As I continue this 'series' on Brokenness and recovery from abuse memories, I'd like to share a story that adds a piece to the puzzle of what happened to me as a child, and as a maturing adult, that eventually brought about an unfortunate split from family, yet wholeness for me.
One day I was driving in my car. I don't remember where I was headed but I remember I was on Bath Road in Kingston, Ontario in my little Honda civic. I looked into my rear view mirror, as one does (or should do) when driving. But what I saw was shocking, alarming, unexpected. I did not see what was behind me but rather what was before me. I saw my eyes, hazel and veiled - veiled in a shroud of evil, shall I say of hatred. Not a self-loathing and not specifically aimed at any particular target. Rather it was just nasty. I believed then and still believe that I was gazing into eyes that held evil. It seemed as though the devil was looking back at me.
I was frightened and totally shocked. But what could I do about it? It seemed as though I was looking at something within me that was quite separate from me.
What did I do at that time? Though a believer and follower of Jesus, I did not have the experience or knowledge of how to pray about or against what I was seeing, and I didn't have the theology to know whether I was possessed or not. I simply knew what I was looking at and respected yet was repulsed by it.
From that moment I knew there was a part of me that was nasty, and my aim was not to give it any power.
This raises many questions. I have no answers except to say that part of me, or thing within, me resides no more.
But as clear as sunshine, something revealed itself to me that day, to frighten me. It had the effect of making me more self-aware and more humble toward the God that I had chosen to follow some years before.
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