CORRIDORS

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I have chosen to post this one unedited as given to me of God last night.

 

i find myself walking the halls of my past. i am not alone, my hand is held i feel it even as it seems that i cannot see by whom for when i look up it is as a flickering shadow, one that enlightens my heart to all who have had and are holding me not just of this earth for heavens grasp is here too i ponder this image I slowly smile both within and without as the meaning of this vision from my Abba is understood. some people have their family trees that are rooted here on earth, ties to generations that they claim with pride i don’t i am the tree uprooted, cast aside to wither and die cut up and burned that even the fragrance of my passing is gone upon the wind cut off from this tree. Still i smile still all is as it should be this is what my God is telling me with a whisper so soft it caresses my heart. “come little one, walk with Me.” I have a choice, I feel it, to stand still as i am or to move forward How i trust this awesome God of mine, memories of all the times He kept me in the dark despair of my childhood abuse, always He was there. i hold His hand tight, i whisper, “Yes.”

And… so it begins

Behind us are many doorways, those of past, of little me. They are darkened now, the lights turned off, as each reflects a soft glow of keeping. Within sleeps the many mes of my abuse. Each to have found love on this journey of healing Abba has me on. To look back leaves me contented, for i know that glow. Beside each sits my true Mother, Mary. as before each door stands my mes Angel. Stands tall and ready that no more harm come to this part of me, that the healed wounds stay just that, all attempts to harm this child shall fail.

So it goes door after door.

As I turn forward, nodding to Abba that I am ready, I can feel the safety behind. All is well with little me.

My smile widens, for the shadows are of all those who have been my family tree unto me, brave. strong souls that have done what was needed to enter those rooms, many that had been barred, sealed shut with lock upon lock upon lock set, no key to be found.

These are they who will travel forward with me, those of this earth and heavenly hosts as well. The flickering is not that they are leaving, it is rather. that each beat of my heart shows me another.

I am safe, loved, belong… grafted in of God.

Growing forward. awaiting, many doors still seen, but this time the way is lighted, brilliant with the glory of the Lords army that lines the way. Angels at guard before many of the doors, others within. fighting the battles already in a forward defense.

This time the journey will be different, oh it shall still have its battles, tears will flow and pain will need faced and claimed, but there will be no childish holding on, no clinging to what is old and worn, valueless.

No.

This time I shall go boldly forward, steps taken with purpose, fully planted as I keep my eyes open.

I am climbing the Everest of my God

Going where fear has kept me from going before

Walking the corridors of life

Rather than self

As I was meant to all along

~Tammy Anne of God ❤

MOMMA MARY

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I read this poem recently while browsing other’s blogs. I actually read it the day I wrote ?, oh how it stirred the longing of that writing to even deeper desire, longing, want. It felt as though a fire had been lit, one of give me, please… I need and want love…. now, now, now.

At first I was even a bit angry, “Why, God, would you show me this and intensify my struggle? Not good timing, Abba, not at all,” to be my inner ranting.  How childish of me, for Papa, God, He always has the timing just as it should be. A loving parent responds with what is best for their child, not what their child thinks is best for them.

So, with my loving Father doing just that, purpose came from “His timing.”

Read on and see how tender-hearted He was unto me in all my tantrums, “love me, anyone, for my Momma  didn’t”

 

A Child’s Angel

Once upon a time there was a child ready to be born.

So one day (s)he asked God:

They tell me you are sending me to earth tomorrow but how am I going to live there being so small and helpless?

Among the many angels, I chose one for you. She will be waiting for You and will take care of you.

But tell me, here in Heaven, I don’t do anything else but sing and smile, that’s enough for me to be happy.

Your angel will sing for you and will also smile for you every day. And you will feel your angel’s love and be happy.

And how am I going to be able to understand when people talk to me, if I don’t know the language that men talk?

Your angel will tell you the most beautiful and sweet words you will

ever hear, and with much patience and care, your angel will teach you how to speak.

And what am I going to do when I want to talk to you?

Your angel will place your hands together and will teach you how to pray.

I’ve heard that on earth there are bad men. Who will protect me?

Your angel will defend you even if it means risking its life.

But I will always be sad because I will not see you anymore.

