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)





Yesterday was the hardest, hard beyond hard, intense to beyond bearing…

So it seemed,


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

ww                      kk

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.




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..


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.

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.




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?


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.




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



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


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.




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.






I woke up hidden today

A step backwards some would say

Not I

Not my Abba, either

Not that it couldn’t be

It could




Yet, only if  I


to allow the enemy to use it so

Free to choose

How I move forward in the waking



Will I be full of fear that I found myself here?

Will I panic and yield my day to chaos in the process?

Will I make more of it than need be?

I could

IMG_2502-1                                                                                                                                          I used to…   Oh, so easily


I won’t

My Father, God, won’t let me… If I choose Him


I do

For He has chosen me

Since forever

He will bind up my enemy

He is setting me free

His peace to settle me

His love to envelop me

His presence felt

He forgives my frailty, for He understands

Simplified man from point to point

He embraced humanity, that He would


He uses my hiding instead

To show me

How far He has brought me

For in this hiding

I know where I am

He keeps me,  me

For I am His

He alone

My hiding place







 (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!


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.

 10341684_10204099627359785_5596163897082503779_n          10339663_10204099632519914_5187086645211589758_n         10402619_10204099637600041_7304311157893089637_n        10363535_10204099654480463_3969430593340144882_n

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.



ss     6a0147e2c133c1970b019b01ea4fc9970d-800wi


How I feel my healing these days tied to blankets. I don’t really know why, perhaps it is part of my past abuse perhaps it is no more than a visual perception, doesn’t really matter why. No, what does is that I follow this awakening with God, allow Him to use it to further my healing.


I am struggling with this one a bit of late, sometimes i feel so twisted up in this word, literally to awaken with an urge I can’t resist… one to fling the blankets froml me in panic. They to feel like a weight that brings a memory unwanted. It isn’t panic for say more of a sheer panick. I just want to jump from my bed and find a corner to curl up within myself. How easy this would be physically, to allow my body to do just that.

How complicated this would make my healing.

I would be free of the BLANKETS, but in doing so I would find myself wrapped rather in the abuse memory. I would lose myself to then and become twisted within my then lost to my now.


Other times I awaken to a desire to pull them close, to snuggle beneath them as I smile and relish the safety and warmth they hold. Melt into the comfort of a bed on a cold night, clouds of pillows beneath my head, I safe and warm, inside.


Each of my children have a blanket, their eyi-eyi, as they called them. The one that they would hold close and snuggle, as they literally loved it. Yet, it wasn’t the blanket they really loved, no, rather the memories linked to it. This to be the first thing I wrapped them in as we left the hospital, used to tuck them in night after night that they settle for no other. An object that symbolized comfort and holding, love.


So, my waking makes sense. My desire to run even. For as much as I hated sleeping out in the cold I also hated beds. The one to leave me blanketless as the other wrapped me in using. Either I had no blanket or I had ones I didn’t want.




I share this because I want you to know that it is ok to remember. It may feel like we are then when we are now, as long as we focus on the fact that we aren’t, remember only long enough to yield it to God. Cry out His name when times like this hit, that He replace what your fear is.



When this hits of late, when all of me wants to fling the blankets far and even go outside to find safety I implore my Lord to be my Blanket. To cover me in the imagessafety that is mine now, wrap me tight in memories of love present and swaddle me in His truth. Keep me present in all things as He frees the past.


running and hiding feels like it is the easiest thing to do, going back in my memories easier than pushing forward. But that would be like of old, it would leave me cold and desolate. The cold embraced in the freedom it brought me from the bed only to leave me shivering and alone. Not a good choice at all.


I must choose.         


Do I truly want to hang on to my ratty, tattered blanket of then?



Or, find the Blankie God desires to wrap me in.




I choose now, by His power and with His help. I choose to cling to present when past comes knocking. I do cast aside the blanket of then, it nothing but a tattered and smelly thing. Trash.


As I pull my Christmas blanket gifted to me, close, I close my eyes and snuggle down in with Papa’s arms wrapped around me.


How I see the tapestry of the Blankie, my eyi-eyi, He is patching together just for me. Each piece, a fabric of the material, used in my healing. Names stitched upon some, pictures upon others. Letters used to spell out the truth of His word, those that have awoken me spiritually.

my BLANKET of COLOR…                                     FearNot-CANVAS_original

COLOR lived NOW…




gods-hand-CK06_lI have a dilemma this morning…

I am so full, of so much, that I hardly know where to begin. I could spend the whole of the day pouring out my heart, how I smile as I type that one! My heart is overflowing with so many feelings, the wheels of my mind turning faster than my fingers can type! I am so joyously, wonderfully and completely overwhelmed that I feel I shall explode. Oh, how I see the confetti that would rain down if I did. Every piece a precious memory, beautiful to behold.

Pause with me a moment, as you gather your own heart full of memories within your palms, ones that are cupped with in your Father Gods, and toss them high. Tilt your head back and simply feel the cascade of them as they rain down upon you. Be sure to look into Abba’s face, for there you will see the reflection of your smile in His.

imgresI am overwhelmed with memories, ironically to love it, for a sluicing did Papa God and I go. dd

A sluice room is one in which disposal of waste occurs in hospitals, nursing homes and such. How I feel that these last 36 hours God has been filtering all of me through just such, emotionally, spiritually, physically. Likely in ways and on planes I cannot imagine. All of me to be purged.

