I AM…

06be4661-c33a-4889-b427-0872bf7c503f

I am the rainbow these days                                                                                                                   The color and beauty of my emotions vibrating                                                                                   They spill upwards for all are fading                                                                                             Flashbacks of feelings separate from the happenings                                                                         No more do the dragon monsters of then wrestle caged within me                                         They have been slayed                                                                                                                 Replacing the darkness with the brilliant light of present                                                                 I live in the light                                                                                                                                           Breathe its sharpness in to cut out the then                                                                                           I exist from inside out spewing forth life                                                                                             I’m among the living now                                                                                                                       No battle scars as they burst out of me                                                                                                   They do not matter for they are not who I am                                                                                       They are not my reflection                                                                                                                         No.                                                                                                                                                                 My me is a rainbow of truth now                                                                                                               My me is light and love and now                              l            My me is gloriously free                                                         I am me                                                                                     I am alive                                                                                   I am color and light and love                                                                                              I am a rainbow flowing free                                                                                                                                                     

 

“First star I see tonight…”

In the daytime there are stars in the heavens, but they only shine at night.
And the deeper that I go into the darkness the more I see their radiant light.
So let me learn that my losses are my gain;
to be broken is to heal;
that the valley’s where Your power is revealed.

-Bob Kauflin, “In the Valley”

I have been on a journey of late, one of finding me some more. It has been hard and long, arduous. I feel the stretching of it still, like aches in my emotional muscles. A good ache even while it throbs.

Oh, how it does so! So many emotions have been awaken these last weeks. Those that have tripped me up and some that I never knew existed. To much feeling so oft, so much I was left floundering in them , too many I told a friend.

“Yes, she said.”

Can we sit with that a while? She said, “Yes.” to me.

“Yes,” you have feelings. “Yes,” they are a lot. “Yes,” you are allowed to feel. “yes,” and it’s ok.

To me, Tammy.

It was like a get out of jail free card.

In abuse feelings aren’t recognized except as an opportunity to turn them again us. Our abusers to make fun as they taunt us. To laugh and heap on more abuse if we show our true feelings. Hence we learn to bottle them up, hide how we feel and even lie to ourselves.

But, she said, “Yes.”

This a key that gave me so much. Bolstered me to say to myself, “Yes!” as well.

“Yes,” I feel this, “Yes,” these feelings are mine, “Yes,” I can accept them, process them and grow from this. I can be me unto more, rather than less.

Best part? She didn’t leave me hanging, wondering, “Ok, so they are mine and too much, but now what?”

I never was taught how to feel, to soothe myself or face the avalanche of them. My abuse taught me to cringe from me, run and hide, never ever to face them. I didn’t have a gentle touch or soothing tone, no looks of love or open arms… how was I to learn what all love shows when no love was there?

I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

No fault of mine, just truth.

Now, I know. I am finding the stars in the night that are showing the way to the light of day.

This friend shared with me one of the biggest and brightest stars gifted to us of God, the truth of our being free to choose to give the emotion to God. To turn to my loving Abba, Daddy, and say, “Here, Papa, I am feeling too much. Please hold this awhile and help me be ready to take it back when you have readied me. Soothe me, Lord, and prepare me. Strengthen me by Your example and be my strength then.”

He did.

He always does.

He is my present that He be my past, fill in the voids and blanks.

I able to live in my today for He is here, my past faced for He was there, my future safe for He is already there as well.

Past, present, future…

all mine to live.

13227160_1328033217213663_1755416035764852480_n*Psalms 19 1-2 God’s glory is on tour in the skies,
    God-craft on exhibit across the horizon.
Madame Day holds classes every morning,
    Professor Night lectures each evening.

3-4 Their words aren’t heard,
    their voices aren’t recorded,
But their silence fills the earth:
    unspoken truth is spoken everywhere.

4-5 God makes a huge dome
    for the sun—a superdome!
The morning sun’s a new husband
    leaping from his honeymoon bed,
The day breaking sun an athlete
    racing to the tape.

That’s how God’s Word vaults across the skies
    from sunrise to sunset,
Melting ice, scorching deserts,
    warming hearts to faith.

7-9 The revelation of God is whole
    and pulls our lives together.
The signposts of God are clear
    and point out the right road.
The life-maps of God are right,
    showing the way to joy.
The directions of God are plain
    and easy on the eyes.
God’s reputation is twenty-four-carat gold,
    with a lifetime guarantee.
The decisions of God are accurate
    down to the nth degree.

*https://www.biblegateway.com/

 

 

THIS THING CALLED LOVE

11889665_10153614648263628_8693939157186261461_nI am noticing people of late, those that are in love.

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

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

It is a give and not take.

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

It is more of a glowing.

I like what I am seeing and learning.

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

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

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

Smiles shared, tears caught, linking happening.

I like what I am finding.

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

But they are cleansing tears, emptying kind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am in that circle now…

here to stay.12512348_10206181947967938_6088364209707407907_n.jpg

 

 

NAMING AS IS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

images

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

bru·tal
ˈbro͞odl/
adjective

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

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

He answered me, as He always does.

