Several years ago, my youngest son came home from school, asking if I would take him to see one of his friends. I didn't know the friend, so I
asked him why he needed to go see him. I expected him to tell me they had a
group project. But, he told me the boy's mom had come to pick her son up
from school and had let him drive home. On the way home, an
elderly woman who was walking her dog stepped off the curb when her dog dashed into
the street. The student had the sun blaring in his eyes and didn't see her
until it was too late. The lady passed away and the student had not returned
to school and our son wanted to see if he was okay. I took him over to see his
friend and as I dropped him off, I warned him that his friend was not going
to be okay and that there would not be anything he could do or say to make him
feel better. I encouraged him to just sit with his friend.
I am sure my son thought I was being a
"Debbie-Downer," but, I wasn't. When I was a sophomore in high
school, I was sitting in the front seat of a car going down a country road late
at night and saw lights to the side of the road. As I turned my attention back to the road I suddenly saw a woman laying in the road in the headlights. I couldn't respond in time to prevent
the driver from running over her. There were different stories about how she
had ended up in the road and I do realize that even if I could have
screamed the driver would not have been able to stop in time. I
worked through some of the trauma of that night in counseling and thought it
was way behind me.
Then, recently, one of my dearest friends asked me where God was
in all the suffering of the hurricanes. Even though we were close in high
school and I had anorexia, she had no idea of the amount of trauma, shame, and
sorrow that I lived with when we were teenagers. So, I shared with her some of
the hard things I had been through and how I believed God used those things
to prepare me for the ministry I direct. I was trying to convey to her that,
through the healing process, I had experienced great intimacy with God that I
would never have experienced without having experienced trauma.
Within a week, a mutual friend posted an article written by Alice
Gregory titled The Sorrow and the Shame of the Accidental Killer. In
it, Gregory tells the story of Maryann Gray who was in an vehicular accident in which she
hit a child, causing the death of the child. She described
eloquently the feelings Gray experienced, the vows she made in the aftermath,
and how she managed to live with the sorrow and the shame she experienced over the years. It
remained pretty much a secret from most people until there was an accident in
which an 86-year-old man plowed into several people, killing them. Many people she knew were angry at the man and she, believing it to be accidental, spoke up,
sharing her own story and the compassion she felt for him. Out of her telling
her story, others who had similar experiences began to tell theirs as
well.
I could relate to the shame she described and the vows she made. I
remember sitting right behind the family of the deceased lady from the
accident I had been in, during baccalaureate service as her son was graduating with my brother. I felt deep shame and wanted to hide. I hated
witnessing the pain their family faced during graduation, having just lost
their mom. I felt deep sorrow and suffered from flashbacks and nightmares
for years. And, I still experience PTSD when I am riding in cars. Some of the
people who were in accidents were treated with compassion and mercy in the
aftermath, but our family didn't talk about things. So, it was no surprise that
even my closest friends from that time didn't know I was in the car that
night.
Maryann, who is a secular Jew, shared with the author something
she had come across in the Old Testament--Cities of Refuge. God had instructed
Moses to set up six different cities that were to be cities of refuge for
people who killed a person accidentally. When they entered the city, a tribunal
would meet with them and determine whether he or she was eligible for
sanctuary. Those who committed premeditated murder were turned away and those
who truly had killed accidentally were allowed to stay and were protected from
those who might want to avenge the death of a loved one.
When Maryann first learned of the concept she was overcome with
gratitude and said, "The Torah was talking about me!" She became
obsessed with the concept and researched it extensively. As she talked to
Rabbis, she learned the purpose of the cities was also to allow individuals to
share some of their pain with a community. Even the tribunal offered a place to tell their story. Maryann said she realized she could have
moved, lived, and worked without so much shame in a welcoming refuge community
who knew about her story and her pain. She said, "If I had been exiled to a city of
refuge, I might not have needed exile from myself." She had longed
"to live in the world with acceptance and with opportunity, but also with
the acknowledgment that in running over this child something terrible happened
and it deserves attention."
When I read the article. and processed the concept of the cities
of refuge I, too, was overwhelmed with gratitude for the sweetness of God who
made provision for people who carried the great sorrow and shame of accidental
killings. I realized how differently I might have navigated life had there been
a safe haven, a place of support in the aftermath of our accident. Shame has a
way of silencing us and isolating us from others. It also has a way of separating
us from parts of ourselves that have to keep shameful secrets until God
Himself brings them to light and provides safe people who are willing to hear
the stories and sit in the sorrow with us. What I experienced so long ago did
give me a compassion that runs deep and rises strong when I hear or read about
others who were involved accidents of all kinds, resulting in killings--motor-vehicle
accidents, falls, firearm mishaps, and accidental poisonings. I also feel
strong feelings of compassion for those who like me, were not directly
responsible, but were left wondering if there was something they could have done to
prevent or stop an accidental death. I hope someday churches can offer safe
havens for those struggling with this type of shame and pain so that shame and pain doesn't keep them separated physically or emotionally from others. Many churches do
offer safe places for people to process trauma and grieve losses, and maybe some of those
places are in the process of becoming “Cities of Refuge” to those who have accidently harmed another.
I was interviewed by Alice Gregory, I have been struggling to share my testimony. It is important for me to say thank you for sharing the article and your story. The Lord has shown me great compassion and new depths of trust when you can't see the other side of this trial.
ReplyDeleteJennifer Eikenhort, thank you for taking the time to read and respond. It took a lot of courage for you to read this post and even more to leave a comment. I am so sorry that you went through this. I am very thankful the Lord has shown you great compassion and new depths of trust. I am so honored that you did so!
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