THE VALLEY OF THE LULL

k

 lull

2:  to cause to relax vigilance <were lulled into a false sense of security>

“I AM ME”

This is an article from Committedtofreedom.org I rarely repost something from someone, but this so slammed into me when I read it, I simply had to share! So much me is in it. Simply read and be impacted. God bless.

The Still Photograph
Part of our Short Story series during the holidays. We all need a break, and this month, we’ll be sending you short stories instead of articles. We hope they will inspire, encourage, and strengthen you. Let us know what you think.
Mrs. Periwinkle had cornered yet another member of the Community Ladies Guild to show off her daughter’s latest school pictures.
“Isn’t she adorable? Isn’t this just about the most precious picture you’ve ever seen?”
She never gave anyone time to respond to those questions, she simply moved on to another person, then another, loudly declaring the perfection of the photograph. Her daughter, Penelope, was a kindergartener when that particular picture was taken.
Mrs. Periwinkle loved it so much that she had it enlarged, then had several dozen copies of the photo developed. She glued some onto cardboard boxes, which she positioned throughout the house. One was set on the kitchen table at Penelope’s place. One on her pillow where she usually slept. One on the couch, one on the porch swing, and one in the passenger seat of the family car.
She also glued a flat wooden stir stick on the back of one so that she could carry it with her where ever she went. It was a kind of photograph puppet.  In social settings – such as parties or meetings – she included the picture puppet in conversations and soon, people spoke to the puppet, just like Mrs. Periwinkle did.
She even made one of the pictures into a mask and commanded that the little girl wear it at all times. Eventually, Penelope stopped speaking and became as silent as the still photos that surrounded her.
As children will do, the girl grew and changed, but the only “Penelope” her mother and friends saw was the kindergarten schoolgirl in the pictures mounted on boxes, a wooden stick, and a mask. Years came and went. The kindergarten photographs had become cracked, faded, and frayed. Nevertheless, Mrs. Periwinkle ignored the signs that time had passed or that changes were taking place.
One morning, Penelope – who was now a young woman – looked at her mask’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. For quite some time, she had noticed a growing irritation where the mask rubbed against her skin, but she ignored it. But this particular morning, the irritation had become very painful – unbearably painful, in fact. She squirmed her forehead, tightened her eyes and lips, scrunched her nose, and massaged her scalp, hoping to silence the inflammation, but nothing helped.
She became more animated in attempt to find some relief and without thinking, without hearing her mother’s instructions to keep the mask on, she ripped it off on an impulse. She howled with relief, as her face was flooded with air and light. For the first time in over a decade, Penelope wore no mask. No longer was she frozen in a time and space that was no more. She splashed her face with water and then dared to look in the mirror. What she saw took her breath away, because she saw – herself. Changed.
No longer a static being, she was vital and free from that still photo that masked years of growing and becoming. She ran into the kitchen and ripped the still photo from the box, then to her pillow and the couch, the porch swing and the passenger side of her mother’s car. She tore them all to pieces then put them in the trash can.
Somewhere in the yard, she could hear her mother chatting away with someone. Her voice grew louder as she came closer to the house. Closer. Closer. Penelope opened the front door for her mother, who was – at that moment – having a lively conversation with the picture puppet. Mrs. Periwinkle gasped, shocked to see a strange young woman standing in her foyer.
“What are you doing in my house? Who ARE you?” she demanded.
Penelope grabbed the picture puppet from her mother’s hand and tore it to pieces, letting them fall to the floor. She then leaned in close to her mother until their faces almost touched.
“I. Am. Me.”

