Not Mine

Recently I was blessed to hear Jim Woodford speak, author of “Heaven.” It was a moving experience for me, one that touched my spirit deeply.

That which impacted me the most was the description of the Angels. They of mighty stature and the purest violet eyes one can imagine, and then some.

He shared how they are with us always, from our first moment of formation til our last breath. The awe of this fact fills me even now.

With me always.

My Guardians of God, sent to protect, guide and comfort me.

Even then, in my can.

My can. This is how I think of my times tossed away into the trash, literally, by my Mother,for “allowing” my Father’s abuse.

My can.

Except now, God has used the vision of Heaven he gave to this author to comfort me in the now as the then is healed even more.

 

You see, I have often wondered at the fact that, though I remember the feeling of abandonment I felt those long nights, I have no memories of fear or loneliness.

I understand now… it was my Angels who sat with me. Who wrapped their wings around me, miraculously to fit within with me. They stood guard over me that no harm come to me, shielded me from the hot and the cold, loved me in my abandonment.

As God is waking me to this truth of those times, He is also showing me this…

It isn’t my can, it never was.

I was placed in the trash, discarded, tossed away, but it wasn’t my can.

I can release this time of abuse, for it was never mine.

I didn’t ask for it, as I was told.

I didn’t deserve it, as I was told.

I didn’t belong in the trash.

It wasn’t my can then…

And…

It isn’t my can now!

 

 

IN THE NOW

I haven’t written in such a long time… I ponder to think about this from time to time. Writing has played such a huge part in my healing. “Why, then do I shie away from it?” I recently asked Papa God. He has been awakening me to why, He is like that, always answering.The question is, am I listening, especially with a willing heart? I realize I haven’t been, the truth scared me.

I wanted to hide, not from the exact why, I didn’t really know that. No, I wanted to hide in general. It’s so much easier than processing. Thing is, that is only true in the short run. In the long one, hiding draws out the healing, freezes me in where I am.

Who was I kidding? Surely not my Abba, He knew right where I was.

Hiding hurts me, as I shut out the penetrating light of His touch. The, “Me first,” winning. Little, tired and fearful me forgetting who I am in Christ. Cowering rather than rising clad in my new self.

No more, I finally said to myself today, no more as I laid upon my bed feeling.

Feeling.

Oh, how I feel these days!

Ripples upon ripples to pass through me…

I lie still in the mornings as they wash over me, I relish them. Memories flood me of the here and now.

I am ok and…. it’s all alright.

So much of my abuse took place where I should have been safe. I am finding that these emotions are arising when I am in those places. Home to awaken peace, my bed welcome.

I realized something last night as I snuggled deep within the comfort of my bed. I have a stuffed lamb that is dear to me, it was gifted to me in the now, and it has helped the wounded little me so much to pull it close. Helped me in the dark of the night to remember that I am now and loved. The other day I found another stuffed animal, an old worn Owl. I smiled when I stumbled upon it, remembering how I bought it for myself the first Valentines Day I was alone after my husband abandoned me. I named him Who, so every time I pulled him close I would remember who I am to Christ, Who I am to others in the present, Who I am now. I placed Who on my Bed beside my Lamb. That night as I crawled into bed and I pulled them both close, I heard Abba say, “Your Past and Present are one, give them to Me, and we shall fuse them together into a glorious future.

This Lent, I offer to my Lord the sacrifice of my past, I offer my vulnerability I feel in writing to Him. I ask Him to use me, my writing, whatever and all I have to offer because of His grace and mercy gifted to me.

I arise now, and step from my hiding

place. Propelled forth of the wind of my

guardian angels wings, into the light and love of His waiting arms.

I now realize that I don’t need to leave His embrace to move forward, He doesn’t send me off on my own, no, He’s got me, tight… and won’t let go.

We journey together, sometimes I am carried, others we to walk hand in hand. No matter what, He is beside me, and I am never ever alone.

Even in my hiding, He sat with me.

Past and Present are together opening a new future.

Healing can only be as effective as the depth of my presence in the now.

 

I DON’T WANT TO

I didn’t want to go to Mass today, not at all. I woke full of flashback invaded dreams, remembered. I so wanted to curl in upon myself, drown in going away. Away from remembering, away from life. Stay in bed and pity my past me. To go where the victory of Christ is partaken of? Nope.

I wanted to be done, this journey seems never-ending at times. I will have my footing, then, wham, bam, I am down again. Down of heart and weary of mind. The final count to feel welcome. 1…2…3 she’s out!

