DROWNING

So much assailed me yesterday. So many emotions found me. I was upon the sea of them, floundering unto drowning, lost.

There was no life boat, nothing to cling to that I could see. How could I ground myself if beneath me was simply more tears, if the sadness was drowning me, if the anger stirred up the storm even more and I was all alone in the vastness of it?

I was drowning I was sure. For each time I opened my mouth to call for help it seemed naught but more of the emotions rained down to be swallowed til they were swallowing me.

I wanted to simply let go and sink. To stop fighting and just be done. I didn’t care of the depth was dark and lonely, to let go would end it I was sure. I could journey elsewhere and forget, even if elsewhere required drowning, so be it I thought.

Yet, I couldn’t. Not the real me deep down inside, the part of me that knew  my God was in this storm. To believe He is in control of all my life means the storms as well.

So…

I turned my face to the Heavens as the circumstances of this storms creating pelted me, the lightning flashes of the anger I felt seemed to be striking me as I was tasting the salt of the tears I was drowning in. I let them come. I accepted the anger as mine to sit with. I acknowledged that I had a right to be so, while asking the Lord to cleanse me of it.

Then I realized that the sadness was being fed of the anger. That they were the stirring of this storms wind and buffeting. I though I will drown from within so I must let it all out.

I cried, again and again as my body curled in upon itself and wept with me.

I was adrift and alone.

I was lost and weary.

I wanted to stay this way and wait for a hand to reach for me, for someone to come and see me and be with me, I wanted a person to know.

In my wanting of this I was really doubting God was enough. I was saying I know you  are in my storms, Lord but I need more that just you.

How human of me.

God wasn’t having any of it.

He pursued me, all the while, He does that.

Finally, from the depths of my despair I looked up.

Finally, I cried within, “Save me Abba.”

He scooped me up, pulled me close and sat with me. The storm raged still, but seemed less pelting for He overshadowed the brunt of it. In His embrace I found it was ok to cry. It was safe to feel the sadness and that the anger wasn’t worth the energy it pulled from me.

Now I am beyond this storm, and I am ok.

Alive and still me, weary but safe.

It isn’t the end of the world, the sadness is real but the rainbow is already spreading across the sky. Tomorrow is real and beckons, one that God already has in His hand.

So sadness and anger, all of the emotions of life are safe.

As long as I stay and walk hand in hand with my Master.

 

 

I am…

I do….

I will.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I AM BLESSED

I am weighted down

full of the abuse gone by,

the memories invade me

a stream of visits,

a turnstile of arriving,

never-ceasing

past remembering of that

which sank me lower to lower                            

my bed to carry my frame…

imprinted upon it.

for I was no form

rather a mold.

shaped to serve their sinful choices.

there was no me there,

only survival

I was strong for I had to be to survive…

I was indifferent in an attempt to convince myself that it didn’t matter.

I was anger and sorrow intertwined,

filled up of others sin

that I…

boiled over…

with wrath at the injustice.

I screamed out, in all the wrong ways.

for I was not heard, not seen, a no one to them.

an object to be forced down,

every part of me ground up.

I hated their faces full of leering and wanting and taking always

I went to my can…

with joy.

telling myself that if I curl up tight,

I can make-believe I am be within a womb

I can pretend tomorrow will be new’

that I am in the womb and will be reborn.

but, it never worked

I was still trash to her,                             

and his toy.

each day a horror I lived

so I became anger at night

indifference by day

i survived, I did

but now I am weighted with the memories

seeing me,

seeing them.

they are like lead drowning me in my slumber,

crashing into my dreams…

waking me.

that I must pull myself from this lostness…

this fog…

find me.

then I can be full of truth instead.

I resist the urge to go to where peace is,

to curl up outside, safe…

to be waken in love and gentleness,

to be found this time,

wanted and soothed.

I am going now, instead, to sit and be in Heaven awhile

Momma Mary is smiling at me,

she knows and is whispering, “Come.”

she will wrap herself around my nakedness

Abba will stand guard.

I can go home now…

to them

home.

it feels as somewhere I have never been,

that now I am.

and oh, how, precious beyond precious, it is.

MISTAKE OR LESSON?

