I am finding life to be complex these days, well, not life… rather people.

The more I become aware of around me as I am less focused on surviving, the harder it seems.

I don’t like the way people treat each other, or me, at times.

There is so much projecting of how folks feel on others.

Since they feel offended, they offend…

If there day is bad everyone’s should be…

I am suffering so no happiness allowed…

I am realizing I am still fragile, perhaps only for the first time seeing this truth about me…

A scar I still carry that I take things to personally.

Yes, folks may choose to deal this way with how they are feeling, thing is, it doesn’t mean I have to be a part of it.

As a child it did, now it doesn’t.

In my abuse it was my job to soothe my mother’s anger that it not be directed at me.

Accepting wrong love in my young need supplied a false love where none was given.

Making my abusers better was my existence.

It isn’t anymore.

Yet, I am finding I still react in such a way.

I don’t like this, I am endeavoring to change such and the task is oh so large.

Larger than me, more that I seem able to bear.

Just as my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, had more than He could bear.

He too, turned to His Father, for His love to be His strength.

So shall I

So do I

I am weary and worn out from thinking I need to make all better

I am weary and worn because my focus was off the true source of my need

I don’t need people to get it all right with me

I need to get it all right with Abba

Then His love through me will get it right for me

My focus to be me, my heart and words

My reactions and attitude

My treatment of others

Not to survive as I did past

But to thrive present

In the light and love of my Jesus.

This my prayer, for others, in love

My Lord’s example upon the cross mine to follow

“The amazing grace of the Master, Jesus Christ, the extravagant love of God, the intimate friendship of the Holy Spirit, be with all of you.’ 2 Corinthians 13:14 (MSG)




I have been thinking about my Daddy a lot lately.

You see, when I went to confession recently, I shared that I am having trouble praying for him, with a sincere heart. Of course, my penance was to do just that. I should have seen that one coming, how fitting.

So I made the effort to at least say the words, to ask God to draw my daddy to Him, that he would be sorry. I told my Abba that I was sorry for not wanting my daddy to be forgiven, for harboring the pain and anger of the abuse. It still isn’t easy but I know my Father, God, rejoices in my act of obedience. I leave the rest with Him. I may never feel it this side of eternity, but that’s ok, as long as I allow God to take the shrapnel still with in me.

He started doing just that this morning at Mass.

How the tears rolled.

I felt such shame for the using of me as but a babe, I felt guilty that as a toddler I was so willing to go to him. I wondered that I used to thing, “At least daddy jjjloves me some and makes me feel better. Mama doesn’t love me at all.”

How messed up they made me, twisted in the emotions. How confused I felt all this week in my feelings, the memories making me feel I was wrong.

Today it hit me.

Today the wrong flipped right.

Today my Jesus said to me, “Watch and listen, this is love.”

As our Priest held loft the Bread, the Body of my Jesus, Christ whispered to me, “True love is giving, not taking. Your daddy took from you for his want, I wanted for you so gave of myself. Your daddy broke you whereas I, your heavenly King, was broken to save you. Accept my brokenness that it heal your little you’s feeling that way.”

How my heart broke at such words of grace and compassion, my true Father to forgive me for remembering wrong as right as He loved me right.

Yet, He wasn’t done, no, there was still the Wine, the Blood of my Lord.

His blood spilled for me, not mine this time, no bruising and beating, no pain for me. No, He took it all. How I felt aligned to Him in His suffering. How my endured draws me into His, how great His sacrifice.

Who am I that my Lord should love me so…                                     10264276_334572856700614_1819941877732657238_n

Who am I that He forgives me and heals me so gently….

Who am i?


I am His, so I yield all this to Him.

I am my Papa, God’s daughter, loved and safe.

I am forgiven how can I give no less.?

I am loved how can I not love?

Blessed is the Lord, blessed am I to be His.                hhh

He is my Daddy.   His love makes it all alright.




I love the 10 commandments.

I do, really.

I know lots of folks see them as roadblocks or binding them in some constrictive way… but for me they point the way. My signposts, gifted to me of Abba, or I surely would become lost. How confounding it can be at times to scale this mountain of abuse, break down the walls that were created by it to allow the truth to shine through. Right and wrong jumbled like this…

Alex_Grey_Metamorphosis The Ten Commandments of God (short form)

  1. You shall have no other gods before Me.
  2. You shall not make idols.
  3. You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain.
  4. Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.
  5. Honor your father and your mother.
  6. You shall not murder.
  7. You shall not commit adultery.
  8. You shall not steal.
  9. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.
  10. You shall not covet.

