I've been sitting here for the past few minutes writing. Then I deleted it all. Realizing that I don't want to complain but I want to spread hope with my words. The past 10 days have been a whirlwind. I've realized some things about myself and things are changing. 10 days ago I lost my job. And the fear is that I don't know what is going to happen. Yet I have this peace about me that keeps me from stressing too much right now.
I've been searching for a new job for a long time. I've submitted resumes and I've gone on interviews but I just haven't found the right thing for me next. I need something that will allow me to pay my bills and yet allow me to go to school too. I'm signed up for 17 credits next semester (3 science classes and Calc 2). However will I make it through? Sure unemployment benefits is an option, but for how long and will it allow me to pay rent.
A few months ago I interviewed for a position as a Pre- School teacher at a Christian school. I knew when I submitted my resume that I probably wouldn't meet the state requirements but I went ahead an applied at the urging of a friend. I went through the whole shebang and the director wanted to hire me - like really bad. She worked hard trying to make my experience and little bit of early childhood education credits work but in the end she was unable to hire me because I didn't meet state requirements. Two nights ago, I met a woman who works at the school (we have mutual friends) and just a few moments of spending time with me she said "I know I just met you but I already like you better than the girl we hired. You'd be so much better in the position because she's so reserved and you're not."
"Don't you get it, Tamara. You're not meant to behind a desk all day - stuffed away doing odds and ends and never really interacting with anyone. No. You're meant to be with the children. To be in the schools. To be a light to children who may only live in darkness. You are meant to shine and shine bright. No one should be trying to hide you under a stone and keep you behind a desk, on the other side of the phone line. No, Beloved, You were meant to make a difference in the lives of children and their families. You are the hand they need to hold. You can't get there without working hard and staying behind a desk is not going to get you there. Let Me show you the way."
There is so much confirmation in my life about where I should be headed. You see, Satan already tried to derail my path - several times. And sometimes he reminds me of how he succeeded in keeping me from where I would be if he hadn't intervened. But he never wins. He doesn't get to keep me hidden, afraid to step out and work towards a goal. He no longer gets to keep me stagnate at a comfortable job where my heart said leave but my heart said bills.
I may not know what my entire future holds for me but I do know that I will be a teacher and my life will matter and I will make a difference. I also know that God is with me every step of the way. When I'm on the right path I know it and I was off the path for quite a while as I stayed at the job, unhappy and unfulfilled. This path may be unsteady but my foundation is firm and I follow Him anywhere.
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Response to Sandusky
http://sports.yahoo.com/news/ncaaf--jerry-sandusky-delivers-one-final-hateful--haunting-response-to-his-victims.html
After reading this article about Jerry Sandusky's last days before being sentenced to spend the rest of his life in prison, I can't help but fear this is how my abuse thinks.
The author of the article makes this comment regarding the "speech" Sandusky gave before the court at his sentencing: "He wanted them to know: They'll remain his. Forever. That part of Touchdown Jerry, clad in red, remains safe and secure"
I wanted to scream because I felt it to be all too true. Even though he is behind bars and cannot physically hurt these men again, he will go with them into every day of their lives. The evil in this man doesn't allow him to see his actions for what they truly were. And he taunts his victims by telling the court how he will treasure the memories he has.
Unfortunately, the men he hurt will face their own memories and they will not be filled with happy feelings of those days by the pool and the nights away at camp. Instead they will be haunted by the images of him touching them in places they should never have been touched and the extremely mixed feelings of fear and happiness when taking part in those summer camp activities. I imagine that not every memory for the men about Sandusky are sexual which only makes the whole situation even more confusing for the young boys inside each of the survivors.
For some unknown reason to myself I compare the evil in Sandusky to the evil in my own abuser. The person who hurt me is not facing punishment for what he did and instead lives a wonderful life with my mother by his side. Yet the monster in each of them is the same: blind, evil desires to pleasure the flesh without regard to the harm they inflict upon others. They liked what they did. They enjoyed the moments they spent with young people in their beds. Whatever concern they had for the law and right vs wrong was not enough to keep them from giving into their desires and enjoying every single touch, every hug, every time they were around this young souls. The evilness inside of these men controlled their every move and every word.
My heart breaks for the Overcomers of Sandusky's actions. The court uses the word victim, counselors use the word survivor, I use the word Overcomer because there is so much more to breaking free from the horribleness of this type of abuse than just surviving. Many people stay locked up in the silent suffering but the few brave souls who testified against the evil done to them are on their way to overcoming the overwhelming darkness that haunts them and breaking free from the chains Sandusky has attempted to keep them locked into.
I wonder about all the other survivors of this man's actions and how they are doing with everything. They may not have had the strength to speak the words but the memories will continue to haunt them and Sandusky's words were meant for them as well. It was his last attempt to keep them quiet and to keep his control over them. I pray that these men are able to tell someone they trust and begin to move into Overcomer status.
The evilness in this world is beyond my understanding. I'll never understand why the families of men who do such horrible acts can stand by them and support them in their lies and deception. I'll never understand how you can give in to the evil inside yourself to commit such disgusting acts upon an innocent child. And I'll never comprehend the emotions, thoughts and actions of those who abuse children. My own experience has made me unable to believe anyone who would call the victim of their actions a liar or place blame on their victims all to avoid feeling the guilt of what they have done.
As I keep seeing more and more articles come out about the Sandusky trial and his words to the court, I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want him and my abuser to truly see the damage they have caused and to repent for what they have done, to ask forgiveness, to own up to their actions and stop behaving like little boys who got caught sneaking candy they shouldn't have. But that will never happen because of the evilness that resides in their souls keeping them trapped in their darkness of lies and deception that all is good in their world and that they are innocent in all that has been said against them.
After reading this article about Jerry Sandusky's last days before being sentenced to spend the rest of his life in prison, I can't help but fear this is how my abuse thinks.
The author of the article makes this comment regarding the "speech" Sandusky gave before the court at his sentencing: "He wanted them to know: They'll remain his. Forever. That part of Touchdown Jerry, clad in red, remains safe and secure"
I wanted to scream because I felt it to be all too true. Even though he is behind bars and cannot physically hurt these men again, he will go with them into every day of their lives. The evil in this man doesn't allow him to see his actions for what they truly were. And he taunts his victims by telling the court how he will treasure the memories he has.
Unfortunately, the men he hurt will face their own memories and they will not be filled with happy feelings of those days by the pool and the nights away at camp. Instead they will be haunted by the images of him touching them in places they should never have been touched and the extremely mixed feelings of fear and happiness when taking part in those summer camp activities. I imagine that not every memory for the men about Sandusky are sexual which only makes the whole situation even more confusing for the young boys inside each of the survivors.
For some unknown reason to myself I compare the evil in Sandusky to the evil in my own abuser. The person who hurt me is not facing punishment for what he did and instead lives a wonderful life with my mother by his side. Yet the monster in each of them is the same: blind, evil desires to pleasure the flesh without regard to the harm they inflict upon others. They liked what they did. They enjoyed the moments they spent with young people in their beds. Whatever concern they had for the law and right vs wrong was not enough to keep them from giving into their desires and enjoying every single touch, every hug, every time they were around this young souls. The evilness inside of these men controlled their every move and every word.
My heart breaks for the Overcomers of Sandusky's actions. The court uses the word victim, counselors use the word survivor, I use the word Overcomer because there is so much more to breaking free from the horribleness of this type of abuse than just surviving. Many people stay locked up in the silent suffering but the few brave souls who testified against the evil done to them are on their way to overcoming the overwhelming darkness that haunts them and breaking free from the chains Sandusky has attempted to keep them locked into.
I wonder about all the other survivors of this man's actions and how they are doing with everything. They may not have had the strength to speak the words but the memories will continue to haunt them and Sandusky's words were meant for them as well. It was his last attempt to keep them quiet and to keep his control over them. I pray that these men are able to tell someone they trust and begin to move into Overcomer status.
The evilness in this world is beyond my understanding. I'll never understand why the families of men who do such horrible acts can stand by them and support them in their lies and deception. I'll never understand how you can give in to the evil inside yourself to commit such disgusting acts upon an innocent child. And I'll never comprehend the emotions, thoughts and actions of those who abuse children. My own experience has made me unable to believe anyone who would call the victim of their actions a liar or place blame on their victims all to avoid feeling the guilt of what they have done.
As I keep seeing more and more articles come out about the Sandusky trial and his words to the court, I want to scream at the top of my lungs. I want him and my abuser to truly see the damage they have caused and to repent for what they have done, to ask forgiveness, to own up to their actions and stop behaving like little boys who got caught sneaking candy they shouldn't have. But that will never happen because of the evilness that resides in their souls keeping them trapped in their darkness of lies and deception that all is good in their world and that they are innocent in all that has been said against them.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Movies on Constant Replay
I can't sleep. My mind has been reeling with memories and images all day long. I tried to get them out and yet I just can't shake them. I can't seem to stop thinking about what has gotten me to this point in my life and where exactly I'm going with it. I can't help but feel like my life has been rerouted from its original plan because of something evil that happened to me when my journey was just beginning. My mind is filled with the possibilities of "what if" and I'm overwhelmed with the fact that is "was not."
All the movies that are on constant replay in my mind drive me insane sometimes. Often times I find myself free to be happy for split instances and then all the sudden images comes flooding back and I'm challenged with the thought that true happiness and fulfillment may never be possible. And that ache from the center of my soul rears its ugly little head and I find myself trying to escape it's death grip on my life.
The pain I feel is so intense and so real that I'll never fully understand its depths. I don't think my human brain is capable of understanding the immense aftermath of the "traumatic event" I survived during those years I lived at home. My therapist switched positions and I haven't been seeing her very often. We tried figuring out if my insurance would cover her and then I got this denial letter stating that even though my diagnosis of "PTSD" is a factor they would not approve continued care. I've tried these last few sessions to just stop seeing her but she won't let me. She doesn't think it would be a good idea. Interesting because I feel like we barely talk about anything important in my healing process anymore just because of the span of time between sessions.
With the realization that I am clinically diagnosed with PTSD is overwhelming to that ache in my center. It's like I'm learning for the first time that maybe this really will never go away. I spend pretty much every waking hour trying to escape and yet the reality is that I never will. And now here I sit unable to escape the reality of my current situation. I know my life isn't bad when I compare it do other lives but this is so not the way I imaged my life going when I was a little girl.
I talked with my dad and grandpa today because I'm going to visit them in a few weeks. I asked about getting together with some of the other family members. He told me all about how they don't talk to him since my grandma died and that it most likely stems from him owing them a few hundred dollars. I wanted to scream and send them the money so that they would talk to him again. I hate that they don't talk to him. I hate that I can't talk to my own family. I hate that my niece's birthday is next week and I can't see her. I hate that I'm stuck on the outside. I hate that it seems lives are moving on all around me and yet I'm stuck, just living my life, unable to really do anything worth anything. Again, my darkness grows a big larger in the pit of my center and I'm challenged with the thought that I could ever do anything worth anything after all I'm just damaged goods.
All these thoughts that stem from these images in my mind are so overwhelming. I try to fight them and I try to escape them. Somehow they always find their way back and when they find me they keep me up causing much anxiety and many tears. My reality is confusing for me. I know I have people who love me deeply and yet I'm not really sure I know what that means. Loving someone was once described to me as meaning that you would cry at their funeral. I'm pretty sure there are many people in my life I would cry for if they died but for some reason I'm unable to believe that anyone would cry for mine. Of course these thoughts just stem from this whole PTSD thing and the pain that rises from within my dark center.
Now that I've written and gotten some of it, I suppose I should try to close my eyes but the fear of knowing what lies in my mind will probably continue to keep me awake (which stinks because I have an early morning and a long day ahead). Oh well. I guess it'll always be this way at least that's what my "diagnosis" tells me...
All the movies that are on constant replay in my mind drive me insane sometimes. Often times I find myself free to be happy for split instances and then all the sudden images comes flooding back and I'm challenged with the thought that true happiness and fulfillment may never be possible. And that ache from the center of my soul rears its ugly little head and I find myself trying to escape it's death grip on my life.
The pain I feel is so intense and so real that I'll never fully understand its depths. I don't think my human brain is capable of understanding the immense aftermath of the "traumatic event" I survived during those years I lived at home. My therapist switched positions and I haven't been seeing her very often. We tried figuring out if my insurance would cover her and then I got this denial letter stating that even though my diagnosis of "PTSD" is a factor they would not approve continued care. I've tried these last few sessions to just stop seeing her but she won't let me. She doesn't think it would be a good idea. Interesting because I feel like we barely talk about anything important in my healing process anymore just because of the span of time between sessions.
With the realization that I am clinically diagnosed with PTSD is overwhelming to that ache in my center. It's like I'm learning for the first time that maybe this really will never go away. I spend pretty much every waking hour trying to escape and yet the reality is that I never will. And now here I sit unable to escape the reality of my current situation. I know my life isn't bad when I compare it do other lives but this is so not the way I imaged my life going when I was a little girl.
