LET

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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.

imagesI 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

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so i let go…      and…      let Him

FLASHPOINT PARADOX

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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.

images                                                                       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.    images

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.”

8c4a93083c4981b64506bb3b6dd43de9Oh 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.m

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…

kkI 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

DILEMMA?

ddHow sleep evades me of late, night after night, I to wake in the wee hours, the Sandman having abandoned me. I lie there awhile, relaxing, not minding the night, embracing it. The light of the moon illuminates my room, a beam from heaven bathing me. I close my eyes and simply feel.

Every pore of my body to tingle, much as a sleeping foot does when waking up. I like this sensation. I used to not even be aware of the surface of my skin, I had learned young that it was easier to block the pain if it didn’t exist. Waking black and blue with no reason was gentler to my mind. Not feeling spared my heart, not seeing my vision, not hearing my memories.

Blank, that’s what I was.

A black hole unto myself.

rrExcept with my Papa, God. He who shone His heavenly lights upon me in the cast out loneliness of my nights. How I would watch the clouds pass across the window of my tin home, imagine lying on the puffiness of them as the wind brushed my cheek, stroked my hair and the very heavens sung me a lullaby. It is ironic that the safest memories I have of my childhood are the ones of when I was put out in the trash to sleep.

Yet, is it so ironic?

Not really, not knowing my Abba the way I do.

He who loves me so much that He helped me find good in the sin of mankind committed against me.

As my loving father, to care for me against all odds.

I smile even now, much as I did in those days, wrapped of tin but kept in love and heavenly peace

So goes my nights, my dilemma tied to my abuse, those days to free me these days

The awakening to the cold I endured causes  me to sink into the  blissful warmth of my blanket snuggled tight.

I smile as I view the moon, peace to settle as I recall all those nights of sitting with Papa, God.   oo

Thus my dilemma…

I am awake and drawn to prayer, to simply sitting at the feet of my Jesus.

My body to struggle to sleep for it so longs to feel

To leave this earthly plane and sit with my heavenly family

Shall I sleep, shall I go home?

So I ask God to work His purpose in my wakefulness as I settle deep into my bedding, my body still, mind clear, heart open

No dilemma here, simply His leading

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How He brings me near, I to sit oh so close as His robes billow about me, enfold me in peace and comfort, I am oh so safe here. We looked into each others eyes, a gaze of understanding, of the intimacy of knowing what the other is thinking without words spoken. For, round about flutters an endless legion of the heavenly host. The wind of their fluttering wings to fan the flames of love I have for my Papa. As we rise, it is to welcome Momma Mary, to complete that which was lost to me. The colors shoot abut, each star streaking by in brilliant array, all of heaven rejoicing, unbelievably, yet true, over me.

I was lost you see, now I am found.     bb     images

 

 

 

SPIN ME THIS

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Spin Me This

 

Lies and deceit

Oh so carefully spun

Shroud me

Cloak me to hide me

That I be the one wrong

 

imgresSlithering within

And without

Wrongness

Upon their hearts and minds

Paints my me

Stains my heart

 

Am I not more

 

I am

Yet

I feel less

 

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I am the calories they consume

Feeding their desires

Ravished

Exposure al I lived

Cold embraced

That it not exist

 

Fearful of light

Never the dark

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I teeter

 

 

High above

Perched

Fearful and sad

Upon the tightrope

 

 

The clowns below

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Watching                    Smiles painted on                      Waiting for my fall                        Eager for it                     They will consume me                       They always do

 

 

I wake

It is but a dream

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One lived before

Tied to now

 

Now

 

I am weary from my minds traispsing around in then

After finding my way out of now

 

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I am lonely

And hungry

For truth

 

Tears falling

 

 

 

 

 

As I am small

Before my Father, God

My Mother, Mary

I kneel

 

Reaching Homeward

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Heavenward

 

 

Hold me, please

My heart screams

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Let me feel arms around me

More than a hug

A never letting go

 

Tight

Lasting awhile

Sitting besides kind

 

Claimed to keep

Wanted just because

 

I am me   images

MORE THAN TITTLES

 

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Lines and dots, Tittles really

eeStrokes of pencil to paper

Nothing in of themselves

Seemingly random

Making no sense at all

Until one learns

Comes to see the clarity that exists among them

 

Right slash

Left Slash

Across

Now an “A”