469189_212803908838970_2090246521_oThe Ten Commandments of Abuse (abusers taught form)

1. You shall have no other god than your abuser

2. You shall make me your all, your idol

3. You shall not speak of this to anyone, ruining my name and reputation

4.  Remember all your days are mine, I come first

5.  Honor me alone

6.  You shall murder yourself, inside and out, for me

7.  You are mine alone and whose I deem, no one else is to touch you

8.  You shall steal if I say so

9.  You shall tell no one, that would be a lie, you aren’t abused, I am loving you.

10. You don’t want what others have, you are loved better and more completely



The 10 Commandments

One all about truth and truly being set free.

Abba’s ones are a gift to us, to show us how to live in this world while here.

They to help us stay on our journey towards heaven, home to Him.

One’s where He is asking no more than He hasn’t already given or knows is good for us.


The 10 Commandments (for abuse survivors)

1. Keep me first as I did you on the cross, I will show you how love is meant to be.                                               girls-hands-tied560x365

2. My eyes are always upon you, are yours Me? Remove them from then to now, from pain to gain.

3. I respect you, value you, show the same of Me by honoring my name and presence, don’t speak ill of me, I am always here to hear. Be angry at the sin visited upon you, by the sinner, not Me the Creator. Free will is free will for all. It saddens me when humanity chooses sin, I did now wish this upon you. I was there bearing it with you being broken again as well, I cried with you and felt your pain.

4. I give every moment of my days to you, as you serve me, remember to give one day to the renewing of your soul by putting me first, partaking of the gift of me that this provides in the Eucharist

5. I created you from the beginning, as I have all mankind, honor that if nothing else in everyone. Pray for all to find my love and salvation by taking your eyes off of your abuse endured and placing them on Mine I traveled for you. I understand, I have been there. It is why I journeyed through life from birth to death.  An easier path would have not involved experiencing life, but I and my Father desired that we “know.” We do, so give it to us.

6. Murder no one, not just in the killing of the body, the taking of life breathed into them but also guard yourself that you do not slay their spirit, enthusiasm 10-commandmentsand zest for life and service to me, no matter where they may be in their mountain journey.

7. Love as I love, keeping the love I place in your life first, before even yourself. Be content in that love and selfless, thus your love stays pure. This is true of those called to the sacrament of marriage, priesthood, singleness. Walk with your hand in mine in the love I am teaching you.

8. Don’t take from others, ever, anything. Look upon what was taken from you and ponder how that has affected you. Do not wish this upon another, do not be party to such. Steal not anything, not just touchable but the untouchable as well. Do not rob them of lessons being learned, of finding forgiveness, of growing. Above all do not steal their forgiving themselves by withholding your forgiving them.

9. Yes, what happened to you is truth that needs to be faced. Yes, your abusers need to hear from you that you remember along with your forgiveness. Yet, remember not to cast stones. Sin is sin and free will is free will. Hold their sin not against them as I don’t yours against you. Forgive to free yourself of unnecessarily speaking of it out of anger or spite. Leave the judging to God that you speak only what He tells you too of your abuser.

10. Covet not. I will replenish you of all that was stolen. Turn to me to find the brother love that was betrayed you. Allow my Father, your Father, God, to be to you the security yours did not provide. Give your fears and abuse to Him. Allow my Mother, Mary who so desires to be yours as well, to be just that. Rest in her arms and let her love you. I gave her to you when I hung upon the cross, as she has loved Me she desires to you. All those who have served me before are yours for we are the family of God. You belong, let go of the had nots of the abuse to be free to embrace the haves now I shall shower upon you.

These are The 10 Commandments I look upon when my abuse memories come knocking.triggerzone1 The truth to be spoken to myself that I continue to heal. No, I don’t feel them at times, but truth isn’t feeling. It is fact, and the fact of the matter here is that abuse is built on nothing but lies, ones that became our truth in that they were all we lived.

