Phasing Out of Trauma - Blog , Phase Study Fellowships

Making This Your Time

Fri, 02 Oct 2026 21:31:05 +0000

A Foundational Phase 1 Healing Activity

At the beginning of Phase 1 we help our members understand that they do not need to extend themselves beyond what they are capable of, and that they have permission to listen to their bodies, their thoughts, and their behaviors to know when “enough is enough” both within their healing work, and within day-to-day activities, and we give them permission to reclaim empowerment over their time.

As you continue on this journey, remember, this is your journey, and you cannot do it wrong. It is natural to want to “do it right,” especially when you have spent years watching other people’s reactions, managing expectations, or trying to stay safe. One of the first things we want you to practice is recognizing that this time belongs to you.

Trauma can pull attention away from the present and back toward what happened, what might happen, or what should have happened. It can also leave energy in the body that needs somewhere safe to go. The practices on the next pages are not meant to be performed in order or used all at once; they are options for different moments, so that you can begin learning what helps you return to yourself, to the present, and to God.

CARRY THIS FORWARD

This Is a Practice You Will Return To

Tag these pages. Making This Your Time is not only for Week 1. You will return to different parts of this practice throughout Phase 1 whenever reading, prayer, reflection, or Fellowship stirs more than you want to carry alone.

First: Take a Mental Break

Use this first whenever you notice that the material is becoming too much, too fast, or simply not right for this moment. Close the book. Put down the pen. Step into another room, get a drink of water, look around, or give yourself several minutes before deciding whether you want to return.

Pausing is not quitting. It is how you practice staying in relationship with yourself while you heal. You may say quietly: “This moment is mine. God is here with me.”

When You Feel Pulled Back Into the Past: Clap Your Hands

A sharp clap can become a present-time interruption when a memory, image, thought, or body sensation begins pulling you back into the trauma. The purpose is not to erase the memory; it is to help your body recognize that the memory is not happening right now. Clap once firmly, or several times if you need the repeated sound and movement. As you clap, orient yourself with present-time truths: “I am here.” “This is now, not then.” “I am in this room.” “That happened; it is not happening right now.” If saying “I am safe” does not feel true in the moment, do not force it. Use the truest present-tense statement available to you.

When You Feel Mad, Angry, Irritated, or Full of Energy: Stomp or Press

Anger and irritation often bring physical energy with them. When that energy needs somewhere to go, stomp your feet firmly into the floor. If stomping is not appropriate where you are, make a fist with one hand and press or pound it into the open palm of the other hand with a level of force that feels safe for your body. Let the movement carry the energy without directing it at another person or at yourself. With each movement you might say: “This is my time.” “God sees me.” “I survived.” “My anger is allowed to tell me something matters.”

When Closing the Book Is Not Enough: Take a Short Walk

Use the walk when you feel overwhelmed, hopeless, doubtful, or unable to settle simply by stepping away from the material. If possible, move somewhere you can see the sky, plants, trees, water, sunlight, clouds, or another part of creation. Let your eyes move outward instead of staying fixed on the difficult material. As you walk, notice what is still alive and being sustained around you. You are not trying to convince yourself that everything is beautiful or that what happened to you was good. You are reminding yourself that trauma is not the whole created world, and it is not the whole of your future.

Remember the Threefold God

As you walk, remember that you do not have only one distant idea of God on your side. The Father created you and continues to hold your life. Jesus knows suffering from within human life and remains with you in what hurts. The Holy Spirit is present within and around you as comforter, advocate, guide, and giver of life. Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are not working against one another; God is for your dignity, your healing, your good, and your restoration even though God did not desire the trauma you endured. You may name what you see as you walk: “I see the sky.” “I see something growing.” “I see light.” “I see movement.” Then remind yourself: “The God who made this creation has not stopped creating possibilities for my life.”

Walk the Scripture Path

These passages are arranged as a path. Read them slowly in order when hopelessness, doubt, or old spiritual messages tell you that you must climb out of your suffering alone. The movement is intentional: God lifts me. God sees me. God proclaims restoration and favor over lives that have known devastation.

Psalm 40:2

God lifts me out of the pit and establishes my footing. — KJV

He brought me up also out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay,
and set my feet upon a rock, and established my goings.

Genesis 16:13

God sees me in the wilderness. — KJV

And she called the name of the LORD that spake unto her,
Thou God seest me: for she said, Have I also here looked after him that seeth me?

Isaiah 61:1–3

God binds what is broken, proclaims favor and liberty, and promises beauty where there have been ashes. — KJV

“The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me;
because the LORD hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek;
he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
and the opening of the prison to them that are bound;
To proclaim the acceptable year of the LORD,
and the day of vengeance of our God;
to comfort all that mourn;
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion,
to give unto them beauty for ashes,
the oil of joy for mourning,
the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;
that they might be called trees of righteousness,
the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.”

A Hymn to Hold Onto

When you need language for the unfinished place—when healing has not happened yet and you simply need God to remain—carry this first verse of the hymn Abide with Me with you. You can speak it slowly, sing it quietly, or write it on a card and keep it with your workbook.

