Tormented Soul of an Empty Grave - Before I Knew You

By Shannan Starr

Tormented Soul of an Empty Grave

Things were beginning to take a turn for the worse.

I thought I had a handle on this thing, but this thing had a handle on me. Stress and utter fear internalized and cemented my soul into pessimism. There was no rest for me. I was rotting from spiritual and mental decay from the inside out. I wreaked of death, and I was the only one that could smell it. Grief hit me like a crashing wave, and I was sinking deep from within, deep within myself, within the confines of my own rigid mind. I took a look at the grave set before me, but it was empty! How could this be? Had I completely lost the little bit of sanity I had left? My God! You have to save me!

God revealed to me His ability to heal and set free…

“I will do all that you ask of me, if you want it, if you allow me.”

Only He could show me how to overcome death that did not die, flesh that could not cry, and release the extraordinary control I would hold on to because it was most important to me.

Jesus—Was I able to allow myself to bleed out for the sake of honoring God’s will for my life?

Before I Knew You

Drowning in the stains of childhood trauma, survival of the fittest became my motto. Crushing the tongues of those who had spoken against my destiny was every bit of the motivation I needed to survive…to thrive in a dark place where no light was visible to the natural eye. I was determined to not allow the abhorrent molestation, abuse, abandonment, and pure hatred control my life any longer, so I took a stand. But what exactly was I taking a stand for? Maybe it was to win the love of my abusers. Could it be possible to take a stand against the Almighty God Himself?

You know, taking a stand to find myself doesn’t sound too bad, right? There had to be some logical explanation for feeling empty inside of my own body. I once looked at my reflection in the mirror, and it stared back at me. Could standing in front of a mirror finally give me the answer I was looking for? I didn’t know if I was coming or going. I was lost with no sense of direction, and the only definite path to take was down. Whatever this thing was that I was trying so desperately to accomplish, it would ultimately turn my world “right side in.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781098048198

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Things had taken a turn for the worse. I thought I had a handle on this thing, but this thing had a handle on me. The stress had internalized, and at times, three to four days would pass by before I’d realized I had not eaten nor drank anything, except maybe a meal and a snack here and there. The separation from my husband and the way things went down just tormented me all day and all night, from the time I opened my eyes until I closed them.

The only peace I got was when I was asleep. But that ole enemy had a plan for me. My dreams became flooded with my husband. In these dreams, he would taunt me with horrendous words. He’d stand there and wait until I was so filled with anger, and then he would laugh in my face and humiliate me in front of the people that were around.

I’d wake to feeling extremely hot and covered in sweat from my body, literally responding to the emotions I had in my dream. Here it was that the only peace I could find was in my sleep, and now that had been infected with evil. Every night or anytime I would close my eyes, I would anoint my head and my body. I’d pray over my dreams and pray that God would even block me from having dreams, period. But the more I did this, the more intense and the more often these dreams would come.

I’d cry most of the day and night. It didn’t matter what I was doing. Many times, I’d just burst out in tears. I begged God to make it stop, but He didn’t. I got to the point of praying for my own death. God, please don’t let me wake up from this sleep. Just take me away from here. I can’t take it anymore. My children deserve to have a better Mom than me. I don’t care if I go to hell. Just take me, please? I prayed.

But nope! There I lay, bright-eyed and disappointed that God had not answered my call. There was no rest for me. That’s when the shift happened. Something in me died. I was rotting from spiritual and mental decay from the inside out. I wreaked of death, and I was the only one that could smell it. My moods became very aggressive, and even my temperament toward my children had changed.

Hitting one of the lowest points of my life, I tried to convince myself to become a drug-addicted alcohol-wasted nobody. So many times, I tried to talk myself into flushing my hurt away with drugs. I wanted to do everything I knew was against the will of God. Fortunately, I could never bring myself to do it. I don’t know how I would have ever been able to look my babies in the eyes and see their disappointment.

Deciding that I had enough of my own reality, one night, I talked myself into disappearing after my work shift ended. Something had a hold of me. I couldn’t leave and I couldn’t stay. I was just stuck. I was torn between two worlds, and there was nothing I could do about it.

