I DON’T WANT TO

I didn’t want to go to Mass today, not at all. I woke full of flashback invaded dreams, remembered. I so wanted to curl in upon myself, drown in going away. Away from remembering, away from life. Stay in bed and pity my past me. To go where the victory of Christ is partaken of? Nope.

I wanted to be done, this journey seems never-ending at times. I will have my footing, then, wham, bam, I am down again. Down of heart and weary of mind. The final count to feel welcome. 1…2…3 she’s out!

Yep, that’s just how this morning was.

I was so lost in the feelings, the overwhelming emotions my child me suffered that my adult me wanted to throw in the towel.

I dreamt of the using and taking, the abuse rained down on me… thing is that wasn’t what was tearing at me when I woke. In my dream I was sitting alone, after, so forlorn. I was crying, not because of what was done to me, rather, because I couldn’t seem to dress myself. My clothes were inside out, a jumble at my feet and it felt as though I simply couldn’t do it. I cried that no one was there after, that I was so alone not only in the abuse but further abused as those that could and should have, didn’t as well.

Rather turned a blind eye, a deaf ear and an indifferent heart.

So, I had me a good cry to the Lord and begged Him to help me care in the now. He did, I still didn’t feel it, but He reminded me that I needed to go. I imagine my Guardian Angels wings whooshing as they propelled me forth. I certainly didn’t go in my own power.

Mass. The remembering and celebrating of the greatest sacrificial gift, ever.                                                              Mass. Where my Christ endured for me the very thing that I feel this day, betrayal.                                                                                               Mass. He to suffer again and again what was then for me in the now, flashbacks.                                                                                                                                                                                   Mass.

One of the hardest yet most helpful things for me as I heal has been to revisit the abuse and see my God there. Find how He was with me, yield the whole truth of then to Him that He be with me now as He was then.

This is what I was really wanting to hide from today, I wanted to give up and not do my part of the work in my healing. Imagine if my Lord had given up? Had called forth all of Heaven to save Him from the cross? He could have, yet He yielded, “Not my will, but thine be done.” He uttered to His Father.

So, there I was at Mass. A quivering, emotional mess, kneeling and crying, oh, so tired.

Then the homily was shared. Father to talk of how much we have to be thankful for. The beauty of life and creation ours to see, hear, experience.

It hit me then, all along I was heard, I was seen, someone was far from indifferent.

God my Father, Mary my Mother and Christ my Brother and Savior not only were then with me but are now.

I am home, now is safe, I have oh, so much to be grateful for.

For I am no longer then.

 

 

 

DROWNING

So much assailed me yesterday. So many emotions found me. I was upon the sea of them, floundering unto drowning, lost.

There was no life boat, nothing to cling to that I could see. How could I ground myself if beneath me was simply more tears, if the sadness was drowning me, if the anger stirred up the storm even more and I was all alone in the vastness of it?

I was drowning I was sure. For each time I opened my mouth to call for help it seemed naught but more of the emotions rained down to be swallowed til they were swallowing me.

I wanted to simply let go and sink. To stop fighting and just be done. I didn’t care of the depth was dark and lonely, to let go would end it I was sure. I could journey elsewhere and forget, even if elsewhere required drowning, so be it I thought.

Yet, I couldn’t. Not the real me deep down inside, the part of me that knew  my God was in this storm. To believe He is in control of all my life means the storms as well.

So…

I turned my face to the Heavens as the circumstances of this storms creating pelted me, the lightning flashes of the anger I felt seemed to be striking me as I was tasting the salt of the tears I was drowning in. I let them come. I accepted the anger as mine to sit with. I acknowledged that I had a right to be so, while asking the Lord to cleanse me of it.

Then I realized that the sadness was being fed of the anger. That they were the stirring of this storms wind and buffeting. I though I will drown from within so I must let it all out.

I cried, again and again as my body curled in upon itself and wept with me.

I was adrift and alone.

I was lost and weary.

I wanted to stay this way and wait for a hand to reach for me, for someone to come and see me and be with me, I wanted a person to know.

In my wanting of this I was really doubting God was enough. I was saying I know you  are in my storms, Lord but I need more that just you.

How human of me.

God wasn’t having any of it.

He pursued me, all the while, He does that.

Finally, from the depths of my despair I looked up.

Finally, I cried within, “Save me Abba.”

He scooped me up, pulled me close and sat with me. The storm raged still, but seemed less pelting for He overshadowed the brunt of it. In His embrace I found it was ok to cry. It was safe to feel the sadness and that the anger wasn’t worth the energy it pulled from me.

Now I am beyond this storm, and I am ok.

Alive and still me, weary but safe.

It isn’t the end of the world, the sadness is real but the rainbow is already spreading across the sky. Tomorrow is real and beckons, one that God already has in His hand.

So sadness and anger, all of the emotions of life are safe.

As long as I stay and walk hand in hand with my Master.

 

 

I am…

I do….

I will.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THIS THING CALLED LOVE

I am noticing people of late, those that are in love.

The way love works for them, the give and take of it.

I find that I am learning it isn’t what I was taught.

It is a give and not take.

Yes, there is the getting, but it comes in giving, not demanding or grabbing with expectation.

It is more of a glowing.

I like what I am seeing and learning.

I notice the gentle leaning in to experience the others space.

Full attention given to the other, because they want to truly hear what is said,k share in the excitement and enthusiasm of the words.

There is a body language here of communicating and concern, of care and true devotion.

Smiles shared, tears caught, linking happening.

I like what I am finding.

Yes, I cry about it, I drip drops of, “What would it be like if that were mine?”

But they are cleansing tears, emptying kind.

Ones that wash out the memories so I am empty of past for God to fill with present.

