THE GIRL WHO WAS LOVED
Through the past year and a half (three years now) of personal counseling while also studying and finally becoming a licensed professional counselor, there has been so much growth in my life. I joke with Amber that therapy has been so slow that I like to call myself the Therapy Sloth when I’d much rather be the Therapy Jaguar. She assures me this isn’t the case and constantly tells me that she sees my growth. Learning how to effectively counsel others while being counseled myself has been surreal. I read about transference and understand all the dynamics at play. The books, however, don’t tell you what it feels like. I can tell you what it feels like. I read that healing isn’t linear and I understand the reasons why. The books, however, don’t tell you what it feels like to have a flashback that leads you into some dark days after you’ve been doing so well. I can tell you what that feels like. The books tell you about complex-PTSD, which isn’t even officially recognized by the DSM-5 as an official mental health disorder. I can assure you that it is, and I can tell you what it feels like. Pushing through the healing feels like walking in mud most of the time, but I know what kind of boots you need for that, and I’m hoping that I can help someone else put their boots on, and we can get through the mud together.
I’ve learned so much about myself. I’ve learned what things trigger me – the feeling of being forgotten, certain jokes about sexual abuse, or the fear of being trapped. I’ve learned that my entire adulthood refusing to ride in cars with other people, that I just assumed was a strange personality quirk that I couldn’t explain, is actually a trauma response that deals with my extreme fear of being trapped. I’ve learned how to recognize my shallow breathing that always precedes extreme panic for me, what grounding techniques work for me, and how to give myself at least a modicum of grace. I’ve learned that I process things best through writing, and I’ve learned that no matter what, Blu will never leave my side. I’ve learned that Amber is always only a text away, and that the people who matter the most to me will receive my story with empathy, compassion, and grace. Learning I can do. I love learning.
Do you know what you can’t learn, though? You can’t learn how much God loves you or that He never left you. Someone else can’t believe that enough for you or convince you with the right words that it’s true. You can’t will yourself to believe it. That is something only God can do. As I read back over my story, I mentioned to Blu, “I’m afraid there’s not enough God in it. I feel like I should be talking about God more.” But in reality, my issues have always been about God. The day that I couldn’t sing, “The Goodness of God,” anymore was the day I broke. When I couldn’t utter the words, “All my life You have been faithful,” I knew something had to change. I couldn’t live the rest of my life questioning His love, His faithfulness, or His plan for me. That wasn’t a life I wanted to live anymore.
So, for the past two years, even when I couldn’t sing the words myself, I pressed in close to Him. I gave Him the hurt of a 7-year-old girl, looking up at Him in brokenness and asking Him, “Why?” He carefully held me in His arms and whispered, “I love you.” I gave Him the anger of a 40-year-old woman, throwing all the words I’d never used before into His face. He took that anger without condemnation and whispered, “I love you.” He has been Grace and Understanding and Hope and Healing for the past three years.
In the middle of my healing journey, I was in the car when one of my new favorite songs came on, a song by Katy Nichole called “God is in this Story.” As I listened to the words and sang it myself, my heart whispered to God, “You’re not in my story. Where were You? Why weren’t You there?” I felt Him whisper to my heart, “Look again.”
God was in my story from the very beginning. When I was four, and I memorized the 23rd Psalm, I didn’t understand all the words. But He knew what was going to happen to me just three short years later, and He knew the words I would need to survive. He didn’t want me to learn them later, after the abuse. He wanted those words in my heart in my extreme innocence before a hand was ever laid on me. He wanted the words, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, You are with me” to be the words I would go back to at the age of 40 that would hold so much more power than the words of my abusers. He wanted the words, “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies” to be the words that would allow me to see past the rage and the demand for justice that I will never get. He wanted me to know that I would see justice one day when He prepares that table before me, in the presence of those enemies. And He wanted me to know that, “Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life” meant every day of my life – in the summers of 1988 and 1989 and on other really, really hard days in my life – even those days, His goodness and mercy followed me.
He never left. God is in my story. He was there in that auditorium when I first smiled at Blu. He was there the day I walked away from New Day. He was there at the altar of the Way Summit when I laid my paper and my heart before Him. He was there on my porch the day Amber dialed my number for the first time. And He’ll be there the day I sit across from somebody else who doesn’t think they’re worthy of His love.
Those are things that I didn’t learn. But they are things I know to be true. I am loved by Him, I was always loved by Him, and there’s nothing I did to earn that which means there’s nothing I can do to un-earn it.
My name is Darbi, and I’m the girl who was loved. So, so loved by God. God is in my story. He’s in yours, too. If it reads like addiction
If it reads like disease
He's the One who frees the prisoner
He's the healer of all things
If it reads like depression
If it reads broken home
He's the One who holds your sorrow
He won't leave you here alone
God is in this story
God is in the details
Even in the broken parts
He holds my heart, He never fails
When I'm at my weakest
I will trust in Jesus
Always in the highs and lows
The One who goes before me
God is in this story
