MOMMA MARY

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

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

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

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

 

A Child’s Angel

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

So one day (s)he asked God:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mommy

(Author Unknown)

 

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

My how He did.

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

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

Slowly the need to leave, as I realized,

“I am loved…

I am home…

I have a Mother…

her name is Mary.”

 

?

image002I am the desert, thirsty, dry, parched

For what I know not

I feel the heats intensity

The beating down of wanting

Weighted of the longing

Sourced out

I am the desert lost within myself

North to lead south as east confounds west

Spinning compass gone haywire

Which way is right?             image004

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

Where am I in all of my confusion?

Or am I really quite the opposite?

Am I the dessert?

Am I so full that I am drowning?

I feel so much

I know not where to go with it

What to do

It is as being lost in a desert of an ocean

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

Storm brewing as I die of this thirst

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

image008Who will love me?

Pull me from these depths

Save me

Simply show me how    image008

Life was meant to be

I understand why children need so much repeated soothing

For I am as one

Not knowing these feelings      Darkly-Satirical-Paintings-11

Alone and flooded

Drowning

Collapsing in upon myself

The sea to swallow me whole

That I lie upon its bottom          imgres

My desert returned

I have learned to forgive

I have found loves touch

Still I float

Forlorn

Forgotten

Alone

Left

Not outside

Rather inside myself          image011 image012

USED UP

I am worn and weary of lateth

So full when I want to be empty

Have less at the very least

So much of life is more

more than I expected it would be

more than I know how to

Find or be

Though I try ever so hard

I find my safety used up

llThat I yearn for it as a child does their snatched blankie

I flounder for the contentment a place gave me

Searching for what is lost

Even I to feel used up

Done

I cry

I want to be small

To simply have less

 

Selfishly I want more of me

For me

I cry tears of remorse

Of forgive me Abba

for even as I know these feelings are mine

I know they are not to claim

You see, a placejj

A person

A memory

A time

None of these are mine to lose

Not if I am used up of Abba alone

Not while He is my safety

He my home

He my blankie

My Security

Make it so Papa, God                 Please             Make             it             so.

 

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?

 

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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.

Maailman-valkeus-266x300

 

 

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.

MONDAYS WITH ABBA

“Here I am, Lord. It is I, Lord. I have heard You calling in the night.”

c

How the words from this song ring true for me. You see, I do hear my Lord calling in the night. How refreshing this is after the part of my healing journey that was full of night after weary night, awake and remembering. Sleep impossible.

Some may want to question, “Why didn’t God just help you sleep?” I will tell you why, because He was helping me to heal. Healing is hard work, it takes courage and stamina, an I am going to keep on keeping on attitude. Doesn’t mean we won’t mess up and get off track, we aren’t perfect, after all.

No, but it does mean we choose to stay the course, hang on in faith,  for dear life,

as we invite God to be our preserver.    o

Abuse is a deep and ugly wound, it doesn’t matter if you experienced a single episode, multiple or a life time. For each and every one  of us it is the same battle, the same tools required. There is no number factor in rape, neglect, pain and using. Pain is pain, wounds are wounds and healing is what’s needed for all. Think about it, if you have a burn on your body versus multiple ones you still need to handle those wounds the same.

imagesSo, I rather thank God for those long nights full of insomnia, I thank Him that He used them to draw me to Him. That in my weakness He was my strength, in my panic attacks my air and always stayed up with me. Childish thought I know, God is always awake, yet it warms my heart to think of it this way. No matter how I felt, what I was remembering, I thanked Him for being there, for He was.

How the memories assailed me at times, how I fell flat on my face before Abba, while He healed my wound a bit more each time. For He was and is the salve we need. His presence, the bandage that wraps us tight and keeps us together. Reading the Word is the washing of the wound in cleansing words, prayer to overshadow our abuse as His truth shines into the depth of it.

Time with God.

Sitting with our Lord.

Inviting the Holy Spirit in.

Healing comes no other way, for it is truth alone that sets us free. What greater truth is there then that God loves us so very much, that Christ died for you and me and that we are blessed with the power of the Holy Spirit.

If… we but believe, ask and seek.      d

I challenge you to this, carve out your time with God, you won’t regret it. The healed you deserves this, will thank you one day when you are on the other side of your then. Now is a beautiful place full of hope and peace, joy and laughter, living and loving, life.

For me, it is Mondays that I and my Papa, God, have our “dates” on. He is with me always as a good Papa is, but this is our special time. I hold Monday mornings for our time, schedule nothing before 11 o’clock.

My Monday’s with Abba, full of prayers raised to heaven as I listen for and hear His voice. A time of learning from the Word as I grow and heal, blossom.

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My God calls me in the night, wakens me as He tucks me in and makes sure I am safe and secure. Reminds me of how much He loves me and whispers to my heart, “I am waiting for you, my girl, sleep well that you wake refreshed.”

How I do, how I smile as I turn over…

My nightmares vanquished,

His true love, my awakening.

pretzelWISE

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Ephesians 5:1-3 (MSG)

“Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents. Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not  cautious but extravagant. He didn’t love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. 

Love like that.”

God woke me up to a truth last night, a really big one. One that many will scoff at while others may not understand how I didn’t know this. The difference lies in the experience of it that has been yours.

Simply put it is this, “Sex is not love.”

How obvious this may seem to most, but trust me if you are a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, it is far from obvious. Imagine if you are a babe, one who is left alone, neglected and forgotten. Only the basics of your needs provided for, and those for appearances sake alone. You are bathed quickly, clothes put on you harshly. Deposited to your playpen roughly as a bottle is dropped in, almost as an after thought. You sit alone with no toys or a blanket. You know no different, for this is your existence.

Now, imagine this same child being sexually abused. The only touch they receive, while being fed lies. Falsehoods of, “I love you, I care, let me show you how much.”

Sex becomes love, love becomes sex, for both were built off of the lust of the abuser.  f  Any thing but true love, for… true love is pure and good, selfless and caring, safe and whole, sacrificial not taking.

Then they grow up, begin to realize this is not how other families are. Yet, what can be done, you are the child, they the adult… the parent. Your family seems so “normal” to everyone else, you would be the one blamed, after all that’s another of the lies you have been fed.

So the circle of your abuse goes round and round until your emotions, perceptions and thoughts are left a twisted mess… the straight and true line of love as it was intended to be having been fed on the yeast of sin, creates one confusing mass.

Love not given one side of this twist, in that you crave the touch the infant never received, needed then for soothing and security.

Sex given, to twist itself around this need, that the sex becomes the love and the love sex.

God has given me the picture of a pretzel to help me understand how these two are twisted from my abuse.

He is also waking me up to His intended purpose in His creation of me, for I am no different from the rest of humanity. No, it is the sin lived out to me that is the cause of this feeling.

So the pretzelWISE untwisting begins.

I feel how I stand in the Shadowland in this awakening, the fog to roll out a bit. The ground more visible that I walk upon. Not just hearts, but ones that are cemented in place with truth. My true Father, God, knows the fear is there, so holds me close.

You see, the letting go of the only perception of love you know is scary, even in the knowing it wasn’t true love.

For to let go means there is that moment in between…

The one called faith…

Faith that God has you…

Faith that He will catch you…

Faith that His love is enough…

To make it all alright,

aAs perfect love casts our fear.

I John 4:16 (MSG)

“God is love. When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us.                   This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and mature in us.”

 

 

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.