Seeing in the storm

I had this vivid dream of my son's soccer game when he was in the 7th grade.  It wasn't the game so much, but it was the weather that set in as the game progressed. First it started to rain. Then the winds picked up. The rain was coming down in sheets so you couldn't see the players on the field. The referees must have missed seeing the lightning because otherwise the game might have been called way sooner. The game tried to go on until finally they called a time out. Finally, the right call was made and that game was stopped. Families quickly picked up their folding chairs and made the mad dash back to the car with their kids in toll. There was no after game time coach talk. Everyone ran to their cars.  As we reached our car I looked back to see that the field light was still on, but no one was on the field. You could hardly see across the field because of the pouring sheets of rain.

Not more than 4 months prior to that game was another storm. Not a meteorological one, but a storm that no family wishes to have. The storm that brewed when our daughter stopped breathing in the middle of the night.  The storm when the EMT's responded and when our family was sent into heighten alert waiting for God to bring her miraculously back. A storm that brought our Children's Pastor from a uneventful trip to California to a very eventful one at our home. It was a night that was so surreal that we could hardly see ahead of us. Shock had enter into us as we watched the emergency medical crew trying with all of their technological know how to bring Maria back. It was a storm that only got worst when the chaplain came out and said 'they did all they could, but they  were unable to bring her back'.

Recently, I attended a conference on American Indian youth about a program that is having major success in improving their graduation rates in high school and post secondary education. At this conference the keynote speaker talked about the incredible impact that trauma has had on the American Indian family and how this trauma can go from one generation to another inflicting damage on virtually every American Indian member. This program is doing something about that problem.  It is creating mentoring relationships with youth by giving them opportunities to 'tell the story' about their trauma. Telling their story resulted in healing for many of these youth. Teaching to tell their story brings healing to those around them.

When trauma happens how many of us want to just bury it in the dirt, cover it up, and walk away and try to to continue life by staying busy?   No matter how much we try the images keep coming back. We do everything but talk about it. We medicate it. We practice meditation. We work over time. We do everything else but talk about it. What if we take some lessons from this American Indian program by getting a mentor ourselves when grief and trauma enter into our lives? What if we found a mentor who was willing to listen to our pain long enough until we are able to work through every teardrop, every hurt, and every sorrow?  Healing just may come sooner than later.  There is healing through the art of telling our story.