Launch Your Well Being

How Long Does the Wound from Spiritual Abuse Last?

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 20 May 2026 11:03:40 GMT

Life has a way of confronting us with difficult challenges. Suffering spiritual abuse in a church is one of those times. When we’re thrown into an intolerable situations, our emotions play havoc with us. The shock of such behavior from the perpetrating Christian that we trusted is devastating. It’s like a storm has hit, destroying everything in its path, and we’re left with the aftermath. That aftermath can last a really long time. And we learn that what’s left in the remaining is the continuation of the wound, the hurt. I know the truth of that very well, because I’ve been there. In fact, the “remaining” can last for the rest of our lives.

And so please understand what I’m going to say here. I’m not being crass or misunderstanding of how bad spiritual abuse hurts. It’s just that “in the remaining” lies our healing, if we can only see that possibility and, if not yet, then someday, have the courage to look at it.

When we’re in the middle of strong emotions, it’s the most natural thing in the world for them to be front and center. Because we are angry, or desperately despondent, or stressed out. Here’s the challenge: Perhaps on the “someday” we will decide to try to find something positive about it. And that we don’t have to let those feelings rule the day any longer. While we do need to pay attention to the anger or sadness or exasperation, or whatever the feelings are, if we only continue to behave in the heat of them, then there’s a day coming when we may well wish we had reacted differently than we did.

So here’s an invitation. It may sound strange, but I’m inviting you to try it. Invite Jesus into your emotions, asking him to help you find a blessing that could grow out of your broken heart. I know, I know, that probably sounds wonky, but do it. Pray that prayer. Invite him into your emotions.

A lot of our “churchy” language tells us to invite Jesus into our heart. In a way, I suppose that could be the same as inviting him into our emotions. But saying it with a different twist just might give a new insight. For example, have you ever prayed, “Lord Jesus, come into my anger and resentment right now. I invite you into the middle of my mess.”

Remembering to invite Jesus into our emotions while in the heat of strong emotions is a real challenge. Wanting to do that in the heat of the moment is a challenge, because the emotion has hold of us. But I can promise you, it’s the first step into finding the value of your brokenness. Invite him into your emotions. In His compassion, He will bring comfort, healing, and a sense of direction. One of my favorite Scriptures is II Corinthians 1:3-4

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”

Goodness knows we need comforting. The Lord pours oil on our wounds and stays with us as long as we let Him. The secret: Continue to invite him in, no matter what your emotions are telling you. If you do, you will find healing in the middle of the brokenness. Doing that is one way to live your life one day at a time, one minute at a time “in Christ.” The more we do that, the more we will experience His Presence in our heart, and the sooner we will feel his comfort. And that, my friends, can eventually, someday, lead us into a wiser maturity in Christ.

Therefore there is hope in the brokenness because we know it won’t have the last word. There is value in the brokenness, because in Christ, we are led into that wiser maturity in Him. It may take a long time to realize that wisdom, but it will come. May those blesssings be yours, if not yet, then very very soon.

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Forgive our Abusers? Surely Not, Lord...

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 13 May 2026 11:03:24 GMT

In Acts 6-7 there’s a compelling story of forgiveness. It’s the story of Stephen, a man among the first deacons of the church. Whenever I think of ultimate forgiveness, I think of Stephen. So here’s his story:

After the Holy Spirit descemded on the disciples on the Jewish Feast of Pentecost, the number of people who were converted to being a Jesus-follower, a disciple of the Lord – that number of people kept growing exponentially by the day. The original disciples, now called apostles, were kept very busy teaching and preaching. There was a growing need for them – or someone – to take care of the widows and orphans among them. So the apostles, led by the Holy Spirit, chose seven men to serve in that way. The Greek word for “serving in that way,” is “diakonoi.” Therefore when the apostles laid hands on these seven men and prayed for them, the Holy Spirit came upon them to be deacons. Diakonoi. Deacons. Stephen was one of the seven.

So, now everyone is happy. Everyone is being taken care of with compassion. Stephen in particular, felt the presence of the Lord with him in a mighty way. He even saw a vision, in which he saw the Risen Jesus, the Son of Man, standing at the right hand of God. And Stephen said so, in the midst of some dangerous company. Because, you see, that statement was heresy in the eyes and ears of the unconverted Jews. That’s why they “covered their ears, rushed toward Stephen, dragged him out of the city, and began to stone him. They kept stoning him until he died.

