Flash Back

First of all, let's flash back to last week.

I got invited to go with some friends to their family reunion. Great! My kids are gone...I'm not doing anything....perfect. Besides, I know some of their relatives and was excited. It was perfect. Food, dancing, family, pictures, laughter, stories, and lots and lots of genealogy. Over a meal of deep pit BBQ it happened.

The flashback.

Around the table it came up that I was a medic in the Iraq war...which led to a family elder telling a story from his firefighting days. Some people deal with trauma by talking about it humorously. Laughter is used to make a totally terrible story socially acceptable. That's one way of coping. I saw it a lot in the medical profession. It's a way to ease the tension. It's a way to be able to continue working with trauma patients. It's allows you not to crack emotionally under the weight of sorrow.

At first I wasn't totally clear that this firefighter was talking about people who had burned to death in a car crash. It seemed as though everyone around the table had already heard the story.

As soon as I figured out that we were talking about people and not a barbecue down the road I thought Oh, no. I don't want to listen. I started to feel sick inside and said that I didn't want to hear the rest of the story. He kept going...and not wanting to be rude, I stayed a moment longer to hear him tell of a woman who had asked him, "so what did it look like."

....and just like that I was gone! In the blink of an eye my mind had flashed back to the burned people I watched suffer and die. I stood and bolted for the door and ran outside. I could feel it...all of it coming back in my mind. No! No! No! I wanted to shout, but I was crying uncontrollably and shaking. How do you wash off that kind of pain? I felt as though all of the blood and human juices were all over my body again. I was wiping myself off and shaking my hands and trying so hard just to breath through the tears. I focused on the beautiful setting sun and the colors in the sky....it brought me some comfort, but no real relief from the suffering. I was angry! I felt vulnerable. I wanted to scrub all of the yuckness off of my skin with sand paper. As if my body was still covered in the fluid of death. I mourned, I cried, I shook...and to anyone else driving by might have thought I was crazy.

But I'm wasn't crazy. My body was simply reacting. At the time I was embarrassed and felt stupid for having a flashback. I was worried what this wonderful family might think of me.

...and then something wonderful happened. I was picked up from my bent over position in the rocks and held. Just held in strong safe, comforting arms. I cried, my breathing slowed, and I was safe. I still felt vulnerable, but it was exactly what I needed. A hug, a strong embrace.

In that moment I was witnessing one of God's promises being fulfilled. As Jesus taught the sermon on the mount he said, "Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted." Oh what beautiful words. And it happened, it really happened! I was comforted!

Did it make all of the pain go away? No. Did I still cry? Yes. Did I still feel a bit embarrassed as I returned to the family function? Absolutely! Did it take me several days to realize this blessing? Yes...and that's OK, because I see how time heals deep wounds, and my Heavenly Father loves me, and has sent me wonderful people who show me his love by listening, by loving, and by holding.

Today is a day of celebration! On July 30th 2003 I left the middle east on a plane home. It's been seven years...

And today was good! Really Good