UN-KIDNAPPING SELF

“We are gifted with glimpses of God’s glory and grace and truth.

In our experiences of love, we see, “The Word become flesh” with our own eyes.

Most often the experiences go deeper than words can convey, but we strive to use them anyway

to capture the essence of Whom God is and what it means for us to know Him.

Sharing our experiences keeps them alive and helps them act as witnesses to glory of the Word became Flesh.”

http://www.loyolapress.com/assets/Bookcovers/80181_word-became-flesh.swf

Someone I value being a part of my life made an interesting comment to me the other day, one I have sat with in prayer with God much. Prying for a deeper discernment of it, the meaning of it in relation to my life, past, present and future.

The comment was this, “You can choose.”

I, Tammy, can choose.

Really? Me? that is what I thought at first.

How is this possible? “My whole childhood, my marriage, my life has been void of choosing,” the next thought to hit me.

“I have never had a choice.”

This is the wall I ran into when this was shared, the interesting thing being that I saw this wall before I hit it, could emotionally gaze up its height and width and not feel closed in of it. Even when not visible I could sense its boundaries, fathom that they are there because of what was but that I, TAMMY held the poser to change them. I , Tammy, possess the RIGHT TO CHOOSE.

Thus began the un-kidnapping of self. Me of me. Yes, you are reading this right. For it is I who now was the one holding myself back, imprisoned as one who has been locked up for so long that even with the door wide open the fear holds one from walking out. At least within the jail your fear knows what to fear, without to be unknown.

But, you see, I was wrong, my friend right.

“I may have or not have had a choice in the past, it really doesn’t matter to now, for now I DO!”

Will I cower behind the walls, those erected by my past abuse or will I scale them, run the length of them and knock them flat empowered by all my healing journey?”

I CHOOSE THE LATER!

By God’s Grace, His Redeeming Mercy, His Presence in Me and My Life I am freed to choose.

Have been choosing for awhile really, just in an unaware way.

So I am revisiting past abuses as God brings them to remembrance, not seeking them out but allowing Him to lead.

The one I woke to was this, “I am cowering, cold and lonely, feeling forgotten and discarded, within my tin can. I look upon this portion of my childhood fro the perspective of without not within anymore. I am not that child, I am Me, Tammy and I see this part of me in all her pain. She sees me too, eyes full of questioning, that I can be smiling at her. We are one so read each others hearts. Yes my eyes, say… yes, you can do it. She tilts her head in thought, wonder at the mere fact that she can think beyond her abuse. We link hands as together, as one, we slowly rise up within to push the lid aside, stand up to our height. I lift her that she feel the closeness of touch, hold her tight to dispel the aloneness and whisper, “Good choice, little one.”

We step out of this can of then and walk away… as I set her down that she too may experience the freedom her own legs bring her, we turn and look back.  She smiles up at me, she understands, it looks like nothing more than what it was.

Lies.

Together we turn as we whisper as one, “We choose to not believe, to not live, to not be the lies.”

We are skipping now, revealing in our freedom.

The Son warming us, the Spirit lighting the way, all of us un-kidnapped of God

“Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—how good God is. Blessed are you who run to him.”

Psalm 34:8 (MSG)

DANCE OF ME

 

I am fascinated of late with the word, “Still,” as it seems at times that I can do anything but be just that.

I feel  like a kaleidoscope

The kind you can spin round and witness tiny flecks of color as they rearrange themselves.

Each piece simply lying there, still to become this amazingly beautiful design when brought together in a reflection.

I think, just now, about how when this child’s toy is set aside, it still holds the magic inside. Simply waiting, still.   

I can feel this very beauty as I sit with Abba and ponder what He is telling me, waking me up to.

I have found myself jittery of late at times, always my silly leg to seem to have a mind of its own when I feel stressed. Next panic comes knocking, and it feels as though I am this toy being shook up.

Thing is, I always have been, just in an unaware way.

Now, I am aware.

No more still in a wrong way, as I am awakening to an awareness of me.

God is showing me this that I understand I have been this kaleidoscope all along. I, left sitting on the shelf, hidden in the dark that each piece was still and colorless. Unable to spin in the glory of the color within. Listless, quiet, still.

 

No more.

I am now, within and without, spinning… color clashing in all its glorious splendor. Reflecting back for all to see who look, including myself. I find I want to at times study the different designs I chance upon. Ponder each color’s placement and purpose in the whole, while at others I simply can’t seem to hold still as I explore all the potential within my grasp.

I am becoming self-aware, is how Papa is explaining this to me. Aware of myself on a physical level that is causing more awareness to my thoughts and reactions.

