The self-centredness in woundedness

I came home from work early today in some kind of screaming agony. I don’t know what I did to myself this morning, but I went for a jog, then vaguely felt something pull while getting ready for work, then by the time I had then walked in to work (it’s been raining, so I don’t cycle when it’s raining – and someone took to the work bike rack with a bolt cutter the other day, so it is just as well I have a rubbish bike) it was all hurting.

But I think I have been here before. It’s when my pelvis gets somehow out of line (probably pulled out of line by muscles or hamstrings that don’t get enough stretching in my case) and it puts pressure on the sciatic nerves. Then, land sakes, the pain! There is this kind of pinched nerve fire that runs down the front of both legs and radiates out everywhere. I only stayed at work in my torturous chair as long as I did because I had a free 15 minute massage booked in, and I was living in hope that somehow this would fix me. Alas, no.

Then I came home and pulled out the sheet of exercises I got from the physio once upon a time and have been stretching about trying to fix myself ever since, only it’s not working. I am also cursing myself for not being more diligent and preventative in doing them. Sitting is not proving comfortable no matter how hard I try and I jammed up against a hot wheat bag just now, but I have been trying to do some reading, when I am not rolling around on the floor.

Anyway, the fact that I have just rambled on for so long about how I am hurting is a nice segue into the real point of this post. What I have been trying to read this afternoon is the second chapter of The Meaning of Marriage by Tim Keller. Recently I have actually been ruminating, all by myself, in reflection on how I have been behaving in certain situations, about how wounds or fears or insecurities can make us selfish in relationships. That is, if you want or need the other person to do certain things in interactions, either because they, or someone else, has hurt you before, you are more or less being self-centred. And when self-protection becomes totally inhibiting (even when it’s understandable), it is much the same thing.

Then, lo and behold, I just came to this section in the book called The Wounds We Carry. For starters there is the definition: ‘”Woundedness’ is compounded self-doubt and guilt, resentment and disillusionment.” Keller writes about marriage and how people often come to it with a history of mistreatment, and how in conflict those memories can sabotage them. Then comes this (the last paragraph is what I found particularly compelling (and challenging) and I added the emphasis, but I shall give you some lead up):

This [the self-absorption] is not hard to see in others, of course. When you begin to talk to wounded people, it is not long before they begin talking about themselves. They’re so engrossed in their own pain and problems that they don’t realise what they look like to others. They are not sensitive to the needs of others ... We are always, always the last to see our self-absorption. Our hurts and wounds can make our self-centredness even more intractable.

...

[Then he talks about how in one common way of dealing with wounded people] ... we give wounded people almost nothing but support, encouraging them to stop letting others run their lives, urging them to find their dreams and take steps to fulfil them. That, we think, is the way to healing. But this approach assumes that self-centredness isn’t natural, that it is only the product of some kind of mistreatment.

...

The Christian approach begins with a different analysis of the situation. We believe that, as badly wounded as persons may be, the resulting self-absorption of the human heart was not caused by the mistreatment. It was only magnified and shaped by it. Their mistreatment poured gasoline on the fire, and the flame and smoke now choke them, but their self-centredness already existed prior to their woundedness ... This is not to say that wounded people don’t need great gentleness, tender treatment, affirmation and patience. It is just that that is not the whole story ...

The rest of the chapter is worth reading also. It’s a different, yet related, issue, but sometimes I get so annoyed with myself. I say to myself to put my security in Christ so I can do something like walk on up to someone for a conversation, without being afraid of them, essentially because I’ve given them too much power to cause me pain (or I am crippled by those sabotaging memories of past pain), and time and time again I fail at it. So then the rest of the chapter went on to talk about the ‘Fear of Christ’ and being controlled by the reality of God’s love for you, that was talking to me from two angles.

In closing, Andrew Cameron has written a nice post on being married for twenty-five years too.