I think coincidences are exceedingly rare. Most of the peculiar things that happen to us are begging to be unpacked for the symbolism, messages, and questions they hide.
Let me give you my latest example. I’ve been reading Bessel van der Kolk’s famous book on trauma studies, “The Body Keeps the Score.” You’ve probably heard of it, maybe even read it yourself. It’s arguably the most widely read and cited mental health book in existence.
In a single moment, years of trauma and heartache just lifted like fog that evaporates under a warm sun.
If you haven’t read it, here’s a summary: Trauma (i.e., exposure to violence, abuse, horror, tragedy, etc.) deeply impacts us at the neurological and physical levels. This is even more true in childhood when the brain and body are still in their fragile developmental states. Once a trauma occurs, it fractures us psychologically. We interact with the world differently because our brains process stimuli differently. This causes a sprawling range of difficulties — behavioral disorders, physical ailments, relational issues, and beyond. If we want to function in society, we have to undergo specific types of treatment that target the trauma we’ve suffered. Medication is rarely a long-term solution because it treats symptoms, not the underlying trauma.
As I was picking my way through the book, I found myself nodding along vigorously.
I hate what Big Pharma greed has done to traumatized people — pushing them through the health care system like numbered cattle, pumping them full of ineffective medications that have six side effects for every symptom they treat, all while growing fat on the billions of dollars the mental health care industry rakes in annually. No healing; just numbing.
Every chapter in my copy has tear-stained pages marking the stories of men brutalized by combat, children despised by their own parents, young girls repeatedly raped by male relatives, and little boys abused in secret by priests.
However, the majority of the people covered in the book were able to process and move beyond their traumas with the assistance of trained doctors who led them through eye movement desensitization and reprocessing, somatic therapies, neuro-feedback, and play-based and creative therapies, among other types of treatment.
It takes years, commitment, and incredible patience for a traumatized individual to regain a sense of normalcy, albeit a scarred one.
I found myself celebrating these therapies that target the root causes of people’s suffering, applauding van der Kolk and his colleagues for their devotion to researching and developing treatments that have seen suicidal individuals come to enjoy life again, children learn how to trust again, and people drowning in shame accept that the abuse they suffered wasn’t their fault.
“Why can’t all facets of medicine have this approach?” I thought.
The night
About midway through my reading of this book, however, my parents hosted an event at their house for a family of missionaries they’ve become friends with.
Once a year, Nic, his wife Rachael, and their four children return to the United States from Brazil, where they run an incredible ministry for abused women and girls, many of whom are entrenched in prostitution. For a few days, they host small gatherings at friends’ homes. People are invited to come, worship, and hear the beautiful stories of their ministry.
This year, since my parents were hosting, I attended the event. I know for next year to avoid wearing mascara. I was a sniffling, smudgy mess by the time I got in my car to drive home.
The stories I heard broke my heart, but I expected them, too. I was familiar with the ministry before I attended the event, so precious little girls sold into prostitution rings by their own families and young women who have no hope other than what profits their bodies might yield in a night were exactly the stories I expected to hear.
What I did not expect to hear, however, were the stories of miraculous and often instantaneous healings. Nic and his wife shared stories of traumatized girls, many of them still children, who heard the gospel message, hit their knees, and rose completely different people.
One girl who came to their ministry was physically deformed from horrors they thankfully spared us. She was hunched over, refused to make eye contact, voluntarily mute, and utterly terrified of physical touch. One day during a worship session, in which she stood silently in the back of the room, she suddenly fell to the floor and began violently trembling. A few moments passed, and she stood back up. But this time she stood upright. Her hips, which had turned inward, were suddenly straight and aligned. Her spine was no longer hunched. She looked Rachael in the eyes and said, “He is so beautiful.”
She was healed — in body and in spirit. Her life from that point forward was marked by joy.
Many other similar stories were shared, of girls who came to the ministry hardened from abuse and suffering transformed into radiant, confident people after hearing the good news of what Jesus did for them on the cross. Adopted into His family as beloved daughters, suddenly the horrors of their past lost their grip, the fear that once consumed them dried up, the shame that suffocated them dissipated, and they walked into new life, eager to share His saving grace with others.
