Enter God's truth to experience His healing!

INTRODUCTION

This book is a result of my own journey of healing from severe childhood abuse. So much of this process involved facing truth – hard truth wrapped in emotions that seemed sometimes to consume me. Feelings that I was not allowed to show or given the opportunity to experience as that child were suddenly mine, and oh how they overwhelmed me. It was only as I stayed in God that I was able to endure – for He was my strength, “And He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9a (King James Version)

I learned that to truly embrace God was not possible without facing how my abuse had shaped me. A willingness to open myself to the vastness of His presence, as it took me deep into truth – His truth. For God’s truth purifies in its extraordinary richness and penetrating honesty. The kind of truth that released me as He made of me what He would.

Things worth having never come cheap- so it is with healing from abuse. Much will be asked of us, or so it will seem in our humanness, our desire to not yield ourselves fully. We will need to choose to stay no matter how hard, to see our trials for the gateway they are to the better things God has in store for us.

Our Lord has lovingly promised that, “All things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28 (King James Version) Set no time limit to your healing outside of what He has planned. For some of us it may go quicker than for others – just remember this truth from our Father’s Word, “I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11 (King James Version)

Stick around and read my blogs as you let the journey begin. It won’t be easy – it won’t be without tears and pain or remembered losses – but it will be gloriously rewarding beyond imagination. You will find joy, peace and hope – finally. You won’t be alone either; God is with you every step of the way.

All is well while you rest in His mighty hands.

In His love,  Tammy

P.S.  Since this is a book in blog form… new readers may wish to start at the bottom of the blog to follow it in order!

THE CIRCLE OF LIFE

A song made famous by a Disney movie. My kids loved this movie, well, so did I really. One where all the animals were cute, the story line pulled at your heart and it had a happy ending.

We watch these shows without much thought beyond the storyline. I would like to ponder this story a bit, the lyrics from it, that is.

Someone said something to me in the last few weeks that really stirred my heart, got my spiritual mind to pondering on it. Two little words that spoke volumes to me, so much so that I have spent time contemplating them with my Father. Asking Him to show me the depth of the truth of them, in relation to me, my abuse, my healing.

Those words were, “God’s joy.” Shared with me in relation to a step forward in my healing, to my heart and emotions catching up to my spiritual knowledge. So much of our healing path is spelled out simply and clearly in the Word of God. We read the truth of the healing power of love and forgiveness. There are so many examples of victory through Jesus Christ in the saints of old. Verses to inspire us to strive forward and cling to hope. The Word of God, His words to us, His love letter that oft sits forgotten. Dust collecting upon its cover that the jewels stay concealed.

“God’s joy.”

Close your eyes with me a moment and ponder these words.  Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—how good God is. Psalm 34:8 The Message (MSG) Wrap your heart around your Lord’s presence as you savor the sheer emotional impact of His name, GOD. Feel the joy of His presence, a joy that floods you with peace and hope, patience even for His timing in your healing for you know that it is “His joy” to heal you, take you forward however needed. He will run with you as the winds of change whip through the memories, leap when obstacles block your path. It is “His joy” to whisper to you in your pain, catching your tears and remembering with you. A holding of you that eases the pain. God not only to walk beside you but limp, crawl and kneel right there.

It is “His joy” to do so, just because He loves us so much.

We claim this in the midst of our trials so unaware of how much He is really giving. When we are ill and cared for it is often without knowing how much someone has been beside us until  we are well. So it is with our Lord, Who is right there, in the midst of our battles. He stays by our side, joyfully… nursing us, joyfully… providing all that is needed for our healing, with sacrificial joy.

Now I come to the song, The Circle of Life. I see “God’s joy” as the circle of my healing. The astounding gift of His presence and sacrifice the beginning of the circle, my past, present and future the other three anchors. Links forged in an unbreakable chain, past yielded that present is redeemed, future freed. All linked to the cross, “For God so loved the world (us) that He GAVE, His one and only Son.”

