BROKEN

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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?

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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.

THE 10 COMMANDMENTS?

 

biblegame-tencommandments

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

 

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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

So,

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.

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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.

 

 

 

 

THE GIFT OF REST

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 (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!

And…

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.

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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.

FINDING ME

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.

IN THIS WORLD BETWEEN

images

my worlds collide within me

images

 

one after the other

with a force that awakens

the scatterdness

of

my thens existence

 

 

i watch

no more empty

now

tumblr_mnqvc8MQHT1s6r1vho1_1280rather

i stand

as the vortex

swirls round and round

 

 

i watch

happenings of now

to feel them

imagessurges upon surges

shocking me

awake

 

touch

courses through me

jolting

again

and again

yet still again

imageson this journey

between

one that is

but

for a while

as God awakens me

for

this vortex has always been

it is no stranger

to i

imagesrather

now

my heart is open

as i stand still

in faith

truth

to strike

emotions

find me

right and good

ones

safe and whole

imagesswirling only

in their newfoundness

settling

in the experiencing

eventually

between ok

for it is my path

to now

my bridge

of loveimages

 

 

FOLLOWING ME

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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)

 

 

doppelgänger

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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.

SLUICE ROOM

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.

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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.

PANDORA’S FLIP

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Yesterday I received a belated Christmas gift from my Secret Sister. A special someone who will be surprising me with gifts, notes, cards, anything she wants to throughout the year. I am one to with my own someone to bless. Then next Christmas the exchange will happen face to face. A bond being made our of Christ like love, just because.

I smile just now thinking of this, my first gift from my Sister. It was a costly one, just as Christ’s was so long ago. It is a selfless giving, holds beauty and more meaning for me than she could possibly know. How very special it is to me.

It is as though she gifted me that first Christmas I never had, the one where your heart is full of the splendor and wonder of it. The beauty of the season more than the lights and sparkle, but felt.

This gift awoke that within me, just seeing the sticker on the box made me go, really Abba!  The sticker took up th whole bottom of the box,, the word KOSER on it. I could barely constrain myself, but I did, because something this special is not meant to be opened alone, no it is to be shared. How I pounced on some friends who happened to stop by! “Can you watch while I open my present? This is too special to discover alone!” Giving folk that they are, they did.

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I tore that wrapping off, slid the box from its sleeve to see the words PANDORA, my friends to be like, “No Way!” I am sure my smile was wide enough to hide my face. Felt that way any how. I opened the box, there, lying within, was a porcelain Santa. Not the jewelry I was expecting, but even better actually.

 

You see, this Santa is an ornament. I never got an ornament that was just for me. Mine I picked out, one that holds my history. this one does. I so look forward to when I meet my Secret Sister to share this with her. For my favorite saying is “Just Believe.” Believe in the miracle of Christmas, in the gift of Christ’s birth. Embrace the wonder the season, hold it close all year-long. Follow whatever star God places before you, home to that humble abode where Mary, Joseph and Jesus lived. Home to the family of God.

“Just Believe”      il_170x135.534685573_pnnz

So now I have my first ornament on the first christmas I truly believe. What a perfect gift, one that shall remain visible all year-long. My Santa, his sack over his shoulder. I shall sit from time to time and sip the Hot Chocolate Chai that was also part of my gift, the steaming cup to remind me of the warmth and love that found me…

in a Pandora box.

I have oft pictured my abuse contained in just such a box, feared opening the lid for what would spring out.

Now, I envision lifting the lid as the light escapes, within to lie ingots of diamond encrusted, gold letters.      images

Even my Pandora redeemed, by the Reason for the Season.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!   images

 

 

 

SHADOWLAND

imgresIt seems of late that I am lost, right and wrong to either side of me as I wander in between. An emotional void full of confusion, one that causes me to stop and look both ways and wonder, how does the one bridge this gap?

Oh, I know the answer is Abba. I know He can make it all alright, but sometimes it just seems so difficult. How easy I find it to become lost, to feel as though I am turning round and round, afraid, alone, done.

I share this not because I despair, Papa keeps me from that. I just want to shatter the perception that my writing sometimes leaves with folks, that I am always positive, strong in the Lord. It is rather that God is sure for me, that in my lost times He never loses sight of me or His purpose. Even now, as the tears roll, I know, even as I don’t feel it, this truth, “Greater is He Who is in me, than he who is in the world.”

