ONE SUCH AS ME?

One person’s response after reading my book, ONE SUCH AS ME:

“I found it to be a very interesting read, in part because it is so factually grounded, from your own notes made over the years.  The value of peer support, that led to Living Room, is well documented and explained, so makes absolute sense.  Your book also demonstrates in it, the value and indeed need, for spiritual support as well as medical and emotional support.”

But he thought it ended a bit abruptly.

Yes, it’s true that my story ended abruptly. That was because I had promised that this book would only be about the best part of my life. In truth, some very bad things started happening for me when I decided I should retire from leading my group. That point came when I found I was no longer able to keep up with my work as facilitator. I even wondered if I might be in the beginning stages of dementia and decided I should withdraw from the work so that a healthier person could take over.

I’ve had to do a lot of soul searching to decide whether I should tell you this part of the story—the pain that’s still affecting me in a huge way. Am I overdoing it to tell more? I’ve told so much about my pain already. But the story would not be complete without hearing what happened at the end.

I reconnected with a friend from the past not too long ago. I’ve had to tell her how few people could understand the pain I live with. Shortly after I retired from my group I started to be treated badly by a couple of people, with words and deeds. As though I was evil, even though I had done so much good. By the end I was ostracized by my church and lost the good reputation I had built for 14 years. It was as though I had been crucified. Only Jesus could understand my pain.

The entire story I told about the good I had done, in my book, ONE SUCH AS ME, was forgotten. Wiped from people’s memories by the smear campaign that followed. My friend seems to want to reconcile in some way by brushing the truth of this injustice under the carpet, denying what happened. Wanting it to be forgotten. Protecting those who hurt me maybe?

But pain like that cannot be forgotten or healed until the truth is faced. Injustices in history are meant to be learned from so that they don’t occur again.

And so, I must share with you the rest of my story over the next few mailings, hopefully also telling you how Jesus was there with me throughout.

marja