NAMING AS IS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

bru·tal

ˈbro͞odl/

adjective

1. savagely violent.

   “a brutal murder”

   synonyms:

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

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

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

He answered me, as He always does.

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

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

My childhood was brutal,

Yet, so was my Lord’s crucifixtion..

and…

look at How God uses that!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NEW YEARS EVE ALONE

 

 

2016 found us last evening.

I spent mine home, alone.

Away from partying and celebrating, no other person around.

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

I quietly saw it pass and loved doing so.

Reveled in the contentment I experienced in being by meself.

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

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

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

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

New Years Eve alone, a precious, cherished memory.

 

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

Happy New Years to me and to all of you.    

 

THE VALLEY OF THE LULL

 lull

2:  to cause to relax vigilance <were lulled into a false sense of security>

*http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/lull

I had a flashback in my sleep last night. Yes, they can happen that way. Ones dreamscape to become the abuse relived in the mind. Sometimes when life takes curves and turns into new territory my emotions and memories race alongside in an effort to heal by catching up. Hence, a flash back this time.

I am growing and as with all of us, growth means change. To explore these new area s of maturity, ones that I would have experienced as a child and teen, even some as an adult, if abuse hadn’t been present oft-times means a cleansing is needed. The old wrong must be flushed from my system that the new can take root and grow healthy and right.

Wrong to stop feeling right as God intended truth gains ground.

A hard process, a long one, but such a precious one in the transformation God is working, in my heart, mind and body.

So it was even with this recent flashback, for it was different than usual in that I didn’t wake to find no control. I wasn’t desiring to flee or hid, it didn’t scare me or overwhelm me. No, it was more of a struggle to move forward. I sat beneath the heating vent just to feel something present, full blast at that. I called a friend to know I told someone, that I could do that, leaving a message when she was unavailable.

Then,  I went about getting ready for work.

Yet, I did so, in a lull. My mind foggy, thoughts drifting, processing drained.

I found myself in this valley of lull for quite some time, hours. Every action a conscious effort, I felt so drained.

My friend called me then, once she was free. What she said pierced this stupor I was floundering in. “Remember to pray, bind up Satan and all His stickiness,” as she oft-times puts it. I don’t recall her actual words, but my spirit knew from past battles.

My heart heard, “Fight the lull!”

The clouds cleared a bit then, when I hung up, and holding my head in my hands I breathed, “Papa, help me, please.”

A groggy prayer at best, but God always hears, understands our plea even when we don’t know what to ask for.

He spent the next few hours nudging me to cling to Him, hold tight that He could lead me into the light, a glorious light full of the warmth and rays of the Imacculant Heart of Christ. I feel the touch of it even now as I revisit, my Lord so close.

“Lull” a false calm in the storm

Satan tried to trip me up with this today. He failed. He always shall fail.

For no matter how blindly I may stumble, my Abba holds me tight, loves me tight and leads me on.

His voice to my abused and battered, child and woman, I was, all the lullaby needed to heal.

“This is what the Lord says— he who made a way through the sea, a path through the mighty waters, “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”

Isaiah 43:16, 18-19 NIV

DAUGHTER OF THE DAY

 

But friends, you’re not in the dark, so how could you be taken off guard by any of this? You’re sons of Light, daughters of Day. We live under wide open skies and know where we stand. So let’s not sleepwalk through life like those others. Let’s keep our eyes open and be smart. People sleep at night and get drunk at night. But not us! Since we’re creatures of Day, let’s act like it. Walk out into the daylight sober, dressed up in faith, love, and the hope of salvation.

1 Thessalonians 5:5-8 (MSG)

Daughter of the Day, I heard this phrase at church last week. It struck me then and has been with me since.

Daughter of the Day.

It made me feel secure at first. Safe. I was overwhelmed with gratitude to Abba, God that I am safe now from the darkness of the abuse. That I need not fear the descent of night anymore or the darkness of memories.

Daughter of the Day, His day, light and love mine, here and now.

As the week passed I felt it even more. An awakening is happening. I am as one emerging from a cocoon, from Darkness into Light, from Night into Day.

All of me is awakening to this truth, to being alive, Night always meant death to me, of body, feelings and my existence. Day would often bring a continuance of those horrors so I was trapped in night. Living in darkness of the truth of even my.

No more.

As a Daughter of the Day I feel me. I am finding how amazing life is and discovering myself.

