Many of us are well aware of the fact that trauma changes us. Jesus saves and changes us as well. Trauma can be hopeless. Jesus is hopeful. Trauma can be crippling. Jesus brings peace.

I have always heard people say that this or that was traumatizing. “Trauma” is a word that seems to be used quite flippantly. To me, trauma has a deeper meaning. It’s not just a bad day or a negative situation. It’s a happening in life that changes us.

Two types of trauma that rear their ugly heads often are: physical trauma and emotional trauma. 

My own trauma came in waves with a five year gap. The second one most likely would have institutionalized me if the Lord hadn’t given me a six month break prior: a time of peace, before my son passed. 

During that break, I had enrolled my kids in a private Christian school. I was tackling all the house projects. I spent lots of time with the Lord. I actually felt bored at one point. God’s kindness allowed a season of rest in my life.

I remember experiencing some second hand emotional trauma as a foster parent and even more as an adoptive mom. So many things played a role in this season. As a foster mom, I remember with every phone call and child dropped off at our home my heart would break for the children. The road ahead was long and hard with each one of them. 

Our first foster child was a three month old little girl, she came so dirty and with such empty eyes! I remember a few months after having her I looked down at her one day and her eyes sparkled, they were no longer empty!  We experienced all her firsts, a long year of teaching her all the things. She brought us so much joy! 

Soon after her first birthday, she was to leave our home. I’ll never forget the look on her face as the caseworker took her from my arms. She cried and cried, yelling “mama!” She didn’t know I wasn’t her mother. We were all she had known for a year! I wept. My heart needed some major healing, she was my first foster child and I had much growing to do in the area of “this is not your child.”  I had trouble sleeping for three months after she left. The Lord continued reminding me that these children are not mine, they are His and He cares for them greater than I ever could.  I eventually found peace in that and as time moved on I gained a better understanding of my calling in foster care.

I remember the three year old and his eighteen month old sister. They had been to a few homes prior to ours and no one could get the little boy to eat. We worked with him and he eventually ate some blueberry yogurt. Oh,what a great day that was! We continued to make slow progress from there. He was an amazing kid! So wounded, though. He had fifty plus anxiety attacks a day. We loved on him, shared Jesus with him, and prayed with him. He eventually had no anxiety and spent much time with us playing and just being a kid! He gained health and healing during his time with us. The Lord saw him then and sees him now, and for that I am so thankful!

His sister was very malnourished, it was assumed she was a “crib baby.” We believe she was not fed properly. One day she ate raisins that she had already passed into her diaper. I was so sad for her. From that day forward I always provided a bowl of animal crackers next to her crib, as I never wanted her to feel that she wouldn’t have food again. She was a love! I remember the day that her eyes sparkled, too! That was always my favorite. She loved to dance and play with dolls. I’m forever thankful all our prayers will follow her forever!

I remember the three month old twins that were dropped off and laid on my living room floor. As the transporter rushed out I just stared at them not knowing which one to cuddle first. I had never had twins. I didn’t know how to handle this. I bathed them and got clean clothes on them. We got two of everything and learned quickly how to raise twins! 

There were others who came and went. Some have stayed forever. Knowing the physical and emotional trauma these kids had experienced, and also knowing they get sent back into the same situations for the most part, is hard on a foster parent’s heart. As you carry the burdens with and for them while they’re in your home, it causes a second hand type trauma in your own life. I had become easily overwhelmed, and I didn’t know what to do with those feelings.

The experience of trauma became even more real to me when our oldest son passed away. This time, trauma really, truly changed me. I remember the feelings that flooded in. At first, I didn’t associate them with trauma, I just knew I was changing. My world flipped upside down. 

There are still missing parts of that first year after he died. I’ve tried to remember certain situations and I just can’t. I remember shortly after his death my husband and I talked and wondered how we would walk through this, as we had seven other kids at home. One thing we knew we didn’t want them to say was… “when our brother died my mom and dad locked themselves away.” 

We wanted to walk through this as a family supporting each other. It was the absolute hardest time of our lives!! I was confused and frustrated, and I just wanted to get back to the old me. I felt alone, even when surrounded by my loving family and friends. 

I remember always feeling how kind the Lord was. The first year, even the first two were the most intense. It seems like there was a new realization every day. Realizing any future grandchildren died with him. Realizing we would never plan a wedding or congratulate him on buying his first home. My mind played so many games, thinking I’d hear him, or see him and then I’d be quickly slapped with the reality of that not being possible.  The grief waves were huge during that time. They still come and go but they don’t seem as big. We have found a new normal and there are areas we are continuing to heal in. We always will be walking out our journey and living in the reality of how trauma has changed us. 

Trauma Changes us and that’s okay. The Lord knows before we experience traumatic things. He is there and we can choose to draw near to Him. We each have our own story, and it makes us who we are. Our own personal situations are our real life, situations and seasons don’t need to be compared. My “real life” is no more important than yours. It saddens me when someone feels the need to put their burdens on the back burner as if it’s “less” important than someone else’s. The Lord allows us each to walk through what we can handle through His guidance and grace.

Trauma changed me. It changed how I think and act. It has caused anxiety and seasons of questioning. I had thoughts of wanting to be back to my “normal self”. I questioned if God was for us. I chose forward motion. At times it was slow, and sometimes mere baby steps. I chose to press into the Lord, sometimes with the little that I had.  

Today I choose to use my trauma as a testimony. I want to share God’s grace and goodness to others through my trying experiences. The key for me, when going through traumatic experiences, or facing “aftershocks” is to take it one day at a time.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”

Psalm 147:3