Yep, that’s just how this morning was.

I was so lost in the feelings, the overwhelming emotions my child me suffered that my adult me wanted to throw in the towel.

I dreamt of the using and taking, the abuse rained down on me… thing is that wasn’t what was tearing at me when I woke. In my dream I was sitting alone, after, so forlorn. I was crying, not because of what was done to me, rather, because I couldn’t seem to dress myself. My clothes were inside out, a jumble at my feet and it felt as though I simply couldn’t do it. I cried that no one was there after, that I was so alone not only in the abuse but further abused as those that could and should have, didn’t as well.

Rather turned a blind eye, a deaf ear and an indifferent heart.

So, I had me a good cry to the Lord and begged Him to help me care in the now. He did, I still didn’t feel it, but He reminded me that I needed to go. I imagine my Guardian Angels wings whooshing as they propelled me forth. I certainly didn’t go in my own power.

Mass. The remembering and celebrating of the greatest sacrificial gift, ever.                                                              Mass. Where my Christ endured for me the very thing that I feel this day, betrayal.                                                                                               Mass. He to suffer again and again what was then for me in the now, flashbacks.                                                                                                                                                                                   Mass.

One of the hardest yet most helpful things for me as I heal has been to revisit the abuse and see my God there. Find how He was with me, yield the whole truth of then to Him that He be with me now as He was then.

This is what I was really wanting to hide from today, I wanted to give up and not do my part of the work in my healing. Imagine if my Lord had given up? Had called forth all of Heaven to save Him from the cross? He could have, yet He yielded, “Not my will, but thine be done.” He uttered to His Father.

So, there I was at Mass. A quivering, emotional mess, kneeling and crying, oh, so tired.

Then the homily was shared. Father to talk of how much we have to be thankful for. The beauty of life and creation ours to see, hear, experience.

It hit me then, all along I was heard, I was seen, someone was far from indifferent.

God my Father, Mary my Mother and Christ my Brother and Savior not only were then with me but are now.

I am home, now is safe, I have oh, so much to be grateful for.

For I am no longer then.

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

RIPPLES

 

the edge of me touches the ripple of life

dips ever so gently into its flow

as I become a widening circle of life

I flow into what was lost

or missed

I am rippling out

as life cascades

into feeling

connected

to love

I watch in wonder

its pure form

touches of gentleness

brushes of lips upon foreheads

gentle as the breeze

safe hands upon shoulders

around waists

being pulled close

for closeness sake alone

to rest one’s head upon another’s shoulder

in comfort

in togetherness

or even just because

is a wonder to behold

gloriously beautiful

ripples have always flowed away from me

except

now they are being met by others

such a melody floods my soul

in this collision of love

ripples colliding

circling back to me

 

 

 

 

I AM…

I am the rainbow these days                                                                                                                   The color and beauty of my emotions vibrating                                                                                   They spill upwards for all are fading                                                                                             Flashbacks of feelings separate from the happenings                                                                         No more do the dragon monsters of then wrestle caged within me                                         They have been slayed                                                                                                                 Replacing the darkness with the brilliant light of present                                                                 I live in the light                                                                                                                                           Breathe its sharpness in to cut out the then                                                                                           I exist from inside out spewing forth life                                                                                             I’m among the living now                                                                                                                       No battle scars as they burst out of me                                                                                                   They do not matter for they are not who I am                                                                                       They are not my reflection                                                                                                                         No.                                                                                                                                                                 My me is a rainbow of truth now                                                                                                               My me is light and love and now                                          My me is gloriously free                                                         I am me                                                                                     I am alive                                                                                   I am color and light and love                                                                                              I am a rainbow flowing free                                                                                                                                                     

 

BIKERS HOORAH!

http://www.littlethings.com

These ”Tough” Bikers Make A Huge Difference For Abused Children

By Barbara Diamond

 

THIS THING CALLED LOVE

I am noticing people of late, those that are in love.

The way love works for them, the give and take of it.

I find that I am learning it isn’t what I was taught.

It is a give and not take.

Yes, there is the getting, but it comes in giving, not demanding or grabbing with expectation.

It is more of a glowing.

I like what I am seeing and learning.

I notice the gentle leaning in to experience the others space.

Full attention given to the other, because they want to truly hear what is said,k share in the excitement and enthusiasm of the words.

There is a body language here of communicating and concern, of care and true devotion.

Smiles shared, tears caught, linking happening.

I like what I am finding.