It started with washing my hands. I to be enthralled with the feel them, the emerging of the bubbles while rubbing them together. The water so crisply cold or warm. I splashed it on my face and marveled at the wonder of being clean, feeling clean, wanting to be so and knowing I can.

Sounds ridiculous to many of you, and that’s ok, it is only for those who never have had that the understanding exists. I am thankful there aren’t more that havent.

Now?

my body is awakening. I am finding a deep love of music to the point that I dance with it, hang on the words and smile. Hunger finds me that I cannot ignore it and full follows with a realization that I can eat whenever I want so its ok to stop when my body says enough. The way emotions flow from head to toe, waking up to feeling my body. Knowing when I am tired and need rest. Not judging myself harshly or pushing to hard. Even understanding that my mind to has it’s limits.

I am a Daughter of the Day. His Day, My life His.

Tammy of God, awakening to all that living is.

 

WAS, WASN’T/IS, ISN’T

 

I stand before a mirror these days, many mirrors

For within I am but a House of Mirrors

To look within one is to see another

Stretching back to was and wasn’t, as far as my inner eye can see

Each mirror seems magical

In a curious sort of way

 

For though they are now

They show me then

To stare into one is to glimpse a was

While living an is

I have fallen down the Rabbit Hole

Where up is down, down is up

Then and Now having collided

It is so easy to keep my eyes downcast

To hide

This I am good at

To hide was safe, then

To touch wasn’t

Reaching out was fearsome

Withdrawing secure

My mirrors show me all of this

Hiding is not safe, now

For it will end all that has begun

So, I lift my head

Open my eyes

To see

What is

What isn’t

To shatter the lies

With the truth

I am not alone

So I can smile in all my then fear

I am surrounded of Heaven

Mama Mary beside me now

Holding my hand reassuringly

All of Heaven here

 

For many of my mirrors reflect my Momma of then

I was to not touch her

Never to look her in the eye

To want attention meant harm

“See me Momma,”

The unuttered cry of my child’s heart

I look rather upon Momma Mary

She smiles back

This is safe

So I reach out

Hesitantly, unsure

I touch ever so lightly

To find no rebuke in doing so

My touch welcome

I accepted

The  mirror cracks

Was and Wasn’t shattered

As Is and Isn’t remain

I have many such mirrors

Within my house of me

Yet, mirrors is all they are

Easily vanquished

 

Pieces to lie at my feet

The colors of now

Reflected in them

A rainbow

Of love within

 

 

 

Upside down

Turning right side up

 

 

 

I AM BLESSED

I am weighted down

full of the abuse gone by,

the memories invade me

a stream of visits,

a turnstile of arriving,

never-ceasing

past remembering of that

which sank me lower to lower                            

my bed to carry my frame…

imprinted upon it.

for I was no form

rather a mold.

shaped to serve their sinful choices.

there was no me there,

only survival

I was strong for I had to be to survive…

I was indifferent in an attempt to convince myself that it didn’t matter.

I was anger and sorrow intertwined,

filled up of others sin

that I…

boiled over…

with wrath at the injustice.

I screamed out, in all the wrong ways.

for I was not heard, not seen, a no one to them.

an object to be forced down,

every part of me ground up.

I hated their faces full of leering and wanting and taking always

I went to my can…

with joy.

telling myself that if I curl up tight,

I can make-believe I am be within a womb

I can pretend tomorrow will be new’

that I am in the womb and will be reborn.

but, it never worked

I was still trash to her,                             

and his toy.

each day a horror I lived

so I became anger at night

indifference by day

i survived, I did

but now I am weighted with the memories

seeing me,

seeing them.

they are like lead drowning me in my slumber,

crashing into my dreams…

waking me.

that I must pull myself from this lostness…

this fog…

find me.

then I can be full of truth instead.

I resist the urge to go to where peace is,

to curl up outside, safe…

to be waken in love and gentleness,

to be found this time,

wanted and soothed.

I am going now, instead, to sit and be in Heaven awhile

Momma Mary is smiling at me,

she knows and is whispering, “Come.”

she will wrap herself around my nakedness

Abba will stand guard.

I can go home now…

to them

home.

it feels as somewhere I have never been,

that now I am.

and oh, how, precious beyond precious, it is.

MISTAKE OR LESSON?