NEVERLAND

neverland-neverland-8660870-800-548i is stuck in Neverland these days

a place where it feels safe to hide

safe from the big people

secure from problems to big

where one can fly away at whim

laugh and play with abandon

forget

Neverland

but  i know it is not real

rather a trap

a secret room in a game of hide and seek

me searching for me as i hides me

Neverland is more confusing than it is worthimages

pretending doesn’t make it real

i don’t have pixie dust to fly away from here

to lift me from this trappedness i feel

i scared to fly into the storm that separates

at the swirl of the feelings that sent me here

i find i can’t hide from them no more

i want to go home to me

imagesi want to be brave and tell them to people

leave behind this ghost town of what was

so i need a ride

i never had rides before that i knowed where there

i do now

so to stay is to live a lie

so goodbye Neverland

i am journeying home today

starting even if it takes me awhile

my fairy wings are the back of m guardian Angel

i can even lie there and rest while the storm rages

my angel fights my Captain Hooks for me

i just trust

and believe in my momma Mary and papa God

remember that they want me home

they never ever wanted me to leave

goodnight Neverland

the land i was never meant to live in

home is where i belong

home in Jesus is where i am going.    images

 

LITTLE DO THEY KNOW

11062710_10206864696310140_157823479911732291_n

imgres“Mary, did you know?” is one of my favorite songs. Did she know what her baby boy was destined for? Did she know how her, “Yes, Lord,” would resound through the ages? Did she know?

I wonder that today about folks around me. I wonder, “Do they know how much they have touched my heart?” Do they know that some of the simplest acts they extend to me reach to the depth of my heart and soul?

I think they don’t.

How could they unless they understand the horror of my childhood?

To understand is to have lived it and I am thankful they haven’t.

Yet they know some, and in that knowing they show and give me so much. Often unknown to them.

So it was today.

A hug, a kiss upon my cheek and an, “I love you,” that, totally took me by surprise. Stopped me in my tracks as I looked in wonder at him.

Simple everyday acts to most, so amazing to me.12208744_10153124353932371_5603922646054908791_n

You see, my earthly father is dying soon. I have been confounded by this, confused in how I feel. Sad at times, for what should have been as a daughter, while empty at others because of what was that shouldn’t have been. Mostly I simply accept that he is passing as all humanity does and I pray that God grant him mercy.

Then today, someone who is a Father to my friend,  treated me with the dignity a father should a daughter.

I am proud of myself that I don’t feel all like I am his daughter, that was a struggle for me in the past. The overwhelming desire to claim someone for my Father and Mother.

No, this is different.

10670081_10153769347959916_6536740439532913225_nI simply cry at the way it felt to feel safe in a father figures arms, safe in the world, loved right, mattering as someone not something.

I feel as though I can’t say this right, I do know, I feel it right.

It is as though it is an it’s alright your daddy is leaving, others here and now, your family of God, we have you.

We will keep you

We will love you

And we will give it all with Christ like love

Safe

Secure

And as love is meant to be

http://fascinately.com/feel-good/2014/11/incredible-performance-of-mary-did-you-know-will-get-you-in-christmas-spirit/

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DAUGHTER OF THE DAY

 

But friends, you’re not in the dark, so how could you be taken off guard by any of this? You’re sons of Light, daughters of Day. We live under wide open skies and know where we stand. So let’s not sleepwalk through life like those others. Let’s keep our eyes open and be smart. People sleep at night and get drunk at night. But not us! Since we’re creatures of Day, let’s act like it. Walk out into the daylight sober, dressed up in faith, love, and the hope of salvation.

1 Thessalonians 5:5-8 (MSG)

ddec1873af74721f9d8b2c7c1b45a250Daughter of the Day, I heard this phrase at church last week. It struck me then and has been with me since.

Daughter of the Day.

It made me feel secure at first. Safe. I was overwhelmed with gratitude to Abba, God that I am safe now from the darkness of the abuse. That I need not fear the descent of night anymore or the darkness of memories.

Daughter of the Day, His day, light and love mine, here and now.

As the week passed I felt it even more. An awakening is happening. I am as one emerging from a cocoon, from Darkness into Light, from Night into Day.

All of me is awakening to this truth, to being alive, Night always meant death to me, of body, feelings and my existence. Day would often bring a continuance of those horrors so I was trapped in night. Living in darkness of the truth of even my.

No more.

As a Daughter of the Day I feel me. I am finding how amazing life is and discovering myself.