I talked with my dad and grandpa today because I'm going to visit them in a few weeks. I asked about getting together with some of the other family members. He told me all about how they don't talk to him since my grandma died and that it most likely stems from him owing them a few hundred dollars. I wanted to scream and send them the money so that they would talk to him again. I hate that they don't talk to him. I hate that I can't talk to my own family. I hate that my niece's birthday is next week and I can't see her. I hate that I'm stuck on the outside. I hate that it seems lives are moving on all around me and yet I'm stuck, just living my life, unable to really do anything worth anything. Again, my darkness grows a big larger in the pit of my center and I'm challenged with the thought that I could ever do anything worth anything after all I'm just damaged goods.
All these thoughts that stem from these images in my mind are so overwhelming. I try to fight them and I try to escape them. Somehow they always find their way back and when they find me they keep me up causing much anxiety and many tears. My reality is confusing for me. I know I have people who love me deeply and yet I'm not really sure I know what that means. Loving someone was once described to me as meaning that you would cry at their funeral. I'm pretty sure there are many people in my life I would cry for if they died but for some reason I'm unable to believe that anyone would cry for mine. Of course these thoughts just stem from this whole PTSD thing and the pain that rises from within my dark center.
Now that I've written and gotten some of it, I suppose I should try to close my eyes but the fear of knowing what lies in my mind will probably continue to keep me awake (which stinks because I have an early morning and a long day ahead). Oh well. I guess it'll always be this way at least that's what my "diagnosis" tells me...
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
I Will Not Be Silenced
Last night after having a fairly nice day I was shocked by something that happened. As my friend and I walked from the library back to the car after our classes were over we were talking about nothing real important. Just having friendly conversation and talking about how we wish there was a coffee place open on that side of town. Then a voice comes from behind us (apparently a class had gotten out and they were all headed back to their cars in silence) and asks in a rather rude and sarcastic tone, "Can you talk any louder?"
I replied with "why yes I can. thank you....at least we're outside."
She got all huffy puffy and walked past us as the rest of her class followed behind in silence most looking at their phones. And I spent the next 10 minute drive back to my friend's house complaining, rather loudly, about how rude this girl was and wondering why she felt my conversation with my friend had any impact on her whatsoever. She was also following incredibly close to us.
10 minutes of my life was way too much time worrying about this girl. Why she felt the need to silence me when I was having a light hearted conversation with my friend is beyond me. And it got me thinking and then this girl became a teaching from my awesome God.
You see, I spent a lot of my years growing up silent. I was under the impression that what I had to say was stupid and not important. And when I finally spoke the truth about my life the people who should have believed did not thus nailing home the fact that my voice was unimportant and my life didn't matter. The enemy of my soul whispered this fact into my ear for many, many years and I began to believe it at a very young age. But through the hard work of learning to take my thoughts captive and replace them with God's truth I have learned that my voice is just as important as anyone else's voice.
It was as if the devil used this girl to try and get to me again, to silence me, to make me feel bad about speaking. The devil doesn't want me speaking, he doesn't want me typing and he definitely doesn't me thinking I have something to say or type. You see, I have a testimony of how God's heart broke for me as a child being forgotten, unloved and abused. My testimony includes the love God had for me when I was stuck in depression and incredibly suicidal. And I have a story that tells of how God reached into my depths and taught me how to live close to His heart and in His truth! The enemy of my soul doesn't like that this is my story because he wanted to keep me in depression and he wanted me to succeed in taking my own life. This demon is after my soul and he will use strangers like this girl to trick me back into his hands. Only, he doesn't succeed.
Perhaps this girl was having a rough day. Maybe she was frustrated with her class. Maybe a loved one has recently passed away and she's struggling to understand. Perhaps she was incredibly focused on whatever she was looking at on her phone and my voice was distracting her. Obviously she has a lot of growing up to do because she could have just asked me nicely to keep it down while we walked but she used a very childish and immature tone. I'm not sure what was going on in her heart and her life at that moment but I'm sure it had nothing to do with the volume of my voice (and ya'll that know me, know that I've got a loud voice that carries a little too well, but that'll come in handy when I'm a teacher). I prayed for her and then went back and enjoyed the night with my friend, watching the premier of a television show and went home and didn't think of her again until I started writing this. I hope today is better for her.
Oh the things I learn from an obvious attack of the enemy. It wasn't the girl, it was satan trying to find a way back into my heart. But the problem with that is I've got God on my side and He likes to show up and fight for and with me when stuff like that happens. For I am the daughter of the Most High King and my voice matters in this world and I will not be silenced!
I replied with "why yes I can. thank you....at least we're outside."
She got all huffy puffy and walked past us as the rest of her class followed behind in silence most looking at their phones. And I spent the next 10 minute drive back to my friend's house complaining, rather loudly, about how rude this girl was and wondering why she felt my conversation with my friend had any impact on her whatsoever. She was also following incredibly close to us.
10 minutes of my life was way too much time worrying about this girl. Why she felt the need to silence me when I was having a light hearted conversation with my friend is beyond me. And it got me thinking and then this girl became a teaching from my awesome God.
You see, I spent a lot of my years growing up silent. I was under the impression that what I had to say was stupid and not important. And when I finally spoke the truth about my life the people who should have believed did not thus nailing home the fact that my voice was unimportant and my life didn't matter. The enemy of my soul whispered this fact into my ear for many, many years and I began to believe it at a very young age. But through the hard work of learning to take my thoughts captive and replace them with God's truth I have learned that my voice is just as important as anyone else's voice.
It was as if the devil used this girl to try and get to me again, to silence me, to make me feel bad about speaking. The devil doesn't want me speaking, he doesn't want me typing and he definitely doesn't me thinking I have something to say or type. You see, I have a testimony of how God's heart broke for me as a child being forgotten, unloved and abused. My testimony includes the love God had for me when I was stuck in depression and incredibly suicidal. And I have a story that tells of how God reached into my depths and taught me how to live close to His heart and in His truth! The enemy of my soul doesn't like that this is my story because he wanted to keep me in depression and he wanted me to succeed in taking my own life. This demon is after my soul and he will use strangers like this girl to trick me back into his hands. Only, he doesn't succeed.
Perhaps this girl was having a rough day. Maybe she was frustrated with her class. Maybe a loved one has recently passed away and she's struggling to understand. Perhaps she was incredibly focused on whatever she was looking at on her phone and my voice was distracting her. Obviously she has a lot of growing up to do because she could have just asked me nicely to keep it down while we walked but she used a very childish and immature tone. I'm not sure what was going on in her heart and her life at that moment but I'm sure it had nothing to do with the volume of my voice (and ya'll that know me, know that I've got a loud voice that carries a little too well, but that'll come in handy when I'm a teacher). I prayed for her and then went back and enjoyed the night with my friend, watching the premier of a television show and went home and didn't think of her again until I started writing this. I hope today is better for her.
Oh the things I learn from an obvious attack of the enemy. It wasn't the girl, it was satan trying to find a way back into my heart. But the problem with that is I've got God on my side and He likes to show up and fight for and with me when stuff like that happens. For I am the daughter of the Most High King and my voice matters in this world and I will not be silenced!
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
They love him so much...
It's a punch to stomach every time. Every time a family member of mine shows their love for him. Every time they post about their dad. Every time they love him.
I can't help but be overwhelmed with the possibility that I'm lying. That the devil has caused me to be crazy and to remember things that aren't true. As soon as I read her post that showed her love and respect for this man I was immediately in pain. The physical pain that comes with them loving him knocks the wind out of me every time. And I start to question why?
Why am I here alone? Why does he get my family? Why do they love him so much? Why did they cast me aside so easily? Why do I think I can get over it? Why do continue to fight my reality? Why does he get to be happy and I have to be miserable? Why did he do this to me? Why don't they believe me? Why don't they love me like they love him? Why am I stuck in this place where people think I'm doing great but when my reality sets in I lose all my steam? Why??????
The "whys" overwhelm my senses. The questioning begins. I can't help but feel I'm completely to blame for my pain. I told my mother I couldn't have a relationship with her while she was still with him. I brought the hate my brother feels towards me upon myself. I put my sister in the the position of being my only family left. But I tried with my grandmother the only way I knew how and she ignored me while responding to my cousins. It's like they've all joined forces to love him and hate me.
They physical pain that comes with my reality is often times too much to bear. I'm not sure how I get through it now but somehow I pray that the thoughts in my head that lead to the sharp objects go away. Those voices that tell me how I'll fee better after seeing the red scream in my ear begging me to give in. Are any of my long sleeve shirts clean? Where could you do it?
A whole new set of "whys" enter my mind. Why do they have so much power over me? Why does it hurt so much? Why can't I be free of them? Why does he still control me? Why can't I just enjoy my life here without thinking of them over there? Why am I still so easily hurt by their darkness? Why do I still feel like a victim when it comes to them, to him?
I don't know how I survive the pain any more. It's definitely not on my own strength. The wound in my soul has been ripped open today and it will take a few days to mend again. My broken heart needs the Healer. It wasn't an attack on me by my sister but it was an attack. Who am I to think I could be free of him? Of them?
Shepherd, guide me. Show me the meaning in all of this. Teach me how to break free. Heal this pain that reaches into my inmost depths. Be with me.
I can't help but be overwhelmed with the possibility that I'm lying. That the devil has caused me to be crazy and to remember things that aren't true. As soon as I read her post that showed her love and respect for this man I was immediately in pain. The physical pain that comes with them loving him knocks the wind out of me every time. And I start to question why?
Why am I here alone? Why does he get my family? Why do they love him so much? Why did they cast me aside so easily? Why do I think I can get over it? Why do continue to fight my reality? Why does he get to be happy and I have to be miserable? Why did he do this to me? Why don't they believe me? Why don't they love me like they love him? Why am I stuck in this place where people think I'm doing great but when my reality sets in I lose all my steam? Why??????
The "whys" overwhelm my senses. The questioning begins. I can't help but feel I'm completely to blame for my pain. I told my mother I couldn't have a relationship with her while she was still with him. I brought the hate my brother feels towards me upon myself. I put my sister in the the position of being my only family left. But I tried with my grandmother the only way I knew how and she ignored me while responding to my cousins. It's like they've all joined forces to love him and hate me.
They physical pain that comes with my reality is often times too much to bear. I'm not sure how I get through it now but somehow I pray that the thoughts in my head that lead to the sharp objects go away. Those voices that tell me how I'll fee better after seeing the red scream in my ear begging me to give in. Are any of my long sleeve shirts clean? Where could you do it?
A whole new set of "whys" enter my mind. Why do they have so much power over me? Why does it hurt so much? Why can't I be free of them? Why does he still control me? Why can't I just enjoy my life here without thinking of them over there? Why am I still so easily hurt by their darkness? Why do I still feel like a victim when it comes to them, to him?
I don't know how I survive the pain any more. It's definitely not on my own strength. The wound in my soul has been ripped open today and it will take a few days to mend again. My broken heart needs the Healer. It wasn't an attack on me by my sister but it was an attack. Who am I to think I could be free of him? Of them?
Shepherd, guide me. Show me the meaning in all of this. Teach me how to break free. Heal this pain that reaches into my inmost depths. Be with me.
Friday, August 17, 2012
And Girl and Her Sparkling Diamonds
As I laid back on those cement staircase that led to the second floor of the apartment complex I gazed, completely lost, at the sparkling diamonds in the night sky. My 11 year old heart yearning for answers and hope. I would sneak out of the apartment, leaving all the drama inside, and sit on those steps for what seemed an eternity. It was peaceful there, under the beautifully diamond decorated ceiling. No one was yelling at me for something I had done or didn't do. No one was touching me in places a girl of my age shouldn't be touched. And nothing was wrong in my life under that sky.
I saw shapes in the stars high above my world. And though I didn't know God very well, I felt Him under that sky. Who would think that you could see the stars in a big city in California? But God gave me the ability to see how much He cared for those diamonds in the sky. He placed our apartment in the back, away from the busy city streets with all their lights. I was able to sit on those cement steps and wish with all my heart that no one would notice I was outside and call me in.
Underneath those twinkling stars my little part of the world was safe and I knew God was with me on those steps. He whispered to my soul when I would visit Him there. He gave me strength to continue until our next meeting on the outside steps. He promised me everything would be okay and that things would get better. My little 11 year old soul knew that under the stars that sing God's praise she would be loved in a way she never knew was possible. The night sky became my refuge after the horribleness of my daylight hours.
Now, when I walk outside at night and am blessed with a clear sky and lots of sparkling diamonds, I know I am cared for and loved in a way that no one else can really show me. I dove into astronomy for a while because I was fascinated with the science behind these unbelievable creations. I even took a course at the planetarium one summer - escaping from my home life into God's world.
What I love about being a grown up now is that whenever that little girl is feeling the pain, I just look up into the diamond sky and feel the presence of God and I am filled with the hope and wonderment that she felt all those years and miles ago. I am grateful for the dark canvas that God painted with sparkling diamonds just for me (and maybe you too)!
I saw shapes in the stars high above my world. And though I didn't know God very well, I felt Him under that sky. Who would think that you could see the stars in a big city in California? But God gave me the ability to see how much He cared for those diamonds in the sky. He placed our apartment in the back, away from the busy city streets with all their lights. I was able to sit on those cement steps and wish with all my heart that no one would notice I was outside and call me in.