God gives and gives and gives, it is His joy to do so. Sacrificial love lived out to me. Three years of moving me forward in my healing, crying with me as His heart broke with mine in the remembering. Sitting with me night after night, sleepless, torn and despairing of the flashbacks. Seeking me out no matter where I chose to hide. All with joy.

It is in the living that life is fathomed, in the crucifying of self it’s purpose found. As it is “God’s joy,’ to journey our path with it, I am so glad it is “His joy,” to reveal truth to me. That my circle has many links of people He has placed in my circle of healing but that He is the anchor. The cross the center that all circle around Him, with purpose.

It feels a bit like I can’t quite say what I am feeling today, put truth to paper so to speak. I challenge you to look to the heart of my writing, to sit with God and feel. Rejoice in the past being past, praising Him for His present presence, asking Him to stay by you into the future, where He will reveal all to you in His timing, for it is, “His joy,” to do so.

Be blessed dear survivor…

Your life His circle.                           alabastre_cross

The Circle of Life  By Tim Rice (The Lion King)

From the day we arrive on the planet 
And blinking, step into the sun
There's more to see than can ever be seen 
More to do than can ever be done
There's far too much to take in here 
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high Through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round

It's the Circle of Life And it moves us all
Through despair and hope Through faith and love
Till we find our place On the path unwinding
In the Circle The Circle of Life

LOST-FOUND

DANCE OF THE MAYPOLE

Ever wonder why God made color? Why bother, wouldn’t black and white have worked? He sees beauty in all so what’s with the reds and oranges, the blues and purples, the rainbow? Why does seeing one in the sky bring folks running outdoors, no matter the weather, to catch a glimpse? Little ones with their noses pressed to glass all smiles?

What is it with this color thing?

I don’t presume to know the mind of God. I don’t know His purpose, it is not mine too. I do, however, know His love. Know the feel of it, the depth and breadth and height it reaches. The way it twines in and out of my spirit, feeds my souls existence. Dances within me, twining in and out, winding its way around my past that it weaves a tapestry of purpose and beauty of the strands.

His dance of the Maypole with me.

Ever really considered what a Maypole is? I looked it up the other day when God started whispering this healing to my heart.

** maypole [ˈmeɪˌpəʊl] n. – a tall pole fixed upright in an open space during May-Day celebrations, around which people dance holding streamers attached at its head.

Hmmm.. I do know that I am celebrating my May-Day of late, celebrating in growth and healing my 911 to Abba. My hearts cry, spirit’s yearning and souls need. Honoring the beginning of my healing by yielding more to Him, His ways and purpose, His glory.

I see myself as His Maypole.

I am affixed to the cross, my eyes looking upward that I not lose site of the dance. Our dance one of color. A maypole holds the eye of the dancers as they weave in and out, a pattern known to them as each step and bow serves it’s purpose yet only to those watching in the end, when the dance is done.

Oh the beauty of color. How the patterns existence would disappear if the color were not visible. Black on black or white on white not to stand out at all. Just like my abuse, the black of it told on the white of the paper nothing more than letters. To not allow the color of the healing to bleed into it deny’s the purpose of that same healing.

Deadens the Maypoles beauty, the dances motion nothing more than movement.

I stand at this maypole just now, stand before my Savior anchored to His sacrifice, the red to flow down, the blood to wash over me. How I throw my arms wide and bow in humble gratitude. The healing dance to begin. His hand the beginning, extended to me… as I grasp it, the turning begins, slowly that I not lose my step. The red to mix with the blue of the sky around us. Our dance named for the royalty of my King, purple streams descending. Streams to claim within my grasp, that the whirling quicken, the healing free me more. My eyes are drawn to the ground we dance upon, the blossoming of my heart to burst forth in the life-giving green of my created being. As it flows through me to feed my spirit, to twine with the other colors, our speed to awaken me to warmth. Where from but the heavens, where the brilliance of the Son, in all His shining glorious brilliance  the dance. These yellow strands now combining with the red, green and blue, purple… all that orange burst forth… millions upon millions of colors now awakening.  Awakening my spirit to the beauty of my created being, the color of life and love, of existing as one with my Savior. My heart ever so thankful for the creation of color, for the Lord’s presence and healing that surrounds us in it. The creating of beauty and purpose, the dance of our maypole to matter. For there is a greater good at work here, a purpose beyond my imagination or understanding. One that will be shown in its time as the dance continues. I shall keep my eyes upon my Saviour, follow His steps and leading. I gladly focus on my pole/His cross that I stay anchored.

