my CR testimony...

Welcome friend.... 

my Celebrate Recovery journey... walking with God...

The reason I came to CR was to understand and address my sense of rejection and disappointing myself, others and God.  I have struggled with:

• Guilt, shame & self-blame.  I was confused by a mix of feelings I could not clearly articulate to myself or anyone else.
• Forgiving myself for sins I committed over 40 years ago.  I have struggled with pride that made forgiving & forgetting difficult.
• Periodic episodes of sadness that I could not explain.
• Regular bouts with negative self-talk triggered by faulty inter-personal communications where I would get angry or highly agitated.
• Isolation from community, not engaging in community.  I was happiest when I was alone or with immediate family.

My name is Rob, I am a follower of Jesus Christ, and I am glad to be here.

On a pain scale of 1 to 10, I have hurt at a persistent level of 4 for 30 years.  I retired from a hospital system 2 years ago, and it is my observation that a good deal of pain management is about the patient’s perception of pain.  Pain is different for different people.  However distorted my perception of reality was, I was functioning, largely fulfilling all my responsibilities and obligations.  But my wife and kids were very aware that I had a consistent battle with disappointments and sadness.  The rollercoaster of my symptoms were always there in the background and would present when my coping strategies failed.

I felt like I have been running a race for 40 years with a very heavy backpack loaded with rocks.  These rocks represent my issues, real & imagined, identified & unidentified; the hurts, hang-ups, fears, shame and lies I believed about myself that I carried with me day and night, year after year.  At times in my life, I simply wanted to get this life over with as quickly as possible, as I had little real hope of getting better.    

As a result, I tried various strategies to help me cope and feel better about my lot in life.  I largely coped by escaping to daydreams & fantasies, exercising to exhaustion, or pulling away to cry myself to some sort of release. I felt like I had to bleed off the poison in my system, and these practices seemed to help.  I masked a lot of pain by stuffing it in various compartments.  Men tend to compartmentalize their feelings, while women generally connect their feelings with everything else they experience.  Stuffing my feelings only compounded & delayed my ability to connect the dots & make sense of my own story. 

Most of my struggles occurred in my work life, where dreams of working for the family business or having my own separate business had died over time.  In this life I had pursued doing what made the most money by programming & supporting computer systems rather than doing what made me happy. I disrespected myself for this choice.  The condemnation and self-blaming was there standing in the wings ready at a moment’s notice to start a negative self-talk cycle.   So often & so hurtful.

From my perspective my career was a constant struggle to provide for my family.  After getting off active duty, I effectively worked two (2) jobs for the next 15 years by participating heavily in the Navy Reserve.  The Reserve was a positive in my life and helped me keep my head above water financially & emotionally.  But it was a liability to the majority of my employers as I had many additional weeks of military service each year.  The stress of trying to keeping my primary employers happy was often impossible, making some layoffs inevitable during my 40 years.

Struggling to prove my worth to others was pretty consistent.  This aspect underscored my sense of disappointing others over the last 35 years.  My pain was such that when I actually received positive feedback or a compliment, I generally discounted it as manipulation, or sloppy evaluation processing.

Even as a follower of Jesus for many years, my practice was to volunteer and do things to try and make God like me.  Obviously, I did not have a very good level of intimacy with God.  I felt I had disappointed Him.  I was trying to make up for my failures, and as such I simply found myself on a treadmill that just kept getting faster and faster, and I couldn’t keep up.

So much of my story is rooted in my family of origin…

I love the quote from Socrates “The unexamined life is not worth living”.  I tend to be an introspective person, wanting to understand myself, my motives, and better ways to cope with my struggles.  Like many, CR has helped me to see that most of my issues began with my family of origin where I first encountered rejection, emotional abuse, and bad counsel.

I grew-up here in Tulsa, in Brookside, near the old Brook Theater on 34^th street off Peoria with my biologic parents, and a younger brother and sister.

