Friday, August 15, 2025

My Experience with Manipulation

 Parasite: “an organism living in, on, or with another organism in order to obtain nutrients, grow, or multiply often in a state that directly or indirectly harms the host” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary). 

    We have parasites in our society.  Some are entitled - never seeing a need to pick up a responsibility; when it is theirs to own, they pawn off their accountability to another.  Some are coercive - the nutrients they seek are power and admiration, and they gain it by exerting control.  Manipulation is the method, and it can easily be noticed.  However, understanding the motive - or rather,  answering the question of why someone continues to utilize such a sabotaging apparatus within their relationships can be quite confounding. 
    There are manipulators who outright denounce responsibility on their part; either due to immaturity or with maleficent intentions.  Nevertheless, manipulation can be more common in the church than one may compare to a criminal.  It may be a strand within our culture, even over the course of generations.  It is done with the intention to meet a legitimate need, but does so, rather illegitimately (as stated by Steven Furtick).  In  recent reflections on the matter, I have found that there are three contributing features to why someone manipulates, but doing so without a malicious intent. 
    1) They have a sense of learned helplessness.  When there was a struggle, they were either not taught how to deal with the problem, or there was someone readily jumping in to save them the trouble.  The long-term effect resulted in a person doubting their own capabilities and becoming overtly frustrated that they have to deal with conflict in real time.  They are desiring for someone to come save them, because they haven’t been taught how to address the situation, for themselves.
    2)  When there was a problem, those in authority and had the responsibility to address it, failed to.  They taught the message that avoidance was a tool in avoiding conflict, and keeping the peace will smooth the roughest edges out.  Nevertheless, in their silence, the problem only persisted. Manipulators, sometimes, indicatively know that a problem (or a portion of it) isn’t their own responsibility, but they try to exert forced influence upon the one whom the responsibility does hold.  

     3) The individual may have been forced to carry responsibilities they weren’t supposed to be held accountable for.  Since they are carrying someone else’s weight, they don’t have enough bandwidth to carry what is actually their responsibility, and so, in moments of crisis, they desire for someone to bear a load that isn’t theirs…all because someone else chose they couldn’t (or shouldn’t) deal with their own struggles.
                    *****