The curious thing is, just before he died, he prayed two prayers: 1. Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. And 2. Lord, do not hold this sin against them.

I say these prayers are curious, because that’s not our usual response to being wounded, is it. No, when someone hurts us, or someone we love offends us deeply, we rush to anger, don’t we? Our defenses rise sky high, and we want the offenders to get what they deserve. Isn’t that the response we humans usually rush into in abusive situations?

The thing of it is, when that’s our response, (and assuming we haven’t been killed), we begin to carry the heavy weight of un-forgiveness in our hearts and on our shoulders. We have taken on that burden (our emotions turned upside down) that can weigh us down for months, years even. And most of the time, we don’t even know that our un-forgiveness is making us sick.

Look again at Stephen’s prayers: “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit. Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” Who else can you think of who prayed prayers that sound like Stephen’s prayers?

It’s Jesus, isn’t it. While Jesus was on the cross, in profound and excruciating pain, Jesus prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

Stephen prayed those same two prayers that Jesus prayed, as he was being murdered. Stephen’s faith must have been deep and filled with the joy of the Lord. He was also utterly filled with the Holy Spirit. That’s why I think, he was able to utter those words, as his breath left him.

Let’s think for a minute before I come down too hard on those of us who react in anger to being hurt. (That’s most of us. I know I’ve been guilty.) When we’ve been really hurt, we really can’t forgive. Not in that moment. Not in the next moment, or the next. There’s a grief in our woundedness. The grief of not being able to ever return to the way it was before the offense happened.

It’s entirely human to wallow in our grief. It’s entirely human that we nurse our wounds. We might hear sermons about forgiveness, but that’s simply not where we are – to be able to actually forgive. Not yet. We can sense that to forgive them would bring upon us another grief – the grief of no longer being able to nurse our wound, and we don’t want to give that up. Not yet. We can’t see quite yet, that the freedom of no longer carrying would be profound freedom. A moment in which we could be joyful and at peace again. A moment in which we might even find ourselves praying the prayer of compassion for the offenders.

Believe me, I know we’re in the Easter Season, in which all is celebratory because Jesus rose from the dead. But we’re presented with the story of Stephen, on the 5^th Sunday of Easter. His story leads me to think and talk about the wounds that Jesus suffered. Remember the Resurrection stories that tell us that his wounds were obviously apparent in his Risen Body. His wounds didn’t go away.

Believe me, I also know that even after we’ve been able to forgive, and to pray the prayer that the Lord forgive our offender – believe me – the after-effect of our wound is still there. Something of it remains. It’s just that the wisdom of the Lord has entered the wound and transformed it. It’s in that transformation that we can pray the prayer of forgiveness.

Through the many centuries since the Resurrection, there have been any number of Jesus-followers, who, because they’re human, have understood the wounds – both theirs and those of Jesus. Their spirituality led them to find comfort by thinking of the imagery of their wounds being hidden within the wounds of Jesus.

I have found that kind of thinking and praying to be helpful in my own struggle to forgive. Perhaps you might find it helpful as well.

Here are the word to an anonymous prayer from at least as early as the 1300’s. It’s attributed to St. Ignatius of Loyola.

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SOUL of Christ, sanctify me.
Body of Christ, save me.
Blood of Christ, inebriate me.
Water from the side of Christ, wash me.
Passion of Christ, strengthen me.
O good Jesus, hear me.
Within Thy wounds, hide me.
Separated from Thee let me never be.
From the malignant enemy, defend me.
At the hour of death, call me
To come to Thee, bid me,
That I may praise Thee in the company
Of Thy Saints, for all eternity.

Our forgiveness is in Christ. Our ability to forgive is in Christ. He hides our wounds inside his. That, my friends, is why we can say “Alleluia! The Lord has forgiven me! I am in Him and He is in me.” And yes… “Lord, forgive my offenders, even as you wipe away my tears.”

