In Church

TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual Abuse

I saw a guitar and thought of you.

When you used to play your guitar

the tension in my body lessened.

Either because you made beautiful music or because it meant your hands were occupied.

Better to caress the strings of a guitar than the skin of your daughter.

Better to play with the body of your instrument than to play with my body.

I saw a guitar and then

the memories followed.

No longer of you making music,

but now of you making your way

into my pants.

I stood in church as people around me sang praises to God.

I didn’t sing.

The Story Behind the Poem

This is obviously a very sensitive poem. It immediately evokes a lot of emotion and it is short but effective. I remember this moment like it was yesterday, though it was years ago.

We went to church that Sunday, just like we always did. I couldn’t tell you what was going on in my life exactly at this time, though I can tell you it involved PTSD and working through loads of trauma. I think it was a year, to a year and a half after I first started facing the abuse I had been through.

I may have been having an off day, I may have already been in a sensitive state that morning. I couldn’t tell you why on that specific day I was triggered in church, or why the flashbacks to my dad and his guitar invaded my mind at that specific moment. Something like that had never happened to me in church during worship.

Worship was normally an escape from flashbacks and triggers. It was a time when I focused on God and His faithfulness in my life. A time where I cried out to Him in honesty—some days that meant thankfulness and praise, some days it meant agony and heartache. That day, that day was different. For the first time in my born-again life, I could not sing to the Lord in church.

I saw that guitar on the stage and my mind bounced back to memories from years of growing up: my dad sitting at the kitchen island singing songs and playing his guitar. As I walked down the stairs, I would hear him strumming, it meant I was safe.

I loved listening to him play. I may not have known why I loved those jam sessions at the moment, but now I know it was because he couldn’t touch me while he was playing his guitar. I would have liked to think it was because he was a great musician, which he was, but that really wasn’t why.

That morning at church, I saw that guitar on stage and then my mind went back to the image of one of my dad’s hands on the neck of his guitar, and the other with a pick in his fingers. Then the scene slowly changed to those times without that guitar, where his hands were free to touch me. Standing there in church while everyone praised the Lord, I saw images of my dad abusing me. How was I supposed to sing?

I’d like to take this chance to share a little bit about trauma responses for those of you that may not know what it is like yourself. This is one of those things that some people will just never be able to understand. If you don’t have experience with sexual trauma, you couldn’t know the fear you feel in those moments, but I would love to try to help you understand so that you can better love and have more compassion for those people who have to deal with these moments.

People who have gone through trauma can be triggered by so many different things, words, sounds, smells, images, or physical interactions. You feel so helpless in those situations because your body reacts in a way that you cannot control.

Your body keeps the score of the trauma you have been through. Even if you don’t consciously keep track of it or you aren’t aware of it, your body will recognize those things that once meant danger or harm, and it goes into freeze, fight, or flight mode.

My response to trauma has always been to freeze or dissociate. If you don’t know what dissociate means, I will try to explain it just a bit. It basically means you are disconnected from your thoughts, memories, surroundings, actions, and identity. You feel detached from your environment, the people around you, and your body.

This response and the freeze response are basically the opposite of fight or flight. You don’t defend yourself, and you don’t run. This is actually a very common response to abuse or danger, though it feels like the exact opposite of what you want to do. I guess it was my body’s way of trying to protect me—though it never did me much good.

When I am triggered, I tend to go back into those modes of freezing and dissociating because my body takes me back to those traumatic events. That morning in church, without being able to control it, I froze. I wanted to be anywhere but there. I  couldn’t speak, I definitely couldn’t sing, and if I was able to, I wouldn’t have wanted to.

I will be the first to say that the Lord is always worthy of our praise, that He is always good, and that He never wavers or changes. But I will also be the first to say that there are times when it is just gut-wrenchingly hard to praise Him. When it seems impossible to acknowledge His goodness and faithfulness. This was one of those times for me.

Not because it was God’s fault that I was abused. Not because I was angry at Him for what my dad did. Not because I blamed Him for the fact that I was triggered and struggling with flashbacks. But simply because I was hurting so deeply. Simply because I couldn’t see past the fear and violation running through my mind.

When people struggle to praise the Lord, when they can’t get their voice to sing to Him or even to cry out in distress—don’t be so quick to judge them. Don’t question their faith or their devotion to God. In those moments, you should try to understand their pain. Try to feel their hurt and sorrow, to mourn with them.

Instead of looking down on them, join them in their valley—because God is there with them too. God isn’t just present on the mountain top, for the victories, for the praising and joy. God is there with us in the mess, in the dark, and in hopeless situations. He cares about our hurting and our struggling.

I believe that God saw me that morning in church when I couldn’t sing. He saw beneath my frozen, dissociated expression. He saw past my emotionless eyes and my closed mouth. He knew exactly what I was feeling and exactly what I was thinking. He met me there. He joined me in the valley and allowed me the time and space to mourn and hurt.

We are not heartless, painless, perfect beings meant to mindlessly lift our hands in praise to God. There will be times when we struggle to praise God, when we feel like it is impossible. We are also meant to praise God through our struggles and even amidst our pain, but of course, there are times when we can’t, and God meets us there too because He is a gracious and compassionate God.

I don’t know what you are going through, but I can tell you that God cares deeply about you. Not only does He care, but He knows you and He knows every detail of your pain and your joy, of your laughter and your mourning, your anger and your kindness, your love and your hatred—He knows you. He wants to meet you exactly where you are if you will let Him.

I also want you to know that it is okay to struggle. It’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to be confused. It’s okay to ask questions. It’s okay to fail. This life we live is a difficult one, one that no one goes through easily or gets through unscathed. If you have been through trauma or abuse, that is a whole other layer of suffering. I hope you know that in this process, in this struggling, there is healing and progress on its way.

I share these experiences with you to offer you the assurance that you are not alone. There are (unfortunately) many people who can relate to your pain and suffering, and we are all trying to find our way. I also share this with you to offer you hope that there is a God who loves you and wants to be in a relationship with you. That no matter how broken you are, He can repair you and bring healing. I hope that these blog posts offer insight to those of you who have no personal experience with trauma or abuse. Love those people around you that have been through those things, because it is not easy and we need your support. Thanks for showing up,

-Elena ❤