In my work with spiritual abuse survivors over the last two and a half years, I’ve learned a lot.
Much of it comes from time spent with my nose in a book with highlighter in hand. Some comes from the incredible conversations and interviews for our Summit and Podcast. The rest comes from my interactions with the hundreds of individuals in our community I’ve met along the way.
Before any of this, it looked like lots of my own work with my counselor and lots of books. After almost two years, it felt like I had turned a corner in my own healing journey. I felt less like a helpless and lost victim. And according to my counselor, I was a different man than the one who had walked into her office two years earlier.
It felt good. It felt affirming.
It led to a crazy idea (which I discussed with my counselor) to create a resource for others like me, who might be looking for a way to process their own stories and experiences of spiritual abuse, religious trauma, and church harm1. Friends I knew who had their own experience of spiritual abuse, coaching clients I had heard from, and others I knew must surely exist and feel alone in this as I had.
To be honest, I didn’t know if I was fully ready to walk this journey with others, but I wanted to try.
So, I created a 6-week program, recorded and edited over four hours of video lessons, and threw it out to the wild beyond in the fall of 2022. And to my amazement, people showed up. We walked through the process of learning to own, write, and share our stories; gain language and definitions for our experiences; navigate liminal space; gain practices for mindfulness and breathing; learn about our nervous system responses and polyvagal theory; and move to recognize and reclaim our belovedness. I named it the THROUGH Cohort.2
Since that first group, I’ve walked with 100 individuals in 17 different groups across 7 seasons.3 They’ve come from 32 states and 10 different countries. And I feel incredibly indebted to them for what I’ve learned through their honesty and vulnerability with me.
In our slow journey to move from broken to beloved, there are many questions that have surfaced along the way. One of the more poignant ones was asked recently by a cohort member, and I’ve been thinking about it since:
What is felt belovedness?
It’s one thing to think I’m beloved, to know it cognitively. But how do I recognize it in my body? How do I know I am beloved? Can I feel it?
It’s a great question.
To be honest, the answer may be better left to greater minds. And yet, it was something I couldn’t let go of, and wanted to respond to. In the moment, it felt like the cumulative wisdom of lived experience, shared stories, and the books I read came together in an idea I posed to that group:
Could there be a Hierarchy of Belovedness?
Hierarchy of Belovedness
If Maslow’s hierarchy helped us to understand how lower, physiological needs for survival must be met before our higher, psychological needs for creativity and thriving can be met, could this theory be applied to our sense of belovedness?
There is also an idea from child development, brain research, and many other sources around how the different parts of our brains are asking different questions. There are experts who claim:
Humans are always asking two questions: “Am I safe?” and “Am I loved?” And if you can't answer “yes” to the first question, then the second question won't even matter.4
This idea became the springboard for my theory. I posed a question in response to the original question, “What is felt belovedness?”
I proposed that if we must first answer the question, “Am I safe?”, then it stands to reason to place it at the bottom of the hierarchy as a foundation. From there, I processed with them in real time and tried to synthesize what I’ve learned over the last few years, asking a continuing series of questions that build on each other and ultimately arrive at belovedness.
Here’s what I came up with:
Do I feel Safe?
Do I feel Connected to anyone?
Can I Trust someone?
Can I be Vulnerable with them? (here we shift to statements)
vulnerability leads to Intimacy,
which brings me to Belovedness
Where you find yourself in this hierarchy does nothing to change your actual belovedness. You have always been and will always be beloved.
Recognizing where you find yourself may simply be an indication of why you don’t feel beloved.
A note on what this is not meant to be: This is not a ladder to climb or check list to accomplish. It’s not intended to create a hierarchy of “better” or “worse” people who are more or less loved by God. It is not meant to bring you shame or condemnation. It is not meant to delineate clear-cut levels, as if we move up or down by steps. This can be fluid and flexible, and it may be possible to occupy (or lack in) more than one space at a time.
The more I’ve shared this idea with those in the cohort, the more it seems to resonate. It’s what led me to share the idea more publicly with you.