In a single moment, years of trauma and heartache just lifted like fog that evaporates under a warm sun.
My favorite story was of one young girl (I think she was around 10 years old) who was rescued out of prostitution among other horrors and introduced to Jesus. Like the others I described, His gift of redemption radically transformed her.
One day, a missionary from a different ministry visited the girls’ home. She asked this young one to share her testimony. Smiling, the girl started listing her hobbies and favorite things.
The missionary stared at her, perplexed and disappointed. She wanted to know the girl’s past — what slum she’d come from, what heinous things she’d suffered before she was introduced to Jesus. “No, I mean what happened to you?” she urged.
In one of the most beautifully childlike responses I’ve ever heard, the girl sweetly replied, “Oh, that doesn’t matter any more. I’ve been made new.”
The lesson
I couldn’t sleep when I got home that night. The stories I had just heard were strikingly similar to the case studies I was reading about in my book.
But unlike van der Kolk’s patients, it didn’t take years of therapy, hospital stays, and repeated dark nights of the soul for these Brazilian girls to recover from their traumas. The Spirit fell on their hearts and did in a moment what intense psychological intervention takes ages to accomplish.
And they didn’t just recover enough to function in society. They transformed from the inside out into joyful, loving girls who worship with their hands lifted high, pray bold prayers for the healing of their sisters, and smile with the confidence of those who know they are loved fiercely and unconditionally.
This is the power of Jesus. Do we believe it?
I knew when I went home that night that I had repenting to do. Yes, I believed that God could heal any brokenness, but I didn’t necessarily believe that he would. I had placed too much hope in modern therapy, believing it was the best lifeline for traumatized people.
I had forgotten that my God was, is, and will always be a healer — the one who created the danger-sensing amygdala, the rational prefrontal cortex, the hormone-regulating hypothalamus, and the delicate neuro-pathways that can make or break a distressed individual. He crafted and commands what science has labored ages to grasp. He can restore a traumatized brain to homeostasis in a single, sacred moment.
And He does. Regularly. In Brazil, in Nigeria, in India, and yes, even here in the United States.
But how many more of these miraculous healings would happen if we believed that the gospel is more powerful than our best therapy programs?
Nic and Rachael aren’t doctors; they have no formal training in psychoanalysis, neuroscience, or psychology. And yet they’ve seen more traumatized people heal in the 15 years their ministry has been operating than most therapists see in their careers.
This is the power of Jesus. Do we believe it?
I don’t mean to suggest that therapy is worthless — quite the opposite. I remain grateful for the various branches of science that have led to the development of treatment regimens for traumatized people. For the hurting, secular individual, I’m thankful there are resources. Perhaps a gentle, patient therapist will be their first taste of true kindness and serve as a precursor to the Jesus they’ll meet at a future date. Perhaps it will just make life livable again. In either case, I’m grateful.
I’m also thankful therapy exists for traumatized Christians. I have benefited from therapy, as have many of my friends and family members. Sometimes God heals the terminal cancer patient when his loved ones hit their knees in prayer; sometimes He does it through months of chemotherapy. Except unlike bodily ailments, which He may choose not to heal on this side of heaven, we are guaranteed healing for our broken hearts, which often present as traumatized brains.
In Psalm 34:18, we are told that “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
He may choose to mend our crushed spirits through therapy, but I’m betting we’d see more of the miraculous healings Nic and Rachael witness in Brazil if we truly believed He’s as powerful and good as He says He is — far surpassing even our best therapy programs.
The ‘coincidence’
When I picked up “The Body Keeps the Score,” it was dusty. I’d bought it a while ago after hearing the hype, shoved it in my ever-expanding bookcase, and forgotten about it. But one day when I was writing an article about America’s mental health epidemic, I plucked it from the shelf and started reading it.
You can’t convince me that it’s mere coincidence that I was nose-deep in this sciencey book at the same time I was wrecked by the stories of these Brazilian girls.
No, this was the hand of God, beautifully knitting the tapestry of my personal choices with His plan, reminding me that our best efforts to remedy what’s broken may be valiant, intelligent, and even effective, but only His touch can heal a shattered heart in a single, glorious moment.
If all believers carried this truth in their hearts, can you imagine the miracles we’d see?
My heart burns at the mere thought.
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