The colors swirl, exist, that the dance serve it’s purpose.

Look up, do you not see it?

The pattern is emerging, I feel it… no matter what it may be, this I know…

It will be glorious!

It will be His!

It will be completed!

Let the color fall…

As the dance continues…

I, His, “QUEEN OF THE MAY”

* “Now the winter is gone and the summer is come
And the meadows and plantains (plantings) so gay”

 

* From Songs the Whalemen Sang, Huntington
Collected from the journal of Bengal, 1832
@seduction @marriage
filename[ QUEENMAY
TUNE FILE: QUEENMAY

**Collins English Dictionary – Complete and Unabridged © HarperCollins Publishers 1991, 1994, 1998, 2000, 2003

http://campaign.r20.constantcontact.com/render?llr=lelmyxbab&v=001ritck83OfZko5GHUdm4WSrtnYceRf9E649qtoQOxMgYZ6hH-jL7EcR8uueCkv9u-LvfHzcyvXEKtIXeWFMdw0iV2fYMdNwm3U-AcH7Tv0s6E6KVfNfTdKvBwA659N32wAQnT43s-FSI%3D

MOTHER’S DAY

Mother’s Day is right around the corner. Father’s Day to follow a few weeks later.

How I used to dread these holidays. How full of sadness they made me. How very jealous I would become.

Teen  me, who still clung to childish hope and lies believed as I would go out of my way to make the day amazing to both of my parents. To attempt to prove to them that I was the child that was the most devoted, the one who was worthy of notice and appreciation.

Then I became a mother, and so much love welled up within me for my child, that I was sure somewhere in her heart my mother must love me. I made excuses as to why she ignored me and my children, threw myself at her.

A mother’s love, a father’s security, neither ever mine to claim.

Oh the pain when I finally accepted this. Problem was I did so still blinded. Still feeling all guilty, still wishing and praying. Turning from my mother in the realization that she would never want me but not from the yearning.

No, I prolonged the healing by turning to others to fill the gap. Seeking out a mother and father figure. Pretending in my heart that I belonged to anyone who would take me.

I didn’t care if they had pity on  me, as long as they would pretend with me, be my band-aid.

False love was better than none, or so I reasoned.

So I would still be thinking if my Lord hadn’t lovingly shown me otherwise. How ever patient He has been with me. Yes, He has placed folks in my life to fill the gap, His having placed these folks the difference.

You see, on my own it was all about me, selflessly demanded, greedily gobbled up and never satisfying, for the flesh always demands more…

Not the spirit. Oh there is more all right, but a more unto enough. Satisfying because it is a giving love, one that flows from heaven above, steadfast and true. A love that is so strong that it transforms, turns one away from self to others. A cleansing love, purifying as we take Christ in, satisfying as He quenches our thirst.

I am living in this love, amazed at the transformation I am experiencing. For Mother’s day is coming and I am ready. I haven’t given my mother a gift in a very long time. This year I shall, already have, actually. Her gift, a re-gifting of sorts, one that is between my Lord and I.

I re-gift His love.

I pray for her from a heart of true agape love. I pray for my father as well. I pray with the forgiveness that Christ gave upon the cross because it is His power that enables me. I pray with a heavy heart not for me but for them, heavy for the cost their choices will cost them without a Savior.

I pray for their salvation from a forgiving heart…

In the name of the Father, because of the spilt blood for me at Calvary, through the transforming power of His Spirit.