The world I see when Shadowland descends. For on my right is now, God… on my left, lies then, the abuse. It is so easy to feel that my then was simply Satan, his ground. That is a lie. Oh, I do not deny that he was there in all the dark, murkiness of my endured. What I cling to is this, he was there in the life of others who allowed him his ground. He was not, he is not, my ground.

This is the bridge thru the dark, the pathway that leads from one to the other. I was born right, I am right with my God, so this land I am feeling lost in is His as well. I am not lost, it is simply part of my healing path.

We all have to pass from one side to the other. Each of us will find this part of our journey unique for it is the wisps of our than that lie within, vapors upon the ground of our hearts. Stirred to rise by life lived now, a low-lying fog of missed outs and wants. The way out is simple, is words, difficult in living. Yet, not impossible for our Lord holds our hand. It doesn’t matter if we can’t feel it, it is His gift to us. His, I have been there, I know so I won’t let go, gift.

How as I stand in this between I feel confused. It is for me th little things, at least to most they are but common acts. To me? They hold misplaced fear that so imagesfeeds the confusion. It is as though not only do the shadow of my life reach in but they are reflected in mirror after mirror. Hands and arms over and over and over, reaching out.

I used to be stuck on the wrong side, to think love was only given in pain and using. That the more someone demanded of me, no matter the cost, then the more they cared. They needed me so they must love me. I shouldn’t matter for real love is when one sacrifices self, I became very good at that.

Then my healing began, I ready finally to accept what God had been waiting to give me, til I was ready. The right side of love.

I remember when my first counselor told me he would help me, me, who was such a mess. So many others to say I was too complex. He mentioned how my husband would play a key role, I to give a harsh laugh and say, “He won’t help or care.” I recall saying it without thinking it mattered. Course he loved me because he let me be so much for him, he allowed me to be his strength, to keep him first. I never saw me.

Thus the healing is harder sometimes. A simple truth that is anything but simple. One that could feed despair at even trying to move forward, one that has at times. Or, I can trust my Father, God. I told my counselor back then, that, “We need a plan B cause husband plan A was a no go.”

What God supplied was a plan “G,” Himself.

imagesHe to take on the role of my husband, since mine fled. He to be the one Who sat with me the long and lonely nights full of insomnia. How He washed me in His presence to teach me to want right. Lovingly held me in my tears, gathered them for they matter to Him. He has forgiven me all my failures on this journey, helping me to see I am someone. I am worthy to be loved right. One of the greatest gifts was to traverse back with me into my hell and show me how He was always there, I never alone.

So, now, we are in the Shadowland together. Doesn’t matter how it feels, it is truth. He is the lover of my soul who has done for me more than I could ever have foreseen.

My Shadowland scares me sometimes, the desires I have so strong. Simple ones that leave me aching, weary and worn. My challenge to stay in the truth of the present. You see, I want arms and hands. I want that gentle touch upon my check with a smile sent my way. I wonder how an arm drapped across my shoulder in friendship feels. To hold hands and walk along, feeling the safety of the others. Oh, to have my hair brushed back in love, to lean my head upon a shoulder and simply rest. This is where I become lost and confused. Times when I want to cling to a stuffed animal, ones with arms and hands to fulfill my want.

I do believe my Shadowland is better named, Experience. I want to experience what my abuse stole. My childhood abuse, my loveless marriage, my lost years.

The way out of this Shadowland is to stay in the here and now, to turn upon each creeping tendril and command it to withdraw. To speak aloud to Satan and his minions, “I am my God’s, you hold no ground here. I command you to leave in the name of Jesus Christ, my Lord and Saviour, my Enough, unto more. Be Gone!”

I find this hard at times, it to come out more of a whimper, but the power does not lie in me, so it is irrelevant. No, the power is in the blood of Christ, so I leave the rest to Him.

Sometimes I fail, the shadows claim me but God strolls beside me, He the light and love of my heart. I cling to His hand, in love and safety, as He illuminates the way. We walk His path of love, each stepping stone a heart, pushing back the darkness, parting the shadows. When I allow His peace to settle, I find I am resting upon His shoulder, He to gently love me right…

wrong left behind…       imgres

Shadowland weakened…

Soon to be gone.