Your angel will always talk to you about me and will teach you the way for you to come back to me, even though I will always be next to you.

At that moment there was much peace in Heaven, but voices from earth could already be heard, and the child in a hurry asked softly:

Oh God, if I am about to leave now, please tell me my angel’s name

Your angel’s name is of no importance, you will call your angel:

Mommy

(Author Unknown)

 

Do you feel it? The sweetness of these penned words, of all our hearts are meant to hold at the simple thought or whisper of, “Mommy?”  This poem lingered upon my heart most of that day and into the next. I simply didn’t know what to do with it, I yearned for that word to be mine to claim, even now with my Mother dead, gone. It is simply the way of a child’s heart to do so, hence, I left that with Abba while asking Him to fulfill this craving.

My how He did.

??????????????????????????????????????While at our ladies church meeting, CCW, God drew near is such an intimate way, one you may not understand as being possible, yet, is. He shared His Mother, Mary, my Lord and Saviors Mommy. As we recited the closing Hail Mary’s, I was drawn to look upon the statue of her. Christ to fill me with what He felt for her as His Mother. To share with me what it was to be loved of her, cared for and wanted, despite all it would mean to her heart. She kept it all in her heart, loved knowing her heart would be pierced as well. “How I heard God whisper, “Let Mama Mary love you. She understands pain and longing, she desires to hold you tight and love you right. Be at peace this night upon your bed, tucked in of Her and watched over of Me.”

So, I did. I spent time in prayer that night, sitting with in the arms of the Sweetest Mother ever, opening myself to the Holy Spirit to connect us, to lead me emotionally to where God would take me. I sat with love that night, and all the days since.

Slowly the need to leave, as I realized,

“I am loved…

I am home…

I have a Mother…

her name is Mary.”

 

?

image002I am the desert, thirsty, dry, parched

For what I know not

I feel the heats intensity

The beating down of wanting

Weighted of the longing

Sourced out

I am the desert lost within myself

North to lead south as east confounds west

Spinning compass gone haywire

Which way is right?             image004

How do I find what is needed to quench my hearts thirst?

Where am I in all of my confusion?

Or am I really quite the opposite?

Am I the dessert?

Am I so full that I am drowning?

I feel so much

I know not where to go with it

What to do

It is as being lost in a desert of an ocean

Floundering to stay afloatimage006                                                                                                                                                                   Love, the waves, crashing upon me

Storm brewing as I die of this thirst

For I know not how to open myself to the quenching of love

image008Who will love me?

Pull me from these depths

Save me

Simply show me how    image008

Life was meant to be

I understand why children need so much repeated soothing

For I am as one

Not knowing these feelings      Darkly-Satirical-Paintings-11

Alone and flooded

Drowning

Collapsing in upon myself

The sea to swallow me whole

That I lie upon its bottom          imgres

My desert returned

I have learned to forgive

I have found loves touch

Still I float

Forlorn

Forgotten

Alone

Left

Not outside

Rather inside myself          image011 image012

LET

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How this simple little word can so confound me at times.

My Momma wouldn’t let me love her, she would say, “Don’t you dare to think I care or that you are allowed. who do you think you are that anyone would want you or your love?”

My Papa wouldn’t let me alone, my older brother wouldn’t let it be.

While others, let it happen.

Let, let, letting.

I said something to someone yesterday that sat with me through out the day and night, “Thank you for letting me love you.” It doesn’t seem right in some way to say it that way, even as it makes perfect sense to my heart.

Love isn’t about letting or not letting, it is about being and not being. Being there right, not being there wrong. It is the actions visited upon us.. or not..

It is the nature of God lived out to all, of kindness and gentleness, words pondered and spoken gently even in correction.

imagesI am twisted yet with this one, I feel it. Knotted inside with gratitude and confusion all one

My small abused me to wonder why she would let me love her while the healing part of me dares to grasp at her response, “It’s easy.”

Me, Tammy, easy to love..

Loved not of Father, Mother, Brother or Husband. My love given, so fully, rebuked.

Now, here, this women of God, along with so many others past and present on my healing journey, love me.

Let me

Be a part of their lives,

Welcome my presence,

Help me, see me, hear me.