When feelings find me, new ones that I have hidden from to survive, they get under my skin. An emotional “itch” that can so easily turn into more. It feels like it is festering and growing, fed off of fear, as I internally revisit the incident. The end result to be loss of peace as panic attack mode rises.

I don’t like this me.

This morning was/is one of these me kind of days.

I knew I had a meeting that held the potential to make me feel little, all wrapped in fear, the wrong if I do or if I don’t kind.

I rose early, fasting and praying to Abba, that His bravery would be mine. Reminding myself that I am not then, I don’t have to be fearful and that, “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.” 1 John 4:18 (KJV) 

I prayed that I would love this person, stay objective to what was shared and remember I am loved with the greatest of loves of my Lord.

It worked, no fear, for Abba always keeps His promises, just gotta remember to claim them. He helped me remember.

Thing is, I forgot other feelings. As soon as I felt that I was being misjudged, my words twisted and thrown back at me, I got defensive. Angry too, now that I think about it. I wanted to point my finger at this person and say, “Look in the mirror, how about the way you talk to me?”

But that is not the point, it isn’t what matters, in the end.

No, I must answer for me, not others. I need to work on where I am at fault. That won’t happen if I don’t open my heart to truth.

So, here I am, writing it out to stem the panic. To see with Spiritual eyes rather than human. Eyes on me, not others.              

Judge not that ye be not judged.

I entered this meeting full of judging, attitude wise. So sure of my perfection, not open.

I want to cry just now, I am not liking me, I am ashamed and saddened at my attitude, that my heart, my Abba heart was so un-Christlike.

Can’t stay here though, no, gotta pick myself back up and move on.

Thinking I will let Jesus carry me awhile. I am sad. It is ok to need His help, He wants to help me.

I learned my lesson today.

That is what I am thankful for.

“I am sorry, Abba, forgive me. Help me to do better.”

Amen

Best thing is, He already has, trick being to forgive myself. That can be hard for abuse survivors, especially childhood ones. Hard but not impossible.

So, instead of beating myself up I will praise the Lord for this opportunity to learn and grow. I will find the joy in having moved forward in my healing, one small step at a time is still a step in the right direction.

I choose joy and peace, even as the storm rages.

I choose Jesus.

A SHOE KIND OF DAY

“Be prepared. You’re up against far more than you can handle on your own. Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued, so that when it’s all over but the shouting you’ll still be on your feet. Truth, righteousness, peace, faith, and salvation are more than words. Learn how to apply them. You’ll need them throughout your life. God’s Word is an indispensable weapon. In the same way, prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare. Pray hard and long.”  Ephesians 6:15-18a (MSG)

Anyone who knows me is well aware of my “shoe issue.” I smile as I type this. Smile because I know many of you are doing just that, thinking, “What shoes?”

Now I am chuckling a bit.

Shoes, they aren’t really my thing. I am more likely to be without than with when it comes to them. Oh, I have lots of them, tucked away in a magnificent antique box that I found, perfect with all its cubbies. Thing is, my shoes spend more time there than on my feet.

I do love some of them, how they are comfortable, I don’t buy them if they aren’t! No high heels for this girl!

I just don’t wear them at times.

How could I revel in the walking through the rain puddles if I did? Feel the texture of the earth beneath my feet? I feel so much with my feet!

Yet, I am learning that there are times for shoelessness and times for wearing them.

After all, going barefoot in the snow, as I have often, isn’t good for my health. Caring for my feet requires shodding them in the heat, guarding them from harm.

So,  shoeless kind of days are less.

Today, Abba, woke me to this about wearing shoes.

But let me start at the beginning.

Yesterday I interacted with someone who put me on edge. The type of individual who raised a red flag for me as a sexual abuse survivor. He made me very uncomfortable as we rode the elevator, I found myself putting objects between us and guarding my answers to his questions.

Protecting myself, that’s what I was doing.                           

Wearing my shoes.

Big Girl shoes.

Safe Girl shoes.

I wore these shoes with confidence.

I felt grounded in my present.

No more barefoot used and tossed away.

No

This is the pair of shoes I found myself wearing yesterday…

Fearless ones.

Beautiful to look upon as they were embellished in Christ like  gemstones

Yet, well made that they not give.

I wasn’t afraid.

That’s big for me. I have had a lot of opportunities to fear these last few months, and I have found myself on the side of that fear way to often.

