What, didn’t get the memo?

Don’t you just love it when people don’t get the memo. What I mean is we can walk through life thinking that people have heard how marred we are—the result of being gaslit—and we seriously feel that that marring will remain with us forever.

That’s why it’s great when others we don’t know haven’t received the memo; they haven’t yet bought into what is ‘wrong’ about us; what the gaslighter has said.

Soon, as we start associating with this new tribe, we find that we are amongst true friends, that we feel safe again, and that they didn’t receive the memo, and because of the people they are, that means we don’t get scapegoated like we have been scapegoated before.

It’s such a refreshing déjà vu,
as if life has been lit in us again!

Isn’t it amazing how high we can fly when we are no longer marred by falsities of fancy; the imaginings of minds that play make believe that never seem to rise to reality in the relational realm?

I mean by that—which can sound mean!—that those who do the gaslighting may well promote how they get on with others, but in reality their own relationships are usually nowhere near as good as they think they are. Their perceptions don’t meet with the perceptions of others.

Wouldn’t it be better to downplay how effectively we relate with others? Wouldn’t it be better for others to say how blessed they feel by being in our presence?

When a person comes to me and they say how much they have done, what they have achieved, who they know, how great people think they are, and how much they have, I just think narcissism.

Who can possibly live up to such claims? And especially when I know the realities have been exaggerated. Listen carefully; lies speak loud! These same people, who not-so-quietly parade their wares before anyone who will watch, who have no disdain for themselves, but are not short of disdain for others, even to a spark that sets a forest of derision ablaze, are the ones behind the scapegoating of individuals who don’t subscribe to their majesty of being.

And oh what joy it is to have left a toxic environment, where nothing in us would grow, in the hope of finding something new. Even the desert experience was better, for desert experiences teach us to rely on God all the more. And desert experiences are not inherently unsafe. See how diabolical the tempestuous land of abuse is?

Having traversed the desert, having dug deep of our soul, travailing fathomless depths, feeding on the grits of despair, we grew more there, because at least life was not being sucked out of us.

And out of the desert we emerged, to a place where our tribe came to find us; we do not find them—they found us, and they accepted us. Our new tribe didn’t get the memo. And we praise the Lord for that! And even if they did get the memo, what they now know of us puts to death all those silly accusations. A reputation of dirt and dust comes to life, just as out of ash the phoenix rises again. And as we rose, we did not burn them asunder; just called them to confession and repentance, which is the only Jesus salvation there is.

The very best thing about having been gaslit—oh thank you Lord for this!—is, once we have stunk that smell of burning vapour torching the tissues of our spirit, we know this abuse is both pungent and real, and we are given the fuller gift of discernment for it. God does this so we can help others.

The purpose of abuse, recovery,
unto recovery for yet others.

The advocate enters the arena.

But oh that gaslighter; may their lies burn them to the ground such that their only rise would occur through confession and repentance, for anyone who confesses and repents deserves the mercy of God and all humankind.

And that is the test! All the survivor asks for is justice. Their vindication like the noonday sun! (Psalm 37:6b)

Photo by Fancycrave on Unsplash