I took the first step toward healing: That confession, that admission, that surrender.
And I said that step two just sort of happened on its own. Step three did too. I said there was more to come about that. Here it is.
Step Two: Discover the root of the fear, the lie feeding it all, and speak it out loud to someone you trust.
I sat in my living room, all cozy in my safe place, right here.
The coffee cup was hiding in the cupboard, and I was squeezing that throw pillow tight.
One of my roommates, a trusted friend and wise young woman, sat across from me. She asked me tough questions. She asked me obvious questions. She asked me necessary questions. And she let me sit in silence searching for answers; she let me word vomit and talk in circles.
"Why would it be so awful to accidentally bump into one of them?" Her question was a gentle one. There was no accusation or judgment, just a desire to understand, to know me even in all this mess.
"Because this was my fault. I hurt them. I don't want to find out if they are still hurt or if they still hold this against me. I don't want to know if they still blame me." It came out of my mouth along with a whole spew of words attempting to articulate the thought.
"What would happen if you bumped into them?" She continued seeking to understand.
"I don't know. I'm afraid that I might go back there. Not to that situation, but to the place I was mentally then. That their looks, their attitude, would take me back to the blame and the shame and the failure and the apathy."
Those are the lies that feed my fear. That if I bumped into them, they would obviously hate me and blame me, and facing that blame again would take me back to that painful place of shame and brokenness and apathy.
Thankfully, the conversation didn't end there. There was another step.
Step Three: Allow that trusted individual (or group) to speak truth in response to those lies.
And she did.
"The things that went wrong in that relationship are not all your fault. You know that, right?"
I did, but I didn't. "But I should have ended it sooner. I should have known it needed to end sooner."
She talked me through my weird reasoning helping me see that I would give that grace to anyone other than myself. She reminded me that I was obedient and faithful to Jesus in that, and that was what really mattered.
"Can you trust them to Jesus? Can you trust that he is redeeming and healing them too?"
It wasn't all my fault. It was an awful relationship because of the two of us, but even if it was all on me, Jesus is capable of bringing about full redemption and healing. I did not ruin him or his family. They are capable of experiencing the redemption I'm experiencing. Thank you, Jesus.
"You do know that nothing you or anyone else does can bring you back to that place, right? You're not the Kayla you were then. You're never going to be that Kayla again. Jesus has redeemed you, and he will continue to redeem you until he comes back and makes everything right reigning as King on the earth."
That was what I really needed to hear. I'm not that Kayla. The past three years have brought about a lot of growth and change, and there's no going back to that awful place and brokenness. No one can steal this redemption from me. No one can snatch me out of Jesus' grip.
Even when I'm sleeping. Even as I dream, I belong to Jesus. Even in my subconscious mind, Jesus is faithful to meet me. He's there, and he's still the Lord, the Master, the Reigning King.
As another person who is well-acquainted with nightmares, she shared the beauty of Psalm 4:8 with me. "In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety."
And so that night, I slept. I didn't have nightmares. I wasn't afraid of sleep. I clung to the truth of who God is. God keeps me safe. God doesn't leave me alone in my nightmares. Jesus has made me his. He has redeemed me. He is continuing to redeem me. Nothing can take that away because God is fully faithful to his character.
The following Saturday morning, as I stood at Starbucks mindlessly filling the pastry case before we opened, I caught some of the song lyrics playing through the speakers. Something about a dream. Then I realized, in my dream the night before, I bumped into my ex, but it wasn't a nightmare. There was nothing to fear. That encounter couldn't take anything away from me, couldn't force further blame or guilt on me. In that interaction, dream-Kayla clung to some truth, and she didn't have anything to fear.
I'm not saying this is all over. There is probably more healing that needs to take place. It's only been two weeks. Nightmares could occasionally happen. But now I have more truth to cling to. Now I can combat the lies and uproot the fear. Now I am better prepared to remind myself of the significance of the redemption Jesus is bringing, and I know that nothing, not even years of nightmares, can take that away.
What are some steps you need to take to find healing from some of your own deep-rooted fear?
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