It seemed that everything around me was a constant reminder of my failures, especially my job. I’m a home health aide with a very reputable hospice company. I had grown to become close with a few of my coworkers, and even they had no idea of the demons I was battling. The phony smile and fake happiness fooled them all. Some may think that being an aide is just giving baths and feeding the elderly. Not to mention, we have had patients as young as twenty-nine years old. Seeing that was a battle all its own.

But it’s far greater than that. Working as a hospice aide, I am witness to families not only grieving over the perceived death of their loved one but also the family quarrels that unfold, the discord that’s sown and spewed out on one another. I have the duty of helping to comfort and soothe these family members and friends as they grieve in their own ways. Some are angry and hateful, some are depressed and anxious, others are calm but broken inside. There were plenty of times when I had to get out of the room because I felt a volcano of tears about to burst through. For the most part, I kept it together. But not for long.

There is one particular night that will forever be burnt into my brain. We had a husband and a wife; I can’t recall which was the dying spouse. However, I was asked to position the one spouse in the bed in such a way that it gave room for the other spouse to lay next to their mate one last time as death was imminent. It was killing me inside. A flood of emotions hit me at once, and I didn’t know what to do. Anger, jealousy, hatred, self-pity, and any other emotion you can think of I’m sure came to me.

I went to my workstation and I completely broke. This time, I couldn’t control it. The tears soaked my scrub top, the anger bubbled up inside and turned into rage, and I just sat there, whimpering in despair. People were passing by, but not one noticed, and I honestly didn’t even care. I was tired of hiding my hurt and putting on a front. Could you imagine coming to a place where you are responsible to comfort patients and their families, and at times help them work things out while your own family is crumbling apart? I had taken a major blow that night. I couldn’t believe that God would allow me to go through something like that. Why, God, why? Why would you allow me to have to do this? I’m here every day, helping these people to hold it together, but I can’t even manage to keep my own family together. My marriage has failed, and yet here I am, in this place, doing what I can’t do for myself. Every night, I have to go to bed without my husband, and every morning, I have to wake up without him next to me. This is so unfair.

I was convinced that this was all my life was meant to be—heartache and pain. They say things get greater later. Well, whoever said that was right! Things did get greater, but not in a good way. Showing up for work became increasingly dreadful. Each time I gave a hug or words of comfort in condolence to a family, it was a lie. On the inside, I said to myself, Who cares? We all lose people. You are no different. That was just another demon to battle because the person I was becoming just wasn’t my true nature. I loved to love on and comfort people. I just couldn’t do it anymore. I didn’t even want to do it anymore. I wanted to be filled with hate so that I didn’t have to feel the reality of my existence.

Deeply hurt that I had to give myself in such a way, I grew tired of giving myself to people, period. I was done with folk, so I allowed my heart to turn to stone. The problem was, in giving so much of myself, there was no one to love on me. So I thought. Confiding in my two closest confidantes, my Beanie Baby and my Ahnnie Bear, they posed these questions: Whose love are you trying to give? How can you give something that you feel you don’t have?

As usual, after talking with them, I’d position myself before God and ask Him to help me understand. Father, help me to see this thing from your perspective. As usual, my Father would do just that. So every time I’d report for work, I’d worship and listen to praise music on my way there.

Taking time to meditate before I went in, I’d pray. "Daddy, I know that you hear me. I have nothing left to give. I recognize that you have placed me in a position such as this, although I don’t fully understand. Please grant me the grace to be your human extension of love. Breathe through me Your grace, Your mercy, Your patience and loving kindness, whatever it is that You see fit for Your people to receive. Allow me to decrease so that You may increase. Anoint my hands that my patients will feel You moving through me. I sign this prayer believing that You will do only what You can. In Jesus’s precious name. Amen."

I began to pray this daily, and God granted me strength to endure just a little while longer. Things were still in shambles, but the weight of the burden was being lifted.

God has a way of making all things work for your good.

A few years back, I was asked to participate in a platform service with four other ladies at New Life and Christ Ministries (Pastor James Simmons Jr. and Only Lady Cynthia Simmons). The theme of the service was Triple Grace. The focus scriptures that God gave me was Exodus 17:11–13. At that time the message given to me to share, it was the importance of unity within the body of Christ. In short, if we are not unified within the body of Christ, then what reason does the sinner have to submit their lives to Christ? They look at us and laugh. They can deal with all that foolishness right where they are. I had not known about taking the Word in and examining self first. I had no idea that I was being groomed for what was to come.

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