Saved from the Pit (and Philip Seymour Hoffman)

I have experienced a very odd phenomenon this week whilst reading a book. It's a novel aimed at young adults about a difficult subject matter, and in the book the main character (a teenage girl) has a very difficult relationship with her parents. Because of something that happened beyond the character's control, her parents not only distrust her, but also show a sense of dislike towards her too, even though she is going through a ridiculously difficult time.

There I was, happily reading away, thinking how well written it was, when I suddenly felt tears welling up inside. I often read in bed, and my husband is pretty much always asleep when I read, so I was able to keep it to myself and have a silent blub.

The next night, as I read on and her situation with her parents grew worse, I started to cry again. And it happened again last night and this morning, as I read.

I have spent some time asking God what is going on.

I feel it's because I identify with the character. The girl is misunderstood and so very heartbreakingly alone. Her father wants nothing more than to distance himself from her and almost forget her very existence. Her mother cannot understand, wants to help but doesn't know how (and honestly doesn't try very hard - she has no empathy whatsoever) and also ends up alienating her. And the girl is left alone to deal with it all herself.

When I was hurt as a child, and then rebuffed by (I felt) both parents, it was like a huge, gaping, black chasm opened up in my soul. It was an almost endless pit of darkness. It was hurt and sadness and all that was bad. It was 'alone'.

Every now and again over the years the chasm would rear it's head, through depression, through illness, through various things. Slowly over the years God has healed the chasm and it has shrunk. Sometimes I don't even know that it's there at all.This week as I have read it's like an electrical circuit being completed and the story has connected me with what's left of the pit.

I am that girl.

As I have cried this week I have wept not just for what happened to me, but for the devastation it left. I cry for the years of loneliness. For the abandonment. For all of it. And as I have wept, I have without realising, been letting it go.

I can, of course, choose to hold onto the darkness. After all I have known it for so long that it is very familiar to me. But I feel that if I choose to do that, my arms will be full and I will never be able to hold what God has for me. Good things. Lightness and brightness. A future. And a hope. (See Jeremiah 29: 11).

What happened to me was wrong, how I was left was devastating. But I can finally see now that it was their problem, not mine. It was not my fault. I don't know why it happened (and maybe never will). But I do believe that not just good things, but great things will happen as a result (Romans 8: 28, Genesis 50: 20).

I am not daft, I recognise that there will be more healing ahead. I still get a bit angry about it at times and walking in forgiveness sometimes hits a bumpy bit. But I am not where I was. Not by a long shot. He has rescued me from the pit (Psalm 40: 2).

Now I can choose to let it go, or hold onto it. I can be a victim, or victorious. I can be pitiful or powerful, as God said to Joyce Meyer. I cannot be both.

Though it is hard, and an act of will, I choose the latter. I will not allow what the devil meant for my harm to torture me any more. It was not my fault. I am not responsible, but I am responsible for how I react and I choose to be healed and to move on. I am letting go. And hopefully I pray that I might be able to offer comfort to those who suffer in the way (2 Corinthians 1: 4).

I am also trusting God to come in and fill the gaps that the pain has left behind. And as He said to me once, I believe He is completely trustworthy.

Funny, and I thought I was just reading a novel. I guess God can find you anywhere (Psalm 139: 7).

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I would like to add as a post-script a note about Philip Seymour Hoffman. As an avid film watcher I have enjoyed his movies for years. He was a talented and gifted man. And I feel perhaps also another individual with a chasm in his life of his own.

Like so many celebrities before him, who seem to have it all, there is clearly still something missing. Something that they try to fill with drugs and alcohol and other, often harmful or lethal, addictions.

After so many great performance it is heartbreaking to think that he will probably be remembered for the way he died.

I truly believe, having known God at work in my own life, that the only solution to this blackness, these chasms, that so often present themselves in people's lives, is the saving work of Jesus and the love of God. They are the only things that can bring freedom and healing. His love is the antidote to our pain and the human condition. He is near to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34: 18).

I pray for Mr Hoffman's family, dealing with the devastation and I pray for all those who have their own personal darkness, that God would bring them the love, comfort and light that they so desperately need.

In Him