Firemen and policemen become the perfect idols for little boys. Little girls on the other hand, with their innate, eternal longings to be loved and protected, often find themselves seeking protecting figures all the more. No matter how big we grow, there'll always be that vulnerable part of us that remains as that little doll yearning for protection and love, longing to be rescued from the dark forces of this world.
In times of need, we constantly look to those higher, bigger, wiser than us for advice and protection. Even Grown-ups do so, and sometimes to their own detriment when they place their security and expectation in ageing parents, abusive or irresponsible partners, or untrustworthy friends, even. But even the most loyal of friends and family can't be there for us all the time, can't shield us from all storms, can't rescue us from every evil attack.
After all, they're human. Not Superheroes.
But the longing lingers. And we live our lives misplacing our security and pinning false hopes onto individuals, hoping, waiting, longing to be saved, valiantly rescued.
We wait for Superman, but he never comes.
I was at Sunday school the other day, and my first reaction to what I'd just heard was that of shock, followed by a brief repulsion and feeling disturbed, but soon after, amusement, being tickled, and only much later, awe and wonder at the profound wisdom of what had been said.
At one segment of class, the children were given some freedom to share whatever they wanted with everyone. One by one, brave souls trotted to the front to share with everyone the admirable dreams and good goals that had conceived in their little hearts of late. Their child-like innocence, goofy grins and yet bold announcments of purity and nobility could melt a heart of stone- it made you want to give each tiny tot a big, bear-crushing squeeze, and envelope each one with oodles of love. Then, a little boy with a huge mop of curly hair ran up to the mike sheepishly and said, shyly but surely, " God says I can be Superman, and I can be real good!"
There was a split second of stunned silence.
Out of the ordinary, quite. No?
The statement disturbed me considerably, and I won't deny that I frowned. What a dangerous thing to think for a child, I thought. What do mean an invisible being told you that you could be a Superhero. Did He tell you that you could leap off buildings and fly in the skies, too? Oh dear, I thought. Oh dear. I must have looked like I had been scandalised, as if someone had just publicly cursed me on the podium during the opening ceremony of the Olympics.
But it was the Grown-up in me making the judgement, and I forgot, that children often express themselves hyperbolically, and his idea of goodness, strength, integrity and helpfulness merely translated into an action figure he found he could relate most closely to. So the audible silence broke into laughter, amusement and relief after that seemingly dangerous-sounding statement was clarified and understood on his level.
Dangerous-sounding, and yet, that statement was, in a way, profoundly true. Wise, even.
It lingered in my spirit and for days, I could not shake it off.
God says I can be Superman, and I can be real good.
I had hit another rock in Recovery. The demands of medical school and various stressors bearing down all at once had finally bore into me and the discouragement ate into me like a worm.
I hadn't seen Ed for a long time, but Ele appeared sometimes, acting as Ed's snare. She was sometimes there in a red-and-white swimsuit with her yellow float when I went swimming, and unconsciously, I'd wish for my superhero to come swoop down and save me from drowning. As therapy sessions got fewer and farther between, I found myself having to rely more and more on what had been built within me previously during the journey. But things got hard, and one day, overwhelmed by it all, I felt hard-pressed on every side, crushed, almost. It was tempting to run away, to run back to what felt familiar.
Miss B* wrote to me, " This is actually what recovery is really like. It's not always easy. There will be times when you get stressed and it's not triggered by Ed but it'll make you want to run back to Ed."
"We're here to support you but not to rescue you."
How simple, honest and true. And profound, too. People are here to support us, love us, but not to rescue us.
Even when it seems so tempting for us to run back to grab a hold of that yellow float which we used to run back to for help, or wait for a Superhero to come save us, there comes a time where we need to brave the waters, gulp a few mouthfuls of chlorinated water, and learn to swim on our own.
There comes a time where we need to finally realise that as we lean on God's power, we do have what it takes to rescue ourselves.
God says I can be Superman.
And all at once, I understood the message behind the statement which dwelled in my soul and stirred within me. I think in some way, God says we all can be Supermen, not in a I-don't-need-anyone-else or I-am-invincible kind of way, not in a I-can-do-everything or I-shall-save-the-world-on-my-own kind of manner either.
But with Him in us, we can be Supermen, in the sense of finding security, protection and courage from within, without outwardly pining and desperately looking externally for some man in blue tights and red underwear to save our day. We're here to support you, but not to rescue you. How many of us are often disappointed by others who just aren't able to solve our problems, because in truth, it's really not their responsibility to. There is a place in Recovery for seeking help and making connections with others, and yet, another milestone is also in reaching a place where we can find enough strength within ourselves to solve the little crises which crop up and allow them to toughen us up, without succumbing to despair or waiting for a Superhero to swoop down and catch us before we suffocate under the waters.
How ironic, I thought, that when I first put Ed onto paper in a drawing, it was Miss B who noticed before myself- "Why, did you realise you've drawn Ed as if he were a Superhero?" It was true, and I hadn't even realised it. Whenever things got dark, Ed became who I ran to, who I chose to be rescued by because he was most willing to. It was a short-cut, the easy way out.
Little Anna, Ele, behind a mirror, and Ed
But things are different when we trust in God, in His infinite goodness and grace for us. With His strength in us, all we need is Him. And with His power in us, perhaps it isn't such a far-fetched idea to think that with God in us, we become like Superheroes, too. Not that we become infallible, invincible or unstoppable. Not that we suddenly grow Phelps-like muscles overnight and swim through the currents like a torpedo. But simply, becoming more secure, stronger, and steadfast within ourselves; more able to save ourselves by the divine wisdom deposited in our spirits; more able to rely on our emotional resources, built up from studying God's word, when the currents flow against us.
Are you tired of waiting for your superhero who never shows up when the storm rages, the floodgates open and the waters start to rise?
And so now, I can smile when I think back upon that curly-haired boy who raced to the mike to say "God says I can Superman and I can be real good."
Because maybe it's not so dangerous, not so scandalising, and not so far-fetched after all to think perhaps then, that really, it makes perfectly sound sense to say that-
-because of God's grace, power and love with us...
... we truly can be Superheroes in Him, and we can be real good, too.
All posts under the link Therapy chronicle her journey to recovery from Anorexia and depression with professional help from the team at the Singapore General Hospital. By sharing her journey, she hopes it will help shed light on these highly misunderstood illnesses, and encourage those of you considering professional help to take the brave step forward to confront your challenges. No one recovers by themselves- take the first step foward.
*Miss B is the principal psychologist at the Life Centre department of SGH.
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