Today, God delivered me from another one of my painful baggage in my life.
Let me take you from the beginning of how I ended up in social work.
Some time when I was in my late adolescence, I started to be aware of my desire (or calling) to be in a helping profession. The desire grew partly out of a challenging childhood, it also grew out of a sense of fulfilment whenever I can help others work through their own struggles too.
You see, my father was an absent parent in my growing up years. My parents divorced when I was young, and my contact with my father became like a twice-to-thrice a year meet up. So when my father passed away abruptly, I was deeply shocked. Because of my dad's wrongdoings, nobody in the family spoke about losses and pain. There was an unarticulated undertone of "good riddance", "good that he left" that I sensed from my family. As such, loss and sadness became a taboo, an emotion that must be tucked away. I felt alone in my grief, I felt displaced in my grief. As a youth with limited coping mechanisms, I also felt extremely guilty about his death. I felt guilty about feeling relieved about his death, I felt guilty that I was actually happy to receive insurance payouts.
Then I plunged into another ten years of emotional black hole, frequently experiencing emotional short-circuit when the surge of negative feelings was so intense that the fuse broke. My friends may recall me going to school in a half-daze. I felt dissociated from my body and mind, I would curl up my lips when people are laughing, and knit my eyebrows when people are in trouble.
Maybe social work came into picture when my rational mind concluded that instead of feeling bad about myself, I should put my experiences to good use by supporting those who go through similar struggles. Instead of feeling sad that no one spoke to me about these pains, maybe I will find meaning in talking to others about their pains. As the saying goes, do not do unto others what you wouldn't like others to do unto you. Likewise, do unto others what you would like others to do unto you.
So that was a compelling cause that propelled me into the profession, to provide a kind of support that I wished was available to me when I was younger. It was a relatively happy marriage with my career. In my 2nd year into the profession, I was called upon by God and received what I considered a miraculous healing of my heart and soul. Since God spoke to me that day, he gave me the answers I was looking for, and I was delivered from my past baggage. Subsequently, God worked in me to see his purposes for the trials and tribulations that he placed on me, and I was gradually able to experience the real joy that He meant to give us.
But better than I expected, God had in mind a plan to also grant me the desire to release me from the shadows of my past and fill it with his light.
Today during my on-call duty, I was called back to attend to an ICU case. The patient was not doing well, and the family had to break the news to the young children, on top of making a difficult care decision.
During my session, as I was getting one of the children to talk about her fears towards her father's possible death, she started weeping because she can't imagine life without her father. And unexpectedly, I found myself tearing a little too. I assured her that it's alright to cry, it's alright to grieve. Death, to a child, translates to eternal separation - the fear of never being able to survive on your own, the fear of permanent abandonment. Some people may argue that it is not helpful for the therapist to tear with the client, but for me I felt it communicated that I feel her pain and fears.
I encouraged her to talk as much to her father now as she can. She spoke about how she loves her father, how she will miss him, how she will study hard, how she will look after her family. Often, talking to the patient may not be as significant for the patient, as it does for the grieving party. The griever needs to let out of all his/her thoughts and feelings so that they can be achieve emotional catharsis and eventually closure. It is a way to say goodbye, in faith that it will be heard by the dying person. Finally, we spoke about how her father can continue to live in her despite his physical death.
As I delivered these words to her, I felt that I was instantly healed once again. I felt that I was able to offer what I would hope to hear as a bereaved. I felt that I didn't go through the loss and death in vain. I felt that I had valuable experiences that have allowed me to better support others emotionally.
When I left the session, I felt delivered by God. I felt that He has taken me back to why I joined social work and completed the circle. This was a special moment, a cherished memory that I will bring with me to sustain me in my work.
Lord, I leave the family in your good hands and may you one day lead them to you and your purposes too. Thank you Lord.
