I love my visits with Vera. But they are so private and personal that I rarely share the content of my visits.
Today I'm going to share, well I'll try to share but it's hard to find words to express my wonder.
So, blah blah blah, stuff going on in my life... and my fourth grade year of school came into our session. Last week I cried and raged (and laughed, because I really do love to laugh) about how a teacher refused to let me go to the girl's room. (Fourth grade was relevant to the topic.)
I told Vera about the physical pain I was in because my bladder was so full. She (the teacher) told me to go sit down, I could wait till class was over. I asked my best friend, who the teacher liked, to go ask again for me. I had to go to the bathroom so badly I was afraid to breath.
When my friend came back to our table of desks shaking her head no, my bladder just released. I completely lost control.
I remember tearfully whispering to my best friend to go tell the teacher I'd wet my pants. I was sitting in a puddle of my own misery.
I was waiting in the nurses office for my parents to bring some clothing. The teacher came in, stooped to eye level, and with an accusatory finger jabbing in my face said in the scary whisper "Don't you ever do that to me again."
Today Vera took me through a "technique," a journey really. (I'm already at a loss for words.) Knowing and believing that Jesus is always with me, with us, we are going to visit my memory again. This time I closed my eyes and brought all my memories of that day together, I've just wet my pants... and then Vera said, "look at the door, Jesus is walking towards you."
And he was. And as Vera spoke Jesus and I walked through the whole memory. But this time I can SEE him protecting me. I can HEAR him kindly telling the teacher not to speak that way to me, that I've done nothing wrong. He asks me to give him my pain. And I asked if he could also take my anger. And please forgive me for taking so long to forgive this teacher. And he does.
And there is a wonderful warmth of lights and colors.
And he loves me.
I don't have a photo to share today. A photo doesn't feel right with this post. My fourth grade experience is so mild compared to the pain that so many children suffer, I know this. And this experience is not why I'm seeing a counselor... I just wanted to share a wonderful experience.