Faith, Feelings, and My F-150, episode 12
Your Pain Isn’t Just for You
Narrator: It was late on a Friday afternoon when Alex finished his work on the construction site in Lakeville. It felt good to have all the electrical work in the new section finished. Alex always felt a sense of satisfaction when one of his projects was completed, and he knew he had done a quality job.
Alex completed another project during his drive home. He listened to the final chapter in Lauren’s audiobook. Alex was a bit erratic in his listening. Sometimes he binge-listened to several chapters back to back. But when there was a particular section that struck him, he listened to it more than once. And sometimes he took a break to journal, or do something else to put in practice what he was learning.
As Lauren closed her book, she shared how understanding the steps to handle loss doesn’t necessarily make the process any easier.
Lauren Wells: I sent the draft of this book to my editor the week we discovered we were expecting our third child. With our girls in elementary school, we thought we were done with the baby stage. The discovery was followed shortly by, “We don’t even have a crib anymore!,” “But I really, really love sleeping through the night,” and “This was not what I had planned!” My husband simply smiled and said, “But think of how many more grandchildren we’re going to have!” There are forward thinkers, and then there’s Aaron, who regularly jumps ahead twenty years.
The news came as a shock, but over the weeks I warmed up to the idea and shifted from skeptical to excited. As I battled daily nausea, I took comfort in lime-flavored popsicles and the fact that nausea is good because it means the baby is probably healthy. After several weeks, we shared the news with our girls, whose excitement was comparable to that of Christmas morning. They started a running list of names and shared the news with everyone they came across – including the checker at the grocery store.
Thanksgiving week, Aaron and I drove to the clinic for an ultrasound. With a growing belly and nausea still present that morning, we assumed everything was going well. It was not.
“There’s no heartbeat,” the ultrasound technician said as we stared at our motionless baby on the screen. In shock, we were ushered into the next room to make the most awful decisions. Because it was Thanksgiving week and because of how far along I was, I ended up having surgery that day to remove the baby. The day began with joy and a baby bump and ended with a flattened belly and so, so many tears.
It feels like a cruel twist of irony to have such an unexpected loss in the same season that I’m publishing a book on processing grief. It had been some time since my last major Grief Tower block, and I rather liked writing this book from a “been there, done that” past-tense perspective. The funny thing about being a “grief expert” (a title often
bestowed when someone else writes my bio), is that knowing all about how to process grief in healthy ways doesn’t actually make hard things any easier.
I would greatly appreciate it if the tools I’ve spent years accumulating would take the hurt away and make hard things less painful. I’d love to promise that what you will learn in these pages will make grief suck less. But I can tell you that’s not true.
What I can tell you, is that the weeks between that awful day at the clinic and writing these words have been heartbreakingly painful. Watching my girls weep, packing up the maternity clothes I had just bought and hardly had the chance to wear, being continually reminded of the plans that were made that are now null and void, many nights of falling asleep on a tear-soaked pillow – it has been devastating.
I can also tell you that because of the inner work and outward teaching I’ve been doing over the past decade, this season of grief has been navigated in ways my younger self wouldn’t even recognize.
Having tools hasn’t made it hurt less, but it has given me a map. It has given me tools to unstack this gut-wrenching grief by:
• Knowing what normal looks like, so that when I am suddenly overwhelmed by sadness, when I’m physically exhausted, when I’m crankier than normal, when I’m wondering what’s wrong with me, I can continually tell myself, “This is what grief looks like. I’m not crazy.”
• Knowing what healthy coping looks like and recognizing when I’m slipping into unhealthy habits like sleeping or being overly busy to avoid feeling.
• Understanding that strength is not stuffing down the emotions and pushing through without a tear, like my younger self thought. Remembering that there is great strength in admitting that this is painful and letting myself experience the difficult emotions that I’d rather not.
• Knowing how to walk my kids through this grief in a way that allows them to name, feel, and recognize the sadness, anger, and pain that comes with such a loss.
• Having tools to unstack this Grief Tower block by giving time and space to process the reasons why this feels so hard.
As I wrote this book, I didn’t expect that I would need my own words. I didn’t expect that I would be the one working to actively unstack a block on my Grief Tower. As I gave this manuscript a final read-through, I didn’t expect to want to throw it against the wall and devour these words all at the same time.
The Unstacking Method you’ll learn in these pages doesn’t make hard things feel less hard. But it does give tools for learning how to move through hard things in healthy ways – both the hard things that happened long ago that you didn’t have tools to process well at the time and current hardships that you want to learn to navigate well. So we’re on this journey together.
Narrator: It was really helpful for Alex to hear this final section. Lauren said that knowing the steps to deal with loss doesn’t necessarily make it any easier. She was starting all over from scratch as she faced another miscarriage.
It was four months now since Alex began to deal with the issues of his past, so he was able to understand where Lauren was coming from. His sister Alena was only at the beginning of her process of dealing with anger. It was going to take some time and effort for Alena to move beyond her past hurts. Emotional wounds take time to heal.
Alex felt well-rested the next morning. He was out the door early most weekdays, so Saturday mornings were a special time of breakfast together as a family. Adrian and Lara always lit up for the weekly tradition of daddy’s homemade Belgian waffles. Whenever they sat around the table together, Alex reminded himself of the angry silence that pervaded the family dining table in his childhood. Adrian and Lara would never fully appreciate what their father did to provide a healthier emotional environment for them growing up. Alex didn’t need them to. It was enough that they would grow up without knowing the fear and anger he experienced as a child.
That afternoon, Alex’ family visited Mikhail and Tatiana Koslov. Tatiana was the young woman who bravely shared her testimony about childhood sexual abuse. The Koslovs were about the same age as Alex and Natasha. Their son was one year old, just a bit younger than Lara, so the two families found it easy to build a friendship.