When feelings find me, new ones that I have hidden from to survive, they get under my skin. An emotional “itch” that can so easily turn into more. It feels like it is festering and growing, fed off of fear, as I internally revisit the incident. The end result to be loss of peace as panic attack mode rises.

I don’t like this me.

This morning was/is one of these me kind of days.

I knew I had a meeting that held the potential to make me feel little, all wrapped in fear, the wrong if I do or if I don’t kind.

I rose early, fasting and praying to Abba, that His bravery would be mine. Reminding myself that I am not then, I don’t have to be fearful and that, “There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.” 1 John 4:18 (KJV) 

I prayed that I would love this person, stay objective to what was shared and remember I am loved with the greatest of loves of my Lord.

It worked, no fear, for Abba always keeps His promises, just gotta remember to claim them. He helped me remember.

Thing is, I forgot other feelings. As soon as I felt that I was being misjudged, my words twisted and thrown back at me, I got defensive. Angry too, now that I think about it. I wanted to point my finger at this person and say, “Look in the mirror, how about the way you talk to me?”

But that is not the point, it isn’t what matters, in the end.

No, I must answer for me, not others. I need to work on where I am at fault. That won’t happen if I don’t open my heart to truth.

So, here I am, writing it out to stem the panic. To see with Spiritual eyes rather than human. Eyes on me, not others.              

Judge not that ye be not judged.

I entered this meeting full of judging, attitude wise. So sure of my perfection, not open.

I want to cry just now, I am not liking me, I am ashamed and saddened at my attitude, that my heart, my Abba heart was so un-Christlike.

Can’t stay here though, no, gotta pick myself back up and move on.

Thinking I will let Jesus carry me awhile. I am sad. It is ok to need His help, He wants to help me.

I learned my lesson today.

That is what I am thankful for.

“I am sorry, Abba, forgive me. Help me to do better.”

Amen

Best thing is, He already has, trick being to forgive myself. That can be hard for abuse survivors, especially childhood ones. Hard but not impossible.

So, instead of beating myself up I will praise the Lord for this opportunity to learn and grow. I will find the joy in having moved forward in my healing, one small step at a time is still a step in the right direction.

I choose joy and peace, even as the storm rages.

I choose Jesus.

RIP, TEAR, SLASH

 “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.”

John 8:32King (KJV)

I had someone who is oh so special to me say something to me that I did not like.

I was so hurt by it, couldn’t believe they would think that of me, accuse me of the very opposite of all I felt I had spent my life doing.

I cried to find that I then became angry at them, “How dare they!” I thought.

I so tied up over this one question.

It was ripping me apart. Shredding my self-control as it slashed through my heart.

I just knew ti was eating me from the inside out. Consuming me as it stole my peace, causing me to question my heart, my perception of me, all I have done my whole life.

I wanted to call them back and dum my feelings on them, rant and rave in defense of myself. I wished I was there to shake them good and look them in the eye and say, “What? You don’t know anything! You weren’t there when I was strong and did it all, you didn’t see how much I sacrificed, I did this, I survived that, I sacrificed, I and I and I.”

This is where Papa stopped me. He woke me to hearing myself, noticing all the I’s rattling through my rant.

So I cried it out, poured it forth before the throne instead, while asking, pleading and imploring Abba to tear down my defenses and slash the I from my perspective.

One thing about Abba, He always hears, listens and delivers.

Ripped apart my defenses and let me bare.

Didn’t like this raw view o my heart then.

No, I, most certainly didn’t.

But staying there wasn’t why He woke me to it, isn’t what He wants me to focus on.

Christ went to Calvary to “stare all o sin in the face, held up to tear down. I needed to allow God to do the same with me, for me, in me to all my sin.

Eyes off of self.

I then understood.

I was applying this comment to me in relation to others. I wanted to point my finger, turn these words away from me so I didn’t really need to consider myself in relation to them.

It is oh so easy to look at another’s sins rather than ones own.

God showed me so much because of this

This person is growing in their walk and service with the Lord, so it was a very good call to have them ask me it. They are young and should have done so differently but God will mold them in understanding that.

Just because I fulfilled this very responsibility in the past doesn’t mean I am not failing in it now, so it was right of them to call my attention to it, to help me be aware of this responsibility.