Transition into Something New

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 06 May 2026 11:03:12 GMT

I’m in transition. I know that the Lord is in charge of it, and that I’m willing – so here we go… As most of you know, I’m a retired Episcopal priest, although the word “retired” should be in quotes. For about the last 15 years, I’ve continued to serve churches in part time capacities, such as interims and supply clergy on Sundays when needed.

For several months, I have been receiving those “inner nudges” that the time is drawing near for me to retire from those kinds of activities. “Inner nudges” that are not simply saying “Quit what you’re doing.” No, instead take on and develop the online ministry to people who have been spiritually abused by someone in their faith community, walking with them while they (and I) discover our path to healing. The Lord has been talking to me about this for more than a decade. And now the time has come. The decision has been made.

The month of June this year will be my last month of serving churches on Sunday, so that I can have the time and energy and focus to truly develop a wonderful, awesome ministry for us all. I envision retreats, workshops, published books and ebooks, and of course, a continuing blog. And I’m very excited. I’ve wanted to do this for so long.

That door is finally opening. Training events and more are being placed in front of my eyes for me to take advantage of, so that I can know more adequately how to do all these things. I’m already planning to publish a book and ebook this year and to host a retreat next year. (Did I mention that I’m excited about these possibilities?)

Transitions require change, don’t they. Otherwise there would be no transition. Obvious reasoning, right? Transitions can be stressful. They can take quite some time to be truly “seasoned” in the after effects. Some transitions bring difficulties and the kinds of stress that is entirely unwanted. Others can bring a time of joy, hope, and expectation. (That kind of stress is called “eustress.”) That’s what my current transition brings me: joy, hope, and expectation. Even while I’m spending hours at the computer learning how to do the nitty gritties of how to get there. I love it!

As I move along deeper into this transition, I will keep you posted. In the meantime, leave me a comment below. For example, when I’m ready to offer a retreat, would you consider attending?

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The Parable of the Gift

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 29 Apr 2026 11:03:09 GMT

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We play a game, God and me.  This is how it goes:  

	He gives me a gift (an idea) and says to me, “What would you make of it, my love?”    

	“A gift!  What would I make of it, you say?”  

I take it in my hands,
add a bit of this,
take away some of that,
add a different color there.

When I’m quite sure I’ve thought of everything I can think of, I pac…

Have this Mind Among Yourselves

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 22 Apr 2026 11:01:53 GMT

One of my favorite passages in the New Testament is Phil. 2:5-11, which begins with these words: “Have this mind among yourselves, that you have in Christ Jesus.” Even before I quote the whole passage, I’m led to contemplate how can such a thing be: To actually live my life with Christ’s Mind inside my skull, instead of the way my mind would be without …

Help! What's Happening to My Church?

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 15 Apr 2026 11:03:18 GMT

In retirement as an Episcopal priest, I’ve served quite a few very small churches, one Sunday here, another Sunday there. In all of them that I’ve served, they’ve lost a significant number of members. The remaining members, everywhere I’ve been, worry about their church, and rightly so. Most of these churches are in small towns. In one of those towns, t…

Alleluia!

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 08 Apr 2026 11:01:17 GMT

Alleluia! Christ is Risen! The Lord is Risen Indeed! Alleluia!

Here’s my Easter poem. Enjoy!

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                                             Alleluia!
                  Congregation to read the lines in bolded italics.                                      


Mary Magdalene:	Alleluia!				 
 			Reach out and hold
			The Risen Lord!
			Touch me not yet, say…

The Passion of Christ

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 01 Apr 2026 11:02:34 GMT

Here is part of a sermon I preached a few years ago on Good Friday.

Good Friday is a time when we remember and reflect on the Passion of Jesus – everything that happened during that week in Jerusalem until his death, and the horrors of the crucifixion. In many of our churches, on Good Friday, the church is dressed in its most somber and stripped down au…

Ode to Unknowing

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 25 Mar 2026 11:02:17 GMT

This week I’ve decided to share one of my poems with you. I wrote it almost a year ago. Here is my “Ode to Unknowing.” Enjoy.

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They say that we should know.
Know all manner of things
from sunup to sundown
and throughout the night.

