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BACK One does not need to come around the rooms of recovery for very long before they hear the phrase, “We are only as sick as our secrets.” Well, folks, the bible spoke on this subject long before twelve steppers did. My goal in sharing this teaching tonight is to illustrate some of the uglier dynamics of secret keeping; the means by which these secrets can make and keep us ill; and the mighty power of confession. Psalm 32, verses 3 through 5 in The Message read like this… When I kept it all inside My bones turned to powder, My words became daylong groans. The pressure never let up All the juices of my life dried up. Then I let it all out; I said, “I’ll make a clean breast of my failures to God.” Suddenly the pressure was gone- My guilt dissolved My sin disappeared. From one extreme to another, these verses from this psalm illustrate the awesome way that confession takes the power out of our secrets. One moment our bones are turned to powder, the next our guilt/shame/sin is dissolved. Dissolved! Now, let’s take a look at the kinds of secrets we may keep inside out of self protection or guilt or shame. A young child who is molested does not tell a trusted adult about the abuse because maybe there is no trusted adult. Later, the secret remains a secret because somehow this growing child believed it was their fault or that they deserved it. He or she is ashamed. Holding tightly to this secret, they enter adulthood and by that time are likely to have developed some habits to cover the shame. Maybe he or she has picked up a substance addiction or an addiction to control; perhaps they’ve become promiscuous and picked up a venereal disease. It is very likely this child, now grown, has internalized some serious anger. So now, from one secret, you’ve got this adult who does not trust authority (although they may desperately crave their approval). You’ve got an adult with a habit that affects an entire family. You’ve got a person with unmanageable anger and, worst case scenario you’ve got a brand new perpetrator. Here’s another scenario. Mr. X is surfing the internet and happens upon a porn site. Intrigued, he begins to seek out more. He finds that his intrigue becomes fascination and that fascination creates an addiction which creates a host of other unseemly habits. He also develops a list of excuses to obtain undisturbed time on the computer, maybe even taking this addiction to work. Though once computer illiterate, he quickly learns how to erase the browser history so that family members, like the wife, can’t follow his trail. Because he may be a man of faith, he keeps this a secret. Ultimately, this person may seek out the “real thing” resulting in infidelity with another woman… or man. There is a certain excitement to being bad and getting away with it but it is accompanied by a kind of despairing desperation. We now have a new candidate for recovery. If the wife finds out on her own, we have a new candidate for divorce. If the divorce happens, the kids become candidates for all of the stuff that kids from divorced families can face; lower self-esteem, a greater likelihood of experimenting with drugs and alcohol… the list goes on. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of Mrs. X’s out there but their brand of infidelity usually begin with endless romance novels, soap operas, flirtations at work or some other activity that keeps the heart unguarded or open to interference. The point is that our secrets keep us sick. These ailments rarely remain mental or emotional. They take root physically in our bodies. Allow me to take a moment to share something from my own life. As an abused child, I came to believe that if the abuse was discovered, I would somehow get “in trouble.” This sense of false guilt followed me into adulthood causing me to keep secrets even when it damaged me in ways that seemed irreparable. I had not realized that one of the ways this manifested physically was in poor eating habits. I ate very little of value, or just very little, and as a result I was very thin. Thin for me was as close to unseen and therefore safe as I could get. If you can’t see me, you can’t hurt me, right? Consequently, I did not develop exercise habits because… I was thin. With each pregnancy and during nursing, I was able to care for myself physically. But four months after my son was born, I began drinking as my daughters hit the ages I was when I was first abused. It was one thing when it was just one kid but now two daughters at those same ages? I couldn’t handle it. My husband’s almost constant absence increased this behavior which led to drug use. I thought my life looked presentable but it was out of control. This reached a crescendo that knocked me into hard core addiction when my son was a year old. At that time, I discovered I was very, very pregnant and scheduled an abortion as late term as one could be given at that time. I was in deep fear of getting “in trouble” and did not want to bear a drug addicted child. I was also terrified that this person would be damaged and I knew I could not live with that guilt. Apparently, I could not live with any of it because I attempted to take my own life one week later. The doctors found minimal possibility of drug use in my blood and so diagnosed that I had mental issues and promptly overmedicated me. It was a rare day that I was awake for more than a few hours. My addiction was left untreated as was what was becoming fairly obvious postpartum depression. They did not know about the abortion and so I received virtually no counseling there. I held these secrets close to my heart as well as the shame, the guilt and that deep, deep wish that somehow my life would magically end. In a sense it did because after a few months, I started shooting meth. Then I carried out my punishment further by moving in with a man who was very abusive and staying with him for two and a half years. So you see, there were several times when I could have gotten help and perhaps prevented things from going this far. As a child, help did not seem available nor as a teenager. As an adult, the veil of “in trouble” was so thick I did not see the hope of help there. I could not say I was an addict because then someone would see how dirty I was and I wasn’t sure if that dirtiness was my fault or not. I could not say I took an innocent life because I KNEW I was responsible for that and this would just reveal just how desperately wretched an excuse for a woman I was. Any hope I had that I might have value stayed in the dark as these secrets stayed there. The fear of rejection and desolation loomed larger than the hope of being set free by the truth. But the truth does make us free and as ugly a confession this is in a Christian setting, my bible tells me that: “They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony, and they loved not their lives to the death.” ~ Rev 12:11 The more I can give this away and step out of my secrets in faith, the more I can liberate someone else