2 Samuel 13:23-39
In
this story, we have Absalom - one of David's sons - and he's throwing a
party for all his brothers. Two years ago, Absalom's sister Tamar was
raped by his brother Amnon. When it happened, Tamar wanted to tell the
king what happened, but Absalom told her to keep quiet. He told her to
get over it essentially, while he developed a rage that grew for two
years. He had to cover his tracks. He had to develop a grand scheme, a
way to pay back his brother for violating his sister.
So, the rage explodes two years later. The way he's gonna pay his brother back is by getting him drunk. He's going to get his servants to kill him while he's drunk and numb.
The plan unfolds perfectly. The servants murder Amnon, and Absalom runs away.
When I was younger, a family member that I looked up to decided to violate me while I was sleeping. I was terrified and alone. I didn't know what to do, so I kept quiet. I didn't want to stir up any family controversy. I felt like an incest pig, a worthless piece of human garbage. I swore to myself after it all went down that no one would ever find out. I considered myself guilty, even though I didn't do anything wrong. Or, did I?
I can relate to Absalom and Tamar. I can relate to Tamar in the way of being terrified of the shame that I would take on. I can relate to Absalom in the way of keeping it on the down low, afraid of telling people what happened.
I believe the lack of action on my part was what caused the most damage in the situation. Because, I left that night a twisted, sexually confused, isolated and fearful victim. Rage set in. The anger I had towards my family member grew, and grew, and grew. I constantly thought of how I could pay them back, but instead of killing them I slowly killed myself. Through alcohol, I escaped the tormented mixture of rage and shame, never having enough to make it go away. As my emotional problems were directed at someone else, I drank myself to oblivion. There was no way to escape it. Eventually, I crossed a line with alcohol, to where my body craved it even if I didn't want it. I had to drink, and once I started I couldn't physically stop.
This rage and shame lasted for about fifteen years. That's how much time I spent in my head, planning, plotting, and scheming ways I could possibly get the person back, even though I had no intention of physically harming them. My way was to manifest that anger into hurting myself, thinking that maybe that person would see how much harm they caused me. I was an innocent victim, or was I?
When I first stepped into Alcoholics Anonymous, I knew in the bottom of my heart what my first course of action was. I knew that if I was to get over drinking, it would have nothing to do with staying away from alcohol or just not drinking. It would have nothing to do with white knuckling or just hanging around with the "right" people. It would have everything to do with coming to terms with where I had gone wrong and forgiving anything that was done wrong to me. I knew that unless I started there, recovery would be nonexistent.
I procrastinated, prolonged, and avoided the work as long as I could. I let the emotional pain get as deep as it could. It took two years of being dry, miserable, useless, and sober, to finally hit my breaking point. I worked with a sponsor to find out what I had done wrong, and yes I had a part to play.
Like Absalom, I didn't want to create a family drama. I was too afraid of what people would think to tell the truth. I was too ashamed to look at myself as a human being and not a piece of garbage. Through the help of my sponsor, I was able to realize this for the first time ever. I realized that my family member was a sick person, and that they had probably spent the same amount of time as I had feeling the same way. As I looked back over all the years at how I used that person as my personal scapegoat for all my problems, I felt bad for them. I sent a letter telling them that I forgave them. I finally came out to the family.
The rage and the shame were transformed to solidarity and grace. I no longer see that person as a human trash can but a child of God, someone worthy of love and grace - the kind I wasn't able to give myself for so long.
The time length for being a victim was not long. It happened in thirty minutes or however long it took. After that, there was action to take. Instead, I chose to stay quiet and let the rage and retaliation grow in my heart, blocking me off from any deep and meaningful relationships. I chose to blame myself, blame others, and blame God, biting off the hands that fed me.
When someone hurts me or offends me, I have choices to make. I can either do nothing or do something. The way to a living misery is to keep it inside, hoping it'll simply disappear one day. Eventually though, the pain will get too great - a kind of pain that no amount of alcohol or drugs will numb. It becomes a matter of life or death.
