When I was 23 years old, I was stationed with the Navy in England. I had finished a very successful first tour at a major intelligence agency Stateside and was sent overseas to help bring a new station online. From the outside, I had everything going for me. Internally, I was crumbling. I used all my career successes to mask the trauma and pain I had from being a 9/11 relief worker, as well as other pain I carried. I did what the military tells you to do: keep moving forward. It’s much harder to hit a moving target. All of that ended up being a lie.
I didn’t understand it fully at the time, but my eventual collapse into Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder was a training ground the Lord used to call me to Himself and prepare me for those He would send into my life later. That period of my life was awful. I suffered panic attacks, night terrors, sleep paralysis, fatigue, insomnia, depression, anxiety, and I was held down and terrorized by dark forces in the middle of the night. The latter being a training ground for spiritual warfare which I wrote about last week. I was exhausted and could barely function. I spent five weeks in an inpatient mental health facility—a super posh one at that—finding my way out of the dark abyss I had fallen into.
It was during that time that I met my second spiritual father, Liam, who would have a profound impact on my life. He was a fellow linguist who had served in three of the four military branches over the course of his career. He was one of the most brilliant people I have ever known—and one of the most tormented. He died suddenly at 50 years old, thirteen years ago, on July 14, 2013. The last time I spoke to him, he mentioned that Our Blessed Mother was trying to lead him back to the Church.
He took me under his wing as if I were his flesh-and-blood daughter. His wife became one of my best friends, and their kids brightened a very dark time. They are the only people besides my own father to call me “Stanzy,” the nickname my dad gave to me, a nickname I won’t hear again until the next life.
They suffered tremendously, but it was through their suffering that they were able to love me deeply. Even though all of us were terrible, fallen-away Catholics trying to make our way back to the foot of the Cross, it was this beautiful, broken family that taught me real love. They did everything they could for me in their circumstances and helped me make the decision to enter inpatient care, which ended up being one of the best decisions I have ever made.
It was during that time that I began my long, winding journey back to the fold. It would take another 5 years for me to fully return to the Catholic Church, but the seeds began sprouting then. I met another Catholic family stationed with me who also taught me the value of spiritual motherhood and fatherhood. They took me into their home and treated me like one of their own. They met me at Mass and made sure I wasn’t alone. The Lord surrounded me with love as I underwent great suffering.
It seems fitting I first began learning about the power of spiritual maternity and paternity while serving in the military since comradery is ingrained into military culture. It is completely natural for older, seasoned sailors to take the younger, flailing ones under their wings. It fit. I am deeply indebted to both families for loving me and helping me navigate one of the darkest periods of my life. I couldn’t have done it without them.
All of this came flooding back as I came to realize that the Lord was using that period of my life as a training ground for His mission for me later in life. I was introduced to spiritual motherhood, which He has called me to, and to the difficulties of mental illness at a young age. While I have been almost completely healed, with the occasional trigger that I must work through in prayer, I know what it is like to find yourself at the end of what you can handle.
As a spiritual mother, I have sat in psychiatric hospitals with struggling young people. It was never a question of what I was supposed to do when their need arose. I simply went. In one case, I drove someone in need and sat with them at the hospital late into the night. The Lord is allowing me to share the gifts of spiritual maternity and paternity given to me with the young people He sends my way. My husband acts as a spiritual father to them, just as my own spiritual fathers did for me.
It can be very difficult to understand in moments of immense suffering why we are suffering. I didn’t understand it at the time. It was brutal, but no matter how hard it was, I knew I wouldn’t ever change having volunteered to be a 9/11 relief worker. It was worth the suffering. The Lord asks us to be poured out like a libation for others.
Decades later, I can see the tapestry a little more clearly. The suffering was not only for my own healing. It allowed me to experience in a deep way the anxiety and depression that many young people face today. I am a witness to the freedom that Christ gives and the hope that healing is possible. I used to be ashamed of my struggles during that period of my life because of the stigma in our society surrounding mental illness, but now it is a gift that I can share with people in their trials and tribulations. I’m proof there is light at the end of the very dark tunnel.
I also suffered four, long years of post-partum depression 11 years ago. Turned out, it wasn’t depression at all; it was a major hormone imbalance. I suffered at the hands of doctors who had no interest in healing actual women’s bodies. (One of the greatest injustices in Western medicine is women’s health, but that is a topic for another day.) It took a couple of bioidentical hormone shots to kick me out if it, but I know the pain and stigma of post-partum depression too. As a result, I’ve been able to minister to women in similar situations. I’ve been able to warn them of the signs to look out for and, if they arise, to tell them to find a Natural Procreative Technologies (NAPRO) or FEMM Health doctor.
I was reminded of that experience recently, where I ended up in a psych unit for a weekend 10 weeks after giving birth to my daughter, when someone in need of inpatient psychiatric care came into my life. When crisis hit, I knew not to take them to the facilities in my area, but instead to the one I had been in 45 minutes away, despite the late-night drive. I knew they needed a smaller, quieter place to go and that the nearby facilities would not be ideal. The Lord used that brief stint to prepare me for helping someone in need 15 years later. Another example of suffering being used for future purposes.
The Lord’s plan is beyond our comprehension. As the prophet Isaiah proclaims:
For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
nor are your ways my ways—oracle of the LORD.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways,
my thoughts higher than your thoughts.
(Is. 55:8-9)
The Lord is working on our salvation, deliverance, and healing throughout the long, winding path of our lives, but He is also working out the salvation of those around us whom He sends into our lives. Everything is intricately connected. We can forget that, especially in moments of agonized suffering. I have learned over the years, and frequently counsel people I minister to, that the Lord will glorify our wounds. Our entrance into the crosses of this life will give way to resurrection. It is precisely through our healing journey that the Lord wants to bring about His glory in order to save us and to save souls. I have witnessed this truth time and time again, as the threads of my life continue to come together in His plan. I see many of the sufferings give way to glory when the experiences I’ve gone through allow me to love and serve souls in crisis, grief, and pain.
The Lord doesn’t abandon us in suffering. With each struggle along the way, He sent loving people who showed me His mercy and love. He taught me the beauty of spiritual motherhood and fatherhood so that I would be ready to answer His call at His appointed time. There is a plan for our suffering. He uses it to save souls and to bring about glorious ends we couldn’t ever have imagined. We simply must choose to love as He loves and trust in His plan.
Photo by Dalton Caraway on Unsplash