Judgement is waking up as I respond less to the panic, breathe and grasp the knowledge that I have other choices. I can still run for help, or, I can be the big girl I am as I listen to myself and find the solution.

I can be still for all the right reasons as this happens, while realizing that I needn’t freeze or hide in this stillness, no dying to around me.

 

Rather a stillness that is really a wide awake awareness of not leaving the situation, but embracing it as a challenge.  

As God gives the kaleidoscope of me a twirl…

whispering to me…

 

“Have at it girl, find the beauty of all your created self.”  

 

 

 

UNBROKENS BROKENNESS

 

I saw the movie Unbroken today. How I found parts of it more than I could bear to watch, literally to turn away and hide my eyes as I covered my ears. This man bore so much torture and abuse, day in and day out. The knowing it was a true story is what awoke the emotions in me. A few times during the movie I contemplated leaving, yet Abba compelled me to stay, whispering softly that He had a purpose in prompting me to come watch it. You see, I did so quite spontaneously, as I was leaving Mass today. Simply felt like God was saying, rest today and heal and here is where.

I have learned over the years of my healing journey not to question or doubt where I am lead, for the most seemingly pointless, small or random has been pivotal to my progress. So it was today.

As the Lord helped me to cringe less the emotions flowed. I still struggle with feeling, the intensity of it, floods me always, overwhelms no more but still feels so close to doing so. Each crack of that stick I felt, every blow hit home with me. I understood his cowering in defense as he endeavored to shield himself. How I could read the confusion in his expression when doing as asked led to more abuse. The torturing of the mind and emotions as bruised and scarred as the body, as the abuser sought to break his spirit.

This is where he remained unbroken, promising God that if He would be His strength that he survive, his life would be His.                         

Do you see the brokenness before God that upheld him? His yielding the very source of his staying strong?

So it is with me. I am broken, I know this now. My parents choices of sin against me saw to that. How could I grow deprived of the essence of it? I couldn’t, not as I should have. My body matured and left me behind, my mind became my escape that I was lost, a prisoner of a childhood war. Scarred and weary, lost to another’s war.

Yet, just as the American forces came to the rescue of the POW’s so the forces of Heaven have for me. I was never alone, never abandoned or forgotten. This is a truth I know to the depth of me. Many times my angel stood between my abusers wrath and me as God stayed their hand upon me. Much was endured, yes, yet my spirit knows much more could have been that wasn’t. In witnessing the horror of another’s abuse I came to realize this. As his abuser fell apart emotionally I wondered what could have made him that way? I pitied him that he to was a victim to his choices, unknown to him, but true just the same. A truth I must accept in relation to my abusers as well.

The ending of the movie showed me why God had me stay.   

He returned home looking much as he did when he left, on the outside, not inside.  I too, traversed my childhood presented one way while living another.

As his family came forward they embraced him, they knowing in their hearts that he was more and less than stood before him. Tears flowed for the reunion but surely for the pain and suffering they knew he endured as well. How this has been for me as well, the family of God, earthly to have thrown their arms wide and welcomed me to healing. Taken me in while knowing there is so much unseen that needs love as well.

The greatest of love this man found in Christ he then extended to those who needed it most, his captors. He returned to Japan and sought them out that he might make peace with them through forgiving each and every one. My dammed emotions broke upon reading that, the truth to flood me that God would have me make peace with my abusers as well, within myself for now. Only He knows if more is needed but I leave that with Him for now.

God showed me heaven as He does so oft, brought me home to be with my family of God. Momma Mary, Papa God and my loving Jesus. How oft we sit together and how sweet and precious those times are. He showed me more though, reminding me that I have an earthly family too. The sweetness of His embrace to awaken within me this…

Someday perhaps my parents and I can embrace on heaven’s side. I can know the joy of telling my older brother I forgive him. Who am I to judge their choices, Jesus whispered to me, when He has forgiven me beyond mine.

I am no one without Him, His saving grace, mercy and forgiveness are my redemption.

So I am to extend to others, beginning with those it is hardest to do so with.

Prayer the key, always that opens the doors of my healing to crack this one as well.

Because of and by God’s power with in me and the Jesus’ redemptive blood I will pray for my parents and brother, for all those others who used me, bought me and beat me. It won’t be easy, I am thankful for the journey of my Lord’s life and the power of His Crucifixion example to lead me.

“Father, forgive them, they knew not what they did.”

Perhaps one day I shall experience running into my Momma’s arms, looking upon my Father’s hands as I hold them, Nodding to my brother as our hearts unite as family was meant to.

The joy to be for me, beyond the embrace, in the knowledge that they too have found forgiveness for themselves, yielded to God and been saved.

Great is the Lord and greatly to be praised.