Book learning, life learning
people learning, people doing
the learning that they know

But to what end is all that
learning …

Dark Night of the Soul

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 18 Mar 2026 11:00:59 GMT

Many authors through several centuries have attempted to describe what happens when we have an interior experience that is disorienting, that feels like our spiritual sight/insight has gone dark, and the whole situation is painful. St. John of the Cross¹ named this experience the “Dark Night of the Soul.”

A true Dark Night of the Soul is different from b…

Future-Back Thinking

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 11 Mar 2026 11:00:59 GMT

I’m currently reading books and taking courses on how to be an online entrepreneur. You might ask what does that have to do with spiritual abuse, spiritual growth, wholeness, or personal well-being? You’d be right to ask. Here’s my answer: the more I know what online tools are available for me to use in and beyond “Launch Your Well-Being,” the more peop…

Life Events Render Us into Someone Different

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 04 Mar 2026 12:01:55 GMT

While I was praying a few weeks ago, a phrase came to me:

“Rendered by life events. Transformed by Christ. Empowered by the Holy Spirit.”

I began thinking about that word “render” -- a very particular definition of “render” -- to “render fat”. Do you know how to render fat? I don’t know how. Our forefathers and foremothers had to know, if they wanted fat …

What is the Season of Lent All About?

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 25 Feb 2026 12:01:48 GMT

In a way, Lent is all about Jesus, how he stayed strong in the Lord throughout his lifetime. He rose above the struggles and temptations in the Wilderness to accept the call to be the Messiah. In a way, Lent is all about Jesus, who consistently showed us the depth of God’s love for us. Yes, in a way, Lent is all about Jesus, who walked through the days …

The Profound Simplicity of Peace

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 18 Feb 2026 12:00:22 GMT

This week I listened to and watched the Buddhist monk speak in the National Cathedral in Washington DC. He spoke after he and his fellow monks had walked in peace, radiating peace, spreading peace while walking all the way from Ft. Worth to DC. Here is a man who has let go of whatever it takes in order to have peace in his heart.

He explained how to prac…

Which Would You Rather Have: Hope or Hopelessness?

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 11 Feb 2026 12:03:16 GMT

As I reported in last week’s blog, the definition of spirituality that comes from Dr. Brené Brown’s research is this:

“Spirituality is recognizing and celebrating that we are all inextricably connected to each other by a power greater than all of us and that our connection to that power and to one another is grounded in love and compassion. Practicing s…

A Reflection on Resilience as a Way Through Spiritual Abuse

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 04 Feb 2026 12:01:47 GMT

Spiritual abuse in churches is devastating to individual members or groups of members. It can unhinge the faith we depended on, having believed that our faith would always be there. Spiritual abuse can destroy the trust we had in church leaders, which can spread to mistrust of humanity in general. It can sere a wound all the way into the depth of spirit…

A Journey into Wholeness in Christ

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 28 Jan 2026 12:03:17 GMT

Last week I shared a metaphor of who we are and how we are made. That metaphor, that we are a Temple of the Holy Spirit made up of Spirit, Soul, and Body, has been profound for me. Today I want to write about our entire being, our essence, as though we were one thing – because we are – each of us – one being. Albeit, a complex unity, with all that compr…

Can You Identify In Which Part of You Your Spiritual Wound “Lives?”

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 21 Jan 2026 12:00:28 GMT

Today I write about a thought process that has helped me on more than one occasion when processing trauma of any kind, and especially the wounds that can occur by abuse in a church. So, here’s my thought process:

The Foundation of my Reflections is this: St Paul wrote in one place that we are a temple of the Holy Spirit, and in another place, that our be…

Do You Want to Live Your Life Wholeheartedly?

Dorothy Gremillion — Wed, 07 Jan 2026 12:03:16 GMT

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Hi everyone, I’m back. What a whirlwind it is to serve as Executor of someone’s estate! The time-consuming tasks get performed for one major responsibility, and then a waiting period before the next major responsibility can be tackled, etc... My sister-in-law’s house has sold. Now, I hope to accomplish the last major responsibility of paying her income …

Posts on Hold during October

Dorothy Gremillion — Mon, 29 Sep 2025 14:12:32 GMT

Apologies to all my readers. October holds several times of travel and multiple required activities. I plan to rejuvenate blog writing in November. So hang tight, y’all, I’m coming back.