“How could I be so selfish?” I thought.
A ritual between my mom and I was for her to offer me a stick of gum but she would rip one in half. One for her and one for me. When the guilt and shame came over me, I realized that I never thought of my dear mother. She was so selfless to me all her life and I, on this occasion, hadn’t thought of her.
As simple and odd as this little horror may sound, it stuck in my mind like a randomly remembered sliver of food between a couple of my back teeth. There was never anything that could bring resolve to it. Why, on God’s green earth was this so painful? Why wouldn’t it go away?
Many years later—probably 30—while in a worship setting during a support group training, the Holy Spirit brought this memory into full view. Rather than deal with the pain in a way that would make sense to anyone, He had a deeper matter to address.
The Backstory
I’m guessing here, but when I was probably 4 years old, my brothers and I were with dad while he was mending fence. Not directed to any of us, but when something didn’t go as he planned, he used the word “stupid” to vent his frustration. I didn’t know it then, but Satan, seeing an opportunity caused this word to pierce my mind like an arrow. As the days and years unfolded, the pain of this wound became directed toward my dad and any males like him.
I’ll stop that part of this story there, but you are welcome to read my full testimony on this page of my website (https://www.josephthiessen.me/about-me).
Follow this detachment from my dad with the over-attachment with my mother. Although she too disciplined me, she became my friend, and I hers. My siblings didn’t know it, because they were older, but my mom became so ill that every day when I came home from school, she was in bed trying to sleep off a migraine. She complained often how poorly she felt. Our ritual of her sharing her gum with me symbolized a selfless, loving gesture between us.
The detachment from dad and the growing anger with him and the open pain, and private complaints I heard from mom about their relationship formed me into a wedge that sided against my dad in their relationship. Rather than causing fights, I quietly took up for her in private. I regarded her more highly than I did him. In her presence, I tried to deduce what kind of healing path dad should take in their marriage.
Fast forward to some 20 years ago at that training, the Holy Spirit strongly told me that I had put myself in between them and this was a grave error to His design for family. It was like he shook me, very lovingly, and told me to repent and restore the order He had created. Upon my return home, I had a meeting with mom and dad where I told them the memory and how the wounds of life got me to where I had placed myself between them and their covenant with each other. I asked for forgiveness and declared that, with God’s help, I would no longer advise them. I reminded dad that he had made a covenant with his wife and that, unless asked for, I had no say in the course of their decisions/needs.
They forgave me. And God helped me with my repentance as I kept my distance regarding decisions they alone needed to make. It was hard to watch because dad tends toward passivity, and mom in her illness was fearful and indecisive. As the proverb goes, all this was helpful in “cutting the apron strings” and enabling me to grow into the healthy man I’m still becoming.
Back to the Present
I recently shared this story with a new friend. Then today, just 2 days later, God met me in a powerful way to bring the healing of this painful memory deeper still.
Recently, I signed up for a support group and one week later, on Sunday morning I took some time to finish the lesson on Hello Childhood. In the homework, I took a photo of myself from kindergarten or first grade and spent time thinking about his life and what was important to him back then. God met me in this exercise in that I was able to have compassion for the kid who was already unjustly wounded and trying to make sense of the world around him.
About an hour later, I heard a great sermon on Psalm 32. My church believes the gifts of the Spirit not only haven’t gone away but they are needful for the edifying of the Church. Well today something amazing was spoken from the pulpit. As the pastor was transitioning from his sermon to let the worship team lead, he offered a few examples of what God may want to bring healing in. The last words went something like this, “…even a stick of gum, if that’s what God wants to talk to you about.”
Sitting next to the friend I had shared this story with, I turned to him, and he laughed with me, agreeing that was a fascinating statement knowing my story.
What progressed from there was Father assuring me that he had given, and would continue to, give me a full stick of gum. Jesus didn’t share His life with me. He gave it completely. Even blessings in this life are for me in the fullest sense. There would be no half-blessings. The healing brought by these words washed over each lie of shame and guilt from over 40 years ago! I wept, I praised, and I pondered each wonderful Word of deliverance during that worship session!
Not only was God interested in seeing that young man be independent from his parents, He wanted little Joseph (named Cory back then) to know that Father God has lots of healing for him and more to come. Each word of promise seemed to extend to me from Father’s hand like that stick of gum from the postman. What once was a painful memory has at once turned into a reminder of God’s great compassion and healing!
Filled with God’s peace and joy, as I walked to my car, a brief fear washed over me. Sometimes when I share meaningful things like this with people, they don’t understand the depth and meaning of it, or they question parts of it making me feel like it wasn’t really that important.
Then again, over lunch, as my friend was sharing what God had been doing in her life, God assured me that the full stick He gives me can never be ripped in half and stolen. Other’s words or attention may make it feel like it’s not worth anything, but God assured me, that their words have no effect on diminishing (halving) His ability to bring my unique healing to pass.