Through the Knothole of Pain: Finding Hope That God's Love Will Prevail After Trauma
Through experiencing my deepest betrayals, God revealed some incredible perspectives I know I'd never otherwise have understood.
When you've had a healthy, beautiful, respectful upbringing, you naturally want to understand what drives distortion. When a lifelong passion for understanding human development and psychology is perfectly married to deep scriptural study, He reveals possibilities that explain not only what I was experiencing, but also something about Him I had always yearned to understand.
Why do the versions of Him we encounter in Scripture seem so vastly different—a God of war in the Old Testament and perfect love in the New?
The deeper I continue to study Him and His character, the more I believe the understanding He has given me of Himself is closer to the truth than anything else I have known before…
The Old Testament is remarkably honest about humanity. Israel recorded its victories, but even more than that, it faithfully recorded its deep failures.
It preserved raw stories of fear, pride, jealousy, rebellion, idolatry, trauma, oppression, grief, and repeated attempts to solve deep spiritual problems with shallow human solutions. Very few civilizations in history documented themselves with such brutal honesty.
But we have to remember something critical: Every author was writing from within history, not above it.
They understood God only as much as they were mentally and spiritually capable of understanding Him in that specific moment. God was revealing Himself patiently to a people whose entire psychological framework had been shaped by generations of slavery, violence, survival, and brokenness.
The Lens of Trauma: They viewed life entirely through the knothole of their pain, because pain was the only world they knew.
People who only knew violence naturally interpreted God through a lens of violence. The natural aftermath of disobedience was interpreted as an angry punishment rather than simply a natural consequence. (Again, God doesn’t promise us freedom from consequence, but He does offer to walk with us right through our own wreckage.)
The grand story doesn’t change because God changed. It changes because our view and understanding of Who He is changed completely through Jesus.
He did not introduce a brand-new God. He revealed the Father more clearly than humanity had ever seen before.
"The one who has seen me has seen the Father." — John 14:9
Suddenly, what had once been viewed through shadows was standing clear in the light. Jesus didn't simply explain God's character; He completely embodied it. He showed us exactly what humanity looks like when perfectly connected to its Creator.
Horizontal Clinging vs. Vertical Anchoring
Most of us spend our entire lives searching horizontally for what can only exist vertically.
We desperately seek unconditional love from spouses.
We chase validation from parents.
We try to extract identity from careers.
We demand worth from accomplishments.
We seek security from money and peace from circumstances.
Yet absolutely none of those earthly things were designed to carry that immense weight.
The unconditional love our souls long for was never meant to originate from other fragile people or temporary possessions. It flows vertically from God.
When we reconnect vertically to the Source, exactly as Jesus modeled, our horizontal relationships naturally become healthier. We begin loving instead of clinging. Serving instead of controlling. Giving instead of grasping. Forgiving instead of keeping score.
Healthy boundaries become possible because our identity is no longer dependent on another person's volatile approval.
Takers, Breakers, and Builders: Choosing the Source
I've noticed people generally fall into one of two patterns.
Some become takers, or worse, breakers. Life has left devastating holes in their souls—sometimes through terrible suffering, sometimes through choices, and sometimes through deep wounds they never learned to heal. They live spiritually empty, endlessly searching for others to provide what only God can ultimately sustain. Whether intentionally or unconsciously, they consume more than they create because they are always trying to fill what keeps leaking out.
Others become builders. Not because they've suffered any less. In fact, sometimes they've suffered far more.
The difference is that somewhere along the rugged journey, they developed a connection to the true Source. The are poured into by a well that promises they’ll never thirst again. They are able to forgive. To fully release bitterness. To accept responsibility without carrying ownership that never belonged to them. To establish healthy boundaries without becoming hardened. To receive grace instead of endlessly striving for it.
Their circumstances may still be incredibly difficult, but their spirit is no longer operating from a place of desperate lack.
The Salt and the Light: A God Beyond Our Categories
Jesus described His followers as "the salt of the earth" and "the light of the world." Salt preserves; light reveals. Both enhance without being asked to sustain.
You can feel the distinct difference after spending time with people who light up the room or have a way enhancing our spiritual senses. They leave people stronger than they found them.
I suspect many people are responding to Christ long before they even know His name. Jesus spoke of "other sheep" who would hear His voice and be gathered into one flock (John 10:16). However we understand that passage, it reminds us that God is not limited by our human categories, and we can never truly grasp all that He is.
His voice reaches farther than we often imagine, and wherever people genuinely respond to His truth, He continues drawing them toward Himself.
Perhaps that has been a part of God's work all along: Patiently leading humanity toward a greater understanding of Him. Changing our perception.
The Bible is not merely the story of God. It is the breathtaking story of God teaching humanity how to love Him, love themselves, and love each other well. And every single page invites us to make that same journey.
Questions to Consider
Am I currently looking horizontally for an emotional validation that can only be filled vertically by the Source?
Has the "knothole of my pain" caused me to view God as an angry punisher rather than a loving Restorer?
In my trauma recovery journey, am I moving toward the pattern of a breaker, or am I learning to become a builder?
Prayer
Father,
Thank You for Your immense patience in teaching me Your language and Your character. Forgive me for the times I have looked horizontally to fragile human beings for the love, worth, and security that can only flow vertically from You.
Heal the view from the knothole of my pain. I hand You the wreckage of my past, knowing You do not abandon me to the consequences, but walk with me through them. Turn my heart away from the grasping posture of a breaker, and anchor me so deeply in Your love that I can step out as a builder—preserving truth, revealing light, and leaving others stronger.
Amen.