I sat with this feeling, is what I did. Sat with it and ripped it apart, tore it down to its basics and slashed it apart from my heart.

I looked at it with perspective and thankfulness despite how my emotions reacted to it

It was just a statement,

The power o it to lie within me,

Or lack of the power

It is only words, ones that can only break me if I allow them to.

I won’t

Because Abba doesn’t want me to.

He would rather I turn them over to Him

So, I did

Such a load lifted.

He will tell me what I need to glean from them

if anything.

My job is simply to be thankful that this person cared enough to be honest and share truth

Truth isn’t always easy, but it is truth

and…

“Truth sets us free.”

I HAVE TO LEARN

I have found my lost years in a new way lately, not a pleasant one either.

I am finding that I, “Have to learn.”

Learn like all children do. Things that seem natural to you are so not for me.

All grown up means sharing and putting others first, I am finding I feel quite selfish sometimes.

All grown up means I listen, not just to hear the words but to put them in practice.

All grown up meant acknowledging where I fail and changing that.

If I am grown up I will see that life isn’t all about me no matter how much I wish it was, also realizing that life is about more than me.

Finding my footing grown up is hard, painful and oh so sad sometimes.

It feels like part of me is just going away, the part that has loved me always.

Childhood vanishing, I suppose, is what I am feeling.

How I wish I had more of it sometimes… more all me attention, more take care of me, more don’t leave me please, kind.

Thing is at the same time I am so excited to be making friends and carving time out for myself.

I like knowing I am doing someone proud and choosing right,

I love feeling grown up and that maybe someday I will be all grown up inside… the kind that is brave and strong.

I don’t feel so brave sometimes these days or strong, rather it feels that I am straddling two worlds.

Teeter totting back and forth

Up with independence, down with loneliness

Up and down, up and down,

Scared to brave, Sure to doubtful,

But it’s ok

This playground sure is a lot safer than the one I used to live in,

Now I can experience all of these childhood passings while safe,

Accept that I feel forgotten but am not,

Know that scared isn’t something I have to be because no cruellness is behind the words and actions

Only love for me,

Rooted in kindness and graciousness, forgiveness

All the important things that ease the passage from childhood to grown up.

I have been childish some these last weeks, so childish

whinny and full of tantrums.

Thing is I can see it so that’s good.

I am at the top of the slide

and oh so ready

to go down.

I shall enjoy every moment of it

and by the grace of God

surrounded of the love of friends and family

I shall land on both my feet

Even if I fall down a bit I shall glory in the ability to get up

Falling down isn’t the end of the world that I thought it was

so…

Goodbye childhood,

I hold you dear now and that in of itself is more than I ever expected to land in my heart.

 

 

HOT POTATOE

Today reminded me of this childhood game, the one where you pass the “potato” round the circle because you don’t want to be the one left holding it when the music stops. If you were you were the one out of the game, everyone to yell, “Hot Potatoes!”

No fun to be the one out.

I felt out today, like I didn’t know what to do with what I was left holding.

Me.

How I felt, the feelings from an interaction with someone.

I have been holding so many “Hot Potatoes” emotionally this last week that I truly felt I would drop this one.

I cry now just remembering.

How on fire my feelings were, so alive and just here. Learning to sit with them is so hard and yet I so want to grow. I know that I must claim all of me for this to happen, I must take my turn, hold onto all of me no matter how much it sears my heart.

For in the end it cautherizes the wound a bit more. Painful healing that is needed.

“Hot Potato.”

Looking back I know things the problem being it is so hard to feel them. I know I wasn’t being reprimanded for failing rather shown an area to grow in.

Thing is knowing and feeling are so far apart sometimes for me.

I know I please this person with my performance yet I feel so like I failed. I know I didn’t, so must put the feeling aside and embrace the facts.

Pointing out areas I can grow in isn’t reprimanding, it is supporting me in growing fuller into my job. Offering advice to how I can handle something better isn’t condemnation to how I have but a sharing of personal lessons that I find my footing better.

“Hot Potato”

I think I dropped this one tonight. Allowed the feelings to win. Cried while acknowledging I was ok. So much questioning of self, fear building that I messed up. Self loathing that I didn’t remember to keep after things for better cleanliness, pity for self followed by anger.

