Sanctification by Illumination: A Review of “Make Sense of Your Story”
I am not someone who gives themselves over to dangerous situations. I’m also not what one would call “outdoorsy”. But when I’m with my father, I am instantly an explorer ready to take on the riskiest of expeditions. From my youngest years, I can remember following his lead through trails in various mountain ranges or the woods of the deep south.
A few years back, when my family traveled out west, my dad and bonus mom joined us for the adventure of visiting some national parks. As we explored the northern rim of the Grand Canyon, I reverted to my younger years. I followed my Papa’s footsteps as though nothing could ever be amiss in his guidance.
As my husband and children wandered around well-marked overlooks, my father hopped a wooden fence to venture just a bit further than everyone else toward the edge of the rim. He wanted to stand on the thirty feet of continued flat ground between the safety railing and the edge of the rim. Without any qualms or a second thought, I also hopped over the fence. I even asked aloud with genuine confusion, “Why do you think they put this fence here?”
I believe my father was aware of the essential boundaries to keep us safe. However, it is interesting how absurd I viewed the fence as an unnecessarily conservative boundary for the public. Rather than question my father’s sense of adventure, I questioned the societal norms carefully placed for the masses.
My brain automatically reverted to its childhood mode of operation without any concern. I followed my father without hesitation, disregarding the throngs of individuals staying within the confines of the fence due to the mile-long drop just thirty feet away.
Whether or not you realize it, your brain established some patterns and pathways in childhood that you carry around with you as an adult. These can rear their head in moments you wouldn’t expect, like visiting a national park. They can be the source of joy, like when you smell a chocolate cake and it reminds you of your grandmother’s cooking. They can be a source of pain, like when a remark from your spouse triggers a sharp response because of some relational dynamics you experienced growing up.
“Make Sense of Your Story” by Adam Young simplifies these complex neurological pathways we all experience that can wreak relational havoc. While the story I tell from the North Rim of the Grand Canyon is lighthearted and humorous, this neurological reality can cause confusion, relational upheaval and self perpetuated shame. We sense emotion from our most pain-filled moments over the span of a lifetime and we adopt it as data for today’s conversations and circumstances.
I have recommended this book to many friends and clients. One friend sent me a text after reading it, “I’ve read and reread ch 4-8 several times. Guessing most of it is very familiar to you. But it’s kind of rocking my world”. Regardless of the reader's knowledge of neurobiology or level of trauma experience, Young weaves together why we feel stuck in emotion. What causes us to feel crazy in relationships. He puts words to our implicit experiences so our minds not only comprehend a clearer reality but can also grasp a new sense of hopefulness because of God’s love for us.
In His great sovereignty, God created us with neuroplasticity which enables this good work of sanctification. We must name emotions such as sadness, fear, anger and disappointment. We must lament those emotions produced over a lifetime of experiences. As we do so, we have to embrace how an omnipresent God could have prevented the stories that produced the pain we carry because of them. These understandable laments must be named so they can be brought to the feet of the resurrected Christ.
I was inspired in a new way to continue my own story work in the final chapters when Young challenges the reader to dare to hope. He compares a lack of hope to barrenness found throughout the Old Testament. This fear we all have that keeps us in the land of lament and negates a spirit of anticipation. Lament is not simply being devastated by sorrow, but also expressing it to God without dilution, or self protection. It is God’s kindness that we feel. Our brains are created to alert our bodies to what we feel. Why would He not want us to express these resulting sensations to our kind Creator? “How can God respond to the deepest cry of your soul until you have become clear about what that cry is and how–in your story–that cry came to be?” (pg. 209)
Most poignantly, and my very favorite pages of the book, is a poem written by Adam titled Jabbok. This expression alone, why God wrestles with His children, is worth the purchase of the book. The value in being pressed to the point of extinction, in a spiritual, mental and physical hold is an avenue of grace. It is how we engage with the closeness of our Creator. So our Father can bear witness to every cry of pain. We must voice with demand in our devastation our feelings so that we can accept the true relief found in His compassion.
Somehow, Adam’s words reach through the printed page, grab the reader and provide a space of safety. Using the words of Scripture, a freedom to feel and express and heal permeates as the pages turn. Wherever the reader is placed spatially becomes holy ground as the Holy Spirit shines a giant flash light on the heart of the reader. Bringing light to the darkest crevices of our hearts with confidence. Knowing whatever is found, while it does deeply affect us, it does not define us.