All of us come with a
house on the inside that people helped us build. Some of us , we bring a shack
and then we can’t help but involve other people in our losses. It seems safer
to fake our way and keep trying, but if at some point we don’t go back into the
shack and let somebody in there, we’re just going to keep retching our poison
on everyone around us; especially the people we love the most. ~ Wm. Paul Young
Prior to Christmas, my sister in law Mara sent me a text with a simple message:
Had I seen “The Shack?”
The answer was yes, many years ago…but up until recently, I
did not see the direct correlation to my life- with the exception of the loss
of a child.
What Mara did not know was that a door had been re-opened to a place within me, to my past experiences and to my current situation of displacement. She could not have known that I would find a series on Amazon called Restoring The Shack, with the author Wm. Paul Young delving deeper into the fissures of his own fractured life, his guarded secrets and ugly truths.
Ever since “The Shack,” was released in many forms out into
the world, there have been an endless stream of God incidences- where timing,
setting and circumstances all fell into place- to create a ripple connection to
“The Shack.” Mine included.
“The Shack post is about me coming to terms with my own
ghosts and releasing my hold onto Angels, which are needed elsewhere.
Knowing what I do now, I have come to a place of
understanding and acceptance. Where my own book, “Under the Sitka Tree,” has
more in common with Wm. Paul Young, than people realize…this includes myself.
In my own novel, there are things that are not what at first
they appear to be and that is on purpose.
From an injured bird to a treehouse and the Sitka Spruce
itself, reader’s are taken on a self- discovery voyage of themselves. Each
thing represents something bigger and speaks to the light or darkness inside
ourselves.
Born William Paul Young, in Grande Prairie, Alberta, Paul’s
life would be on a trajectory course that saw his pain collide with his
addictions, childhood abuse and loss of self-worth.
Paul say’s, “We have to find
a way to let someone into that space of sadness. We’re designed to be in
community. We’ve never been designed to be alone. We have to begin by taking
the risk of telling the truth, of speaking things that are real, of going back
into our histories, and into our shacks and talking about our great sadness.
Its hard to apprehend God, to
comprehend God, especially not directly. A lot of times we’ve tried to do it
with our minds and rationality. It’s not that this is mindless, but the best
way to comprehend the character and nature of God is through metaphor and
story. It meets us as a whole person.
“This is the metaphor of The Shack. Our parents impact our
theology. Our theology then re-parents us. The ripples of their choices and our
interaction with them, continue.
And it becomes the place
where we then hide all of our addictions, and we store all of our secrets. A
place, where we never want to invite another human being into our space,
because we are terrified that they are going to hate us the way, we already do…
The shack is the house on the
inside that people help you build, and some of you, you got good help! You had
parents who were present and wanted to Love you and did, who wanted to encourage
you and did. Who affirmed you. So some of the inside house, for some of us are
habitable places.
But for a lot of us, its just
a shack and that shack is the house that is our Soul, it is our Heart and for
some of us…it’s broken.
Our parents had a huge impact
on us, either because of their presence or because of their absence. Those of
us who grew up orphans or who grew up losing a parent early, or with abusive
parents, were greatly impacted by them.”
I experienced two of these, in the form of traumas.
.***
STORY.
Everyone has one.
Actually everybody IS one and every story matters. -Wm.
Paul Young, “Restoring the Shack.”
***
So let me now share the metaphor of my book, Under the Sitka
Tree and some of my own story…
The Sitka represents shelter, a safe refuge, where
friendships grow, and secrets are shared. The tree is an anchor. A connection
to the roots of those who immigration journeys, find them in a community that
thrives on acceptance, love and family values. The Sitka is a beacon of hope in
the shadows, when others feel all is lost; a haven where broken hearts are
mended, and forgiveness can be found.
Peel back the layers of bark and then you will discover the
simple truth- the Sitka is the cross that you carry; a place where your wounds
are on display and all your burdens are laid to rest.
Each of us bares the weight that the enemy has burdened us
with. For me, at the beginning Sitka was my daughter, her ‘good heart’ shining
through. Then in December 2011, when she was trapped under a frozen reservoir
and passed away, the shame began to eat away at the dry rot of my shack.
Back then, Sitka was still an unfulfilled promise and thus
began a cycle of poverty, tied to my guilt of not being able to save my
daughter’s life. My self-worth anchored to my remorse; I had brought darkness
to my story.
In reading my novel, everything that happens at the tree is
symbolic and has the elements of my faith journey, intertwined with its roots.
What became of my repeated history, is tied into a legacy of
dysfunction, turmoil, and the inability to let go.