It started with washing my hands. I to be enthralled with the feel them, the emerging of the bubbles while rubbing them together. The water so crisply cold or warm. I splashed it on my face and marveled at the wonder of being clean, feeling clean, wanting to be so and knowing I can.

Sounds ridiculous to many of you, and that’s ok, it is only for those who never have had that the understanding exists. I am thankful there aren’t more that havent.

Now?

my body is awakening. I am finding a deep love of music to the point that I dance with it, hang on the words and smile. Hunger finds me that I cannot ignore it and full follows with a realization that I can eat whenever I want so its ok to stop when my body says enough. The way emotions flow from head to toe, waking up to feeling my body. Knowing when I am tired and need rest. Not judging myself harshly or pushing to hard. Even understanding that my mind to has it’s limits.

I am a Daughter of the Day. His Day, My life His.

Tammy of God, awakening to all that living is.

 

A ME DAY

l

TODAY WAS A ME DAY

ONE THAT WAS ABOUT ME

FULL OF RESTING

LAZINESS

AND RELAXING

QUIET TIME WITH ABBA

PEACEFUL COLORING

THOUGHTFUL PUZZLE MAKING

NAP TIME

-SNUGGLE WARM IN BED KIND

EATING WHEN HUNGRY

STOPPING WHEN FULL

TALKING WITH FRIENDS

WATCHING POINTLESS TV

DOING WHAT I WANTED

NOT DOING WHAT I DIDN’T

I THINK I CHILLED OUT.

EMOTIONS WERE OK

MEMORIES SMILING KIND

LIGHTS ON

NO DARKNESS

h

A LIFE AS LIFE IS DAY

GOOD

NEEDED

HAD

A ME DAY

FOR ME

REIMAGINE YOU AS YOU!

I don’t often reshare, but this has so much truth that I am. Praying it blesses you as much as it did me.

Reimagine You as YOU!
To be subjected to sexual trauma and abuse distorts how you think about yourself. If you had these experiences when you were growing up, you came to conclusions about your value. If a predator or a passive bystander didn’t value you, your boundaries, or your humanity, it’s pretty easy for you to believe that you have no value or personal rights. If you had these experiences after you became an adult, where you once might have felt empowered and able to take care of yourself, you now know that you weren’t as strong or empowered as you needed to be.
These experiences shape – or re-shape – how we think about ourselves. We hear it from survivors all the time: “I feel as if part of me died.” The actions of predators and the inactions of passive bystanders twist in your mind and heart until you begin to see yourself as they saw you. You begin to value yourself as they valued you. Their warped disregard for you and your well-being often translates into a kind of personal derailment of the life you should have been able to live.
The tricky part of recovery is to be able to pull apart the tentacles of lies that have attached themselves to your soul. It is to untangle the deception and free yourself from its grip.
Think about how the actions of the predators and passive bystanders communicated their view of your worth. Now, ask yourself if you believe THEIR value system. If you can see it for what it is – that you have accepted THEIR twisted reality – then you can insist on redefining yourself in ways that are true to your value and personal rights.
Here’s a fact: they were wrong. Not only in what they did – their actions – but in how they devalued you. They were wrong. They were wrong, wrong, wrong! Got it?
So, take their definitions of you and dump them in the garbage where they belong. Take the time to think about yourself, untethered from their warped ideas. Reclaim you. Reimagine YOU, not as they saw you, but as you see – or want to see YOU.  And remember: “Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live with all your life”
(Golda Meir).
Written by Sallie Culbreth and Anne Quinn
©2015 Committed to Freedom / STAARR – Sexual Trauma and Abuse Recovery Resources

WHEN MONSTERS WERE REAL

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I like my home, the way I feel safe and secure here. Even living alone, I am not afraid of nights descending as darkness settles in. I used to be, for a very long time.

thI would cower inside, doors locked, all lights on. Cellar and attic doors included. Fearful of inside as much as I was outside.

For monsters were real to my little me inside.

No where safe, unless I was hiding.