Underneath those twinkling stars my little part of the world was safe and I knew God was with me on those steps. He whispered to my soul when I would visit Him there. He gave me strength to continue until our next meeting on the outside steps. He promised me everything would be okay and that things would get better. My little 11 year old soul knew that under the stars that sing God's praise she would be loved in a way she never knew was possible. The night sky became my refuge after the horribleness of my daylight hours.
Now, when I walk outside at night and am blessed with a clear sky and lots of sparkling diamonds, I know I am cared for and loved in a way that no one else can really show me. I dove into astronomy for a while because I was fascinated with the science behind these unbelievable creations. I even took a course at the planetarium one summer - escaping from my home life into God's world.
What I love about being a grown up now is that whenever that little girl is feeling the pain, I just look up into the diamond sky and feel the presence of God and I am filled with the hope and wonderment that she felt all those years and miles ago. I am grateful for the dark canvas that God painted with sparkling diamonds just for me (and maybe you too)!
Thursday, August 2, 2012
Sitting with "Why?"
Tonight I'm asking "why?"
I know it's not the best thing to focus on but yet here I am wondering why.
Why am I here in this city? Why did my mom choose him?
Why does my brother hate me? Why is he my villian and my sister's hero?
Why did I get booted out of my family?
Why do people treat me like a broken little girl?
Why does my abuser get to strive and I have to struggle?
Why was I not liked by other kids? Why do my high school "friends" ignore me?
Why did he seek me out? Why did he choose my family?
Why did my family choose him? Why did I end up homeless at 18?
Why did I have to miss out on my senior year?
Why did I not fully embrace the options offered to me by my high school?
Why did I not finish college? Why did I get kicked out of college?
Why is it so hard to heal? Why do they have so much control over me?
Why am I here? Why am I so alone when I have such great friends and people in my life?
Why do people try and tell me what to do when I hate being treated like a child?
Why do certain persons who have not earned my trust try to act like a mother to me when I don't have or need a mother?
Why are my teeth so messed up? Why can't I find a new job?
Why did he do what he did? Why did find me?
Why didn't my family save me? Why didn't they stick up for me?
Why am I here?
Why? Why? Why?
I know that asking "why?" isn't the best thing to focus on. Yet here I am wondering why.
I'm sitting here with my questions. Crying them out to God. I know I shouldn't focus on this and that the answer will probably never come. God works everything out for the good of those who love Him right? So there have to be answers as to why what has happened has happened. I don't these answers and I don't think I ever will here on earth. The workings of God are way beyond my ability to understand and I am fully aware that I have NO idea what He can do with my life and my story. But nonetheless, I sit here with my questions and my tears and I bring my whole self to God and ask Him to hear my questions and to comfort me in the pain they cause. These are the questions I carry around with me all day long. As as the day progresses I get sick to my stomach because of all stress and pain being held there. I have no way to make it go away. I have no answers to my questions. All I'm doing is sitting because the one person I want to hold me while I cry out the pain is the mother that chose to love the cause of my most severe pain and leave me out to try and survive on my own. So through Christ I overcome but for now I sit, crying myself to sleep, aware of all the questions that burden my soul on a moment by moment basis.
I know it's not the best thing to focus on but yet here I am wondering why.
Why am I here in this city? Why did my mom choose him?
Why does my brother hate me? Why is he my villian and my sister's hero?
Why did I get booted out of my family?
Why do people treat me like a broken little girl?
Why does my abuser get to strive and I have to struggle?
Why was I not liked by other kids? Why do my high school "friends" ignore me?
Why did he seek me out? Why did he choose my family?
Why did my family choose him? Why did I end up homeless at 18?
Why did I have to miss out on my senior year?
Why did I not fully embrace the options offered to me by my high school?
Why did I not finish college? Why did I get kicked out of college?
Why is it so hard to heal? Why do they have so much control over me?
Why am I here? Why am I so alone when I have such great friends and people in my life?
Why do people try and tell me what to do when I hate being treated like a child?
Why do certain persons who have not earned my trust try to act like a mother to me when I don't have or need a mother?
Why are my teeth so messed up? Why can't I find a new job?
Why did he do what he did? Why did find me?
Why didn't my family save me? Why didn't they stick up for me?
Why am I here?
Why? Why? Why?
I know that asking "why?" isn't the best thing to focus on. Yet here I am wondering why.
I'm sitting here with my questions. Crying them out to God. I know I shouldn't focus on this and that the answer will probably never come. God works everything out for the good of those who love Him right? So there have to be answers as to why what has happened has happened. I don't these answers and I don't think I ever will here on earth. The workings of God are way beyond my ability to understand and I am fully aware that I have NO idea what He can do with my life and my story. But nonetheless, I sit here with my questions and my tears and I bring my whole self to God and ask Him to hear my questions and to comfort me in the pain they cause. These are the questions I carry around with me all day long. As as the day progresses I get sick to my stomach because of all stress and pain being held there. I have no way to make it go away. I have no answers to my questions. All I'm doing is sitting because the one person I want to hold me while I cry out the pain is the mother that chose to love the cause of my most severe pain and leave me out to try and survive on my own. So through Christ I overcome but for now I sit, crying myself to sleep, aware of all the questions that burden my soul on a moment by moment basis.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Tarnished Favorites
I spent the past hour deciding on a new facebook cover which was really just a procrastination of what I know I need to write here. I also needed to decide if I wanted to share what I'm about to share here or on my blog that I keep secret from the people who know me in real life. I decided that sometimes things just need to be said and sometimes the words I write speak to other people in their situations so I'm going to go ahead and share it here....
I love the pool. I've always loved the pool. I am free in the pool. All my troubles in life seem to disappear when I'm swimming laps, gliding through the water or just floating on the top of it. Being in the pool makes me feel home. My size doesn't matter. My hair doesn't matter. I move through the water with ease and all the junk in the world outside of the pool doesn't hold me back, bear me down or keep me prisoner. In the pool I am free. I've always been free. I don't remember a time where I didn't know how to swim and swim well. As a kid I was on a swim team on season and did well. We had a pool where we lived and the imagination that comes alive under water is mesmerizing. Freedom is what I find in the water.
But there's a dark side to the water too. Like everything I tend to enjoy life, a darkness creeps on the edge of my happiness just waiting for the right moment to strike. It's normally when I am most free from everything going on and genuinely enjoying the moment for what it is. This darkness is powerful and has been haunting for more than half my life. It waits eagerly for it's chance to suffocate me with its bare hands.
When I was eleven we lived in an apartment complex in California with a pool. I only remember two times we went swimming though I'm sure it was a lot more than that. Both times there were a lot of people around. My family. One time was for my sister's birthday and the other time was when my step siblings were visiting us. Each time my step father was there in all his powerful evilness. I remember swimming and him calling me over to him. The first time he just moved my suit out of the way and touched me in a place where little girls should never be touched by their stepfathers. The second time he had me against the wall and made me wrap my legs around him. Again, feeling things in places I had no business feeling. All the while my family, my mother, the people who were supposed to protect me lived their lives without noticing the darkness that was gaining control of my life. He made it look to them like we were having healthy, normal father-daughter play in the pool but the reality was he was tarnishing the one escape I had from all the other evils in the world.
Now, I try and get people to come with me to the pool so that I am not overwhelmed by the images that play in my head and the darkness doesn't overtake me. I am grateful for the voice of God that speaks to me when I'm alone in the pool, reminding me that I am safe and that swimming should bring me joy and the darkness can't take it away anymore.
But as I swam in the water tonight those movies that are on constant repeat haunted my every move. The pain that comes from my soul, from my very center is so real sometimes. The images are so vivid. The darkness waits for times like that and it makes its attempt to overtake me again. To get me to believe how it's all my fault, that I caused all the pain I feel and that my life is not enjoyable. The darkness hurls its twisted logic my way and this is when I'm grateful that I no longer fight these battles on my own.
You see, when my human memories are too much to bear and the darkness tries to find its way back into my heart, my God comes to my rescue. His Truth comes from within me and fights off the attack. He reminds me that my life has purpose and that even though my family didn't protect me, He's doing a pretty good job. He reminds me that He brought me to this place where I never thought I'd be. I have friends who love me, trust me and encourage me. Everyone has pain and I am just lucky enough to have partnered with the One True Healer who has bound my every wound and when a stitch comes undone, He's right there to repair it.
The movies that play in my head tarnish everything. Since my stepfather was in every part of my life, controlled every part of my life, and did things in every place, he has tarnished my ability to go a day without thinking of him. He has allowed the darkness to follow me into every situation, just waiting for something to trigger a memory, a crack in my defense. But there is a God who fills in the cracks and comes to my side to fight the battle with me. He doesn't take the pain away, but He comforts me when it is too much to bear alone. And with Him by my side and in my heart I am more than able to enjoy the things that my stepfather has tarnished on most occasions. Without nights like tonight though, I think its possible I would forget how much I need God in my every day moments, just to make it through people drinking coffee around me and eating ramen noodles on a budget. I'm thankful for my war partner!
I love the pool. I've always loved the pool. I am free in the pool. All my troubles in life seem to disappear when I'm swimming laps, gliding through the water or just floating on the top of it. Being in the pool makes me feel home. My size doesn't matter. My hair doesn't matter. I move through the water with ease and all the junk in the world outside of the pool doesn't hold me back, bear me down or keep me prisoner. In the pool I am free. I've always been free. I don't remember a time where I didn't know how to swim and swim well. As a kid I was on a swim team on season and did well. We had a pool where we lived and the imagination that comes alive under water is mesmerizing. Freedom is what I find in the water.
But there's a dark side to the water too. Like everything I tend to enjoy life, a darkness creeps on the edge of my happiness just waiting for the right moment to strike. It's normally when I am most free from everything going on and genuinely enjoying the moment for what it is. This darkness is powerful and has been haunting for more than half my life. It waits eagerly for it's chance to suffocate me with its bare hands.
When I was eleven we lived in an apartment complex in California with a pool. I only remember two times we went swimming though I'm sure it was a lot more than that. Both times there were a lot of people around. My family. One time was for my sister's birthday and the other time was when my step siblings were visiting us. Each time my step father was there in all his powerful evilness. I remember swimming and him calling me over to him. The first time he just moved my suit out of the way and touched me in a place where little girls should never be touched by their stepfathers. The second time he had me against the wall and made me wrap my legs around him. Again, feeling things in places I had no business feeling. All the while my family, my mother, the people who were supposed to protect me lived their lives without noticing the darkness that was gaining control of my life. He made it look to them like we were having healthy, normal father-daughter play in the pool but the reality was he was tarnishing the one escape I had from all the other evils in the world.
Now, I try and get people to come with me to the pool so that I am not overwhelmed by the images that play in my head and the darkness doesn't overtake me. I am grateful for the voice of God that speaks to me when I'm alone in the pool, reminding me that I am safe and that swimming should bring me joy and the darkness can't take it away anymore.
But as I swam in the water tonight those movies that are on constant repeat haunted my every move. The pain that comes from my soul, from my very center is so real sometimes. The images are so vivid. The darkness waits for times like that and it makes its attempt to overtake me again. To get me to believe how it's all my fault, that I caused all the pain I feel and that my life is not enjoyable. The darkness hurls its twisted logic my way and this is when I'm grateful that I no longer fight these battles on my own.
You see, when my human memories are too much to bear and the darkness tries to find its way back into my heart, my God comes to my rescue. His Truth comes from within me and fights off the attack. He reminds me that my life has purpose and that even though my family didn't protect me, He's doing a pretty good job. He reminds me that He brought me to this place where I never thought I'd be. I have friends who love me, trust me and encourage me. Everyone has pain and I am just lucky enough to have partnered with the One True Healer who has bound my every wound and when a stitch comes undone, He's right there to repair it.
The movies that play in my head tarnish everything. Since my stepfather was in every part of my life, controlled every part of my life, and did things in every place, he has tarnished my ability to go a day without thinking of him. He has allowed the darkness to follow me into every situation, just waiting for something to trigger a memory, a crack in my defense. But there is a God who fills in the cracks and comes to my side to fight the battle with me. He doesn't take the pain away, but He comforts me when it is too much to bear alone. And with Him by my side and in my heart I am more than able to enjoy the things that my stepfather has tarnished on most occasions. Without nights like tonight though, I think its possible I would forget how much I need God in my every day moments, just to make it through people drinking coffee around me and eating ramen noodles on a budget. I'm thankful for my war partner!
Wednesday, July 4, 2012
Holiday Reflecting....
July 4th. The day America celebrates independence and freedom and the men and women who fight to give us these rights. A holiday for gathering together with friends and family, cooking out and enjoying the company of your loved one.
I've been having mixed feelings all day. Those emotions that tell me how much I miss my family and how I'm sad I cannot be around them for yet another holiday - they are strong. Throughout the day all I can think of is my family and since I spent Monday night sharing my story in a psychology class the wounds are at the surface - makes it just a little bit harder to accept the fact that I am spending another holiday without them. And I cried out to God about how I couldn't spend another holiday alone. No matter how many people invite me over to their homes to be around their families the pain and reality that I am without a family of my own is ever present.