My parents were older, having married after World War 2.  They were college educated, well-traveled and had had significant responsibilities during the war.  While they were somewhat similar, their personalities and approaches to life were very different.   After the war, my father was self-employed in the oil business, a “dry hole” dreamer, where ‘nothing is impossible’ and the next oil well will bring in a fortune.  He made most of his income being a land-man selling dreams of riches to poor farmers by being empathetic and encouraging, just like with me.  On the other hand, my mother, the more dominant parent,  was a frustrated 1950’s housewife & mother, gifted intellectually, representing the stern, no-nonsense, competitive, fearing what others thought personality of my parents. 

Growing up, my mother regularly used ‘shame’ to encourage my behavior and performance, while my father represented the antidote to shame of ‘empathy’ and act as the healer to the wounds inflicted by my mother. 

As a young child before I was 8, I had several medical complications, staying weeks in the hospital following surgeries or transfusions, which resulted in being closely monitored and controlled by my mother. As I grew up, my father was always encouraging me to risk and try new things, while my mother would explain all the reasons why I couldn’t do what he suggested.  Her management style gradually strangled the last aspect of love & respect I had for her by the time I reached 12. 

From my research on developing healthy boundaries, I have developed a better understanding of how my mother’s practices undermined developing appropriate boundaries in our relationship. As I grew older, I needed & wanted greater independence and ability to try new things.  It’s the way healthy baby birds leave the nest.  This wasn’t happening for me and I resented it to the point of rebellion.  Then during the period when I was 12 to 14 years old, I began to respond with anger & open hostility on several levels.  Persuading my father to side with me on some issues simply provoked my mother’s fury at both of us as it exploited an issue in my parent’s marriage unknown to me.

During this time I was subject to a fairly consistent message of disappointment from my mother.

Like a dripping faucet, she told me: 

• I did not measure up;
• I wasn’t doing things right;
• I wasn’t like the other boys;
• I was different;
• I was strange;
• I embarrassed her.

I was a disappointment to her. 

The darkness of her moods, the hurtful words, the supposed accidental cigarette burns, and those periodic slaps across my face, created a threatening, if not hostile environment for me.  I daydreamed regularly about being an orphan, free of my mother.  I was angry, but I did not know how to express it.  I needed help, but I did not know how, or who, to ask for help from outside my family. 

I just remember wanting her out of my life.  I remember strongly disliking her, dare I say, even hating her, wishing she would simply die.

• I wanted freedom.  I wanted to be valued.
• I wanted for myself what I saw happening for my friends in healthier families.  I refused to submit, be demeaned or threatened by her any more.
• I had tried everything I knew to please her, but nothing work and I was tired of trying.

As a result during this period, I tried to spend as much time alone, or with my father when he wasn’t traveling or working.  He was clearly the weaker, non-dominant parent, but I found an ally in him.  He encouraged me and helped me to gain confidence. Simply being around him helped me cope and feel better about myself.  He always seemed to be able to fix my feelings and offset my mother’s crap.

Then a very, very strange thing happened…My mother died.

While I was at school one day, she simply and suddenly, died of a heart attack.  No symptoms ahead of time.   She was gone.

In reading about the most traumatic events that can happen to children or adolescents, the death of a parent is one of the most devastating.  The research shows that adults who experienced this in childhood are more likely to develop mental health problems, including anxiety, mood, or substance abuse issues.  For me, time stood still.  And like some museum of the macabre & grotesque, I kept revisiting the event and the time leading up to it over & over.

My feelings of that day were strangely mixed.  Shocked by the events, I was realizing I had gotten what I had been wishing for.  My mother, my tormentor – was gone, once and for all.  The loss seemed minimal, if not positive. 

As days passed, I fell in line behind my father, as 2nd in command and we moved forward.

• I felt a relief from a sense of oppression.
• I felt could breathe again, not having to walk on 'egg-shells' in fear.
• I felt a freedom, knowing I wasn't going to be abused in one form or another. 

As the days and weeks passed following her death, my father validated everything I did to help him.  It seemed like it had been years since my efforts, contributions & worth as a person, had been appreciated.  This felt so very different.

But there were storm clouds on the horizon.

Within a year, I experienced a new terror.  Condemning voices in the night would tell me that I had killed my mother.  I had successfully wished her dead…. it had come to pass, just like I wanted. 