     In taking the effort to confront unhealthy family patterns, I have realized that I can be a manipulator.  I can be a parasite in a social circle.  Of course, it was never intentional.  I just wanted to fit in.  I just needed support.  But I failed to know what a proper boundary line was.  For many of my problems, I was either sheltered (someone took care of the solution) or told to ignore it (deny that it was problematic).  I often became the source of wisdom for others, and the ‘free therapist’ friend. 
    Yeah, that one always baffled me.  Why was it that most of the people that I wanted to hang out with, kept their distance, but then the ones that I wanted to spend time with - I ultimately ended up carrying their emotional loads (with hardly a moment for them to carry mine)?  Despite the social circles, church activities and volunteering, I felt like no one could really understand me, or perhaps I gave off a needy vibe.  Worse, when there was a healthy friend interested in me, I usually ignored them (like, THAT was helpful!).  And the last thing I ever wanted to do was use anyone…so any need I had, I silenced.  Better to be depressed and alone, than to dump my crap on somebody’s lap.  Most of my adult years, I have been extremely lonely. 
    Much of my parasitical habits were driven by a victim mindset that I either couldn’t handle what was in front of me, or because I was so busy carrying other things I drained my own strength to sufficiently address my personal concerns.  The manipulation in my life has been paradoxical, in nature.  On one hand, I am quick to assist others with their problems (taking on responsibilities that aren’t mine).  My empathy and being able to see things from different angles is a vital skill in weighing out what is the best possible outcome.  Nevertheless, when it comes to my own life, any slight notice of discomfort or distress, these molehills really do become mountains, because I didn’t learn how to deal with a molehill in the first place (learned helplessness).
    I manipulated others by constantly finding a friend (usually a third party) to air out every emotional grievance I had or resorting to writing to my offender, so they couldn’t verbally attack me.  I was never content if a problem remained unresolved (introducing the constant anxiety).  Especially, if I believed that a portion of the accountability was in their hands, and they were failing to take ‘the proper steps’.  I made a common practice of overstaying my welcome in social gatherings; usually was one of the last ones to leave the party.  I failed to ask for help or share my needs, but I also held unspoken expectations of how others should meet those needs (and then got ticked off when they didn’t pick up on those hopes or cues). 
    And, as for Jesus’ role in all of this?  I know I should go to Him and depend on Him for all my needs.  But…life’s experiences have a funny way of undermining trust in the character of God.  Praying to God looked more like whining, because I just wanted a physical action taking place to solve the problem.  And later wasn’t going to cut it, because if it was later, it might as well be never.  (Again, this was my thought process; not what should be wired in my brain.) 
    Boundaries are healthy, as they determine where one begins and ends.  However, we often fail to take into consideration God’s role in our lives.  Erby, we then force ourselves or others into a role not meant for them.  At the end of the day, that need was supposed to be filled by Another.  As I grow as a wife and mother, I no longer want to be stuck in the same cycles that have perpetuated my brokenness.  By identifying the ghastly manipulative tendencies, I feel like there has been a freedom shown, and wholeness to result  This will occur with three steps:
    1) Identify and assert my boundaries.  I need to know where I begin and end.  What are my responsibilities and what are not.  Affectively address what is in my realm of influence, and forget all else.  Additionally, learn to respect the boundaries of others.  I am not the center of the world, and to expect people to be constantly vigilant and ready to meet my needs and desires is serving an immature and selfish mindset.
    2)  When a conflict presents itself, seek to address it, not avoid it.  This is a skill I didn’t have modeled as a child, but that doesn’t absolve me of my responsibility as one of the adults of my home.  True peace making comes when one “speaks softly, but carr[ies] a big stick (President Theodore Roosevelt).”  This action will serve to support step #1, and will also help create new healthy patterns for my family.
    3) Invite God to meet needs that are beyond my control, but still remain outside the responsibilities of others.  This doesn’t negate the desire for all parties to self-reflect and see their growth points and action steps.  But rather than get in a bind where someone isn’t stepping up where I believe they should…ask God to intervene.  In between the time of identifying the need and the need being met, “God will [either] use people to meet someone’s need or will give an individual the strength to address the need on their own (as stated by Becca Meek concerning Philippians 4:8-13).”  And sometimes the person God wants to meet me is Himself, because ultimately, I was created for His pleasure and glory.
    In summary, the parasitical tendency in me will die once I shift the focus of my worship off of myself and back onto Jesus.  It will die when I admit my needs and  trust God to empower the solution, whatever it may be, done with His hand leading, rather than my own. 




   


Wednesday, July 30, 2025

Blessing: God's Father's Heart Benefits Us

 A thought: So often, we want God's blessings and favor poured out on our lives, and sometimes, I wonder, if we misunderstand what His blessing and favor are. We often assume that it is the good stuff, or the things, people, answers to prayers where we get the "happy ending" story. But what if God's blessings and favor are the things, that as a Father, He seeks to BENEFIT us, whether the outcome brings a battle or a smile? Can we trust that God is good - and means good for us - even when we lack a tangible or visible good? Can we believe we are blessed, while in poverty, in suffering, in trials, being corrected, while in doubt or lonely, because we have been redeemed by and have a relationship with Jesus? Or do we only believe we are blessed when we are in the company of abundance?

Monday, July 21, 2025

The Casualty of a Broken World?

How do I enter Your gates With praise, while I wake With tormenting thoughts in the night? It isn’t fair that the dawn Meant to bring new mercies Ushers in new fears.

The burden of sorrow
Remains in the absence
Of their presence;
No memory created; and yet,
Their existence is not forgotten.

Was this just an ambush of the devil?
Were not enough prayers lifted
To actualize Your will tangibly?
Is taking thoughts captive
Equate as denial?

I do not mean to speak
Sacrilegious heresies against Your throne.
However, if I silence articulations
Plaguing my dreams, I fear
The toll it will steal from my faith.

In Your sovereignty,
Where was Your rescue for them?
Is it to be consolation
That my brother and I survived,
Though the other was a casualty
Of a broken creation?
I know they knew no pain
Beyond death’s grave;
But is that supposed to serve as comfort?

Why were they not allotted
Your protection?
You are God; Lord of all things!
Why didn’t they receive the favor of life?
Or is Your response that
Their breath is one which will never end?