But today I had a great day. I won a battle with my cell phone service provider and got a credit on my account. My friend and her two girls came over to swim and have lunch. Then we went grocery shopping together and I went over to their house to do laundry and have dinner. And we painted our nails and had a relaxing and fun day overall. Now I am home, sad that I wasn't able to tune into the NYC Macy's fireworks but happy that as I look out my window I have perfect view of some fireworks. And I'm reminded of my first 4th of July here in my new home community.
Every year around this time the hot air balloons and fast planes come into town and make lots of noise. I remember standing at my bedroom window wondering what was going on because I had no clue it was an annual thing. I remember watching the world celebrate the day from my bedroom. It had only been a few months since my last suicide attempt and probably only a few hours since my last cut. I desperately wanted my mom to be with me, to hold me and tell me everything would be okay. I wasn't sure how I ended up in this apartment, in this city, in this state. Everything was happening so fast and all I wanted was an escape.
It amazes me just how far I have come in the six years since that time. The overwhelming urge to die and the overpowering darkness in which I was held captive controlled my every thought, feeling and action. I didn't understand how my life had become what it was. I had no friends, no family, no body. I was all alone in that world. And I thought it was all my fault, everything was always my fault. Today is 180 degrees different from that time. Yes, it sucks that I can't be around family and that I don't feel comfortable around most people for any holiday but I am much better at living through the things that suck.
I am no longer living in darkness and depression. I am growing, continuously transforming from the inside out. God heard my cry not for death but for life. He put it on my friend's heart to invite me to hang with her because she too had no plans for the day and we had a fantastic time. There was no rigid structure to our day and we just did what we wanted and some of what we needed. It felt more like any other day off from work and I loved it. Of course today there are fireworks outside which remarkably bring me some form of comfort (which is weird because I've never really been one to celebrate this holiday even when I lived with my family).
Guess what I'm trying to say is that I am grateful today for the transformation in my life that God has brought over these past six years and will continue to do for me all of my days on earth. Despite all the yuckiness of my life - there is so much good and I live in the good the best I can. And with the good comes independence from self-harm and freedom from darkness!
Happy 4th of July!
I've been having mixed feelings all day. Those emotions that tell me how much I miss my family and how I'm sad I cannot be around them for yet another holiday - they are strong. Throughout the day all I can think of is my family and since I spent Monday night sharing my story in a psychology class the wounds are at the surface - makes it just a little bit harder to accept the fact that I am spending another holiday without them. And I cried out to God about how I couldn't spend another holiday alone. No matter how many people invite me over to their homes to be around their families the pain and reality that I am without a family of my own is ever present.
But today I had a great day. I won a battle with my cell phone service provider and got a credit on my account. My friend and her two girls came over to swim and have lunch. Then we went grocery shopping together and I went over to their house to do laundry and have dinner. And we painted our nails and had a relaxing and fun day overall. Now I am home, sad that I wasn't able to tune into the NYC Macy's fireworks but happy that as I look out my window I have perfect view of some fireworks. And I'm reminded of my first 4th of July here in my new home community.
Every year around this time the hot air balloons and fast planes come into town and make lots of noise. I remember standing at my bedroom window wondering what was going on because I had no clue it was an annual thing. I remember watching the world celebrate the day from my bedroom. It had only been a few months since my last suicide attempt and probably only a few hours since my last cut. I desperately wanted my mom to be with me, to hold me and tell me everything would be okay. I wasn't sure how I ended up in this apartment, in this city, in this state. Everything was happening so fast and all I wanted was an escape.
It amazes me just how far I have come in the six years since that time. The overwhelming urge to die and the overpowering darkness in which I was held captive controlled my every thought, feeling and action. I didn't understand how my life had become what it was. I had no friends, no family, no body. I was all alone in that world. And I thought it was all my fault, everything was always my fault. Today is 180 degrees different from that time. Yes, it sucks that I can't be around family and that I don't feel comfortable around most people for any holiday but I am much better at living through the things that suck.
I am no longer living in darkness and depression. I am growing, continuously transforming from the inside out. God heard my cry not for death but for life. He put it on my friend's heart to invite me to hang with her because she too had no plans for the day and we had a fantastic time. There was no rigid structure to our day and we just did what we wanted and some of what we needed. It felt more like any other day off from work and I loved it. Of course today there are fireworks outside which remarkably bring me some form of comfort (which is weird because I've never really been one to celebrate this holiday even when I lived with my family).
Guess what I'm trying to say is that I am grateful today for the transformation in my life that God has brought over these past six years and will continue to do for me all of my days on earth. Despite all the yuckiness of my life - there is so much good and I live in the good the best I can. And with the good comes independence from self-harm and freedom from darkness!
Happy 4th of July!
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Childlike Faith Taught By a Child
I was taught a very important lesson today. My teacher was a 4 year old boy. I refer to him as my nephew because his mom is one of my best friends and he is more to me than just the child of a friend. As I reflect on my day, I realize the few moments I spent with him today taught me so much. Today I looked at him as a leader - who woulda thunk it?
Let me explain a little more. I picked up one his younger sisters after work to have some girl time in the pool. She found a cat toy from a happy meal that I bought a long time ago. I let her keep it. We got back to her home and went inside to eat dinner. Their mom and I got to talking and the kids were playing around us. Their mom made a comment about how they pray every night for Jesus to give the girl courage to go to sleep without her pacifier. I said that was a great prayer. This is where my teacher came in.
Seeing the toy his sister had he was reminded that he also had one of those happy meal toys. His was a panda. He looked all over for his panda but could've find it. He asked his mom and she gave him a few ideas of where to look. But he couldn't find it. After hearing us talk about prayer, he put his hands together, bowed his head and prayed, "Dear God, please help me to find my panda. Amen." I told him that was a great prayer and I bet God is going to help him find it now. And as if God flipped a switch, his mom knew exactly where it was and they went to find it!
My little 4 year old nephew had such faith in God to help him find what was important at that moment. He really showed me what it meant to have the childlike faith. Those things which are important to us are important to God and He has created you so He knows the longings of your soul. To turn to God for what was important at that moment in time for my young nephew has connected the dots for me. Having faith in the big things is important. But having faith in the every moment, the here and now, the life I have right now...that's childlike. Knowing, without doubt, that God is able to help you find your panda, its childlike faith.
I like to think that I have faith in God. I know that He is who He says He is, but that's not the type of faith I'm talking about here. I'm talking about the knowing that it will work out for good, knowing that God's got your back no matter what the situation and believing with all your heart that God loves you, knows you, and cares for your heart. I'm not sure I have childlike faith in the every moment. Most days I'm questing God for the majority of the 24 hours. Wondering how it is I got where I'm at and why my family can't be my family and why I keep feeling this awful feelings. I doubt that I'll ever be at a point where I can belong to a family again. I doubt my own memories. And I often doubt that anything will change from my life right now.
But what my young nephew taught me today was that God is right there beside me. He is listening and He cares about what I'm doubting and what I'm questioning and what I'm longing for. He knows where my panda is and He is gently guiding my steps to discover it. How blessed am I to be taught such wonderful lessons from such a great kid!
Let me explain a little more. I picked up one his younger sisters after work to have some girl time in the pool. She found a cat toy from a happy meal that I bought a long time ago. I let her keep it. We got back to her home and went inside to eat dinner. Their mom and I got to talking and the kids were playing around us. Their mom made a comment about how they pray every night for Jesus to give the girl courage to go to sleep without her pacifier. I said that was a great prayer. This is where my teacher came in.
Seeing the toy his sister had he was reminded that he also had one of those happy meal toys. His was a panda. He looked all over for his panda but could've find it. He asked his mom and she gave him a few ideas of where to look. But he couldn't find it. After hearing us talk about prayer, he put his hands together, bowed his head and prayed, "Dear God, please help me to find my panda. Amen." I told him that was a great prayer and I bet God is going to help him find it now. And as if God flipped a switch, his mom knew exactly where it was and they went to find it!
My little 4 year old nephew had such faith in God to help him find what was important at that moment. He really showed me what it meant to have the childlike faith. Those things which are important to us are important to God and He has created you so He knows the longings of your soul. To turn to God for what was important at that moment in time for my young nephew has connected the dots for me. Having faith in the big things is important. But having faith in the every moment, the here and now, the life I have right now...that's childlike. Knowing, without doubt, that God is able to help you find your panda, its childlike faith.
I like to think that I have faith in God. I know that He is who He says He is, but that's not the type of faith I'm talking about here. I'm talking about the knowing that it will work out for good, knowing that God's got your back no matter what the situation and believing with all your heart that God loves you, knows you, and cares for your heart. I'm not sure I have childlike faith in the every moment. Most days I'm questing God for the majority of the 24 hours. Wondering how it is I got where I'm at and why my family can't be my family and why I keep feeling this awful feelings. I doubt that I'll ever be at a point where I can belong to a family again. I doubt my own memories. And I often doubt that anything will change from my life right now.
But what my young nephew taught me today was that God is right there beside me. He is listening and He cares about what I'm doubting and what I'm questioning and what I'm longing for. He knows where my panda is and He is gently guiding my steps to discover it. How blessed am I to be taught such wonderful lessons from such a great kid!
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
A Day of Growth Through Pain
Today was a challenging day. It started with my brother sending me an email full of hate, anger and brokenness. I'm not sure what prompted him to write that email but whatever it was I'm sad that he felt he needed to attack me with his words. I went ahead and tried to go into work and not let his words affect, after all I know what he says about me is not truth but twisted and deceitful beliefs. However, around lunch time I knew I had enough of people seeing me in my sadness and asking me if I was okay because obviously I was NOT OKAY but they can't help asking and trying to help me feel better. I left there and went to the store to take my emotions out on my bank account while obtaining a few items I needed at home. From there I went home, ate lunch, then took my emotions to the pool. After that I was blessed to have on my calendar time with my completely awesome spiritual director and church mom.
Now after a treat to a mini concrete mixer from Culver's to replenish all those emotions and water to wash replenish my tears, here I sit writing about the journey I took today.
"My sheep will know my voice and a stranger they will not follow."
Today I was attacked not by my brother but by Satan himself, using my brother as a vessel. In the same way Christ uses humans to speak His words so can the enemy. I am not angry at my brother for the threats he made against me and I am not angry at him for the way he has decided to cope with the truth of my story and the information he now has regarding our stepfather. If he needs to be angry at me, I can take it. I've taken his anger my whole life and we live thousands of miles apart so I'm not all that worried about him hurting me. I am thankful that I was able to recognize the evil in his words right away and that I begun to fight them right then and there. It may take me a while to process to protect and calm the little girl inside who is very much afraid of her big, angry brother but once I'm there I can certainly discern that his words are not truth and he in his mind he just needs to be angry at someone.
During work today many people could see that I was not myself. They could tell I had been crying and that my world was not perfect. I talked with only one person about it and she was nice and encouraging. But in those moments I don't want anyone to try and fix me. I've been surviving for a very long time with my family's decisions and I have distanced myself from them, not without lots of grief and pain. Being around people became too much to bear at work. I couldn't control my tears in that environment with people stopping in and asking me questions. It seemed as though once I was back in control someone else would come in and I'd lose it again. So I got permission to leave at lunch.
I spent an hour walking around a store looking at almost everything. Then I came home and had lunch. But the best part of the day was being able to take all the thoughts, emotions and pain into the pool and run laps until I felt better. Swimming does something for me. I was the only person there so I was able to use the full length of the pool for laps of all kinds. Then just being able to float and watch the clouds roll by. I am at home in a pool (I'd say in water but I'm not a fan of beaches). It was here that the voice of Truth started to make its way from inside my soul and speak to the current situation. Knowing that I am loved and that I am living in the Light is comforting. I was reminded that standing for what's right often means standing alone. Except I'm not alone am I? No. It just so happens that my family is unable to be apart of my journey for they are not strong enough to accept this truth.
Meeting with my spiritual director really sealed the deal. We began with prayer and God really moved in that room for me. I was encouraged in my ability to discern the voice of God from the voice a stranger. I was loved in a way that I'm not sure I've ever been before. And I taught, I'm always taught.
This journey of life can be so complicated at times. At other times it really can be so simple. My life is not perfect. I am definitely not perfect. And I'm discovering that the people that really matter are the ones that love me despite all my imperfections, with all my scars and in the Spirit. And even though the devil's words that came through my brother threatened to destroy me if I ever shared my story again I WILL NOT BE SILENT! The world has done a lot to destroy me but my God has rescued me and He has blessed my life in ways I could have never imagined. I will NOT go back into hiding and I hope that by sharing my story others are encouraged to seek God and let Him rescue them.
So...nice try devil but you don't win this battle!!!!!
P.S. Thank you to everyone who has let me join their spiritual family. You mean the world to me and your children minister to my heart more than anything else. I am honored that you place your trust in me and that you have gotten to know me for me and not my imperfections.
Now after a treat to a mini concrete mixer from Culver's to replenish all those emotions and water to wash replenish my tears, here I sit writing about the journey I took today.
"My sheep will know my voice and a stranger they will not follow."
Today I was attacked not by my brother but by Satan himself, using my brother as a vessel. In the same way Christ uses humans to speak His words so can the enemy. I am not angry at my brother for the threats he made against me and I am not angry at him for the way he has decided to cope with the truth of my story and the information he now has regarding our stepfather. If he needs to be angry at me, I can take it. I've taken his anger my whole life and we live thousands of miles apart so I'm not all that worried about him hurting me. I am thankful that I was able to recognize the evil in his words right away and that I begun to fight them right then and there. It may take me a while to process to protect and calm the little girl inside who is very much afraid of her big, angry brother but once I'm there I can certainly discern that his words are not truth and he in his mind he just needs to be angry at someone.
