*The following blog was first published at Sarah’s Home website at: https://sarahshome.us/a-story-is-about-to-be-told/. It is based in part from my book See My Body, See Me: A Pentecostal Perspective on Healing from Sexual Violence in which I interviewed licensed counselors and survivors on how pentecostals and charismatics heal from sexual violence. The names of the participants have been changed to uphold confidentiality.
Once upon a time . . . They are only four words. Yet, they wield such power.
Image by Victoria from Pixabay
Adults and children alike will stop and listen when these words are spoken. Shhh, someone may whisper, a story is about to be told.
When it comes to stories, age does not matter. We never grow out of them. Whether we are eight or eighty, we are wanting to tell or listen to a story.
We are a storied people. No matter our culture, ethnicity, race, gender, status, or age, our craving for stories seems to be a part of our DNA. We are enthralled by them, be it the stories of Olympian athletes or the 400th television episode of NCIS. Why else would over a 100 million people view the finale of M*A*S*H in February 1983? Any attempt to withstand the allure of stories is probably useless. Like a magnet drawn to steel, resistance is futile.
Consider the last time you experienced an embarrassing, frightening, or rewarding event. What was one of the first things you did? You no doubt told your story. And more than likely, you not only recounted the story once, but you were compelled to relay it again and again in hopes of being seen, heard, and validated. If it was a story of celebration, you longed for someone to rejoice with you, doubling the joy. If it was a story of loss, suffering, or trauma, the telling and re-telling of your story was how you moved toward healing.
Similarly, Counselor Megan indicated that an important part of the healing journey of a survivor of sexual violence is “the process of actually being able to tell the story.” When interviewing survivors for a qualitative study on healing from sexual violence, I learned that each participant told someone else about the sexual assault. Sometimes the initial person to hear about the survivor’s trauma story is a family member. Survivor Jackson first told his sister and his mom of how a neighbor sexually abused him. Survivor Sutton spoke of a letter that was sent to his sister about a church leader’s sexual abuse of boys at a previous church, leading to his telling the story to his sister and his parents about being sexual abused. At other times, survivors choose another trusted individual to whom they tell their story. Survivor Jade turned to her pastor after she began to have memories of being sexually violated after she had her first child. Survivor Mackenzie initially told her husband. Shortly thereafter, she confided in the woman who oversaw her church’s ministry to women, who responded by suggesting that they meet regularly. Later, the woman told Mackenzie, “The reason I stuck with you is because I couldn’t bear to leave you in the state you were in. You needed help.” That woman still journeys alongside Mackenzie while Mackenzie also regularly sees a professional counselor.
If you are the first person to hear a survivor’s story, like each of the above hearers, your response could very well dictate how the healing journey will be for that survivor. Will it contribute to the shame and blame or provide further hope and healing? Counselor Kiley spoke of how some Christians silenced survivors by blaming them or by using cliches like, “Well, God doesn’t give us more than you can handle.” Survivor Elizabeth experienced Christians who minimized her experience of sexual violence. Survivor Jade basically heard that she was to ignore her experiences of childhood sexual abuse when many said to her, “That happened a long time ago, Jade. That’s done now. It’s over.” In short, our response matters.
Verbal and bodily responses are critical because it takes two to tell a story. How the storyteller shares their story is dependent on how the storylistener is present and available to the storyteller. If the storylistener is distracted, the storyteller will skip over details. If the storylistener is attentive and focused, the storyteller will provide more components of the story. If the storylistener empathically reflects back phrases from the story, this validates the storyteller who becomes more willing to trust the storylistener and share more. This is key. Counselor Dayton explains of how congregants can be “a critical part” of survivors’ healing because congregations “can offer safe spaces and community.” These safe spaces and community are ways for survivors “to learn how to be safe with another person” and “how to begin to build trust.” This is significant because trust is one of the most monumental hurdles that trauma survivors confront.
Storylisteners must also realize that healing from sexual violence is not a tell-it-once-and-your-done healing but is more akin to a story. Healing from trauma is not linear, such as 1-2-3-4. It is chaotic, appearing more like tangled-up yarn. It goes in and out, backwards and forwards, up and around. Trauma has a way of erupting into the present, transporting one back into the past over and over and over. Stories are like that, too. How many stories begin in the present and then jump backwards to days, weeks, months, or years earlier? Similar to the repetitive nature of the movie Groundhog Day, the storylistener may hear portions of the survivor’s story again and again as the trauma pops up at unexpected times. This is normal. Rest assured healing movement is transpiring through the survivor’s repeated telling and your empathic listening.
As Christians, telling stories are not foreign to our faith but are an integral part of it. Many of us have learned the stories of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph. At Christmas and Easter, we repeatedly tell the story of Jesus’s birth and resurrection, respectively. We tell the story of the trauma of the cross each time we partake of the Lord’s Supper. Like stories of trauma, the Lord’s Supper includes elements of the past, future, and present. The Lord’s Supper is the telling of an event in the past, Jesus’s crucifixion and death (1 Cor. 11:23 says, “On the night which he was betrayed). It is also the telling of an event in the future, a time when all of creation will be healed (1 Cor. 11:26 states, “until he comes”). The Lord’s Supper is additionally the telling of the present. As we are reminded of the past and the future, it brings to the fore that we are in the present. We are continuing to live in a time with pain and suffering although Jesus is now glorified and we are now raised with Jesus Christ. The present may be called the middle, a place where we are wedged between the past and the future. It is the now-but-not-yet.
Thus, as the church comes together at the Table, we are participating in our ongoing longing and striving for healing as we wait for the new heaven and new earth. Christ has not yet returned, which means God’s promise to be “all in all” (15:28) is yet to be. As such, our partaking of the Lord’s Supper signifies that we are in mourning as we await the return of Jesus Christ. Like survivors of sexual violence, we too wait for healing. And like survivors, we too must tell this story again and again until all of us are healed. We tell the story of trauma, Jesus Christ’s crucifixion, until we are healed along with all of creation.
And so, we will tell the story of the cross again and again while listening to other stories of trauma again and again, all the while knowing that a day is coming when the story will not need to be told because all will be healed. Meanwhile . . . let us be still because . . .
Shh, a story is about to be told,
Lord, make me into an instrument of healing.
When a story is told,
Make me silent.
Rather than an advice giver,
Make me a listener.
Rather than telling,
Make me attentive.
Rather than an educator,
Cause me to hear.
Oh, Lord, make me into an instrument of healing.
As a story is about to be told.