I have been sick, so very sick. Came home from work and stayed in bed for a day and a half. Miserable as the chills came and went with no control over my body, weary to the point of barely being able to move. I would awaken drenched, blankets and all, or on fire, lips parched, dry. Sleep to claim me within minutes, as the sickness ran its course.

This morning God showed me this, He was purging me. He Who uses all things to my redeeming used this illness. For as a child being sick was not allowed. No, one was still expected to carry on. The punishment sure and swift should you dare to rest. Not so this time around, so many people stepped forward to carry my load for me. Checked in to be sure I was alright, telling me to sleep, to take care of myself, to rest and heal. Each act and word the water pouring over me as the waste of then was washed away.

My illness has run its course, I am feeling much better today. I am not “100%” but that’s ok. These same folks will help me as needed, just as I would them. It feels the same for my abuse. As though the remembering part, that needed so I could process what it left behind, done.

rr     imgres     11     cupped hands    images

I see myself standing beneath the cross of Christ as it is overshadowed by the throne of God. The glory and majesty to shine forth that the sacrificial blood and it mix in a healing cascade. How I feel it as it washes over me, the slime and mud to ooze out of me. I throw my head back,  spread my arms wide and close my eyes. The gate beneath my feet opens, I safely planted on the Rock of my salvation, as the grime is washed away.



I am more than smiling, I am singing…

a new song is within my heart…

the whole of me, set free…

the me of god.




Oh, how our adversary the devil loves to play dirty. To attempt to smash our hopes and dash our dreams as he does all he can to use the very victory we dare to claim against us. How he is doing so even now with me these last few days.

Sometimes I think he is so dumb that he thinks he is gaining the ground he lost by taking me back into that part of my journey.

I write about time with Abba being most precious to me daily, especially on Monday’s. What does Satan do? Intensifies the battle so he feels like he is getting all the attention, snippity thing that he is. Well, he’s wrong. Oh, he has my attention alright! My spiritual eyes are on him, just not as he fools himself into thinking they are. No, I am rather, on alert. Level 1, defcon, is where his attention puts me. I open my mouth wide to speak victory, out loud, to he and his minions. I rub it in their faces til they are the ones grimacing. Not me!

Yes I am tired, but from fighting, which beats giving up and wearing out from despair and defeat. You bet he has my full attention, I watch in prayer to be aware of his every tactic that I am equipped for victory. I have come to far to give an inch, God has brought me this far and isn’t yielding His claim on me. It is I who must claim this truth and leave the battle with Papa at times.

How once I move beyond the feeling the truth of this hits me. Such happened to me this morning, one where I woke from a troubled night full of warfare. How I felt it physically and spiritually. Another area of victory I shared that Satan is trying to convince me isn’t mine. It sure felt that way this morning, has for the last few days. Each day the feeling to be there anew, each day for God to show me another path to victory.

I smile as I type that last bit, the very thing my enemy uses against me my God uses for me. Causing good to sprout from evil, as only He can.

Which brings me to the title, “Head, shoulders, knees and toes.” A portion of a children’s song.

This morning was so much harder than I have endured for quite some time. I am finding my mind less focused as old triggers and reactions hound me. I am feeling the weariness of facing them down time after time through the day, insomnia to find me once again from time to time. Night mares of the past abuse my dreamscape.

This morning as I stood beneath the warmth of a shower, I said to Abba, “Daddy I am so tired. I feel so then and want to stay now, help me please. Show me what I can do as my part to heal some more. I am yours, all this turmoil I release to you.”

His response was swift, He had only been waiting for me to ask, “Remember, My child, your Rite of Acceptance on Sunday. Claim it anew, here and now. Do so as oft as needed, out loud, reminding all the forces of evil whose you are, Mine!”

So I did.

You see, on Sunday, a group of us was presented before the church. We to acknowledge out loud our intention to continue on            t                                                            in our journey of learning and embracing the faith. The most amazing part was this, our sponsors to stand before us and as                                                                               Father spoke, to make the sign of the cross over the corresponding area.

“Bless these, eyes to see You God… bless these ears to hear…. these lips to speak… heart, shoulders, hands and feet… all to be the Lords, to serve, follow, uphold, carry. Basically… all of me, not mine, but His.

So this morning, I did just that anew. Cupping my hands to catch the water I prayed as the water poured down, “Father, God, my eyes are yours, purify the memories that seem seared on their backsides.” Then I “anointed” my eyes with the water. A symbol of a true anointing with oil, but every bit as meaningful between me and God. I did this to my mind, ears and lips. I claimed the anointing power of the Holy Spirit to be more than the journey.



I was refreshed this morning, yes,  I ran into my “wall” again on and off through out my day.

Thing is even my day is not mine, that too, I dedicate to my God.


So, my wall isn’t the wall I feel it is.

No matter how I feel

My wall is no more than the dust beneath my feet…       ccc

Dust created as it came crashing down…

Dust worth nothing more than to be shaken off my feet…

Behind me.

imgresI am walking forward, where the vast, open and wide future beckons.

What wall were we talking about?


Ecclesiastes 11:7 (KJV) “Light is sweet, and it pleases the eyes to see the sun.” 

Psalm 20:6 (NIV) “Now this I know: The Lord gives victory to his anointed.
He answers him from his heavenly sanctuary with the victorious power of his right hand.”