Unbroken is a 2014 American war drama film, produced and directed by Angelina Jolie, and based on the 2010 non-fiction book by Laura Hillenbrand Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption. The film revolves around the life of USA Olympian and athlete Louis “Louie” Zamperini, portrayed by Jack O’Connell. Zamperini, who died on July 2, 2014, at the age of 97, survived in a raft for 47 days after his bomber was downed in WWII, and was sent to a series of prisoner of war camps.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Unbroken_%28film%29

 

?

I 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?             

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 afloat                                                                                                                                                                   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

Who will love me?

Pull me from these depths

Save me

Simply show me how    

Life was meant to be

I understand why children need so much repeated soothing

For I am as one

Not knowing these feelings      

Alone and flooded

Drowning

Collapsing in upon myself

The sea to swallow me whole

That I lie upon its bottom          

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           

LET

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.

I 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

so i let go…      and…      let Him

FLASHPOINT PARADOX

A flashback invaded my sleep this last night. I to awaken lost to me, floundering in its rememberedness of then. Full of fear and drowning, tearless at the shear wrongness of this memory.

Flashpoint found

That which ignites

Flashbacks are so Flashpoint, always, for me

How I recall my first, the hiding it led to as fear gobbled me whole, controlled me that I ran. I driven to make myself invisible, unheard, gone. A fear intense beyond intense, full of remembered pain and suffering. It no wonder that I hid from it as a child of 6, hid to protect me and my baby brother. Yet hiding only lasts so long, can only if one wants to survive. To physically stay under the house meant no food. I recall not minding that for myself, but my brother needed to eat and was in so much pain.

                                                                       So I crawled out, endured and his some more. Just hid in daylight, inside myself.

A hiding that followed me as I grew, becoming more than the safety net the child invented it for.

Now more of a gateway to more abuse being accepted, my growth stunted, my hiding unknown even to me.    

Til one day, my Papa, God, knowing I was ready and strong enough in him whispered to me, “I see you, my little one, it is time to unhide, with Me.”

Oh how I recall those beginning days of my healing. How patient my God was with me, how just there the one He was using to help me find safety and bravery to show myself. Day after day to lead to a bit more, a peeking out to one foot across the threshold. I envision that day I finally took my first step, the barrier within only an inch crossed but behind me just te same. A doorway crossed. One that over the next few months taught the lost, beaten hands always wrong with me, that it wasn’t meant to be that way. I found arms that were merely for holding, closeness that was rest and safe. Acceptance and peace, a peace I was allowed to rest in. A door open, day or night, just for me. I blossomed in that time, grew up some in all I had missed. Learned that even when that time ended because seasons change, that the truth of that time wasn’t going away, never would.

That’s so amazing to me, even still. That I am loved, me, tammy.

I realized then that all Flashpoints needn’t claim me. I learned the way any child does, by experiencing many in the years to follow. Mistakes made but always upon always God to provide me with a someone from His people to live Him out to me. Doors opened at all hours, arms only a knock away morning after morning to send me off to school with warmth and love. I to not even remember all the times I came knocking but welcomed just the same. A hug with a sigh that was oh so sweet to hear, a breakfast shared, warmth provided when the flashback claimed my body, my coldness noticed.

Times when I would run, literally, to a friend in my confusion. Sit at her feet and cry out the not understanding of my actions or those of others.

Welcomed when I couldn’t even remember who they were, just that they loved me. Helped to grow in the Word through study, hand-held as I grew, keeping it safe and true.

Til Abba used all of this to bring me home to where I could be kept.

Home to here. To those to help me free me inside as much as these before did me outside, that Flashpoints not send me scurrying.

You see, my flashpoints are good to happen in that they ignite reality, painful past, yes, but only to consume them. Staying in God to enable me to lose the flashback rather than me. All my family of God gone before to be the anchor of fresh memories I can turn to that I stay seen, heal a bit more.

It is a bit harder today, than sometimes. with this being a memory not found before. With me being so visual that my flashbacks are in pictures not words. This one tears my heart open and causes a cascade of tears for little me. I could so easy become lost in the stench of the water, the game taught wrong, the sheer foulness of someone doing such a thing to a mere babe.

or…

I can turn to now memories, reach my tiny arms up and out, just knowing that there are so many who see me in this horror, who flash eyes of God’s wrath upon the scene and reach out to lift me so gently from the water, wrap me in the softest towel of safety and hold me close. Love me right and whisper, “it is not your fault. He is the bad man, you are such a sweet, good little girl.”

They are showing me sunshine now, running and playing, that water cleans and being clean is ok. They want me to care for myself, to rest and grow, eat enough and right. They see me and accept me, teach me when I make a mistake to see it and learn, to accept I am not perfect nor need be.