Abide with me: fast falls the eventide;
the darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Henry Francis Lyte, “Abide with Me”

Listen to the Hymn Here

When You Feel Like You Do Not Matter: Feel Your Heartbeat

Place your hand over your heart, or find your pulse at your wrist or neck. Stay long enough to notice that your body is carrying out thousands of coordinated tasks without your having to command each one. Your heart is beating; your lungs are exchanging air; your brain and nervous system are receiving information; your body is continually working to sustain the life God gave you. You are not a copy God accidentally repeated. God created you with intellect, emotions, spirituality, physicality, memory, personality, gifts, preferences, and a way of being that belongs specifically to you. God does not need another clone of Jesus or of someone you admire; He desired you to exist, or you would not be here as this particular person. As you feel your heartbeat, say slowly: “This heart still beats.” “God made this heart.” “God sees this heart.” “My life matters to God.” “I am allowed to take up the space of the person God created.”

When Worry, Anxiety, or Impatience Takes Over: Give Your Hands Something to Do

Use this when your mind begins racing, when worry loops keep repeating, or when you become discouraged that healing is not moving quickly enough. Giving your hands a simple, repetitive task can help communicate to the nervous system that it does not have to solve the entire problem right now. Rub your hands together slowly. Hold a smooth stone and trace its edges. Knit, crochet, fold laundry, doodle, color, knead dough, garden, work a simple puzzle, or squeeze a stress ball. Choose something that does not require you to perform well; the purpose is rhythm, contact, and enough structure to let the mind quiet. If you use a stone, you might whisper: “God is my Rock.” If you trace your hand on paper, label the fingers with words you need to remember: Loved. Seen. Safe enough for this moment. Strong. Growing. Let your hands do something small while God holds what is larger than you can solve today.

When You Need a Moment of Peace: Smell Something Soothing

Scent reaches memory and emotion quickly, which is why a familiar, gentle aroma can become a cue for rest. Use this when you are not necessarily flooded or angry, but you need a few minutes of comfort, quiet, or peace before deciding what comes next. Choose only scents that feel pleasant and safe to you; if a scent carries an unwanted memory, choose another.

Lavender: Use for calm; pair it with “He restores my soul.”
Vanilla or cinnamon: Use for warmth and comfort; recall a genuinely safe or nourishing memory if one is available.
Cedar or frankincense: Use for grounding; imagine yourself held in God’s steady presence.
Citrus or mint: Use when you want clarity or gentle awakening.
Coffee, tea, bread, or another familiar food aroma: Use when the scent evokes belonging, ordinary life, or home in a way that is comforting to you.

Afterward, notice whether anything shifted in your breathing, muscles, thoughts, or sense of time. You are not measuring whether the practice “worked.” You are learning your own nervous system and building a collection of ways to return to the present.

CARRY THIS FORWARD

Until next time...
May God give you the courage to face today,
the wisdom to recognize what you’re feeling,
the strength to take your next step,
and the grace to live each day with intention.

Because you matter.

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Weaving Grace's 1 Phase Closer to Full Healing

Mon, 30 Mar 2026 20:41:05 +0000

Holding Space for Their Amazing Gains!

There is a sacred moment that happens at the end of Phase 1—one that cannot be rushed, forced, or manufactured. It is the moment when a woman begins to tell the truth of her story out loud. Here at Phasing Out of Trauma, we never expect to hear the polished version. We always encourage woman to go beyond the minimized version. And because we've all held our own experiences, it's always safe to move past version shaped by what others could handle, and into what really happened.

At the end of our Phase 1 Study journey, we hold space for each other to hear their stories. And when it happens, we enter the sacred space of empowerment. Because the trauma these women have held silenced their voices. It fragmented their experiences. It convinced them that what happened to them either too much to hold or not enough to matter. Because trauma tangles our memories, buries our voice, and teaches us to survive by staying quiet. But healing begins here in Phase 1 when God enters the story intentionally, and together with Him the pieces of our whole start to come back together—when what was once hidden is gently, courageously brought into the light.

At the end of Phase 1 in Phasing Out of Trauma, we invite women to begin telling their story in a way that feels safe, honoring, and paced. Not everything. Not all at once. Just what is ready. And what I have witnessed in these moments just last week was been nothing short of holy.

One incredible woman stood before us and shared her story with a clarity, structure, and depth that felt like listening to a TED Talk. There was power in her voice—not because her story was easy to hear, but because she had begun to see it differently. She made connections between moments in her life that once felt isolated and confusing. She could trace the thread—how early wounds had woven themselves through later experiences—and for the first time, she wasn’t just reliving it… she was understanding it. And in that understanding, there was empowerment. You could feel it.

Another woman showed us a different kind of courage.

She named, in real time, how hard it was to even be there. How difficult it felt to admit where she was. How even in a room filled with safety, compassion, and vulnerability, there was still a voice inside her that feared judgment. That wanted to stay hidden. And yet—by saying that out loud—she broke through it.

Her honesty became the doorway.