***
Growing up, my mother always terrified me, and I could not
understand why I felt I was the source of her rage and unhappiness. Her birth
name meant ‘woman of sorrows’ and I believe she felt it was a curse. Later in
her life, she literally removed and changed her first and middle name. I
believe she too felt her connections to the darkness, had followed throughout
her life.
I was raised
believing that behind her emptiness, there was a mark upon me that would lead
to a lifetime of my own pain and suffering. That try as I might, to get through
to her tough, thickened exterior- someone else or many- had come along and
crushed every bit of human emotion, from her.
I grew up, never knowing how to accept a compliment or how later
in life to welcome the words shared by others:
“I am proud of you!”
What my childhood taught me was endless ways to hide my real
feelings, I learned to endure at the hands of my stepfather, many beatings and
sexual abuse, where after time…I had mastered not to exude a single tear. This
only incited him further and there were many days, I would go to school covered
in an itchy turtleneck and long slacks, to cover the colours of purple, greens
and blues that were a roadmap of abuse- imprinted upon my 7 year old body.
In Under the Sitka Tree, I wrote from a place of anguish and
with such intent that I wanted to shine a light upon domestic and childhood
abuse. The lurid topics, no one is comfortable, in openly sharing.
“There is NOTHING that
destroys or dismantles the Soul of a human being like sexual abuse.
What happens is as in my case
and many others, you build a façade around who you really are, because the
truth is, you feel so far gone that you don’t really understand who it is that
your suppose to be? You learn to adapt, to change to various people’s
expectations…all the while looking back in the mirror is a stranger, staring
back at you.
We are as sick as the secrets
we keep.” -Wm. Paul Young
In the original storyline of Sitka, one of the main
character’s experiences trauma, in addition to being witness to her mother’s
own victim of domestic abuse. Attending a well known Writer’s Conference, one
publisher said dryly that he was alarmed at the degree of violence against
both mother and child.
I flatly replied, “In the time it took you to read that
short passage, that ‘degree of violence,’ is actual reality for 1 in 3 woman
and millions of children, worldwide.”
In writing
these two parts of my first blog of 2022 and without a dear friend knowing what
it is I was working on, she emailed me about an organization, in Victoria, BC
called “Wear2Start.”
This is a
place where women fleeing domestic violence, sexual abuse, are newly
immigrated, and can re-integrate back into the work force, by receiving clothes
for upcoming interviews, courses and appointments.
In operation
since the early 2000's, Wear2Start is a non-profit society run entirely by volunteers.
They help women referred by agencies that provide educational, job training,
re-training and job preparation programs who then require a work wardrobe.
I watched the
4.5 minute short video, whose heartfelt story of one of its key founders and
first president, is Kathleen McMullin. I am including the YouTube link. This is
their story.
I want to
shed some light on something that is directly connected to myself and also my
mother.
“Part of the devastation of
sexual abuse is that it absolutely destroys your inside boundaries.”-Wm. Paul
Young.
When I first began fleshing out the characters of Sitka, the
young girl was meant to have been a survivor of sexual abuse. I recall one day,
as I began to write the chapter where violence and mayhem unfolds, my hand
began to tremble. At first, I thought it was from my nerves and revisiting past
traumatic experiences. Then a feeling- as if there was a fire burning strong
within, overcame me- it was then I realized the power I had inside my pen.
I felt a surge of bravery coursing throughout me, and it was
then I understood that my character- while yes, there would be a traumatic
event, this little girl would not be a victim of sexual abuse. While she was a
survivor of a harrowing ordeal, I wanted the character to have unwavering
boundaries- a stronghold that I never had in my own life.
So, instead of having chapters filled with the painful
subject matter, I focussed on what it was like to see bruises cover my own
mother’s body. The time, I saw her in the bathtub, nude and shivering with the
black and blue imprints of a fist, covering her whole. In her trembling hand, a
glass filled with the brim of whiskey.
As I write this, that glass has never left her hand, as my
mother doesn’t drink for enjoyment, no-she drinks to obliterate a past that
clings upon her skin- like a rapid dog, bent on never letting go.
One other thing that was important to me in my writing, was
to share the thread of multiple losses- what it’s like to have the man you
believed to be the only true father figure in your life- to be taken away, at
an early age.
My father Ronald Hancheruk, was someone who battled his own
demons and I only have few memories that didn’t involve alcohol. However, there
was a feeling of being loved by him.
So much of his ‘walking out of my life,’ left me with such
abandonment and rejection issues that I carry them to this day. At age 41 (when
I was 17 years old), and right before Christmas, my father died of Cancer.
Years later, my daughter would pass away at 21. The raw
grips of bereavement saw my dad pass on December 16th, 1988 and my
daughter die on December 12th, 2011.
I never knew my father was dying and therefore as a
consequence; there was no goodbye’s.