I have nothing to let happen

I needs must let, letting, go

For in the end, it is God Who allows all things to be

even for me

let-go-let-god1

so i let go…      and…      let Him

DILEMMA?

ddHow sleep evades me of late, night after night, I to wake in the wee hours, the Sandman having abandoned me. I lie there awhile, relaxing, not minding the night, embracing it. The light of the moon illuminates my room, a beam from heaven bathing me. I close my eyes and simply feel.

Every pore of my body to tingle, much as a sleeping foot does when waking up. I like this sensation. I used to not even be aware of the surface of my skin, I had learned young that it was easier to block the pain if it didn’t exist. Waking black and blue with no reason was gentler to my mind. Not feeling spared my heart, not seeing my vision, not hearing my memories.

Blank, that’s what I was.

A black hole unto myself.

rrExcept with my Papa, God. He who shone His heavenly lights upon me in the cast out loneliness of my nights. How I would watch the clouds pass across the window of my tin home, imagine lying on the puffiness of them as the wind brushed my cheek, stroked my hair and the very heavens sung me a lullaby. It is ironic that the safest memories I have of my childhood are the ones of when I was put out in the trash to sleep.

Yet, is it so ironic?

Not really, not knowing my Abba the way I do.

He who loves me so much that He helped me find good in the sin of mankind committed against me.

As my loving father, to care for me against all odds.

I smile even now, much as I did in those days, wrapped of tin but kept in love and heavenly peace

So goes my nights, my dilemma tied to my abuse, those days to free me these days

The awakening to the cold I endured causes  me to sink into the  blissful warmth of my blanket snuggled tight.

I smile as I view the moon, peace to settle as I recall all those nights of sitting with Papa, God.   oo

Thus my dilemma…

I am awake and drawn to prayer, to simply sitting at the feet of my Jesus.

My body to struggle to sleep for it so longs to feel

To leave this earthly plane and sit with my heavenly family

Shall I sleep, shall I go home?

So I ask God to work His purpose in my wakefulness as I settle deep into my bedding, my body still, mind clear, heart open

No dilemma here, simply His leading

3angelsmm

How He brings me near, I to sit oh so close as His robes billow about me, enfold me in peace and comfort, I am oh so safe here. We looked into each others eyes, a gaze of understanding, of the intimacy of knowing what the other is thinking without words spoken. For, round about flutters an endless legion of the heavenly host. The wind of their fluttering wings to fan the flames of love I have for my Papa. As we rise, it is to welcome Momma Mary, to complete that which was lost to me. The colors shoot abut, each star streaking by in brilliant array, all of heaven rejoicing, unbelievably, yet true, over me.

I was lost you see, now I am found.     bb     images

 

 

 

MORE THAN TITTLES

 

oo

Lines and dots, Tittles really

eeStrokes of pencil to paper

Nothing in of themselves

Seemingly random

Making no sense at all

Until one learns

Comes to see the clarity that exists among them

 

Right slash

Left Slash

Across

Now an “A”

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A whole new world opened

Words found

Expression freed

Mind given a place to roam

Eyes deciphering

Tongue tasting the flavors of the sounds

All coming together

Expanding the world of that child

 

 

imagesI too am learning

Finding the shape of sounds

The moreness of the letter upon the page

Absorbing the meaning

Exploring the context

Savoring the beauty of words

 

xxConsonants free of harshness

Vowels shushing

Whole words settling

Sentences safe

Paragraphs Helpful

A story being written

 

Sensible perhaps to only me and my Abba

“That’s your chair. Come on in. You can fall asleep at my door anytime. Breathe. I am Eva. You are safe here. PT. Here have another egg. How can I help? Come on in. Whoever hurt you so m much is not here. Give me your hand. We found her. Who let the dog’s out! Thank you for allowing me to be there for you. Everything you write is amazing. You are a writer, put your name there. You are more than then or them, you are now and you. You don’t need to do it alone. Breathe. Rest. And that’s okay. Call me, anytime. Too funny. What would you like for breakfast? She’s cold. Come here. Of course that scared you. What’s that you’re holding? Thank you. Breathe. You work so hard at healing. Tell me. Breathe. It’s all ok.

