DON'T GO THERE

What do you do when your life is rocked through no fault of your own? I asked that after my family was hit by a drinking driver. Hundreds of miles from home, we had a totaled car and personal injuries. But we survived. The cuts, sprains, and broken teeth got repaired. The emotional and spiritual wounds, however, took time. That's why I was grateful for the principles expressed in a book by another drunk-driver victim, Whitworth College professor Gerald Sittser. One night in 1991, while Sittser drove his family home from an event, they were hit by a drunk driver  who veered into their lane at high speed. That man died—along with Sittser's wife, mother, and one of his four children.

Left a working single parent of three with a huge hole in his heart, Sittser somehow had to move forward. With God's help, he did. His book, A Grace Disguised: How the Soul Grows Through Loss (1995) wrestled with the why's of innocent suffering. That was followed in 2000 by The Will of God as a Way of Life (both published by Zondervan). Recently, re-reading that second book, I was struck by the succinct but powerful truth that we grow either better or bitter through hardship. And bitterness is a wretched way to live. Sittser wrote:

There is nothing we can do to change our past. It is as hard as granite, as immovable as a mountain. What is done is done. Regret, bitterness, revenge—none of these can alter what has already happened. No matter how many times we say “if only,” regret cannot alter our past. No matter how bitterly we brood, blame, and accuse, the wrong done to us will remain as it is. No matter how often we rehearse a plot of revenge, we will never be able to reverse the course of events that created our pain in the first place. Regret, bitterness, and revenge will only ruin us. We will become prisoners in our own dark souls, suffocated by our own brooding thoughts. (p. 159)

So what's the solution when bitterness is eating you up from the inside out? Sittser's counsel:

1. Confess your bitterness, failures and responsibilities to God.

2. Be willing to forgive. “The one who suffers the most from bitterness,” Sittser said, “is the one who is bitter. What infection does to the human body, bitterness does to the soul. It consumes. The antibiotic used to treat the disease of bitterness is forgiveness” (p. 163).

Research on mental health, he observed, has affirmed that “forgiveness mitigates depression and anxiety, increases self-esteem, and improves physical health and emotional well-being. It releases people from living in bondage and allows them to live in freedom. Forgiveness heals the soul” (p. 164).

In my case, I made something “good” of something “bad” by speaking out for sobriety for a decade at “education seminars” required of convicted drunk drivers. Sittser brought good out of his nightmare by searching scriptures and encouraging others in their struggles through his thoughtful, articulate writing and speaking.

But we don't need to speak and write to forge a path of healing through pain. This verse has been an anchor for me in my pain: “I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten” (Joel 2:25). The prophet was telling his nation (Judah) not to give up on God, despite a natural disaster (locusts that stripped the land) and impending takeover by an enemy nation.

Bitterness is a dead-end road. If life has brought us pain and sorrow, we can dwell on that and grow more bitter. Or we can shovel up those dead locusts that stripped our lives bare, and—with God's help--plow fresh ground for crops of hope and healthy relationships.