Stepping Aside and Embracing a Rarely Used Path to Healing

The Mystical Self

The Mystical Self
Thirteen years ago, I began to explore spiritual truths on a far deeper level than ever before. I had to. After years of working tirelessly to heal my childhood wounds, life brought me to my knees. I found myself abandoned by my children’s father, raising four children on my own while also caregiving for my terminally ill and severely disabled father. At the same time, I was finishing grad school and starting a private mediation practice to support my family.

As a child, I had always sensed that the world wasn’t as solid or permanent as it seemed but rather an ephemeral reality shaped by something greater. Growing up in a fundamental evangelical home left me little space to explore these truths outwardly. That didn’t mean I didn’t try. I remember being eight years old, explaining to a friend’s older sister that words had no real meaning. To prove my point, I repeated the word “word” over and over until it sounded nonsensical. I said, “See? It doesn’t make any sense when you really pay attention, does it?” She looked at me like I was crazy, and I decided never to share that insight again.

Beyond my fascination with words, I also saw the world differently—literally. At the age of four, I told my mother I could see patterns moving on surfaces. I’ve also always seen “visual snow” and the motion of light particles. It’s such a normal part of my experience that I don’t even consider it unusual. Later in life, I found comfort and understanding in biblical passages like:

“For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” 1 Corinthian 13:12

This part of me—the mystical self—has always known there is more to life than what we see.

But alongside this part of me exists another aspect: my ego self. And that self? It believes this world and all my misperceptions are entirely real.

The Ego Self
I was born into a violent home—one where adults fought each other regularly but also one where I, as a baby and child, was treated with violence. It was extreme enough to leave deep, lasting impressions on my emerging ego self:

• Trust no one.
• No one will take care of you.
• Hide your pain at all costs.
• Always give more than you have to offer.

This early programming set the stage for a life of self-betrayal, severe autoimmune disease (even as a child), and countless painful experiences. I grew up with a sociopathic mother and an antisocial father, and at 18, I married a narcissist. I gave up my academic dreams and had four beautiful children. At 36, my children’s father abandoned us, moving 2,000 miles away, taking our family assets, declaring bankruptcy, and underemploying himself to avoid child support. The ensuing court battle was a nightmare, and without the funds to hire a lawyer, I lost badly.

The Two Experiences
It amazes me that a single person can have such wildly juxtaposed experiences in life. On one hand, I’ve glimpsed eternal reality, a more vivid truth than anything material. On the other, I’ve endured some of the worst that humanity can dish out. These contrasting experiences have led me on a relentless quest for healing.

My Biggest Challenge
This year, I am committing to a journey of biblical reflection and prayer. I know it has to be more transformational than ever before.

I still find myself holding grudges against my children’s father. I still feel tempted to ask him to fulfill the court-ordered repayment from 13 years ago that he has never honored. My practical side wants to justify this: one of my children is pursuing an MBA this year, and the money could help him. It feels like a noble reason.

But I also feel bitter and angry. These feelings are fear-based, manufactured by my false self. I know better. I know that this earthly experience mirrors my beliefs and misperceptions. These feelings reflect the unforgiveness and resentment still lingering in me.

And here’s the thing, I do not want to act out on these feelings and misperceptions. Therefore, I will not ask my children’s father for anything unless it can come from a place of true forgiveness and unconditional love. At the moment, I’m not there.

This year Must Be Different

I’m finally ready to surrender and admit it: I do not know what healing is. If I did, I’d be healed of my grievances with my children’s father. And I’m not. So this year, my biggest challenge will be to walk in the truth that I don’t know what healing is—and to step gently aside and let God work in me.

I am reminded of Jesus’ words:

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28–29).

It sounds almost too easy, doesn’t it? But maybe that’s what Jesus meant when He said,

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you” (Matthew 7:7).

God doesn’t ask us to work for healing. All we have to do is ask and receive it.

Our human spirit knows this. Our ego insists we must earn healing, creating a self-perpetuating loop of fear that keeps us revisiting the past.

Journeying Together
This content may be challenging for people. It’s certainly challenging for me. And yet, I believe there’s an element of truth in it that speaks to something deep inside us all.

This year, I’ll resume blogging to document my journey of healing and transformation as I face my biggest challenge. If you’d like to journey with me or have questions, I’d love to hear from you.

Let’s step gently aside and see what healing awaits us.