As the children settled down in the play area, Natasha asked Tatiana how things had gone since she shared her testimony at church.
“It’s been interesting to see the response,” Tatiana said. “It’s been mixed. Some of the older folks in the church don’t know what to do with me. Some of them are uncomfortable being around me, because they don’t know what to say. Some are probably displeased that we even discussed the issue of abuse in church. A few of them pity me like a poor wounded puppy.
But some of the young people at church really appreciate what I shared. Three young women have come to me to share their stories of abuse. They’re just happy to meet somebody who gets it. Others have said they themselves haven’t experienced abuse, but their friends have. Knowing we’re at church makes it more likely they’ll invite their friends to worship, so they can introduce them to me.
I think I’ve gained the reputation in church of being ‘the abuse girl’. That’s okay with me. I just want others to not have to suffer alone like I did. I’ve found a verse that really expresses what I’ve gone through. It’s 2 Corinthians 1:3-4: ‘Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God’.
What Paul is saying is that all the hardships he went through weren’t just for him. They were for others too. Paul’s suffering made him empathetic so he could comfort others who were suffering.
And that makes me think about stewardship. You know, often we’re told that we’re stewards of our time, money, and spiritual gifts. But we’re stewards of our suffering too. God didn’t give us these hardships, just for us alone. It’s always for somebody else as well. When Christians saw how Paul kept preaching despite all he suffered, they were emboldened to keep serving amidst all their hardships. When victims of abuse hear my story, they’re encouraged and empowered. They know they’re not alone, and they know they’re able to speak up.”
Mikhail added, “It hasn’t been easy. When Tatiana first told me about her abuse, I had no idea how deep her pain was. I wasn’t prepared for how long and difficult the recovery process would be. I attended many of Tatiana’s therapy sessions, whenever she asked. That really helped me have a better understanding about the healing process.”
Tatiana continued, “I’m so grateful for the time I spent seeing a wonderful therapist. I don’t think I would have made it without her. But not everyone has that need. Alex, Natasha tells me you’ve been listening to Lauren Wells’ audiobook, What Made That Feel So Hard? I’ve listened to it, too. I really like what she has to say. I think for people like you who don’t necessarily need formal counseling, a book like Lauren’s can be really helpful.
But sometimes just reading a book isn’t enough. Sometimes we need to tell our stories. And we need to hear from likeminded people who can understand us and empathize with our process. You know, on Lauren’s website, TCK Training, there are resources to start a group for unstacking grief towers based on her ideas.
Mikhail and I have been talking to some of the young couples at church that we think might really benefit from a group like this. We’re wondering if the two of you might help us lead it.”
Natasha was first to respond. “Us? I hardly feel qualified to lead something like that. Neither Alex nor I did any formal counseling. I just listened to him and supported him in his process.”
Mikhail replied, “You’re not so different from me. I didn’t know much about sexual abuse before Tatiana began her healing process. I’ve learned a lot, but it isn’t nearly as much as she has. All I did was patiently support her in that process.”
Tatiana reached over and gently squeezed Mikhail’s hand. “And that is exactly what I needed you to do. I didn’t need you to fix anything. You didn’t cause the problem, and you couldn’t fix it. There are so many husbands who are not supportive of their wives as they go through this. Honestly, I don’t think I could have made it without you encouraging me.
And it’s so refreshing being at our church. At our church in Milwaukee, discussion of the issue was forbidden. So it was just me and Mikhail. But here we have the support of Pastor Petrov and friends like you.”
Alex chimed in, “I’m sure it’s much easier to walk through pain when you have a supportive group to talk to. I keep thinking of my sister Alena. She’s been divorced twice, and keeps sabotaging every friendship she makes. I’m probably the only person she’s really open with. And when she unloads, it can get really intense. It will be hard for her to find a place that will let her express what she really feels. Plus, she just thinks of church as a place full of self-righteous people who follow traditions and look down on those who don’t.”
“That’s why we need a group like this,” said Mikhail. “People who have been burned by church need a safe place where they can come and talk about their experiences.”
“But we want to be sure and keep the gospel first,” Alex added. “I agree that lots of folks like me need to work through issues of their past, but the most important thing for anyone is that they come to know Christ.”
“Absolutely!” Tatiana replied. “Coming to faith in Christ is the foundation of every blessing we experience. It’s where we come to know God’s love and forgiveness. But so many people have been burned by negative experiences with religion, like at our church in Milwaukee. We need to meet people where they are, with the needs they have, before we start to talk about faith in Christ.”
That conversation led to lengthy discussions the next week between Alex and Natasha. They were so grateful for the new level of peace Alex experienced since he dealt with anger at his father. But it never dawned on them that their experience might qualify them to lead others through a similar process.
They joined Mikhail and Tatiana in searching online for the best materials to lead such a group. But whether or not a group formed at their church, the verse Tatiana shared with Alex changed his perspective. We are all stewards of our pain. Our suffering isn’t meant to remain private. It exists partly to point the way for others in similar situations. Alex was ready to share his story openly, including all the mistakes he made along the way.
His conversations with Alena would certainly continue. But Alex was open to other doors God might open to share his story. Alex had already committed his life to God. Now he committed his pain to God, too, asking God to bring good out of the evil he had experienced.
Looking back at where he'd started, Alex marveled at the transformation in his heart. The journey hadn't been quick or easy. But the freedom he was experiencing was worth every painful step of the way. Alex felt a quiet confidence growing within him. He was no longer defined by his father's failures, or his bitterness toward them. Alex was a child of God who was learning to stand full in the freedom Christ earned for him.
