Sometimes it can be hard to put our experiences into words. Often it is because we don’t have the words, the vocabulary of emotion and body sensation that is needed in order to adequately tell the experience to others. That is why this psalm is so interesting. The writer is able to express his experience of a very traumatic event in words that we can all understand and relate to.
But trauma affects not only a person’s experience of self, but also can change belief systems. We must wrestle with our belief about the LORD, about ourselves, and about other people. Difficult circumstances don’t just make our body’s ache; they can cause us spiritual pain as we yearn for a resolution to the “why” questions that arise.
So we read in the first verses that the writer feels forsaken, alone and unheard. If you have ever been through a very difficult time in your life, you can probably relate to this sense of isolation. Some people say that feeling alone during traumatic experiences is one of the most difficult to handle. We as human beings need each other. We are wired that way by the LORD.
And yet the writer struggles in his faith. It is not that he doesn’t have trust, but that he can’t see the rescue happening. He is able to recount past events when the LORD intervened in his life and the collective life of Israel, but in the moment he still feels alone. This wrestling with our fundamental beliefs is part of the process of recovery from trauma. We must wrestle with the meaning of what happened.
Part of that meaning is connected to what we believe about other people. We see that as he describes feeling like a worm. Others are looking on his suffering and making comments that aren’t helpful to his recovery. There is blame thrown, and our writer catches the blame as in some way owns it as his own. The comments and the pain they inflict become part of the trauma. They add additional pain to the experience. And as we think about the Cross, we can’t help but hear these words from those who passed by Jesus.
This man’s safety is seriously threatened. He recounts his birth and the trust that developed during infancy with his mother. He sees this as the LORD’s work. And in fact it is part of the design. We learn trust from our earliest interactions with the adults in our life. If they can be trusted to respond and meet our needs for warmth, food, comfort, and dryness, we learn that other people can be trusted and by extension the LORD can be trusted. If those needs aren’t met, we learn that either other’s can’t be trusted, or that we aren’t worth their response. Either lesson learned can be devastating to future relationship attempts.
He also experience social isolation. He feels without a friend. There is no one in his corner. Instead, he feels like everyone is ganging up on him. They all want a piece of him. They surround him and are ready to tear him limb from limb. Once the destructive comments start, it is difficult to bring them to a halt. In fact, other people see the opportunity to secure their position by ganging up on the weakened person. If the other person is being attacked, they aren’t being attacked. For the moment they are safe.
But this isn’t just name calling. There is also physical pain that is connected to this man’s experience. Other’s are ganging up, and the results show up in this person’s body. We know that stress takes a tremendous toll on us. The list of damage that can be done goes on and on. So not only is this a picture of Jesus’ experience on the cross, but it is also what the writer experienced. He feels like the strength needed to hold it together isn’t there. He feels like a liquid mass unable to pull himself together. His internal strength, his heart in the writer’s words, is mush. His mouth has dried up. These are all signs of stress.
Trauma, both big “T” traumas like war and rape, and little “t” traumas like humiliation and verbal abuse, affect every area of our lives. They create messages about ourselves that become embedded into our thinking. They bring the past right into the present. They can take over our lives, crippling us. They take over our bodies, robbing us of our strength. They take over our connections with others, isolating us.
The Arnold Journey 