I have coward and shrunk back, cringed and claimed false blame…

Yesterday was a no more kind of day…

A shoe one.

I am allowed to guard my self,

I am secure in Christ and that means a world of difference, all the difference,

Yet, only if I shod myself in this truth,

I do.

 

With gratitude, in awe, and in praise.

Oh, I shall still enjoy strolling barefoot from time to time, splashing through the puddles..

Smiling as I do so, 

For these feet were made for walking and that’s just what they do!

Only, now they go with truth and love,

Now they walk with God.

Gotta go, it’s raining!

I am lost in the vastness of me

Having traversed all there is

was

Teetering on the edge

of what

I do not know

for sure

I simply feel

…

This so new to me

I wish to know

How do I circumvent this abyss?

Do I fall over the edge

as I did yesterday?

Is that ok?

To be lost to the point of self

Gibberish the only language found

To flow so easily

To feel right

Even as one doesn’t know what one is saying

…

I fell into this abyss

I stand at its depths looking up

A swirling sea around me

Confusion

Words lost

For letters surround me

Floating

Sinking

Drifting away

…

I struggle to not embrace this end

for that is what it feels like

…

I found my form the other day

Felt the contours of shape

The freedom of thought to give movement

I wondered as a babe must

In the finding of toes

The flutter of eye lashes

Delicately felt upon my palm

I found my creation

…

Now I needs must turn to my Creator

In this my endness

Physical form spent

Emotions lost

Eyes to tear

no matter if I wish otherwise

An undone done

…

So I shall float within this ocean

Resting on my life ring

God

To weary to cling

To spent to move

To done to care

…

I leave the caring to Him

…

I leave the supporting to Him

…

The holding

…

or not

…

for perhaps it is in the sinking that healing will come

…

for these waters are His

…

perhaps there is strength to swim

…

 

in Him

ALIGNING STRENGTHS

“Put your back into it!”

“Foot Forward, be ready!”

Watching your footwork, blocking, parring and rolling along with slipping and countering are all moves studied by boxers.

Moves that help them discover their weaknesses and find their strengths.

Defensive moves to offensive.

Fascinating stuff to read that God is using to teach me too.

I woke this morning with something someone said to me once rolling around in my thoughts, “I need you to align your strengths with the Lord, too, not just your suffering”

I truly had no idea what this meant, read and reread it so many times, asking God  to show me.   

He has and is..    

Today He gave me this vision…

“My Guardian Angel, Angels actually, for I am surrounded of them. How they fight for me. I see them now, in battle, defensive with swift swords and eyes ablaze. They never falling back in fear or doubting the victory will be theirs. The stand tall and true, backs straight and shields ready. Fear does not control them, they know they have the advantage, the power from on high.

Thing is, I see myself as well, and it isn’t a pleasant picture. I am in the center of my defenders, cowering. Down on my knees, head hid as I peek out. I am not viewing my wall of defense as that, rather I shiver, looking for a break to happen. I expect them to fail, am sure that I will be breached.

“You are wrong!”, my Heavenly Warriors shout at me with a mere look.

I cock my head and ponder this, looking down upon me. I see this armor of God I am clad in. It has seemed so heavy that I was unaware of what this new weight was. Not the pain and abuse gone by, as I thought, but my new me clothed to fight. I simply haven’t been putting my back into it, I have been choosing to hide.

“Do it!” the clanging of their swords command.

Uttering a plea, to my Commander and Lord Jesus Christ, for strength, I rise, slowly yet steadily to my full height. I am taller than I  can fathom, the mighty coursing of my blood sounds in my ears with each sure and steady beat of my heart.  It was I, my fear, that was the breach. Victory is what is happening around me. How I long to taste it as well, put an end to fear and doubt, being used and discarded.

My Lord nods at me as He motions to the fray.

A smile plays around the corners of my mouth as I nod back.

I am ready, I have strengths that are more than my weaknesses and an army to fill the gaps as needed. This battle was fought and won. upon Calvary, the blood shed for me then ensures my path onward, upward and forward.

There is no going back unless I choose so.

I don’t, not anymore.      

I kneel, one last time, here amid my Angels. I kneel in surrender and humbleness before my Lord. I bend knee to He who is worthy and gratitude. I kneel with strength and assuredness as He helps me rise and says, “Go forth, Tammy Anne of God, you are mine, freed to win.”