Hiding not only from people but even myself.

camouflaging me, from me.

that the Monsters that found me at night be vanquished by day

Or so I thought

So i pretended

Thing is, vanquished need be day and night, else it isn’t vanquished at all

lMonsters

So many in such a vast array of sizes and shapes

old ones from my childhood abuse tat spawned new ones in my adulthood

monsters that were

to become monsters that are.

such was my existence

Such isn’t any more

Monsters that were real, are no moreth

Oh, they make noise now and again, trying to find me, for such is the nature of all monsters

Yet noise is all it is, nothing more unless I choose to allow it to be

For what I have learned is that these monsters are only as big as I see them to be

They are so far in the my past, it is the shadow of them that causes them to seem so big

Shadows from what was that have no chance is the sun of what is

They are hungry for me

but I am no longer theirs, i am not for sale or taking, or throwing away

i am not going to cower any longer,

no!

th

i turn my back on them, i stand sure with my Jesus

I shout to them that they can raise their heads all they want, it is good that they do, for it reminds me of all i have been redeemed from

i will thank them for reminding me, i will scare them away with my praises to God

for these monsters are no monsters at all

never ever more real than my Jesus.

 

“No matter how much darkness you see in the world around you, My Light continues to shine on, for it is infinitely more powerful! Because you are My child, this Light shines not only upon you but also within you.” -Jesus Today by Sarah Young, p. 262                          11986564_10153570665858864_7924698577948721954_n

NAPPING MY HEART

thi curl upon my bed, my me here

Feeling so much I never have before

I find that I feel safe lying down

Warm and secure beneath the covers

Not in a cowering or hiding way

as of old

beds are safe, I am finding

memories too

as I lie here

th

no more wrong wanting chasing me in my dreams

no more confusion within my heart

i am liking this new

loves unwrapping bit by bit

real love as love really is

fleeting touches that linger for days

k

butterfly kisses kind of ones

eyes full of seeing

me

smiles that curve more than the mouth

reaching my heart

I lie here

sleeping not

body resting, yes

within so alive

lcascading truth washing over me again and again unto again

doors are open waiting for me

lights left on

inside is belonging, warmth and love

i am kept out in the open

free to come and go

playing allowed

sharing encouraged

truth what matters

heard and seen

found

j

all of this passes through me

again and again

my form learning from it

to rest

finding what truth is

even for me

my heart            th

long last

at rest

WAS, WASN’T/IS, ISN’T

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[ (2)I stand before a mirror these days, many mirrors

For within I am but a House of Mirrors

To look within one is to see another

Stretching back to was and wasn’t, as far as my inner eye can see

Each mirror seems magical

In a curious sort of way

 

.For though they are now

They show me then

To stare into one is to glimpse a was

While living an is

I have fallen down the Rabbit Hole

Where up is down, down is up

Then and Now having collided

It is so easy to keep my eyes downcast

To hide

;This I am good at

To hide was safe, then

To touch wasn’t

Reaching out was fearsome

Withdrawing secure

My mirrors show me all of this

Hiding is not safe, now

For it will end all that has begun

jSo, I lift my head

Open my eyes

To see

What is

What isn’t

To shatter the lies

With the truth

thI am not alone

So I can smile in all my then fear

I am surrounded of Heaven

Mama Mary beside me now

Holding my hand reassuringly

All of Heaven here

 

thFor many of my mirrors reflect my Momma of then

I was to not touch her

Never to look her in the eye

To want attention meant harm

“See me Momma,”

The unuttered cry of my child’s heart

thI look rather upon Momma Mary

She smiles back

This is safe

So I reach out

Hesitantly, unsure

I touch ever so lightly

To find no rebuke in doing so

My touch welcome

I accepted

thThe  mirror cracks

Was and Wasn’t shattered

As Is and Isn’t remain

I have many such mirrors

Within my house of me

Yet, mirrors is all they are

Easily vanquished

 

thPieces to lie at my feet

The colors of now

Reflected in them

A rainbow

Of love within

 

th

 

 

Upside down

Turning right side up