meant for my destruction, He has reclaimed for my good.  Those moments had been lost, adrift in a wasteland of lurking mire and lingering fear.  But last night they became cultivating soil.  RECLAMATION.     

We all survived this.  Yes.  The evidence is all around.  God's love did surround us.  His Spirit was here, and miracles did happen.  Thank you, God.