During work today many people could see that I was not myself. They could tell I had been crying and that my world was not perfect. I talked with only one person about it and she was nice and encouraging. But in those moments I don't want anyone to try and fix me. I've been surviving for a very long time with my family's decisions and I have distanced myself from them, not without lots of grief and pain. Being around people became too much to bear at work. I couldn't control my tears in that environment with people stopping in and asking me questions. It seemed as though once I was back in control someone else would come in and I'd lose it again. So I got permission to leave at lunch.
I spent an hour walking around a store looking at almost everything. Then I came home and had lunch. But the best part of the day was being able to take all the thoughts, emotions and pain into the pool and run laps until I felt better. Swimming does something for me. I was the only person there so I was able to use the full length of the pool for laps of all kinds. Then just being able to float and watch the clouds roll by. I am at home in a pool (I'd say in water but I'm not a fan of beaches). It was here that the voice of Truth started to make its way from inside my soul and speak to the current situation. Knowing that I am loved and that I am living in the Light is comforting. I was reminded that standing for what's right often means standing alone. Except I'm not alone am I? No. It just so happens that my family is unable to be apart of my journey for they are not strong enough to accept this truth.
Meeting with my spiritual director really sealed the deal. We began with prayer and God really moved in that room for me. I was encouraged in my ability to discern the voice of God from the voice a stranger. I was loved in a way that I'm not sure I've ever been before. And I taught, I'm always taught.
This journey of life can be so complicated at times. At other times it really can be so simple. My life is not perfect. I am definitely not perfect. And I'm discovering that the people that really matter are the ones that love me despite all my imperfections, with all my scars and in the Spirit. And even though the devil's words that came through my brother threatened to destroy me if I ever shared my story again I WILL NOT BE SILENT! The world has done a lot to destroy me but my God has rescued me and He has blessed my life in ways I could have never imagined. I will NOT go back into hiding and I hope that by sharing my story others are encouraged to seek God and let Him rescue them.
So...nice try devil but you don't win this battle!!!!!
P.S. Thank you to everyone who has let me join their spiritual family. You mean the world to me and your children minister to my heart more than anything else. I am honored that you place your trust in me and that you have gotten to know me for me and not my imperfections.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Breaking Generational Curses
I have spent some time over the past few months looking up my family history on ancestry.com. I've talked with my father a bit about the little information he knows about his parents' family and my mother already has a tree going waaay back that I was able to see.
I was lucky and actually found my biological grandfather on another user's tree and after a few emails we have decided that we are indeed related even though neither of us knew my grandfather (she is his half-sister). I have also discovered a lot of brokenness in my family's history on both sides. I guess I've always known divorce ran rampant throughout my family but seeing the physical evidence in new to me. And there appears to be a lot of secrecy and abandonment in my family's history. I can only predict that was probably a lot of worldly factors such as alcohol, lust and abuse leading to the incredible amount of brokenness in my biological line - but knowing what we know now, I'm sure there was a lot of that going on. When it comes to my Mexican roots I'm having the hardest time even finding information about my grandmother and her mother. It's like they don't exist on paper. Not even my grandmother's marriage to my step-grandfather shows up on marriage records. I have a feeling that I most likely won't discover any more information about my Mexican roots until I can hire someone or make my way down to Pennsylvania and Texas to see if the information I have is correct.
Here's what's interesting...
I see that patterns in my biological family's history. I compare what I know about the past with the current events of my family and I see how they are caught up in the cycle. Then I look at my life.
In my life I see the cycle that tried to control my life. It was there my whole life. Abandonment, alcohol, abuse in every form, depression, broken home and confusion. I lived in that mess because I didn't have a choice and the hand dealt to my family was being dealt to me at a very young age.
Today, I see something completely different. In my life there is healing, forgiveness, hope, peace in the storms and happiness. I am so incredibly grateful to my God for all the work He has done in my life. I know that He is bringing restoration to my family line through my life. It's hard to be the one that He set aside to show His mighty love through because there are things you just gotta do. You have deny the basic human instinct of belonging to the family you were born into. You have to accept what is and learn to live in the moment instead of hoping for your biological family to open up to the Truth you've known your whole life. You have to be in control of your actions and you have to grow up. Being the one that brings life back into your family tree takes a lot work but it can be done with God by your side.
I hope to one day have a family that is free from the generational bondage I was born into. I hope they can experience the fruit from all the sensationally difficult choices I've made in my life to break free. God has promised great things to me and while I choose to live in the moment of today and let Him control my future I know I am in a safe place. And when I'm old and gray haired and my race comes to a strong finish my family's new path will be one of my greatest accomplishments.
Breaking chains, breaking curses!
Friday, May 11, 2012
Fellowship and New Names!
What a wonderful night I was blessed with! 100 women gathered together to hear from God in solitude and then share time of fellowship. We ate food, sang worship songs, shared stories and then ate s'mores! I met some new friends and chatted with old ones that I don't get to talk to very often. And a handful of ladies even stayed by the fire until long after most people had left and we shared stories of all sorts of different things (mostly animal related though). I almost didn't go because I just wasn't "feeling it." But I am so glad that I made myself go!
Tonight we talked about the name that God has for us and the person in the Scriptures that we saw ourselves in. A few years ago it was spoken over me that I was like Abigail (1st Samuel 25) and that her name meant "Father's Joy." I have held on to that word and read her story many times. I've also seen myself in Isaiah 62 as being called Hephzibah (which means "my delight is in her"). But tonight I tried to find myself in the examples given on the paper...and I just couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, God was simply not giving me any other name.
Abigail...
Abigail was a very wise woman and her name definitely reflects the joy that is within me. However, there was something different about tonight. Tonight I was breaking the chains of a lot of words spoken over me throughout my years. Words that I thought I had gotten rid of but obviously still have a hold in my life. Things like "unwanted", "cow", "unlovable", "undesirable", and "out of place." It wasn't until others were sharing that I finally understood what God was speaking to me about Abigail in this season of my life.
She was married to a rich, powerful and evil man. For whatever reason it was she found herself in this family where she did not belong. Her husband was selfish and did not serve the soldiers of King David when they came asking for help though he had plenty to share. So, King David was ready to come back and wreak havoc upon his house. That included Abigail and the servants. So Abigail took a wise, courageous leap of faith and went to meet David with all the supplies his men had requested. Afterwards, she returned home to her husband and the Lord struck him down. After hearing of her husband's death, King David extended an offer of marriage and Abigail finally found her proper place in King's family.
You see, she was in the wrong family. She was courageous, wise and full of joy. She didn't let the fear of what her husband may do if he found out what she did stop her from acting in a godly way to honor the king and keep the peace in her home. And God honored that. He freed her from the bondage of the wrong family and placed her in a better home.
I believe that I am like Abigail in this way. I had to stand up and make a courageous decision in my family that I was in. I have to stand every day because the family I was a part of was the wrong family for me. It's no wonder I felt out of place there. God has so much more for me in the years to come. And while things happened quickly for Abigail, God has made it clear that He is taking His time with me because He has a very deliberate work He is doing in my soul. The restoration process takes time (a whole nother blog for a later time) and a gentle hand.
I know that God has already given me a Church family to belong to and for that I am ever grateful. And tonight He reminded me that my dreams of having my own family should be kept on the list and haven't gone anywhere. He's just taking His time.
I am Abigail, the Father's joy!
Monday, May 7, 2012
my sparkle can't be lost
i had quite the saddening experience tonight. it lasted less than five minutes but it almost took my sparkle away.
while enjoying dinner with one of my besties, i was sharing my plan for finishing up my degree in education and following it with time overseas with the Peace Corps. then our neighbors at the table next to us decided to chime in.
"do not become a teacher. do not waste your time unless you can't see yourself doing anything else. the pay isn't that great and its gotten horrible in the schools. it was my career and I'm retired now. I don't recommend it to anyone anymore. stay away from education. don't be a teacher."
i couldn't believe it. this stranger at the table next to me spent her time listening to our conversation (i couldn't tell you one word in their conversation) and then instilling more fear into my life and telling me not to go after a dream of mine. why would she do this? her life probably hasn't been the easiest but she also hasn't lived the life i've lived. i'm also younger than she is so the condition of education and schools and youth isn't anything new to me (it's only been a few years since i was in high school anyway). i just do not understand how someone can offer unwanted, discouraging advice to someone with a sparkle?
i have wanted to be a teacher since kindergarten and it's been the world that has kept me from that. the world broke me and if all i cared about was money i know i'm smart enough to go into some career that would earn me lots but that's not what a teacher cares about. she did make a good observation though: "teachers are born, not made." i was born to be a teacher and i have found that where and how i want to serve my God just happens to require a bachelor's degree. plus its a step forward and that's better than standing still getting left behind in life.
I'm lucky because the friend i was with helped remind me that this stranger has no place in my life and that I can do whatever I want. I figure that i know where God wants me to go and that at the end of this phase He will show me the next step. I know that the "teaching field" isn't the most ideal career to go into but its the field for me and no stranger can talk me out of it!
i want to be someone that helps children find their sparkle and keep it safe from the world and all the nay-sayers out there. God puts an individual, unique sparkle in each of us when He created us and its our job to discover what to do with that sparkle. the world will keep trying to cover it up, put it under a rock and knock it out of you, but it will never succeed. i will be a teacher and will let God show me where to take my sparkle!!!
while enjoying dinner with one of my besties, i was sharing my plan for finishing up my degree in education and following it with time overseas with the Peace Corps. then our neighbors at the table next to us decided to chime in.
"do not become a teacher. do not waste your time unless you can't see yourself doing anything else. the pay isn't that great and its gotten horrible in the schools. it was my career and I'm retired now. I don't recommend it to anyone anymore. stay away from education. don't be a teacher."
i couldn't believe it. this stranger at the table next to me spent her time listening to our conversation (i couldn't tell you one word in their conversation) and then instilling more fear into my life and telling me not to go after a dream of mine. why would she do this? her life probably hasn't been the easiest but she also hasn't lived the life i've lived. i'm also younger than she is so the condition of education and schools and youth isn't anything new to me (it's only been a few years since i was in high school anyway). i just do not understand how someone can offer unwanted, discouraging advice to someone with a sparkle?
i have wanted to be a teacher since kindergarten and it's been the world that has kept me from that. the world broke me and if all i cared about was money i know i'm smart enough to go into some career that would earn me lots but that's not what a teacher cares about. she did make a good observation though: "teachers are born, not made." i was born to be a teacher and i have found that where and how i want to serve my God just happens to require a bachelor's degree. plus its a step forward and that's better than standing still getting left behind in life.
I'm lucky because the friend i was with helped remind me that this stranger has no place in my life and that I can do whatever I want. I figure that i know where God wants me to go and that at the end of this phase He will show me the next step. I know that the "teaching field" isn't the most ideal career to go into but its the field for me and no stranger can talk me out of it!
i want to be someone that helps children find their sparkle and keep it safe from the world and all the nay-sayers out there. God puts an individual, unique sparkle in each of us when He created us and its our job to discover what to do with that sparkle. the world will keep trying to cover it up, put it under a rock and knock it out of you, but it will never succeed. i will be a teacher and will let God show me where to take my sparkle!!!
Saturday, April 21, 2012
WORDS
April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month. To honor those affected by sexual assault (i.e. everyone) our local SAS organization took the voices of survivors and others affected by the horrible act and put them into a play. Today volunteers will put on two performances. I attended the afternoon performance and a few hours from now more people will attend the evening performance. It was definitely a powerful project and I believe more communities should do the same thing. Earlier this year while they were putting the production together, my therapist asked me to share my story for the project. I could write, I could speak, I could let share my story, I could answer the questionnaire, I could share in whatever way I wanted. So, I did and I gave it to my therapist to give to the person in charge of the play and a few weeks later I was informed that they had selected to perform my piece the way I wanted it performed...hmmm...
Listening to my words come alive in front of me made my whole stomach turn to knots. Listening to words that live in me daily make their way out for the world to hear made me want to run and hide. These words, so personal, so incredibly my own were being shared for all the people there to hear. To make it worse, there was someone recording the performance and my words were being caught on tape forever. These were MY words. Why was someone else speaking them? sharing them? letting them out? My whole body was so tight and the pain coming from the inside was about to tear through my carefully masked face. These words were my constant, personal hell. These words were being taken from me...no, worse...I gave these words away.
I have shared my story many times. My words, my voice. I've shared facts. I can stand up and share the facts of my childhood: broken home, alcoholic/druggie father, depressed mother, angry/abusive brother, lots of bullies, sexually abusive stepfather, depression, self-harm, eating disorders, suicide...FACTS. Nothing can change these facts. I see them for what they are and I can share them with anyone who asks. I will answer any question and I will do it in a matter-of-fact way. I like to think of myself as an open book but I'm never the one to open it.
