A Testimony Of Emotional Breakthrough
Below is an experience that I wrote about several years ago. I was training at a Christian youth camp and the atmosphere was loving and authentic which set the stage for vulnerability and breakthrough. God did a lot of heart-work that week but Jace’s story really touched me. I did change the names since I’m not still in touch with everyone.
We had less than a week to train to be effective small-group leaders for the upcoming youth camp and that training included some intense soul-searching. One of the hardest yet most rewarding acts a person can do is dig deep into the heart until light permeates every part and nothing remains hidden.
Our intimate small group had been through days of emotional honesty already and we felt the heavy effects of removing our masks. But our drained emotions would in no way deter us from fighting for the heart of our brother as we waited patiently in the small library above the cabin for Jace to gather pictures from his past.
“I’m just tired of feeling like the f*#*ing tin man.” Jace rested his head in his hands in frustration.
“I remember cryin as a little kid, cause that’s what little kids do, ya know? But my poor ma had a lot to deal with, my dad being a drunk and all. I mean my pops is a good man, don’t get me wrong. He’s changed a lot. But they just couldn’t handle me cryin. I remember….. I remember one time I was cryin in the car. I didn’t want to leave my friend’s house or something stupid, and she kept telling me to be quiet. Then, she pulled over and made me get out of the car and left me on the side of the road. I mean, she came back and got me but that’s scary for a little kid. You don’t do that to a kid.”
Compassion gripped me as I pictured a frightened boy watching the taillights of his mother’s car and his fragile heart being pierced with whatever lies were planted. For the third time that day, tears stained my face.
Jace merely stared as if far from our little table, his jaw twitching a bit. He always looked so strong and unaffected. I’d only known him to be excited and passionate or extremely angry. He was the kind of eighteen-year-old recognized as a “man’s man.” Strong build, commanding demeanor and eager to prove it. Jace was fearless… and Jace hadn’t cried in years.
It wasn’t just tears that escaped his frustrated grasp, it was any emotion besides excitement or anger. Even when his close friend died his stony heart mocked him.
“Another time I had a fight with my pops” He continued in a distant tone. “We can both be pretty hard-headed. I didn’t want to apologize cause I knew he’d just say that I wasn’t really sorry and that he wouldn’t admit his side. But my ma wanted me to say sorry and I wanted to keep my ma happy. I was right. He told me ‘yeah right, you’re sorry.’ Even though I was like fifteen I was upset, ya know? I went in my room and cried. My pops came in and asked, ‘Why the hell are you cryin?’ I decided from then on not to show emotion.”
Jace had made a vow, and the result was a heart that wrapped itself in indifference like a suffocating blanket. He rattled off some more stories and even the death of a young friend as though they were merely facts from a black and white documentary he had once watched in history class. He admitted he had taken pride in the fact that life couldn’t hurt him, but now only frustration was evident as he continued.
“I can sit here and think about all these memories, but there’s no emotion attached to them. I see you guys cryin, you’re so compassionate, you feel people’s hurt, but I feel nothing. I wish to God I could cry right now. I know I must have emotion somewhere down in me. I mean, I have to, I know I’m human. It’s like that Spider-Man movie when he forgets how to shoot his web. He knows he can do it and he tries and tries all the right hand movements, but nothing comes out.”
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It was almost midnight and the day had been full and exhausting. Still, four of us girls preferred talking to sleep. Instead of continuing to annoy the whole of the women’s cabin, we stealthily made our way to the bath house to defy our curfew longer still.
Noxema and night cream decorated the sinks as we brushed our teeth and washed our faces. We were supposed to be in bed and I felt as though we were little girls sneaking away from a slumber party as giggles echoed through the bath house. Being the oldest, I was a bit conflicted as speeches on “the importance of respecting rules and diligent leadership” wafted through my mind. Oh but this was such a welcome release from our rather serious day! Couldn’t rules be waived once in a while for the sake of much needed giggles?
Finally, after an exorbitant amount of bedtime prepping, we reluctantly headed across the wet field to our cabin. The sticky night air clung to my skin as I breathed in the earthy smell of woods and field. What better place to seek rest and wholeness than in the sanctuary of nature? Here, we’re not choked by mundane tasks and everyday busyness. Here, under a cathedral of stars, a soul can get quiet, quiet enough to hear the very maker of those stars.
My thoughts were interrupted by an urgent male voice, “Come and pray for Jace!”
Brian and Jace sat on a bench swing about fifty feet ahead of us. Brian’s tone made us run. I squinted at the dark figures as we approached. Jace was hunched over, elbows on his knees and face buried in his hands. Brian sat to his right, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. The girls quickly sat on each side and I dropped to my knees in front of Jace and rested a hand on his knee.
“What’s wrong?” A very sensitive Esther whispered with tears in her eyes.
I noticed Jace’s slumped shoulders begin to shake. Was he crying? I looked at Brian expectantly.
“God brought back a memory”, Brian explained, “some seemingly insignificant occurrence when he was young. Jace was talking about it and he just started bawling. I think what he needs right now is for us simply to pray.”
Jace sniffed and tried to control his shaking voice, “I don’t wanna…I don’t mean to put you guys through this….you can go.” He looked up hesitantly. I knew he needed our assurance. I could see the question in his pleading eyes, “Will you reject me if I cry? Will you leave too?”
“No.” I whispered reassuringly, “there is no other place we would rather be than right here, right now.” The others agreed and in our hearts, I knew we meant it.
“It’s ok to cry Jace”, Brian urged, “just let it out. We’re not going anywhere.”
Among the safety of friends, Jace began to sob, his broad shoulders slumping under the weight they had carried for years. And we began to pray. As we held Jace and spoke, God tenderly led our words, words he had been wanting to say to his son for a long time. “You are enough my son, stop striving. You try so hard to be my warrior, but you already are. You are the strong warrior I count on. The strength of this world is not true strength and being broken before me is not weakness. My son, I love you. I will show you true strength. You are enough…you are enough.”
God’s healing words were like rays of light, piercing the dark wall of lies that had entombed Jace’s heart. With each penetrating truth, Jace sobbed harder. A loud cry of surrender that seemed to come from the very bottom of his soul.
As I kneeled before Jace, exhausted and knees wet with dew, a deep sense of honor washed over me. What a sacred moment I was chosen to be a part of. My heart whispered thanks as I watched the tender hands of the almighty cradle Jace through his unfamiliar time of vulnerability.
Life with God is like that. Give love and truth enough time and it will expose what is not genuine and restore what is not whole. And sometimes, when I pay attention, I recognize moments of beauty; moments when Jesus heals the brokenhearted and sets the captives free. Oh, how I long to linger in them.
As we finally stood, we embraced in a big group hug. Six unbelievably alive souls huddled under midnight stars. Six hearts, each lead to that camp for a reason, with different strengths and different hurts but loved by the same great healer. I picture God in that hug, his arms encompassing the group. Loving us so that we, in turn, can love others.
2 thoughts on “A Testimony Of Emotional Breakthrough”
Crying..wow that’s so powerful🙏🏼💕 thanks for sharing, Gayle!!
Thank you. God’s heart is so tender, and I love how he is always setting us free.