The Gut-Punch of Betrayal

Lies.

Manipulation.

Broken promises.

Indifference.

Rejection.

Deception.

Betrayal.

Maybe it’s a betrayal of trust, or a betrayed friendship. Maybe it’s both. Regardless, they all feel like a punch in the gut. It’s a feeling so painful, even AI won’t generate an image for me! And image searches are mostly confined to the realm of athletics. In a ring or on a sparring-mat, getting hit is expected. It’s par for the course. If you are in the MMA, you expect to get hit. But in everyday life…?

The pain increases when the blow is delivered by someone close to you. A stranger who lies isn’t a big deal. But a friend? Worse yet, your family? Those punches seem to land so much harder coming from people you love.

Over the last week, I have had one or more of these blows delivered to me four times. People I love have intentionally and unintentionally done unloving things. Some know dang well what they did. Others may have no clue the way word or actions landed. But the blows landed hard. Honestly, I am emotionally beat up. I ache. Judge me if you want, telling me to “man-up,” but I hurt so bad I want to cry. I just can’t. I am too emotionally spent. There’s nothing left. I have felt mad, sad, depressed, frustrated, and alone. I am weary.

It’s made me wish that the writers of The Gospels had been more detailed. So Jesus was betrayed by Judas and denied by Peter. We know the stories of a kiss and of rooster crows, but we have to assume things. There’s not much internal dialoged available to us. I know how I have felt over the last week, but I want to know how Jesus felt when He was betrayed by those closest to Him. I assume His gut reactions to a gut-punch were similar to mine, but I don’t know.

Perhaps a foreshadow of His feelings can be found in Psalm 55. There is a lot in that Psalm that has resonated with me lately. History tells us that Psalm 55 is likely written by David about his son Absolam and his friend Ahithophel. But here in this Psalm, I find a biblical reflection on and response to the pain of betrayal.

“Listen to my prayer, God! Don’t ignore my cry for help…for I am overwhelmed by my troubles,” David writes. And I feel it. It’s so much more common to pray when we are in a crisis than when things are okay. I try to make it a practice to have an ongoing conversation with God, so it’s not uncommon for Him to hear my voice. But I tell ya, I have asked God to listen to my prayers quite a bit over the last week or so.

Often, those prayers are offered in isolation. When I get poked by a stick, remove myself from the situation. Maybe it’s part “turning the other cheek,” but mostly it’s so I don’t reactively poke back. When someone days/does something they shouldn’t have, the worst thing I can do is to escalate that by saying/doing something I should. And so I take flight. David echoes this when he writes, “I wish I had wings like a dove; then I would fly away and rest!” Sometimes we need to distance ourselves from the betrayal for a bit.

David then goes off on an angry tirade, telling God exactly what he thinks God should do. It seems almost vengeful, using words like “destroy them!” While I did/do not burn with animosity against the people who hurt me this week, I did express my anger to God. I needed to let it out. Being honest and transparent with God is part of prayer, even when it’s not pretty. And often, I am more transparent in my feelings with Him, so I can be more productive in my interactions with others. So, I let Him know exactly the way I felt, situationally and emotionally, and about the physical toll this has taken on me. I even told God that I had expected Him to intervene on my behalf, and that I was disappointed when it seems like He didn’t.

Which leads to something else David does in Psalm 55: he relied on God to remedy things. “The Lord hears my voice. He rescues me and keeps me safe from the battle waged against me.” I think it’s only natural to want to lash out. What is natural and authentic is often not what is best, though. We are called to something higher, so we have to reassess what is natural and embrace what is transformative. An unfiltered self will say and do things that are natural, but not necessarily beneficial. Striking back and seeking revenge isn’t in our job description, even if it is our natural inclination.

But dang, it hurts to be hurt. Deeply. I still ache days afterward. I am worn out. Weary. I’m on guard. Trust has been damaged, and I really just want to feel “normal” again. “Give your burdens to God,” David writes, “and He will take care of you.” I need to rest in Him and follow His lead for how and when I move forward.

I wish moving forward didn’t involve the f-word, but I think it does. Forgiveness. As an imperfect person, I need to realize that others are also imperfect. I just don’t want to admit that. I want to hold them to a different set of standards than I have been held to. Forgiveness is the one way to keep us from being resentful. For me, forgiveness is not allowing the wrongdoing to lead when I think of or interact with that person. I’s not forgotten; it’s just not what I choose to focus on. When I choose to forgive, even without an apology (or awareness that a wrong was done), that forgiveness is a green light for God to come in and clean things up like a one-stop divine hazmat team.

Clean-up often takes more time than the destruction, though. So one final response to betrayal is patience. And none of us has enough patience even though we expect more to be given to us than there is available. While I don’t know that “time heals all wounds,” I do know that nothing would have a chance to heal without time.

There’s this song by a Christian rock icon named Michael Knott. He fronted a few alternative bands and played the same Sunset Strip clubs and hotspots that other alternative bands did back in the 90s. Anyway, this one song contains the following lyric: “Cross me once and I’ll forgive you. Cross me twice and it gets hot. Cross me three times just remember, I am no Christ.” While that almost sounds like a threat, it does resonate with me a bit…

I hate the pain I feel right now. Especially when the beat-down has come from people I love. Often, it’s a onetime thing that occurred. In other cases, it involves situations that I have brought to the offender’s attention time and again. But betrayal doesn’t care about who hurt us, why it happened, or how long it’s been going on. It just hurts. And sometimes, we get struck more than one time. That song is correct: while I do try to do the right thing, “I am not Christ.” But I can strive to be like Him. It’s not easy. It may not even be fair. But God, please help me to stop hurting. Help me to not be resentful. And make a way for forgiveness flow through my words and actions so people can see You in how I respond to the wrongs done to me.