I cannot tell if my torment
Is out of guilt or jealousy.
Because of former stings, I quake
For my children’s lives.
What kind of life is that for a mother -
Cowering, instead of
Carrying hope and joy?
Is this what soldiers feel
After a battle’s finish?
God, I do not seek death.
I just wish they lived.

There are no pictures;
No gender announcements;
No name
Save that which heaven hosts.
And I must wait until my death
To greet them.
Not knowing if their life was snuffed

To serve as a mercy
Killing - no…You are not sadistic.
Such an action would hint a choice
As an avoidance of pain
Rather than carrying compassion
For the one enduring Lucifer’s influence.

Where is Your glory
Between
The silent and hidden past
And
The restoration for the future?
This isn’t even my child I mourn!
They were my mother’s,
However!

Perhaps there has been a grief
I have not been allowed to weep
Why would You choose me to live
And they die?
Did they see You move in their short story?
Lastly, because of their tale,
Along with others’ who remain untold,
Must any of my children suffer
Their shadow?  Or will You intervene?
Please…in the name of Jesus,
Break this cycle that plagues my family,
Haunts my mind
And robs my joy.

I don’t understand
Why You move and when
And when You refrain…
Why some are rescued now
And others have to wait until eternity.
Even asking these questions
Feels as if I’m in rebellion.

But if You were willing to suffer
Peter’s comparison to John,
And was willing to enter the mud and
Wrestle with Jacob for a new name,
Then can You bring solace
To a heart that hasn’t ever been given
The space to bury a sibling
And mourn a life that is wished
Could have been?
Maybe if there was a grave,
I could believe death
Would not have its resurrection.

#PPDAwareness  #Miscarriage  #TraumaInformedChristianity

Monday, June 16, 2025

Singed

Secret tears have fallen.
Scars carved remain hidden.
Emotions reveal an increasing tension;
A story told that may not be shared.
Yet, even if my mouth refuses
To utter the news,
You still know it.

Do I stand a chance
With the likes of Rocky?
I do not know how many times
I can fall, before I fail to return
To my feet, once more.
Must I beg for what I desire?

You said I wouldn't get burned,
But my clothes smell like smoke.
You said I was covered by Your hand,
But the hurricanes in life have hurled its growl.
The lions' mouths may have been shut,
Nevertheless, their claws came close.

The arrows of the night
Made their mark upon my brow.
Hope feels like it's been stolen
As fear haunts the memory
Of what was supposed to be joyful.
Can my grievances be redeemed?

Why, when the storms come,
It seems the wind and waves
Refuse to be still?
Am I to be like Job;
To go through hell
That heaven's face be seen?
Is this the agony
Many Christians feel
When beckoning for Your second
Coming to be revealed?

I know You 
Are sovereign, righteous, and good.
However, what is the deliverance 
You aim to achieve?
I know pain will be eradicated
In the second phase of Your salvation.
When you said that Your kingdom had come,
Will I be able to witness 
The fulfillment, even to an extent?

I need to find joy,
Believe in hope,
Stand in faith
And love in truth.
Help me, Jesus,
To refuse becoming a cynic -
Heal my mind from this trauma
That desires for my disappointment;
Compelling me toward destruction
In convincing me to believe something
Other than Your nature.
Help me to see Your face
In all of this.

(See Psalm 91 and 94; #PPDAwareness)

Thursday, May 22, 2025

A New Mother's Joy

 (See Luke 1:47-55)

Hallelujah to the One
Who introduced me to you!
Praise be the One
Who brings redemption
From the dry places
And renews the heart
With long-awaited dreams!
Blessed be His name!

For I could not imagine
The visions He held
For me, to hold you in my arms.
I didn't fathom this goodness
To be my future.
But here you are,
My precious child!!

And the ones He destined
To be in my life,
I would not change 
Its course or story writ.
You are magnificent!
Perfectly made in the image
Of the One who knew your name
Before I thought of your existence.

You are dearly loved,
Cherished, and my treasure!
I get to proclaim
You are Mine;
The grandest legacy
I could call my own.
To bear you is a responsibility
I do not carry lightly.
There is a glory
In your humanity being entrusted
Within my arms.

I pray that my words and actions
Credit Jesus, and honors you.
My body given to be 
Stretched, cut, bled and scarred
So that you may have life.
You are my pride and joy.
It was worth it;
And I would do it again,
All for you.
Becoming your mother
Is the greatest description
Of God's handiwork
In my life being manifested.





