I think I killed my twin
I often think about this young boy who was 6 years old when he came to see me at my office. He was 6 years old but was wearing like a size 12 pants and not because he was tall but because of his weight. His mother told me that no matter how much food he ate, he was never satisfied.
I asked the mother to remain quiet while I asked her son a few questions. The first question I asked him was, “What is bothering you?” The mother, who was supposed to be letting the son answer, said “You cannot ask a 6-year-old what is bothering him. He doesn’t even know what that means.” I asked the boy another question, “Is there something that makes you feel upset, or you don’t like?” The boy responded, “I hate piano lessons.” And the mother who was supposed to be quiet answered, “Do you don’t.” I tried a third time and asked the boy, “Is there something deep on the inside of you that makes you feel upset?” The boy got down on the floor and curled up in ball and was quiet for a few seconds. He then said, “I think I killed my twin.” At which point, his mother, who wouldn’t stop answering before waves desperately at me to get my attention and whispers, “I never told him that he was a twin.”
It’s not my fault
Since they were a Christian family, I asked the little boy if he had a picture of him and his twin inside of his mother. I asked him if he could invite Jesus in there with them and let me know when he saw Jesus there. He was quiet for a few moments and then said, “Jesus is here now.” I asked him to ask Jesus the truth about his twin, did he really have anything to do with his passing? He was quiet again and then replied, “Jesus said, my twin was very sick and if they had been born they would have had a life full of trouble, that is why they were not born with me. I didn’t kill my twin and it was not my fault.” The boy stood up off the ground and looked at his mom and said, “Ok I am good, can we go home now.”
They left my office, and that boy was satisfied from the food he ate from that day forward. Can you imagine? A little 6-year-old boy, eating his emotions because he thought he killed his twin. He never told anyone and may not have even known what was really bothering him until someone asked the question and gave him a chance to think about the trouble in the depth of his soul.
Bring ‘em up, bring ‘em out
If his mother had not brought him to the office that day, he could have been 55 years old and still eating without ever being satisfied and never knowing or understanding why.
Feelings are very real. Feelings buried alive never die, they produce behaviors in us until we deal with them and face the truth about the situation. Don’t let your past define you. Don’t keep your feelings buried alive, face them head on so you can live the free and victorious life you were meant to live.