to tell the truth. I cannot say enough how grateful I am that the pain became too much, that the effort became too much… that I could not contain all this garbage any more. I praise God for the days that my secrets started coming out of my mouth and not just in my behavior or my skeletor look. Beginning the healing process gets kind of addictive. You get a little healing from telling the truth and then you want to be all free all of the way. Of course, we learn the appropriate context in which to do this stuff. For myself, I began to reveal bits and pieces and the relief became so profound that I became rather compulsive in my revealing. This kind of compulsiveness was no healthier than stuffing the shame that bound me and it took time for me to learn what healthy boundaries and appropriate sharing looked like. This began with my finally attending a secular recovery meeting, raising my hand as a newcomer and saying, “My name is Victoria and I am an addict.” I was warmly received, was not made to feel like an outcast and decided it might be safe to return. My secret was out! Later, this process involved speaking to a couple of different counselors about the abuse. But, it was not until I had put myself into an outpatient program, that a counselor there asked me for the specific details of the abuse. I provided these details and, miracle of miracles he did not call me a liar! My counselor believed me and saw that my pattern of behavior was consistent with my early experience in every way! Now I was experiencing real relief from the burden of these secrets. Finally, someone “got” me. He understood my grief over the lack of closure with my mother over these incidents, affirmed the talent that he saw in me and the great potential I possessed. I came in fearful and left with hope. This was new for me. In and out of the secular twelve step programs, I finally found Celebrate Recovery as well as a church that felt like home. I was tentative here at CR in the beginning. I love people but I had to check out “these people” before I pursued any real relationships with them. Those of you who know me know that I got over that pretty quickly. One of the first things that I did was to start watching the women in my open share group. I paid attention to how they shared, what they shared and what their lives looked like. I prayed about what I saw and God began revealing to me which of these women would best serve as my sponsor. I cannot tell you how awesome it was that she was available but I do need to say that if someone tells you no, it is usually because their lives are very busy and they don’t want to short change your recovery. Keep looking. Keep asking. Continue to pursue the appropriate sponsor. And if someone says, “Let’s be accountability partners first,” it is likely they want to see your level of commitment, so show them. Jesus said, “Ask and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. “For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.” Matthew 7: 7-8 I believe this scripture applies as much to pursuing our recovery as it does to pursuing God in prayer. One of the results of taking the chance and opening up my heart and my truth to another woman is that I was taught how to trust, which in effect, made me trustworthy. I told this woman every awful thing that ever happened in my life and every shameful way that I acted out on it and she still loved me. She did not use my pain as fodder for gossip or minimize the effects that certain events had on my life. She simply accepted me, all of me, as I was… which allowed me to move forward instead of looking back. A thorough fourth step and all of the steps that followed enabled me to change my life completely, or more appropriately, allowed me to let God change my life completely. But it has been in the sharing of my secrets that I have been healed in the most profound ways. I no longer have to be enslaved by them. I no longer live to serve these secrets by planning out all of my activities to keep them hidden. Hidden wounds and hidden sins don’t heal well. “But we have renounced the hidden things of shame, not walking in craftiness nor handling the word of God deceitfully, but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of God.” 2 Corinthians 4:2 When we bring these things out into the open, when we expose them to the power of Jesus’ light and healing love, we become free… truly free. “Wherefore, if the Son has made you free, you shall be free indeed!” John 8: 36. We now have the option of making new mistakes instead of the same old ones. We can begin to make new choices, to choose alternative paths for our lives because we no longer have to protect old garbage. The truth no longer holds us captive, it liberates us. One of the truly awesome benefits of being broken and being honest about it is that it puts us on the same side as God. When we repent, he reclaims. When we confess, He comforts. When we fall, He forgives! Over and over and over again. Jesus said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me, because He has anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor; He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind. To set a liberty those who are oppressed.” Luke 4:18 Our secrets, when released, no longer have the power to oppress us. For me this means that I can see my wrong behaviors or character defects before I act out on them, or at least soon enough to prevent myself from hurting others with them. This means I don’t have to use drugs because I have shared my history with folks who can hold me accountable. This means I don’t have to act out sexually because I am learning to see the value that He sees in me. (Don’t you know that when Someone will die for you they value you?) This means that I am employable and capable of enjoying the family and the children that God has given me. I find in greater and greater measure that the Lord is returning to me exactly what I am capable of caring for. Relationships have been restored. Possibilities have been opened to me that I hoped for but never really believed were, well, possible. Ministry opportunities have become available to me. I have even been gifted with my own house which I get to purchase. All of this is the direct result of telling the truth, unpacking the skeletons from my closet, telling my secrets. All of this is the result of taking a leap of faith in trusting God and other human beings. All of this is the result of getting real. So, having been there and done that, I cannot encourage you strongly enough to risk getting real. Let your hair down take the mask off and tell the truth… as much as you are able. Trust God with the results. He is a much better planner than you are and He cares more than you do about how things turn out. You’ve got secrets. He wants them. Let Him have them. Haven’t they imprisoned you long enough? Thanks for letting me share. To thank Victoria for her message or ask any questions click here* Victoria Lynn's Blog |
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