“Hot Potato”

Worth holding onto. One to keep close that the warmth of it remind me that I have come so far, far enough to feel. Just as I have learned to find joy and embrace peace as God intended so I must the glory of what was handed to me of God today.

Allow myself to feel, all emotions, good and bad. Hard or easy, right or wrong.

A Hot Potato, that is my “Potato.”

I am out, out of then and choosing to go away.

I am in though because, of this out.

Out of wrong.

Into right.

 

 

FOLLOWING ME

Psalm 139:10-12

King James Version (KJV)

“Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.  

 If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me.

Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee.”

Walking in another’s footsteps…

Standing in the shadows…

Lost in the crowd…

Hidden while there.

This is me of late, I to feel like I am all of the above, while none are me . As if I am trapped behind a two-way mirror, interrogating myself. I think what it boils down to is being to big for my own britches.

Walking in my own footsteps, as I step into situations that I know I have experienced before on this side of healing, to find myself back on the other. I find fear raising its head once again in ways that control me. I dislike this trembling I feel with in.

Standing in the shadows of the victory I have experienced before, begging to find the light of it again.

Lost in the crowd of happenings that are triggers, much as a small child feels in a crowd of towering adults she doesn’t know.

There, here, yet feeling hidden once again in my then.

All a perception, not a truth, lies of Satan in his attempt to reclaim the  ground he has lost.

So I must step out of the footsteps of others, grab Abba, God’s hand and take my own steps as He guides.

He to lead me where no shadows exist, for He is the Light illuminating His path for me…

I ride upon His shoulders, lifted from then to see now…

The crowd lost to me rather than I to the crowd…

Found of God.

My journey into this foray of feelings of late are both here and there, thus I feel both. I am coming to understand the why of this part of the healing . I am not hidden when I feel I am, no, rather I am hiding. Rather than facing how I feel here I tend to retreat at times. For as a child, retreat was my defense. If I withdrew from the battle I could pretend it didn’t exist. Thing is, it did. Pretend is pretend, real is real, no matter how one wishes or convinces themselves otherwise.

So today, I look down as I step, to see the footprints I need to follow. I imagine it will be much as if I was to travel to the birth place of my Christ and trace His life from birth to sacrifice for me. My footprints could never fit the magnitude of His, so it is ok to feel smaller than the steps in this, my journey. I just need to rest in the assurance of His control of where we are going. Find the thankfulness that His plans are bigger than mine, I don’t have to fit, simply step forth in faith.

Faith to cause the first crack in the mirror, that the Light shine through. My path not a mystery to He Who leads as we go, this Savior of mine, Jesus Christ, knows the way and even darkness cannot prevail.

A ray of love that shatters the glass to reveal where I am now, in the presence of my true Father, home. Surrounded by a crowd, yes, but one where I belong. Doesn’t matter if I am walking among them small or tall. All are my family of God,  here to help me, not to harm.

Safety to sweep away the shards remaining from then.

The root of my fear found, me. A fear of the steps of this journey that require me to face me. Times when I must look the lie of then in the face and feed it the now of truth. Then’s power is not existing now, unless I allow it. Then will not leave quietly or gently, but leave it will.

For this love drives out hate, a perfect love to cast out fear.

The love of God for me, for…

“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.” I John 4:18 (KJV)

 

 

JOURNEYING FROM i TO I

John 3:30 (KJV)
“He must increase, but I must decrease.”

How I am on a journey of sorts these days, one that is taking place within me. I am so shattered in ways unimaginable from my abuse. There are times even I find this brokenness to be more than I can fathom. It is like I just want to swipe and scatter all the pieces in my frustration, be done and simply allow the cracks my spirit carries. I am finding so much anger and weariness, like a residue of radiation left upon me. The atoms of the abuse endured exploding within me when actions and words now experienced literally ignite my heart of then.

These triggers, awaken me, the part of me that was brought forth to fight. My knight in shiny armor who is indifferent to the attack. She who stands tall and confident, sword swinging wildly in defense. A part of me that I am proud of for having in that survival was her game. My strong warrior within, who deserves medal upon medal for the wars fought and won. Yes won, for though many battles left us lying flat on our backs, we survived.