Sometimes when I think of doing something and that training kicks in to whisper, “It’s ok, it’s not really a big deal, everyone does it,” I have to speak the true commandment out loud to myself. It feels weird at times that something I know to be wrong doesn’t feel wrong. This has bothered me for awhile, then today, Abba showed me a new perspective on it. Allow Him to use this to move me beyond triggers and memories unwanted as He gives me new ones.

I am a child, His.

Children learn over time.

Repetitive teaching done in love, firmness and consistency

I had none of this in truth

Only abuse


It’s okay

As I speak truth to my me again and againSt_Ann203

Much as a mother reminds her child often in training

I shall come to feel

Right from wrong

For now I will look heavenward

While sitting upon my Mama Mary’s lap, perhaps with Grandma Anne near by, as she hushes me gently that…

St. Ann Picture

I hear my Papa, Gods, teachings…

My brother, Jesus, having set gone before, an example to follow…

A reunion of sorts, now…

That one day will be happening in heaven

With all my family of Saints around…

One I plan not to miss.




Abuse has no place with God or in Heaven

So it has no place with me or healing,

With you either,

Or now…

For now is Gods.






I woke up hidden today

A step backwards some would say

Not I

Not my Abba, either

Not that it couldn’t be

It could




Yet, only if  I


to allow the enemy to use it so

Free to choose

How I move forward in the waking



Will I be full of fear that I found myself here?

Will I panic and yield my day to chaos in the process?

Will I make more of it than need be?

I could

IMG_2502-1                                                                                                                                          I used to…   Oh, so easily


I won’t

My Father, God, won’t let me… If I choose Him


I do

For He has chosen me

Since forever

He will bind up my enemy

He is setting me free

His peace to settle me

His love to envelop me

His presence felt

He forgives my frailty, for He understands

Simplified man from point to point

He embraced humanity, that He would


He uses my hiding instead

To show me

How far He has brought me

For in this hiding

I know where I am

He keeps me,  me

For I am His

He alone

My hiding place







 (This is a picture of a rock my daughter noticed at the bottom of the waterfall in Hawaii, seemingly put there by God for to the two of us)

“And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground,

and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul.”

Genesis 2:7 (KJV)

It is odd sometimes, the scars I find myself carrying from my abuse. I will look upon them, wonderingly. Confounded at how complicated they are, how they have healed yet with so much scar tissue at times. I pass over them emotionally, spiritually or physically in wonder… the kind that asks oneself, why?

Why do they look so ugly?

Why do they feel so huge?

Why, why and why?

I once saw a Twilight Zone movie, from back in the day, that was about a women who kept having face surgery to “correct” her disorder. She wanted to “look like everyone else.” The twist was that most people in the show were ugly, she beautiful. But society saw things the opposite when it came to loveliness, so she was influenced that way. In the end, she found people as “ugly” as her and was taken in by them.

I feel this way at times.

Not in relation to others, rather myself. I look at the things I have to relearn, sometimes even learn for the first time, and wonder why it is so hard. I think, “I am different, I don’t understand, I am weary of trying, does it really matter? Is it really worth it?

Then Abba gifts me with the end of the search, or a taste of what is to come, and I KNOW, “YES IT IS!”

Resting is this way for me, seems I have been trying to understand the meaning of it for since forever! I thought I knew it, was sure I rested… after all, I had been getting full nights of sleep with no flashbacks or nightmares.

Yet, I would find myself so weary and worn day after day. My friend would tell me that, “You still aren’t resting.” I wanted to scream sometimes, “Yes, I am!” She was making no sense at all.

Then one day I started to get it, I had a day of leisure, doing some things I enjoy. I slept well that night and then the next day was different. I was different in how I felt, more calm and secure, peaceful physically in the same way Abba gives me spiritually.

What a new feeling this was for me!


I found I really, really liked it.

I wanted MORE!

I remember texting my friend, “I think resting is more than sleeping.” She, of course, to reply… yes it is,” as she explained.

So now I had the head knowledge tied to a bit of experience, my Father, God’s, glimpse to show me this healing journey up the mountain of rest would have its reward.

After all, rest is sweetest when earned.

That is the second part I came to understand.

A gift from my son without his even knowing it. One that came my way as a blessing from his learning to hear and heed God’s promptings.

You see, he lives in Hawaii, and he felt led to send his Mom a ticket.

So off I went, excited to spend time with him and his wife, as well as my other daughter who lives there.

