Regaining Feeling

Will likes to call himself an "efficient sleeper". He says that while he is sleeping, his body takes heat from his arms and legs and only keeps his core warm. Therefore, he sleeps with lots of blankets and often wakes up cocooned in the covers and shivering.

Will's "efficiency" has made me think a lot lately about our body's response to stress and trauma. I believe our emotions respond in a similar way to Will's efficient body (yes, I giggle a little every time I use that phrase because my husband is funny). When we go through trauma, our emotions go into "survival mode". The keep the core of us functioning, but the non-essentials suffer for the time-being. We're functioning, but only at partial capacity and if we continue that way without seeking help or healing, part of us will die and we will not be about to function "wholly" any longer.

Will and I are so grateful for this season in Nairobi because we have time to assess which parts of us have gone numb due to extended stress and trauma. We have the space to process, bring things to the light and heal. And slowly by slowly, we are starting to regain feeling in parts of ourselves that have long been numb.

I recently saw this quote that a friend posted:

"The difference between shallow happiness and a deep, sustaining joy is sorrow. Happiness lives where sorrow is not. When sorrow arrives, happiness dies. It can't stand pain. Joy, on the other hand, rises from sorrow and therefore can withstand all grief. Joy, by the grace of God, is the transfiguration of suffering into endurance, and of endurance into character, and of character into hope--and the hope that has become our joy does not (as happiness must for those who depend up on it) disappoint us."

~Walter Wangerin

I love this quote because it reminds me, yet again, that sorrow is not wasted. It produces in us deep, lasting, meaningful, joy. However, this does not come without work. I can't just expect that when I'm going through sorrow-filled seasons that I will naturally wake up one day and be filled with joy. Yes, that can happen by God's power, but usually this transition into joy is a process. It takes times to heal from the wounds and grow from the struggle that the sorrow brought. 

For Will and I, we can't expect that we will suddenly be okay with the fact that we are no longer missionaries in South Sudan. We can't expect to get off the phone with our friends in Mundri who just told us, "we are really suffering, we have no food for our children and are fearing what will happen next." and completely feel fine about the fact that we are not there with them and not able to meet their major, felt, needs at all times. However, we can allow God to meet us in the paradox of knowing we can't be in Mundri and also how much we long for it at the same time. We are taking time to allow God to speak to us in the pain and remind us that HE is still there. He is still with our friends and has not forgotten them. We wish we were involved in that process more, but in reality, what would that do? What would our worldly help do if God is not calling us there? What can I do that He is not able to without me (if I know He hasn't called me there for this time)? 

So for now, we heal. We ask God to reveal the numb places in our hearts. And we trust. We trust that His grace is sufficient and in our weakness, He is strong.