Beth (Moore, but I feel like we are on to first names now) defines bondage as anything that keeps up from the life God has for us. Some of those things are small and some are big. Sometimes we break free pretty easily by connecting with the truth. Sometimes we fight long and hard for years to reclaim ourselves.
I lived with the effects of being mugged for a long time, mainly because I thought managing the effects day to day was the best I could hope for. At the time, I thought the first therapy I did was right for me, because I didn’t know what I could expect. I didn’t know there could be more. And somehow, living in dread of the next session made me think I was doing what I was supposed to, because I thought getting better was supposed to be hard.
Moving from bondage to freedom is often hard. But sometimes its harder than it needs to be. For almost a decade, I made it harder than it needed to be. Being mugged impacted my perspective about God, life and the world in ways that this treatment has nothing do to with, so there are some loose ends in that way. But the fear, the anything-could-be-a-threat-to-my-safety-at-any-time fear, just needed to be confronted with the end of a pointer.
Points of clarification: I am not saying that all therapy treatments are short, neat and tidy. I’m not saying that brain spotting is for everyone, even everyone with PTSD. I’m not saying a word about you, your story, and your healing, other than to say that I hope, dear friend, that you are supported and loved as you become more of who God made you to be.
I am saying that experiencing a match between what happened to me and the right kind of professional help was one of the clearest ways I have felt God’s love for me in a long time. And more than ever, I’m convinced that experiencing God’s love in a personal way is what God most wants for all of us.