Are We Making Any Progress?

I woke up at three A. M. praying that no one would molest her at church camp. 

I have written about this before. I thought once I admitted it to myself and others I would be fine. Then I woke to this early morning prayer. My great-niece left for a week at church camp the day before. I am exited for her. Church camp was a very special part of growing up. My last year as a camper the director of the camp grabber me between my legs much as the current inhabitant of the White House brags about doing to women. 

I have received many comments and questions about the cover of my book, Prostitutes, Virgins and Mothers: Questioning Teachings About Biblical Women.

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I gave answers like, "Women have been hurt by patriarchal interpretations of women's biblical stories. The woman on the cover represents the pain I have seen in my own eyes after a particularly harsh chastisement of women based on patriarchal interpretations." I gave an answer like that to  Marg Herder, a woman I greatly respect and the Director of Public Information for the Evangelical Ecumenical Women's Caucus: Christian Feminism Today. She was writing a review of my book for the EEWC web page. The review can be found at this link. https://eewc.com/prostitutes-virgins-mothers-questioning-teachings-biblical-women/

Muscles Have Memory

After that correspondence with Marg I went to the gym. It is a good thing that the weight was really heavy and the music was really loud because I burst into tears. Not just tears, but the ugly cry. The flood of memory and emotion surrounding the grabbing incident and what followed, overwhelmed me. That was the first time I wrote or even talked about the experience. First to Marg, then on this blog. 

What Has Changed?

Almost 50 years later and I am praying for the safety of a fourteen-year-old girl at church camp. Almost 50 years later and the occupant of the White House brags about grabbing women's private parts. When I asked Marg if I could use her name in this blog she told me of a therapist friend who has seen an increase of women with PTSD because of experiences like mine. Having a man in the White House, who brags about molesting women has brought all those long buried feelings to the surface.
I am a Christian Feminist and I pray no one molests her or any other little girl or woman. 

Eight Lessons Learned From Pain

My sister said, "Well, if the doctor had just found out what was wrong in 2012 you could have avoided all this pain.  I didn't say it but my first thought was. "But then I would have missed the lessons."I knew there were lessons to be learned from this experience and I didn't want to miss them. I even said little prayers from time to time when the pain was particularly bad or the lack of mobility extremely frustrating.  "Please don't let me miss the lesson in this." This is what I learned.

1. Be Grateful. Pain gives faith a whole new meaning and it is gratitude. In the hospital I practiced gratitude for all the things I take for granted. Simple things like being able to get out of bed by myself, or walk unassisted, even going to the bathroom became an activity for which to be grateful. 

2. I am not alone. Pain and the isolation of rehabilitation can be depressing. But friends showed up at my bedside, or sent cards that made me laugh, and called to check on me. Friends sending prayers and positive thoughts helped. When I saw my name on the church prayer list or on a FB post I knew prayers and positive energy were coming my way.  

3. It is okay to rest. Psalms 46:10 says, "Be still, and know that I am God." In that stillness, that rest there is a space for the divine that would not have existed without the pain. Rest is also essential for healing.

4. Self care is vital. Mark 12:31 says, "Love your neighbor as yourself." We sometimes miss the, "love yourself" part of that verse.  I cannot take care of anyone else if I do not take care of myself.  Part of taking care of myself is deciding that I am stronger than the pain.

5. Listen when others want to share their pain.  I think this might be the hardest lesson.  We all carry our own pain or the pain of someone we love.  My experience is that people just want to be heard or want you to know that they understand what you are going through.  Listen.

6. Be kind. Matthew 7:12 records what we often call the Golden Rule, "In everything do to others as you would have others do to you."  There are good Samaritans and angels everywhere.  They are sometimes disguised as doctors, nurses, physical therapists or food service workers. Even my neighbor, who works at the hospital, showed up every morning, before work with Starbucks. If I am grumpy and impatient or unkind I will miss the good they are trying to do for me.

7. My attitude is the most important factor I bring to my healing.  I confess was scared.  Scared of the surgery, the pain and the recovery. So I had my sister, Hilary make me a pink tutu.  When physical therapy got me on my feet I wore that tutu with my pink boa, pink polkadot socks and a tiara. Not only did I cheer myself up but I cheered up everyone who saw me. 

8. See other perspectives.  Being "disabled" even for the short time I was, has given me more empathy for the people walking slowly or being pushed in a wheelchair. 

I take faith for granted when I feel good, but lying in a hospital bed in pain and dependent on others for my most basic bodily functions required faith. Faith in myself, faith in my care givers and faith in my creator.  It is blessing that God gives our magnificent brains the ability to forget the pain, but I hope I never forget the lessons learned from the pain.