Don’t You Tell Me We Never Loved You!
Ushered into to the day by the cloudy mist of the Ohio landscape, the same grey, anxious energy followed me all the way to my, girlfriend’s house, where we broke-up, and taking an hour drive back to my state, I was met by old and good friends.
By the late evening I set myself in a chair at my parents’ house, and as I sat there, sinking more heavily into the cushions, joy made itself elusive, and I began to lose hope.
A half hour earlier I was witty, funny, and even jovial, despite the reality of the breakup. Aware of the dissonance in myself, I began to worry, because I didn’t know that my mask looked like skin. — and I felt like I was deceiving myself.
It wasn’t until the big comfy chair had its effect on me that I sank back down to where I kept my own water level, and the sadness fell like a mic drop, reverberating through my bones.
Not intending to, I began a dialogue with my Mother, processing what had happened, with my face cast down, but really I was dialoguing with myself. In her own way she tried to problem solve in a cause and effect type manner, and I asked her to, “please stop”. Again, she began to explain all the “why’s”, and I tried to shut her down, believing that what she was bringing wasn’t real or relevant. She persisted with tears in her eyes, grabbing family albums, and exclaiming,
“Don’t you tell me that we never loved you!”
Flinging the albums in front of me she pointed to picture after picture that told the story of Love, the story I didn’t want to hear, the story that I had forgotten. My brother, sister, mother, father, all of them holding me as a baby—loving. My inner dialogue was disrupted.
It was foreign, alien even. Those pictures felt false, but I didn’t know what to do with them. Each one cherishing, and each one finding joy in who I was. I didn’t remember that, and perhaps it was the timing, but I felt like Luke in “The Empire Strikes Back” facing Darth Vader, hand cut off, being told that his nemesis was his father. Then, pulling from his insides, all Luke can muster is, “No, that’s not true. That’s impossible!”
However, I imagine it was much more painful for my family, as they watched me work through my selective memory. Rather than the Darth Vader/Luke Skywalker comparison it probably resembled the relationship between Katniss Everdeen and the brainwashed Peeta Mellark in The Hunger Games. The government in the Hunger Games drove a spear into the heart of their greatest threat, Katniss, by taking her love, Peeta, and turning him against her. Similarly, our enemy is constantly edging to infect the way we view those whom we love.
Brainwashed and all, I’m not sure how well I can accurately depict how this happens, except that I believed the words that the enemy spoke to me.
I believed those lies.
There are always reasons to believe what the enemy of your soul would instill into your heart, but an easy way to identify the base lie would be that it doesn’t actually build you up or help anyone. Instead, in this moment, I’m sad to say that I played the victim. A defeated, powerless role where I took no responsibility.
Had my family treated me perfectly? No.
But had they loved me? Absolutely, and I discounted that love 100 fold. That’s a terrible thing to do, and I’m at fault for that. Satan often wants to isolate us, because the child who believes he’s not loved, even if he is, will believe and do things that he knows, perhaps layered way down in his soul, are unfit for him.
Truth is much more rare to come by, because it requires effort. Thought lives must be taken captive, and an amount of discipline and focus must be ingrained. At times, truth feels not true, and there must be an anchoring point to pull us beyond what we are experiencing. When we are able to believe beyond belief, that is faith. An unpopular word, but a vital one.
Part of faith is remembering. Remembering where God has been, and how He has shown up in your life. If the enemy can erase, or better yet, distort your memories it’s hard to get them back, but faith also requires trust. Trusting God is not always easy, but in it we find rest for our souls as we remember His promises.