Today it was different. It was my story in a whole new way. The voice I lost all those years again was finding its way back to me. I listened to these women speak my thoughts, my questions, my wonderings, my feelings, my absolutely unguarded, atrociously disgusting, and all consuming words. The ones that tumble around in my head. The ones that come up from my gut and try to wiggle out but can never seem to make it to my lips. These are the words that were being spoken today. The ones I never share with anyone, not even my therapist of 7 years. It didn't last more then 5 minutes, if that, and yet it seemed like forever while I sat there hearing them speak my words.
The words being spoken today were about my response to the facts and the response of the ones I loved. Today a piece of my was given a voice that I haven't heard with my ears in over 15 years. My mind's ear is tormented daily with these words but they stay inside and never find a way out. They are MINE. If I shared them with someone, how would they respond? They couldn't handle the unbearableness of these words. Heck, they can barely handle the facts. I have no idea how to give my words a voice again. I do not know if I'll ever speak what haunts my days and nights. Because the facts are only part of story.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
A Week of Story Sharing
Wow, what an incredible week it has been already. Some of you may know that I've spent the last few nights sharing my story with a friend's developmental psych classes. I was nervous at first because my story is not for the lighthearted. I even attempted to write out note cards - note to self: you can't share your life on note cards. I am in awe of how well this week has gone.
During the three nights my story was pretty much the same (not like it could change). I started from birth (thankful I only have 25 years to share) and told stories of what my life was like. From an alcoholic, druggie father to the anger-filled, violent brother I lived with. I shared stories of my experiences with being the victim of intense bullying and sexual abuse. I described my struggle with eating disorders, self-harm and suicide. I shared my desire for something better and how my family responded to the sexual abuse confession and how I spent my 18th year homeless. Then, I shared with the class about my desire to get help and about how Mercy Ministries helped me get my life back and how I learned to have hope for what my life could be like. I shared with them the incredible greatness of my God and how He looked out for me during all those years because without Him, I wouldn't have a story to share. And I explained that I still struggle with life, with eating, with self-harm, with memories and abandonment of my family, but that it is so much better now than it was. And that I now have a desire to continue with my life and find out what comes next! Then, I opened it up to questions and after questions I told them I'd be up front if anyone wanted to talk or wanted to request a Mercy For book.
The first night, I had a few young women come up to me and confess that they too struggle with self-harm and sexual abuse. I gave away what books I had and took names of those who wanted some so that I could get the books and send them back with my friend the instructor. I had a lady who was just in awe when I shared that my abuser was a minister who came up and thanked me for sharing my story. She gave me the number to her church's prayer line and we exchanged info. What really touched me was a girl my age who came up to share her story with me. She showed me the scars on her arms, which she keeps hidden from the world, and basically begged to be listened to. We talked for quite a while but had to leave the room eventually. I gave her the books she wanted, we exchanged information and we parted. I will forever keep her in my heart and prayers and I really hope she continues to reach out to me for friendship and encouragement. If not, I pray that she remembers the strength she has had so far and that she learns just how precious she is.
The next night it was a small class again. I had a few people thank me for coming and sharing my story with them. Afterwards, I exchanged info with a few people, letting them know that I'm totally open if they'd like to talk with me for any reason or if they have any questions. Then I had one lady who's daughter has a friend who is in a bad place. I gave her the book I had and told her to give it to the woman. If she wants help, we can help her but until then she will continue to stay in that unhealthy relationship. I will keep this woman and those around her in my prayers for safety and courage to step away from the relationship.
Tonight, the last night, was in front of a big class. This time I had a gentleman come up and thank me for sharing my story. Then he encouraged me to keep moving on and growing. This was wonderful because he was very sincere and I knew that he cared about the women in his life. I also had a woman come up and thank me for sharing. She said that she knew how hard it was and disclosed to me that she had been raped recently. She didn't want to talk much and I asked her if she was receiving help and if she needed anything. She said she was getting help and walked away. This woman, I will carry in my heart forever for she deserves to know that she too is strong and courageous and will one day share her story.
One of the highlights of this week was that a person in the class knew me from before my time at Mercy. She came up to me and gave me a huge hug and told me how she remembered me from before and how well I hid everything that I was going through. She remembers when I disappeared (because I told NO ONE that I was leaving for Mercy, I figured people didn't care about me at all at that point) and she remembers when I came back - completely different. She encouraged me to keep going and said she was proud of me. She also confirmed that if I was to ever be ready to confront my abuser or my family that I would have many supporters on my side and they'd keep me safe.
I was encouraged by each class during the Q & A part of the night because I was surprised by how many questions they had. I told them that if they wanted to know something all they had to do was ask and I'd answer as honestly as possible and they took me up on that. A lot of the questions were similar from class to class but it just amazed me that people really were interested in my story - like it really hit home with them and they genuinely wanted to know more about my life and about how I'm doing now and what's going on now.
I think besides the few people that came and talked with me one of the big things I'll take away from this past week is that I am called to share my story. I tend to be very composed when sharing such intimate details of my life in front of groups of people. And people are very receptive of the words I speak which I swear come from God. I'm so anxious before and then I start speaking and the realness of my life just comes out and people are paying attention and taking in the fact that my life was pretty crazy but now it's sooo different and I'm sooo different. I am more encouraged to write my story out in book form now and just share with anyone who wants to hear.
I'll probably even continuing to speaking at her classes and my counselor said a teacher she knows at another college is always looking for speakers, so I'll probably speak for her classes too. I'm an open book, all ya gotta do is ask.
During the three nights my story was pretty much the same (not like it could change). I started from birth (thankful I only have 25 years to share) and told stories of what my life was like. From an alcoholic, druggie father to the anger-filled, violent brother I lived with. I shared stories of my experiences with being the victim of intense bullying and sexual abuse. I described my struggle with eating disorders, self-harm and suicide. I shared my desire for something better and how my family responded to the sexual abuse confession and how I spent my 18th year homeless. Then, I shared with the class about my desire to get help and about how Mercy Ministries helped me get my life back and how I learned to have hope for what my life could be like. I shared with them the incredible greatness of my God and how He looked out for me during all those years because without Him, I wouldn't have a story to share. And I explained that I still struggle with life, with eating, with self-harm, with memories and abandonment of my family, but that it is so much better now than it was. And that I now have a desire to continue with my life and find out what comes next! Then, I opened it up to questions and after questions I told them I'd be up front if anyone wanted to talk or wanted to request a Mercy For book.
The first night, I had a few young women come up to me and confess that they too struggle with self-harm and sexual abuse. I gave away what books I had and took names of those who wanted some so that I could get the books and send them back with my friend the instructor. I had a lady who was just in awe when I shared that my abuser was a minister who came up and thanked me for sharing my story. She gave me the number to her church's prayer line and we exchanged info. What really touched me was a girl my age who came up to share her story with me. She showed me the scars on her arms, which she keeps hidden from the world, and basically begged to be listened to. We talked for quite a while but had to leave the room eventually. I gave her the books she wanted, we exchanged information and we parted. I will forever keep her in my heart and prayers and I really hope she continues to reach out to me for friendship and encouragement. If not, I pray that she remembers the strength she has had so far and that she learns just how precious she is.
The next night it was a small class again. I had a few people thank me for coming and sharing my story with them. Afterwards, I exchanged info with a few people, letting them know that I'm totally open if they'd like to talk with me for any reason or if they have any questions. Then I had one lady who's daughter has a friend who is in a bad place. I gave her the book I had and told her to give it to the woman. If she wants help, we can help her but until then she will continue to stay in that unhealthy relationship. I will keep this woman and those around her in my prayers for safety and courage to step away from the relationship.
Tonight, the last night, was in front of a big class. This time I had a gentleman come up and thank me for sharing my story. Then he encouraged me to keep moving on and growing. This was wonderful because he was very sincere and I knew that he cared about the women in his life. I also had a woman come up and thank me for sharing. She said that she knew how hard it was and disclosed to me that she had been raped recently. She didn't want to talk much and I asked her if she was receiving help and if she needed anything. She said she was getting help and walked away. This woman, I will carry in my heart forever for she deserves to know that she too is strong and courageous and will one day share her story.
One of the highlights of this week was that a person in the class knew me from before my time at Mercy. She came up to me and gave me a huge hug and told me how she remembered me from before and how well I hid everything that I was going through. She remembers when I disappeared (because I told NO ONE that I was leaving for Mercy, I figured people didn't care about me at all at that point) and she remembers when I came back - completely different. She encouraged me to keep going and said she was proud of me. She also confirmed that if I was to ever be ready to confront my abuser or my family that I would have many supporters on my side and they'd keep me safe.
I was encouraged by each class during the Q & A part of the night because I was surprised by how many questions they had. I told them that if they wanted to know something all they had to do was ask and I'd answer as honestly as possible and they took me up on that. A lot of the questions were similar from class to class but it just amazed me that people really were interested in my story - like it really hit home with them and they genuinely wanted to know more about my life and about how I'm doing now and what's going on now.
I think besides the few people that came and talked with me one of the big things I'll take away from this past week is that I am called to share my story. I tend to be very composed when sharing such intimate details of my life in front of groups of people. And people are very receptive of the words I speak which I swear come from God. I'm so anxious before and then I start speaking and the realness of my life just comes out and people are paying attention and taking in the fact that my life was pretty crazy but now it's sooo different and I'm sooo different. I am more encouraged to write my story out in book form now and just share with anyone who wants to hear.
I'll probably even continuing to speaking at her classes and my counselor said a teacher she knows at another college is always looking for speakers, so I'll probably speak for her classes too. I'm an open book, all ya gotta do is ask.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
I wonder who's my god
I wonder who's in control of my life. Have I really and truly allowed God to be center in my day to day living? Is He the one I'm trying to please in my big and small decisions? Or am I simply attempting to control my own destiny without a care in the world?
I am active in my home church. I volunteer in different areas, I babysit some of the children, I attend the retreats and I believe that Jesus died for my sins and that He resurrected from the dead to set me free from captivity and to reconcile me with the Father.
Yet some days I feel like I live a double life.
Eating disorders have been apart of my life for a very long time. If it's not overeating and overindulging its restricting and purging. My life has been a constant cycle through what I should and shouldn't do with food. I have gotten a lot of therapy for a lot of things but its like ED is always off limits. I rarely talk about it with anyone else, my therapist knows its a topic that we do NOT talk about and I can't stand to be around people who talk about weight and food ALL THE TIME!!!!
Today the topic in church was comparing God's Kingdom with the earthly kingdom in which we all reside. My pastor made a very good point that brought me to tears (which is hard to do when I'm working the media booth for the service because I don't always absorb everything). Have I made my stomach my god? Have I let the lies of the enemy control my life? Are the decisions of what I put into my body coming from God or from the world?
Obviously tears only come when the point being talked about is meant just for you in that moment. I have another blog that I keep, a secret diary that I started back in my darkest hours, this is the community I return to when I'm living my secret life, when I'm drinking only water and purging in public bathrooms or into a plastic bag in my car. This is the online community that encourages ED to control my life and the place that I release all the words I can't say aloud and I can't let people in my life to know. This secret online journal brings me to wonder about my double life and who's really running the show.
I wonder what would happen if I attempted to let God control the uncontrollable part of my life. I wonder about all the very real things that will be stirred up and force themselves to be felt and dealt with by releasing control and asking God to help me. I fear that I won't be able to handle it and that there is no one that really understands this world I live in.
Yet here I am, writing this all out and confessing that I the world controls this part of my life and I'm terrified of the emotions that will come with letting God take control of it. But here I sit, in His presence, with all my fear and all my doubts wondering if I'll ever break free from the chains of ED.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
A Letter to The Family & Friends of Whitney Houston
To the family and friends of Whitney Houston:
First, I am deeply saddened by your loss. Losing someone you love unexpectedly at such a young age is never an easy thing to work through. You are all in my prayers and I believe that your beloved Whitney is in heaven singing her heart out.
I was inspired to write this letter to you as I was at work and overhead a few coworkers expressing how upset they were that Whitney’s death was getting so much attention. Personally, I would think you’d like to be able to mourn your beloved friend and mother privately but the cameras, the questions, the interest of so many fans, they just won’t go away. I cannot imagine what this must be like for you; after all, you are still waiting on results to know exactly what happened to Whitney.
On behalf of the human population I would like to extend a sincere apology for the judgments being passed on her. Yes, Whitney experienced addiction, pain, sadness and betrayal during her years with us, however it is not our place to express our personal biases so obscenely in the wake of such tragedy in your lives. Whitney is not the first person to have faced a hard road. We often lose sight of the raw brokenness of our fellow humans because we see them on television, in magazines, in concert or on the movie screen. We forget that those with the “celebrity” title are just like the rest of us and their journeys are just as individual as anyone else’s. No one would like to see their loved one trash talked after such tragedy has occurred in their lives.
Whitney will forever be remembered by the general public for her amazing vocals and the songs she blessed them with. For you, she will be remembered for her laugh, for her jokes, for her hugs, for her smile, for her place in your lives and hearts. You are blessed to remember a woman that many of us do not know and for that you must be grateful.
Please know that you are all in my prayers and that I and many others, some I know and some I don’t, are standing up for your right to mourn your loved one without people bringing up all the struggles she had and not letting her memory be a pleasant one. I hope that you are able to find peace in the midst of chaos as you remember the wonderful things about your friend.