What followed was raw. Sacred. Unfiltered. She shared parts of her story that had been held tightly for so long, and as she offered these pieces of her story to her fellowship group, I could feel the room hold her—not with shock, not with pity, but with understanding. With reverence. That is what happens when a story is received with care. It transforms not only the one who tells it, but the space around her.

And then there was another woman, who spoke with a coherence we had never heard from her before. Not because her story had suddenly become simple, but because something within her had softened. She gave herself space. She gave herself grace. She extended mercy inward in a way she hadn’t been able to before. And as she spoke, you could hear it—the difference. The gentleness. The ownership. The beginning of integration.

These are the moments that remind me: healing is not about fixing a person.

Healing is about restoring our voice.

Because when a woman tells her story in a safe, compassionate environment, something profound happens in her brain and body. What was once fragmented begins to organize. What was once overwhelming becomes nameable. What was once carried alone is now witnessed. And in that witnessing, the story begins to lose its power to isolate—and instead becomes a pathway to connection, meaning, and healing.

We are not meant to carry our stories in silence.

We are meant to tell them. Not with an intention to relive the pain—but to reclaim the narrative stolen by others who abused power and authority in our lives. Before we closed our time together, I offered the women a small glimpse of what comes next. A preview of how their stories might begin to read at the end of Phase 2—after they’ve had time to heal their impressions of God, to come to know Him for who He truly is, and to begin seeing their lives through a different lens. A lens not shaped by trauma alone, but by truth. By presence. By a God who sees.

Because the story does not end in Phase 1. It begins there. And as it unfolds, what was once a story of survival slowly becomes a story of redemption.

I am deeply overwhelmed—in the best way—to be invited into these spaces. To sit in the presence of women who are choosing, day by day, to face what they’ve carried and to begin again. It is an honor I don’t take lightly.

And if you are reading this while holding your own story—still untold, still heavy, still uncertain—I want you to know this:

You do not have to carry it alone.

When you are ready, there is a place for your story too. And it would be an honor to walk with you.

Join our Fellowship Wait List Here!

Launching Our Phase Study Fellowship

Mon, 26 Jan 2026 23:32:06 +0000

Phase 1: I Experienced Trauma. I Desire God to Be Part of My Healing.

We are deeply grateful—and truly humbled—to share that our Phase Study Fellowship has officially begun.

This week, a courageous group of women stepped into Phase 1 of the Phasing Out of Trauma journey. This phase marks a sacred beginning: not the start of answers, but the start of honest presence. It is the moment when a woman is allowed to say, often quietly and tenderly:

“I experienced trauma. I desire God to be part of my healing.”

For many, this is the first time those two truths have been held together.

What Phase 1 Is (and What It Is Not)

Phase 1 is not about fixing, rushing, or proving spiritual strength.
It is not about having the right words, the right theology, or a polished testimony.

Phase 1 is about acknowledging reality—that something painful happened—and opening the door for God to be present in the aftermath. It is a phase of slowing down, listening to the body and the soul, and allowing truth to surface at a pace that feels safe and supported.

Here, healing begins not with answers, but with permission:

Permission to name trauma without minimizing it
Permission to admit confusion, anger, grief, or doubt
Permission to approach God honestly—even if trust feels fragile

Walking Together With Does God See Me?

Throughout Phase 1, the women are reading and reflecting on Does God See Me? by Dieula M. Previlon—a powerful, compassionate work that explores trauma, silence, faith, and the deep human longing to be seen by God.

As they move through the book together, they will be invited to:

Reflect on their lived experiences in a trauma-informed way
Notice how trauma has shaped their image of God and themselves
Gently challenge beliefs formed in pain or isolation
Practice grounding, prayer, and reflection that honor both faith and nervous system care

This fellowship is peer-led, Christ-centered, and grace-guided. Sharing is always invitational, never forced. Silence is respected. Each woman is encouraged to listen to her own limits and needs, trusting that God does not rush what He intends to heal.

The Sacred Work of Community

There is something profoundly healing about not being alone with your story anymore. In this fellowship, women are not asked to carry one another’s pain—but to bear witness to it with compassion, reverence, and humility.

Healing unfolds not through comparison, but through connection.
Not through pressure, but through presence.

This is sacred ground.

A Gentle Ask: Please Pray With Us

As we launch this Phase Study Fellowship, we invite our wider community to cover these women in prayer.

Please pray:

That each woman would feel safe, seen, and deeply held
That God would meet them with tenderness rather than urgency
That shame would loosen its grip and truth would take root
That courage would grow slowly and steadily, one step at a time
That the Holy Spirit would guide every conversation, silence, and prayer

We also ask prayers for the leaders holding space—that they would be grounded, discerning, and attentive to God’s movement among the group.

With Gratitude and Hope

We are honored by the trust it takes to begin this journey. Phase 1 is holy ground—the place where many women first whisper, “Something happened to me… and I want God here with me now.”

Thank you for standing with us in prayer as this fellowship unfolds.
Healing does not happen alone.
And it does not happen unseen.

God sees. God is near. And this is only the beginning.

Learn More About Our Phase Study Fellowships