Yes, I cry about it, I drip drops of, “What would it be like if that were mine?”

But they are cleansing tears, emptying kind.

Ones that wash out the memories so I am empty of past for God to fill with present.

Perhaps someday I will find this, someone to hold as precious to me. Who will see me as such too.

I have my Lord to love me like this, I am so in love with Him. I know He understands my desiring a person as well, while also knowing He is my enough.

I never really had love as it was meant to be. Mine was using and discarding, taking with no return. But that was then and is no more.

I chose to see now, to marvel at the love that surrounds me. To embrace friendship, family ebb and flow, to give love as it was designed.

Love finds its way around, it is a circle of life…

I am in that circle now…

here to stay.

 

 

NAMING AS IS

I remember when I doubted myself, when I thought there is no way the abuse happened to me. Perhaps I remember wrong or the feelings are causing me to over react. It couldn’t have been all that bad, I am still here after all.  I would say to my first counselor, “Why do you believe me?” 

Looking back I realize now how much I was living my past. My reactions to things that others took as normal were always so on edge or set me to panicking. I had triggers everywhere it seemed. One doesn’t get that way without reason.

So, i would face those triggers once i recognized them, head on. I would slowly build my ability to do things i couldn’t by pushing myself. Wear a scarf around my next totally loose til eventually I could tie it, finally have it close to my neck. Wear it for it’s purpose without thinking and feeling and remembering the abuse.

Long road this is, still fighting the battle is some areas. Healing is that way, a process, one that may never be done this side of eternity. Such is the molding and healing of our Lord, all good, all to His glory, all in His perfect timing.

The last few days I have been finding myself on a new path of healing. My mind being opened to perceiving things differently, with more of a focus on the truth of my past.

I often feel, yes, I lived it. I don’t doubt that anymore but I think I am unaware at times what I lived. The true depth of it, the truth of my existence, the substance of it.

You see, some one has made a few comments that have given me pause. Mentioned how I how much I have suffered, used the word brutal to describe my childhood.

When they said this it got me to thinking, wondering what does that word actually mean, especially in relation to me. I didn’t like what I found.

bru·tal

ˈbro͞odl/

adjective

1. savagely violent.

   “a brutal murder”

   synonyms:

   savage, cruel, vicious, ferocious, brutish, barbaric, barbarous, wicked,murderous, bloodthirsty, cold-blooded, callous, heartless, ruthless,merciless, sadistic; heinous, monstrous, abominable, atrocious “a brutal attack”

I looked at each of these words and thought, “Does this fit, Lord?” He to prompt me to say this out loud, “My childhood was savage, my childhood was cruel and vicious, etc.”

I said them, all the way through, crying. Gentle tears of accepting the truth that it was. I asked Papa why I needed to admit this to myself? Why can’t I just say it was hard and uncomfortable?

He answered me, as He always does.

It’s simple really, not the process, but the reason. How can I say I have given all my pain and suffering to my Lord if I don’t claim it to yield it.? I can’t. Just as the path to Calvary is seen in all it’s pain and suffering that we truly understand so must my abuse be for me.

So I have been sitting with the emotions these words awake. Sitting with god and yielding them to Him. In the process I am finding my gratitude to Him is swelling as well. His powerful touch of healing on me and in my life even greater than I fathomed.

My childhood was brutal,

Yet, so was my Lord’s crucifixtion..

and…

look at How God uses that!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NEW YEARS EVE ALONE

 

 

2016 found us last evening.

I spent mine home, alone.

Away from partying and celebrating, no other person around.

No televised broadcasts of dropping this or that, no cheering or reveling.

I quietly saw it pass and loved doing so.

Reveled in the contentment I experienced in being by meself.

This is a bit of a miracle for me, a sure sign of healing.

Holidays always are a challenge, in one form or another. Some to be triggers to abuse gone by or remind me of how alone I was. Oft I would find jealousy knocking much as Scrooge did watching Tiny Tim’s family through the window.

New Years Eve saw me not even giving this a thought beyond to be thankful to my Lord that He has healed me so much that it is natural to live in thankfulness, to see the beauty of what is now as it literally obliverates then from my heart.

I enjoyed a quiet night home, doing things i find relaxing and bringing in the New Year just the right way for me.

New Years Eve alone, a precious, cherished memory.

 

New Years Eve alone, that I experience contentment with self, celebrate the joy of life in Christ and come to understand that I do belong, I am loved and I am someone too.

Happy New Years to me and to all of you.