Beyond Me. Carroll E. Arkema

Op. cit., Luke 9:28–29

11. Op. cit., Exodus 26:30.

12. Op. cit., I Corinthians 3:16.

      David, Goliath, and Psychotherapy

      Here’s one way that psychotherapy heals:

A patient13 very carefully helps me see

      The subtle nuances of what she reveals

      And, teaching me, sees herself more clearly.

      Sometimes I just don’t get it at first:

      The details of what she’s explaining to me.

      But that is actually not only all right:

      It sets the stage for the healing to be.

      Before each time she sees her mother,

      She is troubled by the ongoing fact

      That she inwardly prepares by arming herself

      To fend off mother’s critical attacks.

      Preparing for mother’s lobbed missiles

      Is actually great progress in fact.

      She’s come to realize it’s her mother who’s mean,

      Rather than believing she deserves the attack.

      It’s taken some years to establish this;

      To believe that they’re not a merged unit,

      That she will survive outside mother’s orbit,

      Even though mother will be importunate.

      It’s hard for her to believe this isn’t selfish

      (As her mother continues to aver)

      And that accepting her mother’s position

      Will actually be the living death of her.

      But she’s taken repeated little risks,

      Of standing in her own separate space,

      Instead of rebelling and protesting

      Which only keeps mother’s terms in place.

      She’s longed to get out of this cage,

      To climb off the spinning hamster wheel,

      To believe she has a right to her rage,

      Which she can use to set herself free.

      So I ask “Isn’t protection a good thing?

      Not be ambushed by mother’s attacks?”

      She pauses. Then instantly it hits me:

      She wants to be with mother relaxed.

      She wants to be a little more separate,

      And inwardly a little more secure.

      She wants to go about her own business,

      Not worrying about mother’s manure.

      Then she makes this most thrilling connection;

      Excitement almost lifts her from her seat:

      The biblical story of young David,

Who girds for Goliath’s defeat.14

      He took off the armor Saul gave him,

      With its weight he couldn’t even move.

      He went forth as himself, with his staff, sling, and stones,

      Empowered by his trust in God’s presence and love.

      Part of the power of a really good story

      Is that each character is one part of us;

      King Saul here insists that David wear armor;

      Just like my patient, he at first thinks he must.

      But once it’s all on, David too takes exception:

      He can’t move freely with the weight of Saul’s gear.

      The armor at first seems to offer protection,

      But now David sees that it’s a mask for his fear.

      David in the story is the one who’s outside.

      He comes on the scene provisions to provide.

      He sees armies preparing each day for a battle,

The enemy’s psy. ops.15 is Goliath’s proud prattle.

      But his strutting on stage is a giant distraction,

      Of course neither army really wants to fight.

      They’re locked in this drama of mutual destruction

      Stuck in two options: domination or fright.

      Fear plays a big role in the story,

      But David isn’t caught in its grip;

      He dares to imagine the giant can be killed,

      But his brother gets angry when he hears of it.

      He tears into David with a vengeance,

      Accusing him of evil and presumption;

      That entertainment’s his real reason for attendance,

      That even as a shepherd he barely can function.

      We begin to see David’s resiliency.

      He shrugs; says, “What have I done now?

It was only a question.”16 With agility

      He turns away and moves on from the blow.

      His courage reaches the ears of King Saul,

      Who summons him to give an account.

“Let no one’s heart fail,”17 David says,

      The Living God’s spared me on many a count.

      Through David, God enters the story;

“The Living God,”18 David’s wont to say—

      Implying that in contrast to God’s glory,

      Without God, it’s death that holds sway.

      So David takes off all the heavy armor,

      Which along with the taunts is pretense;

      He’s a shepherd with five stones from the wadi,

      The Living God is his certain defense.

      It’s human to believe we’re in charge,

      That whatever we accomplish is ours.

      Through David the story reminds us,

      That without God our strength is but dust.

      It can be scary to believe in oneself,

      Especially without a mother’s blessing;

      But, as my patient knows, to be anyone else,

      Leaves one fearful, angry, feeling “less-than.”

      David isn’t rocked by the giant’s deriding.