octobers
If you’ve ever opened instagram or looked at Pinterest during the autumn I can guarantee that you have seen a photo of girls laughing in a pumpkin patch (or apple orchard or corn maze, pick your poison) paired with the caption “I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”
sweaters, falling leaves, hot drinks, trees dressed to the nines in glowing oranges, reds and yellows, the joyful anticipation of the holidays, pumpkin becoming a staple in nearly every recipe…it’s an all around good time. we love it, we Pinterest it, we live for it.
in my case though, fall is known much more for it’s bad than it’s good.
fall has long been a dreaded season symbolizing pain and cold, dark, endless nights.
the kind of nights where you have to keep a light on, just to remind yourself that light exists.
for years fall felt like the loneliest, darkest season I could imagine, and one I could barely endure. at least winter brought the promise of spring.
it was in my darkest fall that that the mess of my life was exposed.
it was in my darkest fall that I felt like my entire identity slipped into a coma.
it was in my darkest fall that I was confronted with the reality that I didn’t truly know if this God I called Father truly loved me or saw me.
the outcome?
crippling loneliness.
startling clarity.
it was in my darkest fall that my abuse was brought to light and at the end of my abuse I found an absolute lack of trust that the Lord cared for me, or defended me, or protected me.
the invisibility of abuse goes all the way up the ladder and leaves you feeling that you are so lacking in value that even if the Lord saw what happened, He had no time to be bothered.
thus began a cycle of dread and fear and survival rather than joyful anticipation.
even in the years after my abuse — after I had truly worked through it, truly forgiven, truly let go, truly begun the long hike to healing and restoration, I still didn’t view the Lord as a protector.
early in the process He redeemed many of my misconceptions of Him; He helped me to see Him as kind and good and sovereign and loving…but “defender” and “protector” didn’t exist in my vocabulary for God.
certainly, theologically, I could speak to God’s nature/character as a fierce warrior, as a righteous defender, as a capable protector, I could point to countless stories in the Bible that claimed Him as just that, but in my personal experience of God and of trauma those things were neither felt nor believed.
and He let me sit there.
in a beautiful, condescending mercy He allowed me to see Him as so much less than He is.
that is to say that He let me sit there until He didn’t.
until His stillness turned to action and called me to see Him for more: to see Him as He is rather than how He felt to me in that moment.
”it’s time” He spoke, “it’s time to know me as your protector.”
and by a miracle of grace, I said “ok”.
and when did this call come?
in October.
despite my predisposition, despite my bias, despite my wounds, despite my fear, the Lord started me on a journey to meet Him as my defender.
the journey from that October to this October has not been simple or comfortable. it has been challenging and refining and vulnerable. it has hurt and i’ve cried more than i’ve probably ever cried in my life.
we don’t need a defender or protector unless their is risk involved. unless there is something to be defended from, protected against. and truly this past year has created a chasm in my life that only a perfect protector can fill. in His perfect love He has led me through uncharted waters of vulnerability in order that I might obediently step into deeper, fuller, truer knowledge of the Holy.
in the last 12 months this has never been easy, but it has gotten easier.
trusting Him didn’t feel safe at first, but it is feeling safer.
opening my self to hurt and disappointment and the absolute TERROR that is vulnerability (too dramatic? idk) has been deeply uncomfortable, but I am daily finding greater comfort in releasing the need to shield myself from any perceived threat. daily realizing that it is better to sink into His protection than attempt to conjure it myself.
and as the fear of being unprotected, of being vulnerable, of being unseen and undefended began to loosen and lessen, the most amazing thing happened.
subsequently my dread of October not just melted away, but wholly and completely disappeared.
it was no longer even a thought in my mind.
why fear the fall when I know that I have a protector on my side who sees me and loves me and fights for me, even when I can’t see it…especially when I can’t see it?
I think of Christ on the cross, never had anyone and never again will anyone be so defenseless, so vulnerable, so unprotected. And He joyfully endured it that I may step in the perfect, inexplicable protection of the Lord.
suddenly disappointment or vulnerability or weakness or failure don’t feel scary, but instead feel like an opportunity to the Lord fight on my behalf and an opportunity to love Him as my protector.
no longer must I steel myself against every “threat” — instead I get to rest knowing that the Creator of the Universe stands as my defense. The One who sees does not fail; this perfect protector cannot fail.
October leads to January which leads to April.
and in the same way my trauma led to my darkness which led to His light.
It’s a beautiful thing to be able to say that I now am truly happy to live in a world where there are Octobers, not because of the changing leaves or the reintroduction of sweaters to my wardrobe, but because of the reminders that life can be revived out of even the deepest of deaths and light can be cast into the darkest of nights.
Leaves have to fall off of trees to make room for new growth, for rebirth, the old must die before the new can be born. And in the same way, am I.
The death in me had to die and that had to start somewhere.
The long, dark, shadowy nights paved the way for a life lived in the light.
may we all be so fortunate to “live in a world where there are Octobers.”