I thank God for the grace to choose life, and for the grace to keep hanging on long enough to find the way to go. I thank god for the pathway to peace, and for the ability to see people who were once considered enemies as friends.
Today's Action: Is there anyone we are "raging" on today? Why?
So, the rage explodes two years later. The way he's gonna pay his brother back is by getting him drunk. He's going to get his servants to kill him while he's drunk and numb.
The plan unfolds perfectly. The servants murder Amnon, and Absalom runs away.
When I was younger, a family member that I looked up to decided to violate me while I was sleeping. I was terrified and alone. I didn't know what to do, so I kept quiet. I didn't want to stir up any family controversy. I felt like an incest pig, a worthless piece of human garbage. I swore to myself after it all went down that no one would ever find out. I considered myself guilty, even though I didn't do anything wrong. Or, did I?
I can relate to Absalom and Tamar. I can relate to Tamar in the way of being terrified of the shame that I would take on. I can relate to Absalom in the way of keeping it on the down low, afraid of telling people what happened.
I believe the lack of action on my part was what caused the most damage in the situation. Because, I left that night a twisted, sexually confused, isolated and fearful victim. Rage set in. The anger I had towards my family member grew, and grew, and grew. I constantly thought of how I could pay them back, but instead of killing them I slowly killed myself. Through alcohol, I escaped the tormented mixture of rage and shame, never having enough to make it go away. As my emotional problems were directed at someone else, I drank myself to oblivion. There was no way to escape it. Eventually, I crossed a line with alcohol, to where my body craved it even if I didn't want it. I had to drink, and once I started I couldn't physically stop.
This rage and shame lasted for about fifteen years. That's how much time I spent in my head, planning, plotting, and scheming ways I could possibly get the person back, even though I had no intention of physically harming them. My way was to manifest that anger into hurting myself, thinking that maybe that person would see how much harm they caused me. I was an innocent victim, or was I?
When I first stepped into Alcoholics Anonymous, I knew in the bottom of my heart what my first course of action was. I knew that if I was to get over drinking, it would have nothing to do with staying away from alcohol or just not drinking. It would have nothing to do with white knuckling or just hanging around with the "right" people. It would have everything to do with coming to terms with where I had gone wrong and forgiving anything that was done wrong to me. I knew that unless I started there, recovery would be nonexistent.
I procrastinated, prolonged, and avoided the work as long as I could. I let the emotional pain get as deep as it could. It took two years of being dry, miserable, useless, and sober, to finally hit my breaking point. I worked with a sponsor to find out what I had done wrong, and yes I had a part to play.
Like Absalom, I didn't want to create a family drama. I was too afraid of what people would think to tell the truth. I was too ashamed to look at myself as a human being and not a piece of garbage. Through the help of my sponsor, I was able to realize this for the first time ever. I realized that my family member was a sick person, and that they had probably spent the same amount of time as I had feeling the same way. As I looked back over all the years at how I used that person as my personal scapegoat for all my problems, I felt bad for them. I sent a letter telling them that I forgave them. I finally came out to the family.
The rage and the shame were transformed to solidarity and grace. I no longer see that person as a human trash can but a child of God, someone worthy of love and grace - the kind I wasn't able to give myself for so long.
The time length for being a victim was not long. It happened in thirty minutes or however long it took. After that, there was action to take. Instead, I chose to stay quiet and let the rage and retaliation grow in my heart, blocking me off from any deep and meaningful relationships. I chose to blame myself, blame others, and blame God, biting off the hands that fed me.
When someone hurts me or offends me, I have choices to make. I can either do nothing or do something. The way to a living misery is to keep it inside, hoping it'll simply disappear one day. Eventually though, the pain will get too great - a kind of pain that no amount of alcohol or drugs will numb. It becomes a matter of life or death.
I thank God for the grace to choose life, and for the grace to keep hanging on long enough to find the way to go. I thank god for the pathway to peace, and for the ability to see people who were once considered enemies as friends.
Today's Action: Is there anyone we are "raging" on today? Why?
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