Reading
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.
Matthew 11:28-30
Reflection
This week we direct our attention to Step Five: “We admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.” This is hard. We tend to avoid pain, and remembering our wrongdoings can be quite painful. Sometimes, after trauma, our brains block certain memories, allowing us to cope with life in the present. In such extreme cases, forgetting can be a necessary condition for survival. Generally, however, facing painful memories is a significant step toward healing. As the saying goes, “You can’t tame what you won’t name.”
When we think about the harm done in our lives, there’s usually a blend of things—harm we’ve inflicted upon others, and harm others have inflicted upon us. Things get even more complicated because some of the pain and trouble we experience come from harm we’ve done to ourselves, often through the ways we’ve tried to manage stress. That’s where addictions can take control. They seem to lessen the pain—at least for a time—but eventually, they sabotage what’s good in our lives, even the things we value most, like our closest relationships.
Avoiding pain at all costs might become our ultimate goal, but that perspective is unsustainable. Paradoxically, when we experience the pain of acknowledging the “shadow” parts of our story, it can actually lighten the heavy load we’ve been carrying.
Do you long for healing—the kind of healing that includes knowing you’re forgiven and forgiving yourself? If so, perhaps now is the time to find a person you trust and share your story with them. Deep healing doesn’t come from ignoring or forgetting; it comes through truth-telling. Just because something isn’t being talked about doesn’t mean it’s healed.
In his book The Living Reminder, Henri Nouwen tells a story about Elie Wiesel:
“In 1944, all the Jews of the Hungarian town of Sighet were rounded up and deported to concentration camps. Elie Wiesel…was one of them. He survived the Holocaust and twenty years later returned to his hometown. What pained him most was that the people of Sighet had erased the Jews from their memory. Wiesel writes, ‘I was not angry with the people of Sighet…for having driven out their neighbors of yesterday, nor for having denied them. If I was angry at all it was for having forgotten them.’”
I was struck again by the power of Wiesel’s words. Forgetting is not the same as being made whole. Pretending harmful things never happened isn’t the path toward healing, reparation, or reconciliation. Denying our painful past also denies us the chance for healing. By contrast, telling our stories—and listening to the stories of others—paves the road toward experiencing the healing touch of God.
Here’s an exercise to try today:
Is there something that has weighed on your conscience for a long time, but you’ve ignored it? Are there things you’ve never fully accepted responsibility for in your life? Think about those things.
When you close your eyes and settle into quiet reflection, can you picture being free of those burdens? What feelings do you experience when you picture that freedom, that wholeness?
Slowly read aloud the six sentences below:
- My story matters because I matter.
- I call my story “sacred” because I see God’s presence in it.
- My burden is lighter when I choose to share the load.
- I will allow God to heal me because I trust in God and long to be made whole.
- I am being made whole because God loves me and is healing me.
- I will rest in the assurance that I am forgiven.
Prayer:
Almighty and loving God, thank you for being in my life. Thank you for working your healing grace in me. Grant me courage to face the shadow parts of my life instead of avoiding, denying, or forgetting. May my story bring glory to you. Amen.