Whole-heartedly,
A Girl from the Michigan
First, I am deeply saddened by your loss. Losing someone you love unexpectedly at such a young age is never an easy thing to work through. You are all in my prayers and I believe that your beloved Whitney is in heaven singing her heart out.
I was inspired to write this letter to you as I was at work and overhead a few coworkers expressing how upset they were that Whitney’s death was getting so much attention. Personally, I would think you’d like to be able to mourn your beloved friend and mother privately but the cameras, the questions, the interest of so many fans, they just won’t go away. I cannot imagine what this must be like for you; after all, you are still waiting on results to know exactly what happened to Whitney.
On behalf of the human population I would like to extend a sincere apology for the judgments being passed on her. Yes, Whitney experienced addiction, pain, sadness and betrayal during her years with us, however it is not our place to express our personal biases so obscenely in the wake of such tragedy in your lives. Whitney is not the first person to have faced a hard road. We often lose sight of the raw brokenness of our fellow humans because we see them on television, in magazines, in concert or on the movie screen. We forget that those with the “celebrity” title are just like the rest of us and their journeys are just as individual as anyone else’s. No one would like to see their loved one trash talked after such tragedy has occurred in their lives.
Whitney will forever be remembered by the general public for her amazing vocals and the songs she blessed them with. For you, she will be remembered for her laugh, for her jokes, for her hugs, for her smile, for her place in your lives and hearts. You are blessed to remember a woman that many of us do not know and for that you must be grateful.
Please know that you are all in my prayers and that I and many others, some I know and some I don’t, are standing up for your right to mourn your loved one without people bringing up all the struggles she had and not letting her memory be a pleasant one. I hope that you are able to find peace in the midst of chaos as you remember the wonderful things about your friend.
Whole-heartedly,
A Girl from the Michigan
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Do You Remember?
There's been a lot going on in my world lately. Many things have popped up that I was not expecting. Some from the enemy of my soul as he puts into motion his twisted schemes to steal my joy and knock me off of the path God has so wonderfully laid before me. And some from the perfect timing of God's plans for my life.
Sometimes, it takes me awhile to get back on track after satan comes to steal and destroy me soul. This week has been extremely difficult to keep my head afloat and stay on the straight, narrow path. At church on Sunday morning, I had a horrible time allowing myself to worship and receive. Every time I attempted to let my wall down and let the Holy Spirit in the deep, dark, twisted, hole in my soul began to ache and make its presence known. I had to put my guard back up to stop it from overpowering me and drowning me in a pit of despair, pain and twisted lies.
Towards the end of the church service they opened the baptismal pool. No one was signed up to be baptized in second service and yet 2 young kids ran to the pool and asked to be baptized. They knew what they were doing and were excited to ask God into their hearts.
While these young children were making the best decision of their lives God whispered to my aching soul, "Beloved, do you remember?"
Remember? Of course I remember! That very first time I ever asked God to be my Lord and Savior. The first time I got dunked and became a new creation! That night that I decided I didn't want to live my life without my Father in Heaven! Of course I remember!
I was 8 years old. We only went to church now and then. I'd been to Catholic mass, Mormon services and the non-denomational services. I didn't know which was was right, but I knew that God was very real and that I needed Him in my life. So, I got baptized at the church we attended.
I believe it was this act of faith that has kept my connection with God so strong. Throughout the hell on earth that I lived through, my desire for God only grew stronger. I believe that accepting Christ into my heart at the tender age of 8 is what kept me fighting to be free from all the bondage I was in.
I couldn't help but be overjoyed at the fact that these children were giving their lives to Christ and opening their hearts to Him. I pray one day they will see how their decision as a child has kept them from fatal fates and called them to return to Him every time they have strayed.
I remember the day I was baptized as a child. I remember being in the baptismal pool with the pastor, declaring my belief in Jesus and my love for God. I remember being full of joy and happiness the moment I came up out of the water. I remember knowing that I had made the right decision. I remember being different from family even back then. I remember the night I gave my heart to God despite all the junk I was living around.
For some crazy reason that only God knows, I desired to know Him from a very young age. At no urging of anyone else, I asked to be baptized and have since lived a life wanting to be ever closer to Him.
I also believe that my desire for Christ at that young age made me a high priority for satan and his deamons. Satan had to crush that little spirit inside of me and he tried to kill my soul. But my God was faithful throughout all of the stuff satan started to throw at me. And today, I am able to sense the enemy's attacks and I am on my guard with the full armor of God, ready to keep pressing on for God, ever transforming into their person He has designed me to become!
I know that those two children from Sunday morning will face a lot of challenges in their lives but they will always know that God is with them and they will always return to the simple truth that He loves them and they love Him.
Sometimes, it takes me awhile to get back on track after satan comes to steal and destroy me soul. This week has been extremely difficult to keep my head afloat and stay on the straight, narrow path. At church on Sunday morning, I had a horrible time allowing myself to worship and receive. Every time I attempted to let my wall down and let the Holy Spirit in the deep, dark, twisted, hole in my soul began to ache and make its presence known. I had to put my guard back up to stop it from overpowering me and drowning me in a pit of despair, pain and twisted lies.
Towards the end of the church service they opened the baptismal pool. No one was signed up to be baptized in second service and yet 2 young kids ran to the pool and asked to be baptized. They knew what they were doing and were excited to ask God into their hearts.
While these young children were making the best decision of their lives God whispered to my aching soul, "Beloved, do you remember?"
Remember? Of course I remember! That very first time I ever asked God to be my Lord and Savior. The first time I got dunked and became a new creation! That night that I decided I didn't want to live my life without my Father in Heaven! Of course I remember!
I was 8 years old. We only went to church now and then. I'd been to Catholic mass, Mormon services and the non-denomational services. I didn't know which was was right, but I knew that God was very real and that I needed Him in my life. So, I got baptized at the church we attended.
I believe it was this act of faith that has kept my connection with God so strong. Throughout the hell on earth that I lived through, my desire for God only grew stronger. I believe that accepting Christ into my heart at the tender age of 8 is what kept me fighting to be free from all the bondage I was in.
I couldn't help but be overjoyed at the fact that these children were giving their lives to Christ and opening their hearts to Him. I pray one day they will see how their decision as a child has kept them from fatal fates and called them to return to Him every time they have strayed.
I remember the day I was baptized as a child. I remember being in the baptismal pool with the pastor, declaring my belief in Jesus and my love for God. I remember being full of joy and happiness the moment I came up out of the water. I remember knowing that I had made the right decision. I remember being different from family even back then. I remember the night I gave my heart to God despite all the junk I was living around.
For some crazy reason that only God knows, I desired to know Him from a very young age. At no urging of anyone else, I asked to be baptized and have since lived a life wanting to be ever closer to Him.
I also believe that my desire for Christ at that young age made me a high priority for satan and his deamons. Satan had to crush that little spirit inside of me and he tried to kill my soul. But my God was faithful throughout all of the stuff satan started to throw at me. And today, I am able to sense the enemy's attacks and I am on my guard with the full armor of God, ready to keep pressing on for God, ever transforming into their person He has designed me to become!
I know that those two children from Sunday morning will face a lot of challenges in their lives but they will always know that God is with them and they will always return to the simple truth that He loves them and they love Him.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
The Quarter of a Century Mark!
Well, today I officially begin my 25th year of life! Already my facebook page has over 40 birthday wishes from different friends, I've gotten text messages and phone calls, was taken to lunch by my boss and have a fun dinner planned with a group of friends at a restaurant that gives the birthday guest a free steak dinner! Today has been a wonderful day so far! And Saturday I'm getting together with another group of friends to have dinner, play games, watch movies, and have our own little wine tasting event!
This year is going to be a great year. I've got vision for my future. I know what my next step is. I feel completely in step with God's plan for me in this moment.
People may wonder why I get so excited about my birthday. For some people its about the attention (and I'm not saying I don't like a day that's all about ME) but that's not the reason I tell everyone that will listen that its my birthday.
You see, not too long ago I had plans to never pass the age of 21. I had already attempted suicide many times and I hated every day that I had to endure on this planet. And of course my abuser's birthday is the day before mine so my family always celebrates his and mine was always with his. He took everything I was and pushed me aside. I hated my birthday and didn't want to see any more of them!
At the age of 20 at the loving nudge of a dear friend I researched Mercy Ministries a little further. And I started the application process though I hadn't really done anything with it. Then, when I was sitting alone on Christmas Day in a dark room cutting myself I realized I had to do something.
I felt that my only options were 1) to kill myself, really kill myself this time or 2) give God a chance and go to Mercy. I made a deal with God in my desperation for something to get better. I told Him that I would make one last attempt at getting better and if it didn't work then He'd have to let me die! So, I finished the Mercy application process, got an entry date a few months later and began the journey.
I spent 7 months of my 21st year at Mercy. And boy did God meet me in BIG ways. From the moment I walked through the doors, God was at work. He took all the weeds that had taken over my soul and threw them away. He planted rose bushes and orchids and made a beautiful garden. I got to experience Thanksgiving and Christmas at Mercy and realized that the holidays could be good. And my last night at moments at Mercy were knit together perfectly by the only Father who knew what I needed. I graduated the program and came back home and have been truly living life ever since.
You see these past 4 years since have been a gift from God. My every day is a gift because for so long the plan was that I would never see these days. And here I am a quarter of a century old and excited for the next quarter of a century and all that God will bring! I try and live my life to the fullest and every year I am so glad to have a birthday again!
My birthday is no longer linked to the evildoer in my life. Instead, it is linked to the life giver and ultimate Restorer of my soul. I am blessed to be surrounded by so many people who love me with a whole and non-twisted love. Today I turn 25 years old and loving life!
This year is going to be a great year. I've got vision for my future. I know what my next step is. I feel completely in step with God's plan for me in this moment.
People may wonder why I get so excited about my birthday. For some people its about the attention (and I'm not saying I don't like a day that's all about ME) but that's not the reason I tell everyone that will listen that its my birthday.
You see, not too long ago I had plans to never pass the age of 21. I had already attempted suicide many times and I hated every day that I had to endure on this planet. And of course my abuser's birthday is the day before mine so my family always celebrates his and mine was always with his. He took everything I was and pushed me aside. I hated my birthday and didn't want to see any more of them!
At the age of 20 at the loving nudge of a dear friend I researched Mercy Ministries a little further. And I started the application process though I hadn't really done anything with it. Then, when I was sitting alone on Christmas Day in a dark room cutting myself I realized I had to do something.
I felt that my only options were 1) to kill myself, really kill myself this time or 2) give God a chance and go to Mercy. I made a deal with God in my desperation for something to get better. I told Him that I would make one last attempt at getting better and if it didn't work then He'd have to let me die! So, I finished the Mercy application process, got an entry date a few months later and began the journey.
I spent 7 months of my 21st year at Mercy. And boy did God meet me in BIG ways. From the moment I walked through the doors, God was at work. He took all the weeds that had taken over my soul and threw them away. He planted rose bushes and orchids and made a beautiful garden. I got to experience Thanksgiving and Christmas at Mercy and realized that the holidays could be good. And my last night at moments at Mercy were knit together perfectly by the only Father who knew what I needed. I graduated the program and came back home and have been truly living life ever since.
You see these past 4 years since have been a gift from God. My every day is a gift because for so long the plan was that I would never see these days. And here I am a quarter of a century old and excited for the next quarter of a century and all that God will bring! I try and live my life to the fullest and every year I am so glad to have a birthday again!
My birthday is no longer linked to the evildoer in my life. Instead, it is linked to the life giver and ultimate Restorer of my soul. I am blessed to be surrounded by so many people who love me with a whole and non-twisted love. Today I turn 25 years old and loving life!
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Over A Year Later
God works in mysterious ways. His ways are not my ways. But maybe just maybe what happened today will help push forward the fight for justice and help make a man face his past...
In November 2010 I sent an email via the state's attorney website asking for information about prosecuting and pressing charges. I never heard back from them and therefore forgot about this inquiry. I went on to decide that reporting the abuse was the 1st step and with the loving support from my pastors who accompanied me to the police stations, reports were made in January 2011.
My year went on. I went about my life and continued in therapy. I worked and volunteered. I have hung out with friends, lost friends and found friends. More babies have entered my life that I get the unbelievable privledge to be "aunt" to. I survived the holidays and my birthday is in 2 days.
Today, I received an email response from the chief at the state's attorney office to that initial inquiry. Perhaps this will be the way God helps me understand what's happening with my case. Maybe He sent me this woman so that things can move forward. Maybe she'll want to help me, really help me.
I want my stepfather to have to face what he did. I want him to understand the damage he caused and I want my family to understand that he is not a safe person for my niece and nephews and cousins to be around. The more research I did, the more I realized that he committed a felony, a crime, against me and he shouldn't just get to live a happy life now. I want him to face his actions and I want him to ask God for forgiveness. I want him to ask me for forgiveness. I want my family to see, really see. And I want my family safe and free from the bondage he has them in.
Maybe this is the way God will defend me. Maybe He will use this woman for something in my life. Or maybe its His way of reminding me that He hasn't forgotten, that He understands and that He is in charge.