Obtained on friend's Facebook account


Sunday, April 27, 2025

The Lesson of Worship from My Late Uncle

      

Gary Hall, as a teen or early 20s, showcasing 
his love for the accordion.  He would play the
instrument until his death,
forty some years later.

He wasn’t the outspoken kind.  He didn’t draw a crowd with a charismatic personality.  He wasn’t the evangelistic type. Generous at heart, but wasn’t known for doing outreach.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get to know this uncle very well, while he was still alive.  But the few things I remember of him, he sure loved fishing, giving out of what was readily available in his pocket (usually, a piece of hard candy), easy to find him with a smile on his face, and he enjoyed music.     He came from a family where music was a common factor.  As far as I know, many if not all, were of the kind that were trained from at home and secondary school, rather than collegiately.  Some sang, others played guitar or piano.  Uncle Gary picked up the accordion.  And played it with as much exuberating emotion as one could muster.  Was he always on key?  Probably not.  Was it the background music that any of us expected to find for our family conversations?  Again, unlikely.  Nonetheless, he played, paying no mind to surrounding opinions.  He was in his world, and while he played, he did so with a sense of freedom.     I don’t know how one would measure the spiritual maturity of my Uncle Gary, but as a Christian…I wish I could have the same kind of freedom in worship as he had.  I know that whatever we do, we should do with excellence.  We shouldn’t do things “for God” with a poor effort and lack of care.  However, I have found myself in a space where as much as I desired to do things well, I still could tell I fell short.  No matter what I worked hard at, no matter how much training I accrued to hone in whatever skills I wanted to develop, if I failed in one area, then what was it for?     You know what’s funny?  In a worship service, the ones who seem the most free are either the ones who know they have the musical talent and skill to stay in tune, OR, it is the ones who have absolutely NO skill and ain’t worried about trying to prove something they know they aren’t.     I think somewhere we have forgotten the freedom of the latter worshipper.  Yes, we should do all things heartily as to the Lord and not to men (Colossians 3:23).  Whatever we do, we should do for the glory of God (1 Corinthians 10:31, generalized application).  But what if we have become so obsessed with trying to do things so well that we have forgotten the joy of glorifying the God we worship?  We become critical, more than jubilant.  We desire perfection on display, rather than the journey of the process.  Pleasing the Lord then takes a form where it is dependent on how much we can do, more than the work He has already prepared for, and is developing in, us.     We can claim that what we do for God is worship…but if we are weighing the worth of our offerings by the perfection of our own abilities and standards of our peers, then is it really worship at all?  Are we doing a work really for God, or for others?  Whose glory are we actually fighting for?  Sometimes, we lose track, because we are more focused on how the view of our worship may look to the outsiders than feeling the pleasure of God’s delight in His creation, when we bow before Him.     I wish I could do whatever work for God with a sense of joy of who He is, more than how it could be a proof of how good I was to Him.  Whether it be a skill I have developed, or even in an area that is outside my comfort zone.  I remember when I picked up the guitar in college.  Over the course of a decade, the instrument collected dust now and again, because frankly, as much as it was a joy to play, it was not easy with a hand that is semi-paralyzed.  Playing songs always took four times as long, and even if I practiced, I eventually would resort to singing acapella.  Eventually, I gave the guitar away, knowing it was better to have someone else play it regularly than for me to hold onto something that I wished I was better at.  Then one day, I felt the Holy Spirit whisper, “You know why I wanted you to have the guitar (for that time)?  Because I wanted you to enjoy something without the pressure to prove anything.”     Like the out-of-key, loudest singer in a church congregation, the goal was always supposed to be about how I could declare the goodness of who God is, rejoice in the relationship I have with Him because of Jesus’ salvation, and glorify Him, no matter what the world’s opinion may be.   I wish I had the freedom my Uncle Gary had.  He would just whip out that accordion like it was no one’s business.  And maybe, it wasn’t.  He just played and played.  Sometimes with deep concentration, other times, with a smile.  But this instrument was played all through his life, as a form of joy on display.  If only we could worship Jesus with the same level of freedom. “Lord, I will offer myself freely, and everything I am I give to you.  I will worship and praise Your name, O Lord, for it is precious to me [I thank You God- You’re so good (MSG)].” - Psalm 54:6, The Passion Translation