I was so happy to see them, it had been so long for these Momma arms being empty of them. I was content to sit at home with them, just be in their presence and soak up their voices, faces, them.10407544_10204129548387792_9102935486297129041_n

My son, however, had other plans.

10411965_329865570504676_8527019644367235583_nHis own mission to show his mother that life is out there, that Hawaii is the handiwork of the Creator and worth the effort of hiking up mountains, kayaking the great blue ocean and snorkeling to the depths of the crystal blueness of it. We watched the sunrise with turtles, played in waterfalls and visited ruins. We went to church together, I to meet their O’hana, hear him preach and spend time in prayer with him at the altar. Each day we laughed and talked, goofed off and simply lived.

I don’t think I have ever truly done that before.

Full days that were wonderful, yet, I felt so rested at the end of them. So full of having lived and felt good for doing so.

 10341684_10204099627359785_5596163897082503779_n          10339663_10204099632519914_5187086645211589758_n         10402619_10204099637600041_7304311157893089637_n        10363535_10204099654480463_3969430593340144882_n

I learned to rest on this trip, to truly understand that it is ok to do things for fun, to spend time and money on me, to care for myself. I can push my body to achieve, spoil it from time to time and pamper myself. It is right to care for me, to love me and to want good things for myself. I can diet to show God I care for this vessel He has blessed me with that I may serve Him, while loving it just as it is.This is not the selfishness I was told it is during my abuse, it is not wrong and I am not lazy.  I needn’t be judgemental of myself for simply letting go and living.

God breathed the “breath of life” into me after all, just as He does all of His children. He didn’t do so that I be a robot, set on auto pilot, as I was to survive.

No, He did so that I embrace the world He has so generously created for me. He desires I find rest in Him, and creation is His.

It is odd, this feeling, I am not wearing it quite right yet, but it will come in time.  Just as my Papa, God, taught me to rest spiritually He is doing so emotionally and physically.

There is a whole world out there, beckoning.

10339547_10204099654520464_6734515703498675359_nI am excited to find it.

I am thankful God is waking me up,

Shedding me of past…

As present is before me, now.

I rise from my bed, awake…

To find my rest each day,

in Him and His plans for me.


Thankful for the discovery of this gift of rest.


body 2Wow, I haven’t posted a blog in a very long time.

Gone is how I feel the writing has been for a while, but it’s ok because i have been on a journey of finding me. It seems that is what it is all about in the end.

As a child I was lost even to myself, the world around me didn’t exist, I survived on a plane of my own creating. A parallel universe so to speak, now? Oh how the world around me beckons!

I have had color for a while, been able to see beyond the black of my then. The darkness of existence that seemed to swallow up my childhood. Thing is this color has been a spiritual one, the feeling of God’s presence and the wonder of the graces He has gifted to me. Faith and hope, peace and love, patience.

Yet, He designed us to experience this as humans as well. What I mean is this, ” I am finding the body I live in.” I am waking up to me, to the feeling of touch upon my skin with no fear of what it may bring. Rather, I see it as the beautiful rainbow it awakens with in me. It feels like I am one huge electrical current and the wires are many, they twirl in and around every bone as they course through me bringing life back to me. No more blocking touch, denying my heart or wrong reactions to good and safe. This is what I am learning about me.

Oh, I know I shall still get it wrong so much, it takes time te relearn, but… relearning I am. How gracious is my God to give me the opportunities to build lasting friendships, to place me in a ministry to serve Him among other survivors, and heal the relationships with my children.

I am blessed beyond measure to write, to shout to the world of what was not being what is. Of hope and healing, cleansing and wholeness, life.

Me unto more and more and more…

I stand here typing even now, marvelling at the sensation of feeling my legs all the way to my tippy toes, the keys of my computer smooth and there. Sounds weird, I know, yet if you have been abused as I was it isn’t so odd. To numb oneself is to bear, so it seemed in the abuse, yet so much was lost.

No more…. for me unto me…. is found

I am me, my body is mine, my heart my Abba’s….

my future glorious.

How wonderfully I am made.

Psalm 139:13-16 (MSG)

Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother’s womb.

I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made!    

 I worship in adoration—what a creation! You know me inside and out,     

you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,     

how I was sculpted from nothing into something.

Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;     

all the stages of my life were spread out before you,

The days of my life all prepared before I’d even lived one day.