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A whole new world opened

Words found

Expression freed

Mind given a place to roam

Eyes deciphering

Tongue tasting the flavors of the sounds

All coming together

Expanding the world of that child

 

 

imagesI too am learning

Finding the shape of sounds

The moreness of the letter upon the page

Absorbing the meaning

Exploring the context

Savoring the beauty of words

 

xxConsonants free of harshness

Vowels shushing

Whole words settling

Sentences safe

Paragraphs Helpful

A story being written

 

Sensible perhaps to only me and my Abba

“That’s your chair. Come on in. You can fall asleep at my door anytime. Breathe. I am Eva. You are safe here. PT. Here have another egg. How can I help? Come on in. Whoever hurt you so m much is not here. Give me your hand. We found her. Who let the dog’s out! Thank you for allowing me to be there for you. Everything you write is amazing. You are a writer, put your name there. You are more than then or them, you are now and you. You don’t need to do it alone. Breathe. Rest. And that’s okay. Call me, anytime. Too funny. What would you like for breakfast? She’s cold. Come here. Of course that scared you. What’s that you’re holding? Thank you. Breathe. You work so hard at healing. Tell me. Breathe. It’s all ok.

The beginning paragraph found…

tumblr_mir09xqbdM1rq27uuo1_500The story only beginning

 

Hope blossoming from the seed of being seen

Love watering the journey

Belonging taking root

Firmly planted in the love and light of life

Tammy Anne of God

“TELL ME”

250px-Synesthesia.svg“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”

images“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   imgres

 

Listen for Me in thengg

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

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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.

bbGod 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,      stock-photo-happy-words-info-text-graphics-and-arrangement-concept-on-black-background-word-clouds-89073730

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

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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 mem

Little me came knocking yesterday

To finally find the door open

To be welcomed home

No knocking needed.

SEEING ME

44621_1553498846236_758440_nI 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.

ccMy 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. th

Thank you Abba and Momma Mary for showing me this.

HIS NOT MINE

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PHOTO CREDIT: MIKE AND EVA STOUT

Could we with ink the ocean fill, And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill, And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above, Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.

 

I thought about the title for this writing awhile, which is unusual for me. I even pondered what God was calling me to say, which is even more unusual. Yet, what He is telling me to share is so very special that it begs such.

His not mine, Him not me.

This is what is on my heart.

Something I have known in the words to have experienced in real-time yesterday.

His love, not mine.

Him in control, not me.

A lifeline of sorts to my emotions, to understanding the current mountain before me, to finding the pathway up

It feels like I have been stumbling around so much of late, allowing the smallest pebble to be this giant boulder stopping me in maturing with my Papa, as He wants me to.

Then yesterday someone shared something with me and oh how Abba used that

“Let love lead,” they said. “Just as you did with your children when raising them, love overcame the handicap of your childhood abuse, of having never been parented yourself. Allow love to help you now, follow it.”

Trust me, this was the last thing I wanted to do. My flesh preferring to cling to the emotions I felt I had found and had a right to… anger fueled, selfish “buts,” full of, “This person did this, that wasn’t fair,” and please pity me whining.

Yet, truth was in these thoughts my friend shared, and one thing this journey has taught me is that truth is worth pursuing not only to know, but to do… the rewards to far out weigh the cost.

Really, the cost is usually about me anyhow, my eyes on self making a mountain out of a molehill.

So God helped me as I determined to love, through His power and indwelling with in me.

“God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.”  Ephesians 3:20 (MSG)

Love when I felt wronged, love when it seemed too much, simply love, His love to flow through me not mine.

Godly love with a selfless giving, one that looked at the other and desired God’s graces poured out on the situation, His everything to flow…

thHis words, not mine….

His perspective, not mine…

His patience and peace…

His everything..

th

I changed, overnight it feels, in the giving selflessly in obedience…  He has given me so much,

His peace is what I feel even as I think on that which caused so much distress yesterday and many weeks leading up to it.

 

Makes sense really,

for I am…

His, not my own.

I am, Tammy Anne of God.

Refrain:
Oh, love of God, how rich and pure!
How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure—
The saints’ and angels’ song.

                                                               Verse 3 was penciled on the wall of a narrow room in an American insane asylum by a man said to have been demented.                                                                  The profound lines were discovered when they laid him in his coffin.

http://library.timelesstruths.org/music/The_Love_of_God/