There was a 1961 Twilight Zone episode I remembered distinctly where a young boy could wish people into the cornfield as scarecrows.  If an adult crossed the young boy, he could wish them to their doom.  In my mind, I had become that young man in the TV show.

My father tried to reassure me that it wasn’t my fault…  I hadn’t killed my mother, but I wasn’t convinced.  His reassurances didn’t work this time. I could not handle the guilt. Something felt very, very strange this time. 

I was quickly finding that a dead antagonist can be worse than one living. 

The family joke was that we were a very spiritual family.

Although I attended church sporadically as a child during my early years before age 7, it was largely driven by my father’s mother, my grandmother, who was a pillar at the downtown Presbyterian Church.  But there were things I was now hearing and experiencing from my father that was flowing against me.  There was a spiritual darkness that reined in my family that was now coming to light following the death of my mother.

My father had been greatly influenced by his father, my grandfather, who had been, an Indian agent in Oklahoma territory before statehood.  My grandfather had strongly embraced the pantheistic beliefs (spirits in all things and forms) from his association with the Indian tribes with whom he worked.  He was fluent in four (4) tribal languages, highly regarded, and well versed in their Indian culture.  As a result he had accepted and incorporated many of their spiritual practices into his life.  My father had been strongly influenced by this, and now I began hearing much more about my father’s perspective to life. 

It seemed my father’s approach to God produced a Heinz-57, ‘many paths’ to God type philosophy, having been raised by a pantheistic father and a Presbyterian mother.  Regardless of what you believed, my father would agree with you.   

My father would tell us stories about his father, my grandfather, communicating with the dead, those who had died and “crossed over the river” to the other side. He acted as a medium, or such, to facilitate getting messages back and forth.  Apparently, my grandfather had done this fairly frequently and shared his experiences with my father.

Although my grandfather had died years before my mother’s death, the recounting of my grandfather’s experiences by my father, with what I now believe were evil spirits, or demons, not only frightened me, but seemed to substantiate and give power to the voices I was hearing in the night during this time period.

Not being spiritually grounded in Christ, nor having a sound moral compass cultivated at this point in my life, over the next few years, various sexual sins started occurring frequently.  With my mother gone, my father transitioned from being a weak father to being an older peer-buddy, talking freely about his sexual exploits during World War II in the Navy.  He subscribed to a variety of 1960s-vintage pornographic magazines and made them available for our consumption & instruction.  And similarly to having coached me in little league baseball, my dad began to coach me on how to exploit women for sex.  As an ignorant 16 year old this seemed to be a pretty good deal, but little did I know how it was hardening my heart by making women sexual objects and setting roadblocks to developing healthy relationships later. 

Knowing what I know now, being a husband, father and grandfather, having raised 3 children, it amazes me that God navigated me through these very dysfunctional beginnings.  Without Him, I was certainly headed down a very dark and dangerous path.  Praise God - He had different plans for my life.

How my recovery started…

My long term recovery course correction started several years later when I met my wife-to-be at a dance. It was similar to one of those ‘chance’ meetings where a couple falls in love at first sight. 

My experience was very similar.  There was something uniquely different about this girl, named Cathie, from the first day we met.  She was unlike any female I had ever met. 

As we dated over the next four (4) years:

• I learned that she was nothing like my mother.  Cathie was quite different from her, in fact, she had a personality more like that of my father.
• I found women could be encouraging, trusted and safe with whom I could share my fears and dreams.
• I also learned that my father’s perspective about women and relationships wasn’t very accurate either.

Cathie was an agent of change in my life.  Over time as my relationship with Cathie became more serious, I started attending church with Cathie & her family.  There I learned about God’s forgiveness, grace and redemption.  Within a couple years, and a series of Bible studies, I went forward, accepting Jesus as my Savior, and was baptized.

Although I was growing in my understanding about God, I still was very sexually active in all my dating relationships.  At some point, Cathie and I were discovered to be having premarital sex.  Although we were not pregnant at the time, I felt we needed to marry to address the personal shame and embarrassment I had brought to Cathie.   That, plus Cathie’s father said if I didn’t marry her, I’d never see her again.  I rationalized that since we were serious and had planned to marry in a few years, we could simply marry sooner and be together while I was on active duty in the Navy.  It was a ‘shotgun’ wedding of a sort, with strained relations to go around; an absolutely horrible way to start a marriage.

