So yeah, 100 pages down. Doesn't sound like much, but it's further than I've ever made it in this book. And I know there are things I've missed, so I'll be going back and rereading a lot. The quotes I shared seem to center around two related ideas. Ideas that feel central to my behavior and thought patterns but put into words that I could never find. When Allander writes of the hatred and mistrust that the abused person feels toward their own desire for intimacy, he really hits something huge for me. It stems from being abused by someone who was meant to be a nurturing role in my life, in my case my stepfather, and instead, betrayed that role for sinful actions. That alone creates a distrust in people who mean us good and that makes sense. Even more than that, victims blame themselves for desiring a nurturing relationship and responding to that attention, emotionally, physically, etc. There's an abundance of guilt for not stopping it. It takes an overwhelming amount of effort to view the abuse as, not just the sinful act that it was, but as a result of a sinner in a spiritual battle. One that he lost and where there are horrible repercussions, but not where I was a silent accomplice. Effort that I confess I don't have most of the time. The wounds go so deep that the abused person develops an inherent distrust in people and, even worse but true, a self-hatred of our yearning for a vulnerable, intimate relationship. I can relate to that more than I would ever want to admit. What more of an intimate, molding, safe relationship should there be for a boy than his father? What more intimate of a relationship are we made to seek than one with the Father? It's hard for me to define a relationship in those terms based on my experiences with fathers. It makes sense to me that I've always approached relationships cautiously. My thoughts range from "How can I best squash or change myself-who I am, what I like, what I feel and think and need and want?" to "How can I starve those things and become exactly what someone else needs or wants?" or "I'm not good enough for this person to like me." This both creates an artificial connection and protects me. By adopting a disdain for my yearning for connection and an expectation of either abuse by others or not good enough for them, I have stepped away from many true connections. By assuming someone else doesn't really want to get to know me, but only wants something from me or abuse me, I end up becoming an abuser of myself and by extension that potential relationship. I struggle with a stronghold of condemnation. That could also easily be translated to me finding it impossible to accept grace. That grace is not for me. I seem predisposed to taking every awful thing I've done or that has happened to me and seeing it as something I directly deserve and/or specific punishment from God. It's not that I can't see where Satan would want me to doubt God's love and would exert power to convince me of such things. I guess the abuse makes it easier to believe the opposite? I mean, where did the abuse come from? It's easier for me to think that God sent the abuse to me because of some punishment or, even worse, because He hated me, than to think that I was conveniently in the wrong place at the wrong time and God wept for the sin and my abuse. It's that mindset of condemnation that's colored so much of my life and I've worked so hard to hide it. But God doesn't want to curse me. He wants to bless me. He loves me. And I want that too. Pair my human sinful nature with an emotional pattern of despising the need for intimate relationship, and it's easy to see that there are huge obstacles facing my relationship with God. Obstacles that can only be overcome by the Father. My Father. I have to run to Him. To trust Him and ask Him to do what He does best: the impossible.
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