Whatever it is...this email lets me know I'm not alone anymore. Someone heard my cry. Maybe they'll do something about it. Praying God's will be done, not mine!
In November 2010 I sent an email via the state's attorney website asking for information about prosecuting and pressing charges. I never heard back from them and therefore forgot about this inquiry. I went on to decide that reporting the abuse was the 1st step and with the loving support from my pastors who accompanied me to the police stations, reports were made in January 2011.
My year went on. I went about my life and continued in therapy. I worked and volunteered. I have hung out with friends, lost friends and found friends. More babies have entered my life that I get the unbelievable privledge to be "aunt" to. I survived the holidays and my birthday is in 2 days.
Today, I received an email response from the chief at the state's attorney office to that initial inquiry. Perhaps this will be the way God helps me understand what's happening with my case. Maybe He sent me this woman so that things can move forward. Maybe she'll want to help me, really help me.
I want my stepfather to have to face what he did. I want him to understand the damage he caused and I want my family to understand that he is not a safe person for my niece and nephews and cousins to be around. The more research I did, the more I realized that he committed a felony, a crime, against me and he shouldn't just get to live a happy life now. I want him to face his actions and I want him to ask God for forgiveness. I want him to ask me for forgiveness. I want my family to see, really see. And I want my family safe and free from the bondage he has them in.
Maybe this is the way God will defend me. Maybe He will use this woman for something in my life. Or maybe its His way of reminding me that He hasn't forgotten, that He understands and that He is in charge.
Whatever it is...this email lets me know I'm not alone anymore. Someone heard my cry. Maybe they'll do something about it. Praying God's will be done, not mine!
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Some Rambling....
A friend of mine asked me if I knew of anyone who has survived domestic violence or sexual abuse. She is looking for a speaker for her classes (she teaches for the local community college). We've have talked before about this subject and so I went ahead and offered my services, though I doubt I'll be a good speaker - I'm much more comfortable with the written expression of my story. Anyway, I told her that if for some reason I am unable to bring myself to speak to her classes then a good movie to show is Bastard Out of Carolina.
The truth is that this movie is a very powerful portrayal of a life that keeps knocking people around. I believe this is a tool that can help someone understand the crazy hectic circumstances that abuse, poverty, hurt, loss and life can bring. Of course, I came home and found it on YouTube and started watching - bad idea!
First off, this is a movie I watched with my mother when I was 13 or 14 and in the midst of experiencing the all too secretive world of sexual abuse. Towards the end of the film, the mother chooses her husband after catching him raping her daughter. My mother's words were, "I can't believe a mother would choose the man over her own child." Thus starting my daily fight with myself regarding speaking out because I assumed my mother would believe me and choose me...
Well, I was wrong. After I turned 18, the truth was revealed through a hospital social worker/therapist - who I am very grateful for today. My mother was quick to turn to her husband, believe his lies and decide that I was sick, looking for attention and lying. This moment in my life set in motion the next few years of wanting nothing else but to die and relieve this planet of my derrangement.
Okay, so at the end of the movie the mother comes back to the daughter and explains how much she loves her husband and how she just can't leave him. She then explains to her daughter how much she loves her.
This makes no sense to me. My own mother would tell me she loved me. I understand holding your baby girl in your arms, making promises to her, loving her with all your heart and wanting only to give her a life you never had. A mother loves her brand new baby girl.
Then life tosses you around, throws hardships at you and expects you to keep you stay standing. So, you find a man to keep your head above the water. Barely breathing, you give your heart to him and let him become your only reason for living.
The man then begins to break your baby girl. He tells her how much he loves her and how much he loves you. He begins to get close to your daughter and you think its great. Then one day, he invites her onto his lap, into his bed or on a drive. Things happen and because he loves her and you, she can't tell you what happened. Her voice is taken from her. Her heart is smashed into a million pieces that she'll never be able to put back together. And you love him.
Finally the truth comes out but your connection with your daughter has been lost. You took it away from her and gave it to your husband. Then, he squashed the little bit that was left of her. Your life affected her in ways you didn't see and now for some reason you love the man more than the promises you made to your sweet, baby girl in the hospital room.
Then you have the horrible idea to tell your daughter you love her. She'll never believe you again. You've broken that bond. She was hoping to find comfort in you and all she found was the empty hospital room with you no where to be found.
You decieve yourself into thinking you have a great life. You think about your baby girl often. You tell yourself you love her and that she'll never know how much. The truth is that you're too broken to stand up for yourself, for you daughter. You're angry with her because he loved her. You're angry because she was stronger than you and fought for her freedom. You'll never again hold your baby girl in your arms and all she'll ever want for the rest of her life is for you to hold her.
The problem is that you broke her hope. You were supposed to be strong for her and instead she had to be strong for you. No one can explain why you chose your daughter's abuser. No one can help her understand why you abandoned her and why he did the things he did. She will forever be without you because even the thought of you, or watching a movie that reminds her of you, will drive her crazy.
Don't you see? She can't believe you ever loved her, no matter how many times you say it, because you left her so that you could love the person who destroyed her. You keep fooling yourself, that somehow she left you. She doesn't want to be around her very real monster and yet you share a bed with him. Your baby girl did nothing to deserve what he did or how you responded to his actions.
You get it yet? You can't love her, not really.
The truth is that this movie is a very powerful portrayal of a life that keeps knocking people around. I believe this is a tool that can help someone understand the crazy hectic circumstances that abuse, poverty, hurt, loss and life can bring. Of course, I came home and found it on YouTube and started watching - bad idea!
First off, this is a movie I watched with my mother when I was 13 or 14 and in the midst of experiencing the all too secretive world of sexual abuse. Towards the end of the film, the mother chooses her husband after catching him raping her daughter. My mother's words were, "I can't believe a mother would choose the man over her own child." Thus starting my daily fight with myself regarding speaking out because I assumed my mother would believe me and choose me...
Well, I was wrong. After I turned 18, the truth was revealed through a hospital social worker/therapist - who I am very grateful for today. My mother was quick to turn to her husband, believe his lies and decide that I was sick, looking for attention and lying. This moment in my life set in motion the next few years of wanting nothing else but to die and relieve this planet of my derrangement.
Okay, so at the end of the movie the mother comes back to the daughter and explains how much she loves her husband and how she just can't leave him. She then explains to her daughter how much she loves her.
This makes no sense to me. My own mother would tell me she loved me. I understand holding your baby girl in your arms, making promises to her, loving her with all your heart and wanting only to give her a life you never had. A mother loves her brand new baby girl.
Then life tosses you around, throws hardships at you and expects you to keep you stay standing. So, you find a man to keep your head above the water. Barely breathing, you give your heart to him and let him become your only reason for living.
The man then begins to break your baby girl. He tells her how much he loves her and how much he loves you. He begins to get close to your daughter and you think its great. Then one day, he invites her onto his lap, into his bed or on a drive. Things happen and because he loves her and you, she can't tell you what happened. Her voice is taken from her. Her heart is smashed into a million pieces that she'll never be able to put back together. And you love him.
Finally the truth comes out but your connection with your daughter has been lost. You took it away from her and gave it to your husband. Then, he squashed the little bit that was left of her. Your life affected her in ways you didn't see and now for some reason you love the man more than the promises you made to your sweet, baby girl in the hospital room.
Then you have the horrible idea to tell your daughter you love her. She'll never believe you again. You've broken that bond. She was hoping to find comfort in you and all she found was the empty hospital room with you no where to be found.
You decieve yourself into thinking you have a great life. You think about your baby girl often. You tell yourself you love her and that she'll never know how much. The truth is that you're too broken to stand up for yourself, for you daughter. You're angry with her because he loved her. You're angry because she was stronger than you and fought for her freedom. You'll never again hold your baby girl in your arms and all she'll ever want for the rest of her life is for you to hold her.
The problem is that you broke her hope. You were supposed to be strong for her and instead she had to be strong for you. No one can explain why you chose your daughter's abuser. No one can help her understand why you abandoned her and why he did the things he did. She will forever be without you because even the thought of you, or watching a movie that reminds her of you, will drive her crazy.
Don't you see? She can't believe you ever loved her, no matter how many times you say it, because you left her so that you could love the person who destroyed her. You keep fooling yourself, that somehow she left you. She doesn't want to be around her very real monster and yet you share a bed with him. Your baby girl did nothing to deserve what he did or how you responded to his actions.
You get it yet? You can't love her, not really.
Monday, January 9, 2012
All Those Attempts on My Life
*Note: For anyone struggling with suicidal thoughts this post may be triggering. Please read with caution. There are resources for you at the bottom of this post.*
Another successful suicide. Another soul finding its only solace in the bittersweet escape of death. Another family at a loss for how to proceed. Another life stolen from the world by the devil himself. Another hurting soul who lost all hope for change.
I'm unsure of what happens to a soul when it committs suicide. Does that person get to go to heaven? Do they have to suffer the realms of hell where their life on earth seems like heaven? Do they wait in some wasteland for open arms that never come? If they believe that Jesus died for their sins, surely they will be given an opportunity to spend eternity with Him. But those who committ suicide don't fully understand the gift that was given for them for the chains of hell have kept them in bondage for so long.
Today my prayer is simple: Thank You for not letting me die.
All those attempts on my life: the ones that where I reached out and made it to the hospital for saving, the ones where God spared my life when I told no one, the ones when I was angry for still being alive, angry at God for not wanting me in heaven and angry with the people who loved me enough to force me to the hospital and the ones that were slow and building every day.
All those attempts on my life: the ones where I saw no other option, the ones where I just wanted to escape the ever present pain of abuse and abandonment, the ones where nothing else helped ease my sense of worthlessness, the ones where I believed only God loved me and I had to just be with Him, the ones where I hated myself, the world and everyone in it and the ones where I just didn't know how to keep on living anymore.
Suicide is a evil trick of the devil. He is masterful at whispering those evil beliefs into your ears for your brain and soul to live on. He is a wicked soul who knows that his ultimate destruction is near and we all know misery loves company.
So many people don't understand suicide. If you've never thought it, fought it, attempted it or succeeded at it then you will never fully understand the weight of it on a person's soul.
I am a lucky soul. I have been rescued from the torment of suicide. It no longer controls my every thought. I no longer imagine different scenarios to take myself out of this world. I have been given a new life and with that comes the ability to discern the evil voice of satan from the good, gentle voice of God. My heart breaks when I learn of another person struggling with suicidal thoughts. My heart crumbles when I learn of a successful suicide, especially one within my own community.
I have a unique position in the world because I have both experienced and overcame the spirit of suicide. I also know that suicide is not a mental disorder but a battle in the spiritual realm, a battle for our souls between good and evil. This means that I know anyone who is willing to let God transform their mind can learn to fight this battle and with that experience the life that God created for them to enjoy. With this position comes the responsibility to interceed on behalf of those losing the battle with suicide and teach those who confide in me the way to fight.
My heart is with the families of the ones who have paid the ultimate price in this war. And my heart is forever uplifting those who are still fighting. I promise that if you put in the hard work of renewing your mind, suicide will lose its stronghold on you and you will be able to thank God for not letting you die.
Today my prayer is simple: Thank You for not letting me die.
~
R.I.P. Seth 1.9.12
~
If you are reading this and struggle at all with suicide please confide in someone you can trust. Your life is too precious to be lost to the devil. If you cannot trust anyone please email me, call the National Suicide Hotline (1-800-273-8255) or use a resource I used to use - email jo@smartians.org - this is a free email resource where you can pour out your soul and within 24 hours someone will reply to your email to let you know that you are not alone.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
That Big Talking Fork in the Road
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| from http://www.brainlesstales.com/ |
Options. Choices. Decisions. Goals. Dreams. Plans.
You go about your days - filling them with friends, facebook, twitter, television, work, volunteering, and the random moments of utter happiness. You think you are on the right path. You've overcome so much along that path - where you didn't really make too many choices except who to go to prom with, what college to attend and and how to attend a party late night while still making it to class in the morning.
Then one day college is over, you've been at your job for a while now and life is pretty much the same every day - where the decision is what movie to see and Chinese or Pizza for dinner? Things are easy going because you manage your budget well and have been blessed to live in America.
Then one, sunshinny day, while you're biggest decision is "Pepsi or Coke" you run into the big, talking fork in the road! It taunts you with endless possibilities. It tells you stories of people who have gone before you. It makes you laugh (and cry) with a pro and con list for each path it lays before you. And it just keeps reminding you that you must choose which way to continue with your life. You gotta decide what path you are gonna take.
And all the sudden - you're a grown up. You've actually come to the fork in the road that determines how your adult life is gonna play out. Which job to take, where to live, when to get married - or not and how to begin your life!!!
How the heck did this BIG fork in the road sneak up on me? How did I become 25 years old and still so uncertain with what I want my life to be by the time I'm 25 years old? And how do I decide which path to take? What do I do from here? How do I choose?
Such is the life of a twentysomething here in America, I suppose. Those young years just fly by and we get taken aback when the very real dilema of adulthood shows up on our front door. We're all born for more and yet we don't even understand what that truely means.
Here goes my 25th year of life - maybe by the end of it I'll have embarked on one of the paths that lay before me and have made decent strides toward who I want to be in this world.
If you find yourself in a similar situation, good luck to you! I'm cheering you on from the mighty blogging world!
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