Our church was broken into last night.

Yikes.

The culprit busted through the window opening in the music office, tramped around the building in muddy boots, set off every alarm, and was present when a parishioner responded, hanging around and chatting for 15 minutes, alleging he had walked in through an unlocked door.

Once he left (5’10, average build, bearded caucasian, with mouthwash on his breath), the scene of the break in was discovered. 

A canvass of the property revealed nothing was taken and no one was hurt.

Perhaps like you, I feel violated and vulnerable. While it’s not a trauma like rape, murder, or death, it’s still traumatic. 

This time of year is fraught with trauma. If we’ve lost a loved one or been divorced in 2017, it’s a year of ‘firsts,’ i.e. first Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc. without ________. Or the holidays may dig up reminders of past trauma. 

And the notable thing about trauma is that we’re tempted to believe 1) it was all my fault, 2) this ruins everything, and 3) it’s bound to haunt me for life - it’s called personalization, pervasiveness, and persistence. Of course, it's mostly a lie.

A divorce, death, break in, or other traumatic event is rarely all our fault. It does not necessitate a negative impact in other areas of our lives. And we very well may get over it faster than we think. In the initial throes of a trauma it is important to heed the advice we hear in Sunday’s gospel: getting through trauma is not impossible with God.

As we approach the emotionality of Christmas, it is essential to remind ourselves of the detrimental affects of personalization, pervasiveness, and persistence found in traumatic events. God wants us to know we are often more resilient than we think, more capable than we think, and God is more present than we think. Our scars may run deep, but the love of God is always deeper.