The Agony of Post-Traumatic Stress

 

It wells up inside of me like a beast that wants out and screams and roars in agony. All I want is relief from the deafening growls, relief from the shaking cage as it throws itself against the bars again and again. The crashing, the chaos, the noise, the pressure. The beast wants out, just let it out,

But do I dare unlock the door? Do I dare release a creature that will hurt others with the magnitude of agonizing pain? Do I dare enter the cage? Is it actually a minion of the Deceiver, a demon that pretends to be in pain, so that when it is released, as soon as the bar is lifted, as soon as the lock is sprung, as soon as the door is opened, it can inflict pain on others?

How do I drive it away when it takes control every time? Day and night, I suppress it. I am weary, confused, crushed, the inner battle unseen, yet those whom I love are safe as long as they stay at arms’ length.

The beast lashes out, and I run into the night. I can’t drive it away, so I bring it with me, away from those I love, away from questions I can’t answer, away from misunderstanding and loneliness. I run away from the glow of a happy home to a place where helplessness, hurt, and torment are within and not on the outside too. I weep as I stumble, adrenaline finally spent, the cool grass anchors my feet to sounds of the night. Looking upward, the glow of the moon causes me to pray for help, for God’s presence to drive the beast away again.

And He answers.

Morning dawns, and the beast is asleep when I awake. My heart is troubled. How could something so powerful now seem so small? How could something so painful now look harmless? I saw it, heard it, felt it, yet it sleeps sweetly, and I feel like I’m insane. What do I do? Who do I talk to? Where do I go?

Silence, frail heart. Silence, my soul. You think too small. You’re looking inward instead of upward. You think you need answers but ask the wrong questions. Who is on your side? Who fights for you? Who will never leave you nor forsake you? Who has conquered the crushing weight of sin and the grave? What can separate you from the love of Christ? Where does your help come from?

Faith, frail heart. Faith, my soul. The beast can roar and disturb your soul, but its roar is that of hunger, and frustration when your wounds are healed, mended, repaired by Another. The beast delights when your tears flow, and rages when Jesus catches every single one. You are rescued by a better Master, and the beast screams against the chains that hold it. It wants to control you again. You ran into familiar darkness, but who had the last word? This Word heard you and showed mercy and brought you home again.

O wretched mess that I am! Who will set me free from this beast?

Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! The beast may raise its ugly head, but its time is short. Pain from a painful world, groaning under the curse, but someday – oh, glorious day! – God’s grace will set me free forever from this torment.

Romans 8:35-39, Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or trouble, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? Just as it is written: “For Your sake we are killed all day long; we were regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.” But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Not even the beast of post-traumatic stress can separate me from such love.