The beginning paragraph found…

tumblr_mir09xqbdM1rq27uuo1_500The story only beginning

 

Hope blossoming from the seed of being seen

Love watering the journey

Belonging taking root

Firmly planted in the love and light of life

Tammy Anne of God

I CAME KNOCKING

th

Yesterday was the hardest, hard beyond hard, intense to beyond bearing…

So it seemed,

Yet…

Today is here and I am too.

I can still feel it, the depth of the pain, searing my heart.

bbGod to give my heart a glimpse into the pain my sin causes Him.

It is like no other, this feeling.

How I am awakened to desire to give my God no more such pain,

It felt as though not only was my heart, broken, but it was wretched from within and trampled upon.

Forgotten as though it were nothing left to slowly stop beating as it died.

This is what I felt yesterday at Mass as I came knocking.

Little me memories to descend with a crashing clarity as I watched babies being baptized.

 

A Mother and Father drawing close together loving this child,      stock-photo-happy-words-info-text-graphics-and-arrangement-concept-on-black-background-word-clouds-89073730

Smiling at her antics, gentle and clam with her,

loving her and being patient,

simply being what parents are meant to be.

I came knocking in that toddler

I to watch her and revel in her safety and carefreeness,

astounded that she had no fear,

absorbed in watching her being smiled at and held close.

Little me came knocking…

full of that endured,

a child of 1 who knew better than to cry or even smile

she who was unwanted, uncared for, a burden

I cam knocking

But Momma Mary and Abba looked upon me just as I did that child

ww                      kk

They drew me close as I partook of the Eucharist

They reminded me that they love me as they held me

Picking up my bruised and battered heart

Returning it to me with words of hope and comfort

A promise that one day it would heal

In time, as I allowed them and theirs to love mem

Little me came knocking yesterday

To finally find the door open

To be welcomed home

No knocking needed.

SEEING ME

44621_1553498846236_758440_nI was thinking about my kids recently… the little things I taught them, those that every child needs to learn…. specifically tying shoes.

It is odd sometimes, the memories of our children. I mostly remember happenings and loving them, that I feel so strongly. How I loved them to bits, always. no matter.

I smile at that, how can you not love your child. I know I never could not do so, it leaves me in wonder really when thinking of mine. But that is for another day, perhaps only my, “I am home Papa, God” day.

I diverse.

ccMy thought was tying shoes, the teaching of that to our children. Mine were pretty old til they learned it since back then velcro was all the rave. slip in your foot, pull it tight and press it over… ta-da! Shoe on without all that bunny ear twisting exasperation. Yet, in the end they still needed to learn to tie their shoes, laces are out there on all the coolest ones. Nike and all that.

Tying shoes, no matter the age learned required teaching. The child all the more impatient to learn it the older they are. Not wanting help, thinking they know it all and them so impatient with their teacher while the one do the teaching is the one really being beyond patient.

I learned to tie my shoes this week, well, in a metaphor sort of way.

I realized how I was that child, full of “I know, I can do it, I don’t need your help”

I wasn’t really feeling it that way, though I am sure I came across in just such a way. This saddens me.

Here is what happened…

My car was in the shop, so getting back and forth to work was a day-to-day find a ride. Once my friends thought about that they offered me their spare car to use and even brought it to my job that night at close. As we were getting ready to leave, my one friend said, “Come on, let us show you how to use the car.”  I responded, “Do I walk it instead of drive it?” Humor, my great deflect at times, something else I realized only now as I write.

Once outside, her husband says, “Let me show you how to start it,” I to deflect again. Thanking them I hopped into the car and headed home. As I am driving I go to put the window down and there is no handle… no button on the door… no way that I can see to do so. I thought, “I should have let them show me about the car.” Then Abba woke me up to this… needing help is ok, accepting assistance is good, people are here to help each other in lots of ways. You, my child, are fearful of help. You have only had wrong help as a child from your father and no help from your mother. Open your eyes and ears, your heart to people. You are home now, safe and loved, secure. Help is just that, help. Even when you know, or think you know, do not deprive the other from being generous and giving to you. Learn to receive without defending and being all that. I, God, am your all that. ”

So I humbly accept, I gladly yield to let go.

I am so tired of late, I expect to much of myself at times…

No more.

Today I shall put into practice what Abba is teaching me,

I shall ask for help when needed, stand tall when needed and not be afraid.