Perhaps someday I will find this, someone to hold as precious to me. Who will see me as such too.

I have my Lord to love me like this, I am so in love with Him. I know He understands my desiring a person as well, while also knowing He is my enough.

I never really had love as it was meant to be. Mine was using and discarding, taking with no return. But that was then and is no more.

I chose to see now, to marvel at the love that surrounds me. To embrace friendship, family ebb and flow, to give love as it was designed.

Love finds its way around, it is a circle of life…

I am in that circle now…

here to stay.

 

 

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!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NEVERLAND

i is stuck in Neverland these days

a place where it feels safe to hide

safe from the big people

secure from problems to big

where one can fly away at whim

laugh and play with abandon

forget

Neverland

but  i know it is not real

rather a trap

a secret room in a game of hide and seek

me searching for me as i hides me

Neverland is more confusing than it is worth

pretending doesn’t make it real

i don’t have pixie dust to fly away from here

to lift me from this trappedness i feel

i scared to fly into the storm that separates

at the swirl of the feelings that sent me here

i find i can’t hide from them no more

i want to go home to me

i want to be brave and tell them to people

leave behind this ghost town of what was

so i need a ride

i never had rides before that i knowed where there

i do now

so to stay is to live a lie

so goodbye Neverland

i am journeying home today

starting even if it takes me awhile

my fairy wings are the back of m guardian Angel

i can even lie there and rest while the storm rages

my angel fights my Captain Hooks for me

i just trust

and believe in my momma Mary and papa God

remember that they want me home

they never ever wanted me to leave

goodnight Neverland

the land i was never meant to live in

home is where i belong

home in Jesus is where i am going.    

 

LITTLE DO THEY KNOW

“Mary, did you know?” is one of my favorite songs. Did she know what her baby boy was destined for? Did she know how her, “Yes, Lord,” would resound through the ages? Did she know?

I wonder that today about folks around me. I wonder, “Do they know how much they have touched my heart?” Do they know that some of the simplest acts they extend to me reach to the depth of my heart and soul?

I think they don’t.

How could they unless they understand the horror of my childhood?

To understand is to have lived it and I am thankful they haven’t.

Yet they know some, and in that knowing they show and give me so much. Often unknown to them.

So it was today.

A hug, a kiss upon my cheek and an, “I love you,” that, totally took me by surprise. Stopped me in my tracks as I looked in wonder at him.

Simple everyday acts to most, so amazing to me.

You see, my earthly father is dying soon. I have been confounded by this, confused in how I feel. Sad at times, for what should have been as a daughter, while empty at others because of what was that shouldn’t have been. Mostly I simply accept that he is passing as all humanity does and I pray that God grant him mercy.

Then today, someone who is a Father to my friend,  treated me with the dignity a father should a daughter.

I am proud of myself that I don’t feel all like I am his daughter, that was a struggle for me in the past. The overwhelming desire to claim someone for my Father and Mother.

No, this is different.

I simply cry at the way it felt to feel safe in a father figures arms, safe in the world, loved right, mattering as someone not something.

I feel as though I can’t say this right, I do know, I feel it right.

It is as though it is an it’s alright your daddy is leaving, others here and now, your family of God, we have you.

We will keep you

We will love you

And we will give it all with Christ like love

Safe

Secure

And as love is meant to be

http://fascinately.com/feel-good/2014/11/incredible-performance-of-mary-did-you-know-will-get-you-in-christmas-spirit/

IN THE TELLING

So little can seem like so much sometimes.

This morning does. A simple dream, puzzled together of past and present, like an awakening.

These times are like rising from a fog, limbs heavy with the emotions of the memories as I must choose.

There are forces within, battling, you see. Past and present swirling about, vying for me.

These are the hardest of hard times for me. How I simply want to go back to sleep, to hide in slumber.

Waking is never easy these days.

Grounding myself in the present is what is needed, the only way out.

Abba is always with me, I have all of my heavenly family watching me and drawing me out, I see them and love them, beckoning smiles and arms held open, inviting really. I always look to heaven first, my true home, my heart’s sanctuary. This is my present truth, that which floods me with emotions that are present to drown out past, the angels sing the glory of our Lord, and I can open my eyes.

Yet, humanity is still where I am, thought I would love to sit at Heavens gates all the day, life calls. I am reminded, as I turn to embrace the day that my Abba has purpose for me here, I am honored to fulfill it and serve Him.

How much I am loved and seen and heard.

Heard being the one He is waking me too now, In the telling.

Someone told me a few days ago that I, “Can tell them anything, that they want me to.” How I have sat with these words. Such a flood of emotions flows from my head to my toes as I savor the, I, Tammy, can tell.

In the telling shall be no more secrets…  no more hiding… no shame,  no matter the horror…

In the telling I can free the nightmares that haunt me, loose the bonds of then… find release

In the telling lies are shattered that the truth of them burst forth, shiny and bright, dispelling darkness.

I feel these words to such a depth, “I can tell.” It is as a vanguard before Satan that shouts, “I am telling! You have no power, for Jesus loves me and has given me someone to tell! Go away, I am washed clean in the blood of Christ, I am innocent. It wasn’t my sin and it won’t become it!”

In this someones listening I am safe, heard and free of blame. I am given understanding and love, seen as a person not an object. I find that I have a voice, my feelings matter, consequences are not the end of the world and won’t bring me harm.

In the telling I feel so shattered sometimes, the gentlest of touches to take me by surprise, voices to reach me in the fog, as I find it clearing.

In the telling the fog will lose…

For In the telling…

I am rising with the Son.

^“So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God’s chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ’s love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture:

They kill us in cold blood because they hate you.
We’re sitting ducks; they pick us off one by one.

None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I’m absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.”

 Romans 8:34-39 (MSG)

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.

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