Obviously, I felt the circumstances surrounding the timing of our marriage disappointed a number of people.  I needed to make things right.  These emotions and sense of failure at several levels leveraged off my past and undermined the early years of my marriage with Cathie.  My mother’s message of disappointment seemed to rear its head again.

I was certain Cathie was disappointed in me & I could not cope. 

At the two (2) year point, I initiated a legal separation from Cathie while I tried to sort out my feelings of self-blame, shame and failure.  I was sure that I did not deserve someone like Cathie.  I had placed her on a pedestal, and was convinced I did not deserve her.  It was a very sad, difficult and heart wrenching time for us. She was so wonderful, and I knew I was unworthy, so I pushed her away.    

During these months I  acted out in all my old coping behavior patterns. After some time apart had passed, I was encouraged by some friends on active duty, and my father, to talk to a professional counselor.  It was a time of despair and darkness for me and I really needed to see someone.

Eventually I found a Christian counselor in San Diego, affiliated with a large Baptist church, College Avenue next to San Diego State.  Within a couple months afterwards, Cathie and I met regularly with this counselor, who equipped us with some constructive strategies for saving our marriage.  The Christian counseling that my wife and I received was a very real ‘life line’ that rescued us.  It helped us to begin to using better tools for communication, conflict resolution and safety in our relationship. After 9-months of separation and expert counseling, we started over.  That was April 1974.

But even with the healing of our marriage, the counseling did not seem to address many of my other hurts outside of that relationship.  While my marriage seemed like an oasis and place of safety for me now, I had great difficulty making application in other areas of life.  My symptoms of shame and feeling like I disappointed my friends, employers and God continued.

I had such a difficult time not revisiting the events and circumstances surrounding my mother’s death in my mind. It’s like how many people, including myself, are drawn to viewing detail images of disasters over and over and over.  It was as if I was stuck in a loop, one that kept my self-blame bonfire going.  It was a way that I fed my hurts and prolonging my pain without knowing it.

I could not get past this unresolved hurt with all the negative messages constantly playing in my head – I had no idea of how to break free.  I read many books, trying many different approaches to self-help, but nothing seemed to help.

Over the last 30 years, I have considered different strategies to deal with my sense of shame.  While I tried some employer provided counseling, I failed to fit into one of their categories and it led nowhere. I also had tried sharing my issues in a men’s Bible study I had been in for over 20 years, but that didn’t work because I discovered a “glass floor”.   My Bible study guys didn’t want to hear 'my stuff' as it would somehow obligate them to share their stuff.  I also was confronted with the 'Word of Faith' followers here in Tulsa that would tell me that my problem was my lack of faith; I needed to pray their prayers and 'stand on scripture', believing God could be magically controlled through my will & actions to obtain the outcomes I wanted or thought I needed. 

I couldn’t find a place where it was safe or appropriate to process my feelings and issues, strange as they were, with somebody with whom I felt 'safe'.  While I looked for other options, I also believe one of my biggest stumbling blocks had to do with the lie that since my issue had to do with my mother, my masculinity was threatened.  I felt very trapped and bound by my hurt.

CR becomes an option….

I was encouraged in 2007 when I first started hearing about Celebrate Recovery, and learned that it was starting in my home church, Believers Church.  But I was confused, like some of you might be, whether CR could address my issue.  In the beginning, I thought CR solely dealt with addictions, and problems like mine were not significant enough to be involved in the program.  Little did I know how wrong I was. 

I learned that any problem, any problem, that stands between me and my God is worth pursuing to resolution.  My issues created noise in my head making communication with God more difficult.  They worked to perpetuate lies I believed about myself.  My issues warped my theology of what I believed and how scripture gets applied. I learned I have an enemy that has been successfully tripping me up over more years than I want to acknowledge.

With Celebrate Recovery, I found a safe place, with some safe Christian brothers with whom I could unpack and evaluate my issues.  There are well defined principles based on the Beatitudes.  Quite predictably, I found that most of my issues started with my family of origin and I needed to breakdown larger issues into smaller ones so I could examine them.