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.images

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.

imagesSo 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.

imagesFor 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)




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

kHow 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 imgresand 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.images

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.

jHand 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.          images



I have revisited my abuse in a unique way these last few nights. Aspects of it recreated in a sense, yet, different while being the same. It was like all the props were in place for the story to unfold but I had control of it this time around.

God uses all things for good in our lives, it doesn’t say all things are good, rather good comes from evil. Strength and fortitude to raise us from the ashes of our despair.

Healing is a redrafting of all endured. We to learn to forgive when we never were, even when we weren’t wrong. How one must take the frown of the existence lived and turn it right side up that a smile be found. Right having been taught as wrong and wrong as right forces us to turn ourselves inside out.

The past few nights my healing has been like finding my doppelgänger.

Not of me, but of my abuse. A mirror reflection of then that was now, perhaps only noticeable to me.

As a child my mother often put me outside to sleep. I would go gladly in one sense to escape my father, yet the nights were so long and dark and cold. I would sit 1619557_10152220095581718_692529735_nin my can, scrunched up and drawing what warmth I could from my body, never enough. I learned to think about other things that I endure. I forgot me and focused on the heavens. How I fell in love with the stars, pinpoints of light in my darkness. They to wink at me with love, I to tell God someday I would come home to Him there and it would all be alright.

I got a bit closer to that someday last night.

The stars of heaven lit up my walls and ceilings of my bedroom. A child’s toy, a star maker, to put a galaxy above my head. How it reminded me of my outside nights. Only this time, I was in control. I had a warm bed, blankets to snuggle beneath and the arms of my stuffed monkey to wrap around me. I could stay beneath the covers or not, my choice. I was locked in, not out.

I was safe and warm and home.

I was free to be me.

Free to stay as long as I wanted…

free to exist.


gods-hand-CK06_lI have a dilemma this morning…

I am so full, of so much, that I hardly know where to begin. I could spend the whole of the day pouring out my heart, how I smile as I type that one! My heart is overflowing with so many feelings, the wheels of my mind turning faster than my fingers can type! I am so joyously, wonderfully and completely overwhelmed that I feel I shall explode. Oh, how I see the confetti that would rain down if I did. Every piece a precious memory, beautiful to behold.

Pause with me a moment, as you gather your own heart full of memories within your palms, ones that are cupped with in your Father Gods, and toss them high. Tilt your head back and simply feel the cascade of them as they rain down upon you. Be sure to look into Abba’s face, for there you will see the reflection of your smile in His.

imgresI am overwhelmed with memories, ironically to love it, for a sluicing did Papa God and I go. dd

A sluice room is one in which disposal of waste occurs in hospitals, nursing homes and such. How I feel that these last 36 hours God has been filtering all of me through just such, emotionally, spiritually, physically. Likely in ways and on planes I cannot imagine. All of me to be purged.

I have been sick, so very sick. Came home from work and stayed in bed for a day and a half. Miserable as the chills came and went with no control over my body, weary to the point of barely being able to move. I would awaken drenched, blankets and all, or on fire, lips parched, dry. Sleep to claim me within minutes, as the sickness ran its course.

This morning God showed me this, He was purging me. He Who uses all things to my redeeming used this illness. For as a child being sick was not allowed. No, one was still expected to carry on. The punishment sure and swift should you dare to rest. Not so this time around, so many people stepped forward to carry my load for me. Checked in to be sure I was alright, telling me to sleep, to take care of myself, to rest and heal. Each act and word the water pouring over me as the waste of then was washed away.

My illness has run its course, I am feeling much better today. I am not “100%” but that’s ok. These same folks will help me as needed, just as I would them. It feels the same for my abuse. As though the remembering part, that needed so I could process what it left behind, done.

rr     imgres     11     cupped hands    images

I see myself standing beneath the cross of Christ as it is overshadowed by the throne of God. The glory and majesty to shine forth that the sacrificial blood and it mix in a healing cascade. How I feel it as it washes over me, the slime and mud to ooze out of me. I throw my head back,  spread my arms wide and close my eyes. The gate beneath my feet opens, I safely planted on the Rock of my salvation, as the grime is washed away.



I am more than smiling, I am singing…

a new song is within my heart…

the whole of me, set free…

the me of god.