So, today I wish to honor my Conquistador. I desire to share with you this story of a soldier who is journeying home. A travelling back to her childhood existence that was denied her, to find the peace and all that was meant to be…  that wasn’t then, is now.

Her name is i, a part of me denied in my abuse, the part of me being yielded to God these days that I be whole.

How I see myself then at times, through the lens of this part of me, my Commander-in-Chief back then. i am beautiful in my fierceness to defend myself, so unaware of how small i am. i wore my fortitude as a blind fold to all endured. i carried the weight both literal and internally of the raping. I am proud of my strength. And I should be in one sense. i endured, i bore the pain and anguish, i survived despite it, i, i, i.

This is my downfall even while it is truth.

My i is my sin, that which stands between letting go of the anger that truly fed my survival. Yes, an anger that a had all right to feel, a loathing that was the bed of my abuse. As that child the depth of my horror endured was more than i could bear so this anger and indifference became my hiding ground.

So i am journeying home to me, that the truth of i of then find the truth of I of now.

Healing is hard, this journey stealing from me as i travel. I am physically weary and worn. The thing is, it is the nature of healing, one must traverse from ill to well. Follow the doctors orders and care for one self.

So I desire to have happen, finally. For my Doctor God is showing all of me, us, this. i must yield the anger, cast it out for it really was never mine to claim. The hurt and pain, the weight remembered are but memories. Little tammy of 7 knew no different for she was made to bear it, but now I am all grown up… in so many ways.

So, dearest little me I invite you home. Come with me as we visit our Papa, God. He happens to be the Greatest Physician of all time among so many other things. Lets us together turn our backs on the past lies and enter the door of truth that is our Father’s Home. We have so much here.

We belong to a Mama who is loving and smiles at us with her eyes even, her embrace ours whenever we need or want it, our Lord’s Mama shared. She always throws her arms wide when she sees us, draws us close and welcomes us. We have a brother Joseph who dotes on us, is on guard to keep us safe. Then there is our Jesus, our salvation. Our family of God.

Hand in hand, I see my past i and my present I coming together. Yielding the i of sin borne to the I of the cross now.

I thank God for His having shattered my shackles of then, for helping me to see i am innocent of my then. The sin was others and isn’t mine to claim. I can yield it, call forth the power of Christ’s sacrificial blood to cast it from me. He to be the judge some day of all lived against me. i do deserve a medal, He has told me, He is presenting me even now with it

I shall wear it proudly with a right heart now,

for i know I am my Father’s princess

She of the Purple Heart.          

COLORS COLLISION

Last night, I crashed.

All the colors of healing to collide with past. The present to rush upon the past, a battle of great proportions on the realm unseen.

I imagine if we could see into this world it would be breathtaking. How my guardian angel does battle for me, with me. Tall and mighty of stature, surrounded by the glow of God’s command as He stands guard. His sword to reflect all, a prism of what is at stake. Looking into its depth shows me the rainbow of life, a life lived for God. The colors of joy and peace, hope unto change.

Yet, last night, I fell. I stumbled at the reflection when showed to me. That mighty sword hefted high felt more like it was falling on me. The color drained in the cleaving it brought. For, you see, it was a needed one. The sword of God, His Word, His people, His angels, all being used to further separate, past from present.

I so often live present based on past, mostly unawares. I dislike this, I want to be awake, i want to know. How can I change what I don’t see? I can’t. Thus I beseeched the throne of Grace for my eyes to be opened, the color to collide that I grow.

My collision was this. I have been feeling so overwhelmed with responsibility of late. There is truth to a need being there for less, a sharing of the load to happen. However, it has been my excuse card of late. In the past, how overwhelming my life was… there was no escaping the abuse, the demand to parent when but a child. The weight I carried of shielding my younger sibling.

This isn’t true now.

Now I can be honest, I have those who see and care, will help if I but tell them where I am.

This was my downfall, I didn’t. Instead I tried to be super Tammy, she who does all. I failed to prioritize, cut corners to get more done.

I the source of my collision, left a wreck within and without.

I feel as though I could gladly sit in the “dump” totalled.

It is oh so tempting.