I found the actual 12-step process, and specifically the issues inventory most helpful.  Having coordinated many large projects in my career, it is essential to break a project down into its lowest level of simple tasks, so the task can be reviewed and completed.  The Step-4 Inventory was and is particularly helpful to me because it broke my issues into smaller parts that I, along with the Holy Spirit, could examine, consider and begin resolving in a healthier manner.   It was like I was finally able to take off my backpack of heavy rocks and sort through them with the Holy Spirit, deciding which to leave behind, and which were mine to carry.

When life issues are dissected this way, much of the emotional energy associated with an issue is released. I also found that when my issues were broken down, my triggers for acting out were much easier to identify, and hopefully, short circuit, if and when, they resurface. 

I also learned in CR to ask clarification questions of others and God.  In the past many times, I would misunderstand a communication and presume I had disappointed someone, somehow.  Now I clarify and gain a more correct understanding of an exchange.  It sounds so simple, like ‘keep coming back’, but I was not practicing this and reaching completely erroneous conclusions & roadblocks.

Another practice, I am striving to implement is the Daily Inventory.  I have an electronic document on my desktop that I try to complete periodically (daily would be nice) to help me stay on track.  With Christ’s help through this periodic data download practice; I can be more spiritually aware and closer to where I should be in my faith journey.

During this whole process, the scripture on which I have focused is Matthew 23:25-26.  Its part of one of the devotions we read in CR.  It reads "Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence.  Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.” 

I have found CR to be my vehicle for learning how to do my proverbial dishes, with God’s guidance and help, to scour my cup, my dish…come clean, both on the inside, as well as the outside.

So what are my main CR take ‘a-ways’?

In Christ, the acknowledgment of my brokenness is the first step toward healing.  Opening up and being vulnerable is a strength, not a weakness as the world says.  I no long see admitting that I have issues as being anything but ordinary and common to everyone ever born.  It is so freeing when I accepted I wasn’t the only struggling believer.  Being honest with God allows me to be honest with myself and others.  Life is better.

In Christ, I am enough / my best will do just fine.  The negative messages from my past do not control my future.  The lies do not have to persist and rule over my life.  Inviting God in to break these bad, poisonous cycles is critical to get traction and move beyond my immediate struggle.  I have experienced first-hand God interventions in this area time and time again.

I have also learned to value community.  I cannot function by myself and expect a good outcome.  I need others to speak into my life, challenge my perceptions, and journey along me.  I am not complete without all of you.  I think it is so very interesting that as children, we grow up learning what it means to be male or female from our parents, adults and older children around us.  We learn how to related in healthy ways, confident in our value to contribute.  If that picture is warped it affects the rest of our lives.  What I thought to be true and correct proved to be wrong.  Expanding my circle of friends with others in a safe program like CR is so very important to me.

I have also been convicted through engagement with CR that I need to be more grateful.  I periodically lose perspective, not counting all the blessings that I am experiencing, but rather choosing to look at the negative issues that crop up every so often.  I also need not to practice “foreboding joy” which is the practice of expecting doom & disaster around every corner – I am so good at that.

I love serving in Celebrate Recovery alongside you.  I love that we can support without fixing, praying for one another and help with some of the heavy lifting that comes with the spiritual warring we do on one another’s behalf.

Lastly, please make every effort to reconcile with folks while they are alive.  This is not a joke.  Death can lock in unfinished business and produce regrets you cannot imagine.   So pay attention and take the first step if you can to make amends and reconcile where and if possible.

In closing...

I have found that Celebrate Recovery has become the church experience by heart has always wanted.  This is the church model I see in scripture.  I view it as the model of what Jesus wants for us, His church.  In the brokenness of our human life experience, coupled with the completeness and fullness of God Himself, faith has traction.  Miracles happen and healing is a real possibility.

May you be blessed… with sufficient courage, resolve, and confidence to engage with the Celebrate Recovery process.  May you be blessed... to finally be open & real with God, yourself and others, and walk out your own personal recovery.

Thank you for your time & I am honored you heard my story.