June 23

Hush Until You Heal

Cast your burden on the Lord,
And He shall sustain you;
He shall never permit the righteous to be moved.  ––Psalm 55:22 NKJV

It was the end of a long day at the end of a long week. I poured myself into my car after several long, intense meetings, and managed to drive home without falling asleep from exhaustion. I felt like I’d been hurt, beaten up verbally and emotionally, and left bleeding internally from a series of difficult events.

That night I found myself berating the news anchor, then snapping at Chrissy over something trivial. She put me in my place and said, “You obviously had a bad day, and need to vent, but I don’t want to be the object of your anger.” She then quietly retreated to our bedroom. I’d like to say I immediately snapped out of it, but that didn’t really happen until the next day.

In one of those quiet moments when you’re just minding your own business, God whispered to me. The gist of it was: “When you are in a bad place, you hurt other people.” Ouch. And, of course, that was true. There’s an expression I’ve heard—particularly in the South—that pertains to that situation:

God wanted me to hush until I healed.

In other words, when I become emotionally or psychologically dysregulated or triggered, the best advice is to shut my mouth, get on my knees, and surrender the negative stuff to Him. Otherwise, I will just end up spewing my pain on to others like some sort of toxic nozzle turned to full. After all, we are either transformed by our pain, or we transmit it onto others.

You and I might call this process sanctification, while a psychologist might call it recovery or healing. It’s a process, and for me, it’s taken decades. What God’s taught me is that it’s best to vent to Him and a trusted group of brothers, instead of turning that anger on the world. To hush until I’m healed. To submit myself to His process—which is uncomfortable, painful, and usually, time-consuming.

But (and it’s a big but) … when we surrender our pain to Him, and make the conscious decision to submit to His recovery process, the dividends are incalculable. Why? Because as He heals us from our pain—from childhood trauma to adulthood betrayals and tragedies—He slowly transforms us more and more into Christ’s image.

From there? The outcome is articulated beautifully by the Apostle Paul:

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds through Christ Jesus. ––Philippians 4:7

Father, rather than taking my pain out on the people I love, help me to bring it to You and surrender it at Your altar. Take my pain and transform me into the person You want me to be.