I pray in agape love.

For who am I but also a sinner saved by grace.

Happy Mother’s Day, mama. Happy Father’s Day, papa.

Know that I forgive you

Know that I love you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yesterday was hard.

Hard of the flesh to the point that I could have given up.

I felt sawed in half. Like Satan was the magician who knew just how to do so. Seemed I was lying there looking at the other part of me, asking God, “How do I put myself back together?”

A fractured me walking upon the broken glass of my feelings, bleeding out tears as the shards traveled straight to my heart. I once again the little girl of my childhood who desired to claim my corner. To feel the security that I found there in my abuse.

Yesterday was harder.

Harder than it has been of late yes, but not the end of the world it felt like. Hard enough to cause pain, yes. Sharp enough to chop away at my progress.

Yesterday was hardest…

only to the point of God’s allowing. Only as hard as needed that I grow. Satan no magician, no power cleave me in half as of old. He but God’s tool.

Yesterday was easy.

Easy in the spirit, that the flesh not win. The spirit to show me the Woman of God I am. My tears to wash the wounds, the salt to cleanse. No corner needed in false security.

Yesterday was easier.

To see through the eyes of God. To face as I rested in His arms, strengthened, that I might stand. Face my trials and tests, strong and sure of the power I have. Hold my shield high and wield my sword. I the one doing the cleaving. No act of magic, one of truth.

Yesterday was easiest.

For yesterday was nothing more than my God intended. Less than His power. Small compared to the growth flowering within.

Yesterday is not today. Past is not present. I am not that child, I am His child. Grown, growing…

Good, better, best…

Never let it rest…

Till the good is better…

The better best.

I am thankful to God for yesterday in all it’s hardness.

For moving me from Good to Better…

His Best yet to come.

“Consider it a sheer gift, friends, when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don’t try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way.” James 1:2-4 (MSG)

RIGHT AS RAIN

“Only a couple of generations ago, most agriculture depended on rain since irrigation was not as prevalent. The life of everyone in a village, town, or city depended on the success of the local crops which in turn depended on spring and summer rains. Rain was essential to survival. No crops equaled famine. No rain meant no crops. “Right as rain” thus means needed, appropriate, essential, or hoped-for. The expression “right as rain,” meaning perfect, well, absolutely right, appears first in 1894″

This saying popped into my head this morning as God and I were chatting about my dream I had. One full of everything possible to ruin my day today at work, if they actually happened.

I told God, “Well, Father, that was an interesting dream I had. Sure am glad it was only a dream. Why did you allow it?”

His reply, “A test, my girl. You are growing so strong, moving along in your journey I have you on, this was just a rock on your path. What shall we do about it?”

How I smiled. “Yes, Papa, just a rock. Not nearly as big awake as it seemed in my sleep. All is “right as rain” with my soul, so what’s a rock! No tripping us up, right Abba!”

Then I thought, “What does right as rain actually mean?”

A quick check on Google and I had my answer. One that definitely fits.

For my Savior is “raining rocks” on my soul in a way. Rocks, trials, testings. He is nourishing me through them, they are His “reign” of growth and understanding, opportunities to strengthen my reliance on Him. To get my spiritual muscle in shape as I scale them, smash them to pieces or kick them aside.

It is so true that rain is needed, yet lots of times it is more than that, flooding to happen. Thing is I am sure for those who truly need it, where drought reigns, they don’t complain about that.

Well, I shan’t either. I embrace my rain, absorb its refreshment, throw my spiritual arms wide in welcome. Smile as it soaks my heart. Thankfully smiling.

Shouting to the heavens, “We are right as rain, Father, use the flooding to wash away all that is needed…

let the soaking begin!”

“My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God” Ps 42:2a (KJV)

“You pour out rain in buckets, O God; thorn and cactus become an oasis for your people to camp in and enjoy.”  Ps 68:9 (MSG)

Source(s):

http://www.islandnet.com/~see/weather/wh…

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