My independence I yield to dependence on God,

I shall still love and serve others, I can do no less, but in my giving

I too shall receive. th

Thank you Abba and Momma Mary for showing me this.

HIS NOT MINE

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PHOTO CREDIT: MIKE AND EVA STOUT

Could we with ink the ocean fill, And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill, And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above, Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

 

I thought about the title for this writing awhile, which is unusual for me. I even pondered what God was calling me to say, which is even more unusual. Yet, what He is telling me to share is so very special that it begs such.

His not mine, Him not me.

This is what is on my heart.

Something I have known in the words to have experienced in real-time yesterday.

His love, not mine.

Him in control, not me.

A lifeline of sorts to my emotions, to understanding the current mountain before me, to finding the pathway up

It feels like I have been stumbling around so much of late, allowing the smallest pebble to be this giant boulder stopping me in maturing with my Papa, as He wants me to.

Then yesterday someone shared something with me and oh how Abba used that

“Let love lead,” they said. “Just as you did with your children when raising them, love overcame the handicap of your childhood abuse, of having never been parented yourself. Allow love to help you now, follow it.”

Trust me, this was the last thing I wanted to do. My flesh preferring to cling to the emotions I felt I had found and had a right to… anger fueled, selfish “buts,” full of, “This person did this, that wasn’t fair,” and please pity me whining.

Yet, truth was in these thoughts my friend shared, and one thing this journey has taught me is that truth is worth pursuing not only to know, but to do… the rewards to far out weigh the cost.

Really, the cost is usually about me anyhow, my eyes on self making a mountain out of a molehill.

So God helped me as I determined to love, through His power and indwelling with in me.

“God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.”  Ephesians 3:20 (MSG)

Love when I felt wronged, love when it seemed too much, simply love, His love to flow through me not mine.

Godly love with a selfless giving, one that looked at the other and desired God’s graces poured out on the situation, His everything to flow…

thHis words, not mine….

His perspective, not mine…

His patience and peace…

His everything..

th

I changed, overnight it feels, in the giving selflessly in obedience…  He has given me so much,

His peace is what I feel even as I think on that which caused so much distress yesterday and many weeks leading up to it.

 

Makes sense really,

for I am…

His, not my own.

I am, Tammy Anne of God.

Refrain:
Oh, love of God, how rich and pure!
How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure—
The saints’ and angels’ song.

                                                               Verse 3 was penciled on the wall of a narrow room in an American insane asylum by a man said to have been demented.                                                                  The profound lines were discovered when they laid him in his coffin.

http://library.timelesstruths.org/music/The_Love_of_God/

BIT BY BIT…

by bit, by bit.

This is how I feel of late, as though I am being put back together.

When I awaken each morning to talk with Papa, I am such a jumbled mess of tangledness.

He has been calling me of late to work on a puzzle each morn as part of that time.

images

We to sit together and work on it, talking as we do.

 

He is showing me a lot during these times, teaching me even more.

imagesMy feelings are such a puzzle to me… it isn’t even always about the past ones either. Oft, it is present. Emotions are so confusing to me, i get so lost in them. Sometimes to cry simply because I don’t understand.

I have found something else my parents choices robbed me of.

The right to feel. A knowing of where those feelings belong, can’t know what to do with what i never had.

I cry even now, overwhelmed at the loss of such beauty Abba intended for me.

The beauty of experiencing the joy of childhood, of carefreeness and wonder. To be silly just because being silly is how one feels, for that silliness to bring smiles. Maybe I am tired and can be, my grumpiness soothed away. What if I just want to run for runnings sake, hide for fun and roll down the hill… follow momma around just because it feels safe.

Bit by bit by bit, sometimes the tiniest, but still a bit.

I too am a puzzle.

That’s how I feel, and….

I can feel how I do, it is allowed.

With each piece Papa helps me place in our puzzle we are working on together,

He is showing me He is doing the same with me.

My puzzle is going to be so pretty, I am going to keep it forever, on display once finished,

FotoliaComp_34410056_FnjgrwUcUPOjARDn59QXzifXvdGU5U5B

 

My Papa is going to keep me too…

I am not a puzzle to Him…

Rather His masterpiece He is creating.

I feel it and that’s ok.