They see me, so much so that hiding wouldn’t be possible even if I tried.

Know why?

Cause they see with Abba eyes, feel with Abba heart, reach out with only His goodness and leading their fuel

An Abba Flashpoint that cleanses, purifies and make it all alright

 

dream or no dream

“TELL ME”

“Tell me” when all is naught as it should be

“Tell me” when your past comes knocking, fear of then to cinch your heart

“Tell me” how vapors rise, fogginess to lay grip on your mind

“Tell me” and fear not, for there is naught to fear here

“Tell me” that I may “Tell you”

“Tell you” that you are safe and loved

“Tell you” that present is where you are, where you shall stay

“Tell me as I tell you” that you need not go alone, never, ever again

“Tell me” please, I long to hear, to help, to be there with you

“Tell me” that I may “Tell you” I understand

“Tell me” for I want to hear

“Tell me” in childlike faith believing

“Tell me” for I am listening to hear

“Tell me” that you too may hear

As God “Tells you” Listen for the color of life   

 

Listen for Me in then

Hear the sound of my heart

Find the beauty of staying

Hold tight to the colors of now

“Tell me” for I and Mine are right here

and We are going no where without you

 

“LOOK, MA, NO HANDS!”

I have been pondering so many things of late. It as if I have moved from one dimension into another. I stand on this thin line I see, stretching far to the left and even further to the right. My mind’s eye to survey both sides of  this timeline  evaluating.

I look back upon my past to see the sameness that followed me into my adulthood from my childhood, the cracks and fractures of the seismic proportion of my abuse endured when small to be the tools I used once grown.

I do not like this truth I see. For as God leads me to revisit times past He is revealing to me, me. Showing me how my perception was faulty and my vision clouded. Helping me to understand that I often allowed my pain of past to blind me of my present truth that the cascade of sin continued. Sin lived out against me to stunt my growth, hold me back as I allowed myself to be abused and used in adulthood.

Adulthood. That milestone where one awakens to a desire to be on their own, to leave the nest and make their own way, much as a child does when the training wheels come off their bike.

I see my children even now, how they wobbled and sometimes even fell down those first few trys. Yet they persisted, got back up and began again. Not thinking about the fall or scrapes rather desiring to try again, to whip down the lane faster than they could with four wheels, loving the idea and freedom two wheels gave them. For my son, after a  few months of practice he still wanted to be more in control, so, he let go. Practiced til he could ride with no hands. Learned he could control his direction by other means beyond the obvious one of holding on.

This is where I find myself.

As a young adult and married woman I thought the way to survive was to keep those old training wheels I brought with me from my abuse.  Stay tied to not seeing myself capable of freedom and bravery, no daring soul found within me. I had learned my “limits” and kept to them. Love that wasn’t love at all to be reasoned away still yet. I to shoulder the blame and duty to fix everything, only to wear out and brake myself even more.

Four wheels to seem so much safer than two.

Til one day God said, “Enough.”  like loving parents do. He simply took those training wheels right out from under me, my world to seem to fall apart as it crashed around me. I found it easier to simply not ride this new bike, it hurt less than colliding with truth.

Yet, again, my loving Father just kept nudging me on that I would start to take small ventures forth. He held my hand  to start, guided me and steadied my wobbling til finally He was running beside me by placing those in my life He knew would be what I needed.

How I have relied on all He provided. How sometimes I still yearn for someone to hold onto the seat and do the steadying for me when I hit bumps in the road.

However, my Lord, is showing me it is time. He has been helping me to see beyond myself, giving me a glimpse of freedom, freedom from the past, freedom from the my childhood and even my intense adulthood search for love.

He has promised that He is, “Greater than he who is in the world.” He  has never let me down and always far exceeded my hopes or expectations, He is now even.

So, in faith, I throw my arms wide as the wheels of present time carry me forward, further and further into a future that is beckoning. I pedal faster as I look back over my shoulder to see all the ones who helped me get going, watch as they cheer me on. I turn forward that I might see where I am going, secure in knowing they are there when needed.

If I want to be now, I must embrace now.

If I value maturity then I must act mature.

To be worth listening to I must speak up.

As a child of God I embrace this freedom by yielding myself. I implore Him to set me free by tethering me to Him, His words and teachings the wind at my back. The Holy Spirit to steer the way.

For, “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a (woman), I put away childish things.” 1 Corinthians 13:11 (KJV)

 

 

I CAME KNOCKING

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.

God 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,      

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

                      

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 me

Little me came knocking yesterday

To finally find the door open

To be welcomed home

No knocking needed.

SEEING ME

I 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.

My 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. 

Thank you Abba and Momma Mary for showing me this.