Later, as I continued to work on my book, “Under the Sitka
Tree,” I would weave a thread of grief for Skylar Reigh Falls, to her own
father’s early demise. For I felt there was unfinished work in my shack that
needed to be re-visited.
As I watched the series on “Restoring the Shack,” my heart was
resonating with the beautiful truth of how it all came together. For when
people pick up a book, they do not see the labour of love, the rejections, the
healing that goes into a work of fiction or non-fiction.
The Opposite of more is
enough -Wm Paul Young
Paul wrote the story on a train bound to one of his three
jobs. His wife Kim had encouraged Paul to write it as a gift for his children,
since they didn’t have lots to give for Christmas. He went to office depot and
had 15 copies of “the Shack” made and to be given as gifts.
It was soon shared to friends and so on.
When it was actually sent to 26 various publishers…it was
REJECTED 26 times!
Wayne Jacobsen and Brad Cummings had a Podcast that went to
150 Countries, 45 minutes a week.
Overtime, it went from a Christmas gift from a father to his
children, to 33,000 in 30 days and the publishers who had turned Paul down,
were now interested in his book.
He received a call from Barnes and Noble, who said, “Normally,
we charge a lot of money for a publisher to put their books at the front of our
stores nationwide. It’s called placement. Would you consider allowing us to do
this for you for three months….FOR FREE.”
In the first 13 months from May
2007- June 2008, 1.1 Million copies of The Shack, was shipped.
There is more to the
extraordinary story and when I watched the series and the truth unfolded, by
Paul’s owns words, I sat in awe of how a gift for his children, has sent
ripples out into the world and into my own life.
***
Fast forward to 2022, and I am in a place of shelter; provided by someone whose love for me, has seen ripples of her own kind heart, gift many blessings.
This is a humble woman, who was there for me in all three of my times of displacements (amongst many others) and I know within my soul, I would not be alive, had I remained sick in my car- when the latest cold snap happened. For the device I had placed on my heart in August, does not do well in the chilling temperatures.
If I found myself in Alberta or anywhere north, God only knows what would happen?
My recent connection to "Restoring the Shack," came because of the tender heart of Mara, asking me a simple question. We also share in the journey and sudden loss of our children. Her grief wraps around her daily, as reminders of the immeasurable loss of her son Matt, which lead me to the series that I did not know existed before.
I have another thing in common with Wm. Paul Young. We both like questions. I also love research and seeing how one small thread, can weave a tapestry of relevance and understanding.
It was what connected me to another place of evidence that God is in the details.
Last night, I was in the midst of the series, where the next Episode 13 is titled:
“Coincidence Has a Name.”
In my room, I am warm, content and thanking God for another
day. As I await a follow-up call from an Intake Worker, my days here are
limited. Therefore, I am using this time to reflect, to learn, to forgive
myself and heal from all things that the past 50 years has been dragged along,
in my life.
I know- like a rapid weight loss/ detox, I am unravelling and immersing myself into a type of self-care, I've not experienced before. One where I have a definite understanding that me - in control- has never flourished into anything good.
Settling into watch the next episode, within the first few minutes of Paul’s re-telling, I know that he is speaking of the story I heard years ago, during my first displacement and living in my car.
Thinking back to that winter night, when I pulled over beside a frozen pond and turned up my radio...the notion that a couple had been brought to a specific place, all due to them wanting a picnic, re-instilled in me, God is so good. Listening to PRAISE 106.5 FM, a Christian station, licensed out of Lynden, Washington, I heard the story about a couple, struggling with loss.
I felt the tears flow, as they shared their own story connection to “The Shack.”
What happened, as I wrote my first part to my blog, was I had my earphones on listening to Paul, and typing away my own thoughts. I was relaying the story above, when suddenly on my laptop screen, Paul begins to share the very same story on, "Restoring the Shack."
As I write, I realize there is so much more to the Wm. Paul
Young’s stories, his words and the series that has to be told.
Going back and
forth in comparison of both novels, lives and the heartaches of both Paul and
myself, my book has the very same thread as of Paul’s. In that our stories are
two-layers: one is the fictional world created to mask the reality of the
writer’s world and the other layer, reflects on our personal relationship with
God.
I will be sharing more in Part 2, as there is more to coincidence
has a name.
With every exceptional story, ever turned into a movie,
there is a soundtrack. The first time I heard the American Christian Rock Band
Skillet, was when I fell in love with their song “ANCHOR”. I bought the CD and when my little red car
had the stereo system working, I had their CD on replay for every road trip.
The song is not heard in the actual movie, rather on the soundtrack of “The
Shack.”
Skillet -“Stars” (The Shack Version) [Official Music Video]
By TL Alton
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