Rather than feeling shame5 for not feeling Beloved, it relieves me of that pressure by understanding it may be due to a lack of felt safety, connectedness, or any other level. Instead of a destination to reach, it’s more like a pin on a map to indicate “you are here.” It’s not about arriving, but about the awareness of where I am. And, my faith may or may not be affected by which level I find myself in.6
There are obvious ties to our autonomic and sympathetic nervous systems7, as well as our vagal responses as we move up and down the polyvagal ladder8. There are ways that attachment theory9 hold significance in the ways we move to feel (or not feel) safe, connected, trust, or vulnerable.
It’s still early in development, and something I’m actively working on. There’s a lot more here, and I hope to share more in the coming weeks and months, including a breakdown of each level or tier.
Until then, does this resonate with you? What questions do you have about this hierarchy? Is there something you’d challenge? I’d love to hear from you.10
I prefer the term “church harm” over the lesser “church hurt”. It centers the abuser and not the survivor, and takes the pressure and shame off of the experience. Church hurt makes it sound like a minor offense or disagreement. In my experience (and the many I’ve heard from others), it is often much more serious.
The name was inspired by the children’s book, Going on a Bear Hunt, when I was reminded by a friend about it. The idea is that any obstacle faced by the family can’t be navigated by going around, under, or over it. They have to go through it. Since then, I’ve come across many similar stories, metaphors, and illustrations that also resonate deeply with this idea. The latest is The Critical Journey by Janet Hagberg and Robert Guelich, who write about the stages of faith. The idea of going through is especially relevant at what they call The Wall.
If you’d like to support our work, you can donate here. Thanks to our donors, we’ve been able to award over $14,000 in cohort scholarships over the years. We awarded $4,553 just this season to 16 cohort members.
Forgive me, but I can’t seem to confirm an original source for this. It was attributed to Dr. Karen Purvis by a cohort member, but I can’t find a direct quote online. A quick search shows that this idea is also echoed by the Brain State Model from Conscious Discipline, asked in The Seven Primal Questions by Mike Foster, and many other places.
Here I owe a great debt of gratitude to Dr. Alison Cook and her work, especially her latest book, I Shouldn’t Feel This Way.
I refer you again to The Critical Journey by Janet Hagberg and Robert Guelich on their stages of faith.
I love the way
describes Home (found within our Window of Tolerance), Sympathetic Storm (hyperarousal), and Dorsal Fog (hypoarousal) in his book, Healing What’s Within.There is much work on this by many authors in both the therapeutic and Christian/faith spaces. Developed by Stephen Porges and expanded by Deb Dana, an understanding of Polyvagal Theory has helped me immensely.
Here I have also learned from many sources, including Attached to God by
, in my conversations with by and Cyd Holsclaw and in their upcoming book Landscapes of the Soul, again from Chuck in Healing What’s Within, and many others.Thanks so much for reading this far. To protect my capacity, honor my boundaries, and engage thoughtfully with readers, my comments are open only to paid subscribers. If you’d like to comment or read more posts and can’t afford a subscription, scholarships are available for those who ask. Just send an email to info@brokentobeloved.org and I’d be happy to grant you access.
I really like this framework. It made me think of the Beloved Disciple in John’s Gospel. Might not be able to map all 6 of those elements in order, but they all fit really well. He was safe, connected, and intimate: “One of his disciples, the one Jesus loved, was reclining close beside Jesus” (13:23). There was trust and vulnerability: “Simon Peter motioned to him to find out who it was he was talking about. So he leaned back against Jesus and asked him, ‘Lord, who is it?’ Jesus replied, ‘He's the one I give the piece of bread to after I have dipped it’” (13:24-26). And, of course, he was beloved: “the one Jesus loved” (13:23); “the disciple [Jesus] loved” (19:26); “the other disciple, the one Jesus loved” (20:2); “The disciple, the one Jesus loved” (21:7); “the disciple Jesus loved” (21:20). The BD is first mentioned in John in such a way that highlights safety and connectedness. That’s a pretty cool way to think about his—and our—experience of being loved by Jesus.