I desire to be stashed away, mope as the tears turn the color to rust, not care about the elements of life and healing.

Thing is, I won’t, I can’t, for my God won’t allow me to.

Even in my weariness I thank Him for this. In my inability to stand He will raise me up, as I feel overwhelmed I shall give my days to Him.

I will acknowledge the facts of my past that are impacting me now, Thanksgiving its own horror unto itself then.

I will not, however, become them. I claim the power of the Holy Spirit within, I thank my Guardian for being here, I claim the blood of Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior the power of the mere speaking of such to send Satan fleeing.

Yes, Satan.

For that is what this is about, spiritual warfare. Do not kid yourselves, Satan will use every piece of scrap metal left from your war of abuse, if allowed.

So, instead, I am off to the Great Mechanic. The welding of His Word, pivots of truth… the soldering of the Spirit and the cleansing of the blood of Christ, I am getting a complete overhaul.

Classic Style, one of a kind model…

Tammy 1964.

WASHED OUT BLUE

Today I feel as an old pair of jeans must, the kind that are tattered and worn from so much wearing. The ones that you look upon and wonder why they are kept, yet as the wearer, you know they are the most comfortable ones you own. You don’t care how they look because they fit you so well. You don’t see the wear and tear as a big deal, the fading is irrelevant in comparison to the fit.

 

Thing is, those jeans didn’t always fit so nice. No, once they were new, unyielding to you move, tight. Your legs to march stiff-legged and getting up and down a chore. In the beginning they are anything but favored, ironically worn because they are new, look nice and caught your eye.

New blue to washed out blue,

 

I am finding healing from emotions this way, especially when it comes to boundaries. At first I was blind to the very existence of them, I simply was never taught them. Boundaries don’t exist, you to never learn that you have the right to utter no, the freedom to walk away or that your words have power. Like that new pair of jeans you walk through life stiff, wary of movement. Still to stay safe,

As blue as the depth of the ocean, way down deep, in its darkness is your hiding.

Feeling blue. Sad and weary, worn out, used up.

This was the blue I knew.

Yesterday God used a hard day to take me from the worn out blue of my abuse to the washed out blue of His healing.

It wasn’t easy, not at all. I was tense with fear and short of breath for a good hour. That hour to seem like an eternity as God helped me to stay with these feelings, to keep moving and face them. No diving to the deep to hide, no giving up.

 

Truth to color my reactions, the truth that I was safe because God would keep me so. The truth that I am more than my abuse by using what I have been taught. I stood my ground internally, accepted the emotions this persons actions created, stayed within boundaries internally and externally that were mine to claim.

Once I got home how I felt the toll of this battle. Like those jeans I now knew how it felt to be put through the wringer. Satan thought he had the upper hand bringing all those emotions forth tied to the abuse, well, Abba and I sure showed him!

My Father has pulled me from the depths and is showing me the beauty of blue.

Today, I am  oh so weary from the battle. Physically zapped yes, but so awake spiritually.

I used to see myself surrounded of a moat, one full of darkness in its beckoning. This moat to separate the abused child I was from the beauty of life and love on the other side. I have built many a bridge in my attempt to cross, give me and see me the sticks I used. I climbed the trees of indifference and anger, fear and hate to break these branches off, thus they were brittle and worthless. Could hold no weight. Never did I reach the other side, always did I fall to the depth.

No more.

I have a new bridge.

This one is strong and sure. The timber gathered by the Lord of my heart. He severing it from mighty oaks rooted in truth, His Word sue and powerful in the cleaving. There is safety for He sets the boundary strong, strung out to either side with cords braided of His love, for He desires I cling to Him in the journey.

He is clearing the murky waters surrounding me, calling forth the lies and acts that darken the depth. I look down now, fearless, I look up confident, as my eyes search the other side.

Blue is everywhere. In the awakening sunrise, reflected upon the fields and sparkling in the dew.

A washed out blue, gentle safe and comfortable.

There is no more beckoning of the darkness, there is only that of the bridge.

As I look upon it, I see the truth of its construction.

Before me lies the cross of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Once again my salvation.

John 3:16 “For God so loved the world, that He sent His only begotten Son. that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life.”                          

I Believe.