Letting Go: A Story of Healing
Something incredible happened yesterday. I went to town to get my hair highlighted and while I was in the stylist’s chair, I had a vision. Since I was a little girl I have always felt haunted by spirits. Most people who have seen a spirit are haunted by ghosts of family members, or the spirit of whoever died in the house they are living in. For the past twenty or so years, however, I’ve been haunted by a little girl, and a teenager. I know who they are intimately. They are me. They are the people I used to be. They died so I could become who I am today. Most of the time they are just a reminder of what I’ve survived. They are the manifestation of my trauma.
Every time I see them bruised, bleeding and crying; I am reminded of the sacrifice I (they) made. They remind me to push myself today so their sacrifice won’t be in vain. But most of the time it looks like they are still in pain. It’s like they are still living the trauma over and over, and will only be free when I accomplish what I’m meant to do in life. Their sad eyes tell me they will only be free when they see a purpose come from what they went through.
When I get triggered they cling to me, and my past pain is transferred back into my body. In those moments I re-experience the trauma until I can catch my breath and pull away from them.
They are heart wrenching to look at, but I guess they would have to be to push me to do all the things I’ve done in my life so far. They were also my companions in a sense; haunting guides pointing me and pushing me toward something bigger. Sometimes I feel like the reason they stayed with me is because I am the only one who ever loved them. I am the only one who ever saw, understood, cared, and encouraged them when they were still alive. I believed they were special, which is why they made the sacrifice. That is why they gave up their lives, so that I could go on, without having to carry their (my) burden.
As I sat in the chair thinking about all the amazing things God has recently done in my life, I looked out the window to reflect. I was expecting to see the ghost of myself as a little girl and all the trauma I had left in her. But when I looked out the window, I saw her…healthy. I saw a girl no longer crying, bleeding, or bruised. She smiled at me and then she disappeared.
The next vision I saw was of her in heaven. She was playing and giggling as she ran up and down the streets of gold. She jumped into Jesus’s arms as though she was light as a feather. I knew in that moment that I had been healed of my childhood trauma. It was no longer my responsibility to hold it because Jesus was holding it (her), and he was happy to do it. I felt like the Lord was telling me my pain had been restored into joy in heaven with him. I heard the Holy Spirit whisper in me, “Let go”. I knew in my heart a 22-year-old struggle had been lifted. I would not see her ghost again. She was no longer a haunting ghost, but a citizen of heaven. I knew she would be too busy enjoying heaven to ever want to come and remind me of my pain again.
It was a wonderful moment. I tried not to let my stylist see me cry. I praised God silently in the chair. I didn’t see the teenager ghost move on, but I’ll be praying she will as well, someday soon.
If you are struggling with being healed today, put your trust in Jesus. Healing in him is a journey that is worth every step. I’m living proof.
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