I always carried a
shame for being the sensitive one.
From a young age I
was drawn to babies, animals and dolls alike. New life made me cry.
Death also made me
cry.
The first time I learned of the Holocaust, I wept to the point
of exhaustion and breathlessness. This pattern of feeling deeply
continued on in my life, but I never grew into it. Instead, I was
medicated. I always assumed there was something wrong with me, that a
PG-13 movie peak scene was sometimes too much, like that time I was
16, on a date to see Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. A horse
was shot with a bow and arrow in an opening scene, and I fled the
theater in tears. I could not return to my seat, but I had
abandoned my popcorn and purse in my mad dash so that the nice guy who had
accompanied me asked management for a flashlight to crawl on his
hands and knees and retrieve my belongings from our row. No, he never
asked me out again….and I wouldn’t have either 😜
And, so over the
years, not able to restrain my emotions like I wished that I could, I
just kept them to myself, crying in private. Or, I tried to make it
seem cute that baby commercials and Christmas and stories made me
cry, even if internally I felt like a giant loser. Thankfully, I've grown in
my identity as a child of God, and not been medicated for a over decade now, I’m learning to become more comfortable with who I am.
Just two days ago I happened upon the shirt that I wore when I met my husband for the first time. I held it in my arms, smelled it, pulled it
on, and then I cried. I remembered how it felt to see him 10 years
ago, to sneak lightening fast peeks at the color of his eyes, and how that first hug bound me to
him for life. I could not imagine a life not having access to those
bear hugs! When he came home from work, I was wearing the shirt and
he said, “Did it bring up some good memories?” I nodded, and
casually admitted I shed some tears. Years ago I would have told
no one.
I
am in a season of engaging my emotions responsibly. I’ve read books
(including the Highly Sensitive Person, which recommended I visually
return to the birth canal and comfort myself. Didn't quite finish that book 😅), and I've listened to numerous podcasts. I’m beginning to discover that there is nothing wrong
with me.
However, I have a
confession. When one of my daughters cries, I am convinced there is
something very wrong with them. I have THREE daughters and that means
there are very many tears shed in my house, daily. Sometimes one of
them will cry over spilled milk, and the other two will cry because
the first one cried. Suddenly I am every authority figure in my life
that ever said, “You are the sensitive one” and I am telling
them, inadvertently, “You are too sensitive!” I have tried to hone in my frustration with the
exuberant amount of emotions that cycle around this place, but mostly
I am telling the three little girls to suck it up. Literally no life
lessons in that. Paul approached me weeks ago and said the Lord had
convicted him to be gentler on our girls as they process their
emotions, and right then, I knew the Lord was speaking to me, too.
I’ve been practicing being okay with their emotions, even as I
learn to be okay with mine.
Two days ago Sonora
was laying around doing nothing and I asked her to help me fold
laundry. She started to cry, and said, “Can’t you see I just need
rest?” Yes, I was frustrated. Why does a 7 year old still in her
pajamas at 11 am need rest? I felt the Lord nudging me to engage her. “Why
do you feel like you need rest?” She starts to sob, “I just need
time with my mommmy!!"
I held onto her as she cried, but really, I was
confused. I had sat with her that morning and done schoolwork, and we
baked breakfast muffins together. I couldn’t figure out at what point in my
day she had been abandoned. In fact, that entire morning she had been
my shadow while the other children played! So, I held her, fighting
those feelings that she was being totally irrational. “I sat with
you this morning. Do you remember that? We made muffins together...”
She cries, “I know!” Then it occurred to me, as a highly
emotional person myself, that maybe she didn’t understand why she
felt sad. I understand this as someone who has had shame attached to
my emotions, avoiding them. So I asked her, “Do you want to ask
Jesus what’s going on?”
I could be
extra-spiritual here and tell you we went through inner-healing and
everything was swell, but she sobbed louder, “I don’t want to
talk to Jesus!” Alrighty, then.
I realized that
even though she was resistant to talking with Jesus, I could still
talk to Him, and model His love and care for her. I closed my eyes
and waited, then said, “This isn’t about having time with me or
needing rest, is it?” I
waited for her to answer. I waited and waited while she cried on my
shoulder, and everything that needed to be done around the house
became further pushed behind. Then, she spoke, “I’m really scared
we won’t find a house to live in. I don’t want things to change.
I want things to be normal, like the last two years. I want Christmas
in this house. I want my birthday in this house.” And, on and on
she went with a list of things that been building for weeks.
First of all, her
process enlightened me to a personality trait of hers: she doesn’t
like change. She likes stability. She likes order. She likes her
things in place. She’s my “clean” child. To be honest, I’m
more like her in my nature, but over the years, I’ve learned to
cultivate trust in God, even when I don’t know the future. Our
house has been alive with chatter over the changes coming, the BIG
changes that are going to be so fun: Christmas in a NEW house, NEW
bedrooms, and all the while she has bottled up her own frustrations
and here they were in a mess we had to piece together. After I helped
her realize where her emotions had stemmed from, I told her that it’
s perfectly okay to be sad, to be scared, to have doubt, and to be
frustrated….as long as she voices these things so we can process
them together. I reminded her of several testimonies of God’s
goodness and faithfulness in our lives so that I did not leave her in
hopelessness, but simply gave her permission to feel. Then we hugged,
and she skipped off a different child, alive with passion for life.
Then I repented for all the times I’ve told my girls their emotions
are too much for me, thus teaching them their emotions are too
much for them so they avoid feeling or attach shame.
I want to teach my
girls that’s it’s okay to feel. I want to continue teaching
myself to feel responsibly, so that I can in turn teach my children
how to do this.
I was reading the
story of Joseph to the children days ago, and while I’ve read the
story many times and been encouraged, a new element stood out to me.
Genesis 42:24 “And
he {Joseph} turned himself away from them and wept.”
Genesis 43:30 “Now
his heart yearned for his brother, so Joseph made haste and sought
somewhere to weep. And he went into his chamber and wept there.”
Genesis 45:2 “Then
Joseph could not restrain himself before all who stood by him and he
cried out, “Make everyone go out from me!”...And he wept aloud,
and the Egyptians and the house of the Pharaoh heard it.”
Genesis 45: 14 “Then
he fell on his brother Benjamin’s neck and wept, and Benjamin wept
on his neck. Moreover he kissed all of his brother and wept over
them.”
Genesis 46:29 “So
Joseph made ready his chariot and went up to Goshen to meet his
father Israel; and he presented himself to him, and fell on his neck
and wept on his neck a good while.”
Joseph’s humanity
was highlighted to me again, and again. He wept.
Jesus wept. (the
shortest scripture in the Bible, as
you may know)
I
wanted to put this together mainly to encourage parents with
emotional children to not push their emotions aside, but really press
into to why they are crying, whether it stems from that very moment, or something that triggered them days ago. Teach them to notice their
emotions, acknowledge them, and find a place of resolution, whether
it is a simple cry, or there is forgiveness that needs to be lent, or
a good cuddle from dad. More than anything, and I speak as someone
very much in process, be careful to tame your frustration. Sometimes
the tears are a simple tantrum, but sometimes they
are a gift from God, a key to your child’s heart. Use discernment,
and don’t be afraid to engage them in their process of growing in
emotional maturity. Join them on the journey. As the inventor of
emotions Himself, God will not abandon us in our pursuit!
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