Does my love protect those close to me? When my daughter was young, this was a driving concern. I did my best to ensure she had the most responsible babysitters and attended the best possible preschool. I guarded her influences, in relation to television shows, movies, books, and music, according to our family values and her emotional capacity. For example, I knew 101 Dalmatians gave her nightmares and Adventures in Odyssey captivated her and led to precious conversations.
But I failed to protect her from my dysfunction. I didn’t realize the wounds I carried from my childhood, my ingrained unhealthy responses, and how these affected her. Because I hadn’t learned to deal with my overwhelm in frightening situations, there were times when I, in essence, left her emotionally abandoned. My insufficient self-regulation also caused me to shelter her from situations that God intended for her growth. My failure to deal with and appropriately discuss the anxiety undergirding all this conveyed to her that the world wasn’t safe.
Praise God, He’s done a lot to repair the damage my ignorance created. However, if given a “do-over,” I’d seek therapy sooner.
I recognized that circumstances in my childhood had caused me pain. I also knew how I didn’t want to parent and worked hard to live out how I did want to raise my daughter. My husband and I attended marriage conferences where we learned to fight for our relationship and joined Bible studies on how to build our home on Christ.
The Lord had also brought me incredible healing and transformation. The woman who raised our daughter was drastically different from the foul-mouthed, angry, and manipulative young adult who once roamed the streets of Tacoma, Washington.
I thought that transformation was enough.
Some people mind find the Holy Spirit, Scripture, and a sound Christ-led community sufficient. I did not. I needed a trauma-informed, experienced, and God-led outside observer to recognize and break free from my stuck places so I could love more like Jesus.
According to Dr. Jim Wilder, often called the neurotheologian, we react to threats in one of three ways. We become predators and “power up," “lash out,” or seek to win arguments rather than guard relationships. Some of us become possums and “hide, avoid, minimize, withdraw, and conceal [our] weaknesses as much as possible.”
Then there are the gentle protectors. These individuals “have strong joyful identities that welcome others and have tender hearts toward weakness.” They “do not enable dysfunctional behavior but quickly protect the weak.”
When trouble comes, they act as a calm presence that, in turn, soothes others. The mom who routinely behaves this way teaches her children how to self-regulate in high-stress environments. Every time I failed to do this and, unknowingly, reacted to emotional triggers like a predator or possum, I not only left my daughter to fend for herself, but I probably increased her fear through my panic response.
Sadly, many of us grew up with wounded parents who lived on high alert and modeled poor coping mechanisms. This impacts our growth and perspectives. For me, maturing in Christ has involved learning and unlearning. As I come to know His heart and ways, I become increasingly aware of attitudes, viewpoints, and behaviors from which I need to turn so I can become more like Christ.
Throughout Scripture, God invites us to find shelter in Him in times of chaos. Here are a few of my favorite verses:
"God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging." (Psalms 46:1-3, NIV)
"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." (Isaiah 41:10)
"When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze." (Isaiah 43:2)
This last verse evokes numerous images. The first section reminds me of how God protected His people from an advancing army. When the ancient Israelites found themselves trapped with the Red Sea on one side and Egyptian charioteers on the other, He parted the water so His children could walk through on dry ground.
I’m reminded of when He stopped the flow of the Jordan River during flood season so the Israelites could enter the Land of Provision. I’m also thinking of when a pagan king threw three Hebrew men into a blazing furnace, how the Lord remained with them and brought them out untouched.
In each of these biblical events, He revealed Himself as humanity’s strong, protective, providing God. But the mention of water also evokes images of the steady and calming presence Jesus modeled in a dangerous storm.
If you’re familiar with the Gospels, you might recognize this story. This occurred near the end of Jesus’ first year of ministry. This was but three chapters after He’d called Simon Peter, Andrew, James, and John to follow Him and two since He’d officially appointed His disciples. Therefore, they were relatively new in their relationship with Him. Yes, they’d seen Him perform numerous miracles. They’d watched Him heal the sick and lame, cast out demons, and drive the religious power players from the Temple.
No doubt each of those events wowed them and bolstered their faith. Hearing about and witnessing other people’s God stories nourish our souls. But nothing impacts our relationship with Christ like personally experiencing His rescue when catastrophes hit.
Knowing this, and the maturity level to which He planned to bring them, He said, speaking of the Sea of Galilee, “Let us go over to the other side” (Mark 4:35, NIV). Then, they all climbed into the boat and pushed out from shore. At some point during their 13-mile journey, a life-threatening storm arose. While they panicked, Jesus slept.
Why?
He knows all things, which means He knew the squall was coming and how terrified His disciples would feel. In His perfect love, He identified with their pain, just as He does ours (Matthew 25:40, NIV). Considering who He is, in all His vastness—His wisdom, power, character, and heart—we must conclude that His directing them to the storm, and sleeping in it, came not from lack of concern but because of it. Everything He did and allowed in that moment helped prepare them for the challenges they’d later face.
Jesus built the disciples' faith muscles in the storm. But notice, also, while He didn’t shelter them from the wind and waves, neither did He abandon them.
As a recovering codependent, I find this intriguing—and convicting. This account, along with the story of the fiery furnace, reminds me that protective love doesn’t always feel loving or protective in the moment. It prayerfully considers how God might be using today’s hardship to lay the foundation for tomorrow’s victory.
I often joke about how I’m getting a parenting do-over with our doodle puppy. When we first brought her home she was, understandably, frightened of nearly everything. Prior, her world consisted of her pack, the breeder, and the gentle sounds of the countryside. Our still-emerging neighborhood, on the other hand, is loud with a busy street behind us and banging-clanging builders on every side, at times, riding on large equipment.
Initially, our Bean wouldn’t venture far from our door and trembled at every unexpected sound. Having read about what trainers refer to as the “fear imprinting” stage, I realized I needed to gradually expose her to a wide variety of encounters. But I also knew forcing her forward when afraid would hinder her trust in me. And so, I remained with her. Initially, I picked her up, held her close, and spoke in a soothing voice as I walked past whatever alarmed her. Next, I led her by leash, crouching to her level every few feet to allow her to run into my arms.
Although she still acts skittish in new situations, overall, she’s now a happy, curious, and adventurous puppy.
I’m teaching her that the world is generally a safe and enjoyable place, and she’s teaching me how to act as her gentle protector. While I obviously won’t receive that do-over I wish I had with my daughter, I can learn to remain a calming presence when she comes to me in a state of emotional overwhelm. And while I can’t erase all those years tainted by my dysfunction, I can protect my loved ones from future avoidable harm by becoming the healthiest and most mature version of myself possible.
These are some of the ways “love always protect.”
Photo Credit: ©Paweł Czerwiński
Jennifer Slattery is a writer and speaker who co-hosts the Faith Over Fear podcast and, along with a team of 6, the Your Daily Bible Verse podcast. She’s addressed women’s groups, Bible studies, and taught at writers conferences across the nation. She’s the author of Building a Family and numerous other titles and maintains a devotional blog at JenniferSlatteryLivesOutLoud.com.
She’s passionate about helping people experience Christ’s freedom in all areas of their lives. Visit her online to learn more about her speaking or to book her for your next women’s event, and sign up for her free quarterly newsletter HERE and make sure to connect with her on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, and GodTube.