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

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

My childhood was brutal,

Yet, so was my Lord’s crucifixtion..

and…

look at How God uses that!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE VALLEY OF THE LULL

k

 lull

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

“I AM ME”

This is an article from Committedtofreedom.org I rarely repost something from someone, but this so slammed into me when I read it, I simply had to share! So much me is in it. Simply read and be impacted. God bless.

The Still Photograph
Part of our Short Story series during the holidays. We all need a break, and this month, we’ll be sending you short stories instead of articles. We hope they will inspire, encourage, and strengthen you. Let us know what you think.
Mrs. Periwinkle had cornered yet another member of the Community Ladies Guild to show off her daughter’s latest school pictures.
“Isn’t she adorable? Isn’t this just about the most precious picture you’ve ever seen?”
She never gave anyone time to respond to those questions, she simply moved on to another person, then another, loudly declaring the perfection of the photograph. Her daughter, Penelope, was a kindergartener when that particular picture was taken.
Mrs. Periwinkle loved it so much that she had it enlarged, then had several dozen copies of the photo developed. She glued some onto cardboard boxes, which she positioned throughout the house. One was set on the kitchen table at Penelope’s place. One on her pillow where she usually slept. One on the couch, one on the porch swing, and one in the passenger seat of the family car.
She also glued a flat wooden stir stick on the back of one so that she could carry it with her where ever she went. It was a kind of photograph puppet.  In social settings – such as parties or meetings – she included the picture puppet in conversations and soon, people spoke to the puppet, just like Mrs. Periwinkle did.
She even made one of the pictures into a mask and commanded that the little girl wear it at all times. Eventually, Penelope stopped speaking and became as silent as the still photos that surrounded her.
As children will do, the girl grew and changed, but the only “Penelope” her mother and friends saw was the kindergarten schoolgirl in the pictures mounted on boxes, a wooden stick, and a mask. Years came and went. The kindergarten photographs had become cracked, faded, and frayed. Nevertheless, Mrs. Periwinkle ignored the signs that time had passed or that changes were taking place.
One morning, Penelope – who was now a young woman – looked at her mask’s reflection in the bathroom mirror. For quite some time, she had noticed a growing irritation where the mask rubbed against her skin, but she ignored it. But this particular morning, the irritation had become very painful – unbearably painful, in fact. She squirmed her forehead, tightened her eyes and lips, scrunched her nose, and massaged her scalp, hoping to silence the inflammation, but nothing helped.
She became more animated in attempt to find some relief and without thinking, without hearing her mother’s instructions to keep the mask on, she ripped it off on an impulse. She howled with relief, as her face was flooded with air and light. For the first time in over a decade, Penelope wore no mask. No longer was she frozen in a time and space that was no more. She splashed her face with water and then dared to look in the mirror. What she saw took her breath away, because she saw – herself. Changed.
No longer a static being, she was vital and free from that still photo that masked years of growing and becoming. She ran into the kitchen and ripped the still photo from the box, then to her pillow and the couch, the porch swing and the passenger side of her mother’s car. She tore them all to pieces then put them in the trash can.
Somewhere in the yard, she could hear her mother chatting away with someone. Her voice grew louder as she came closer to the house. Closer. Closer. Penelope opened the front door for her mother, who was – at that moment – having a lively conversation with the picture puppet. Mrs. Periwinkle gasped, shocked to see a strange young woman standing in her foyer.
“What are you doing in my house? Who ARE you?” she demanded.
Penelope grabbed the picture puppet from her mother’s hand and tore it to pieces, letting them fall to the floor. She then leaned in close to her mother until their faces almost touched.
“I. Am. Me.”

LITTLE DO THEY KNOW

11062710_10206864696310140_157823479911732291_n

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

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

I think they don’t.

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

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

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

So it was today.

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

Simple everyday acts to most, so amazing to me.12208744_10153124353932371_5603922646054908791_n

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

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

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

No, this is different.

10670081_10153769347959916_6536740439532913225_nI simply cry at the way it felt to feel safe in a father figures arms, safe in the world, loved right, mattering as someone not something.

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

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

We will keep you

We will love you

And we will give it all with Christ like love

Safe

Secure

And as love is meant to be

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

imgres

DAUGHTER OF THE DAY

 

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

1 Thessalonians 5:5-8 (MSG)

ddec1873af74721f9d8b2c7c1b45a250Daughter of the Day, I heard this phrase at church last week. It struck me then and has been with me since.

Daughter of the Day.

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

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

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

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

No more.

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

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

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

Now?

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

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

Tammy of God, awakening to all that living is.

 

CORE REACTOR

thI realized something today about me.

It began with getting dressed this morning. As the weather changes and I find myself aware of the cold as part of my healing I want to dress warmer. Perhaps some long sleeves or maybe even a sweater, I will think. I have some, ones that have caught my eye because they are purple, some because they feel so soft and I imagine how comforting it would feel against me. I get them, but wearing them, that’s a whole nother story.

You see, I panic. Become all frantic and paranoid. Just have to rip them off or I can’t breathe. Then I stand there lost, fighting for control. striving to ground myself to here and now. For to be warm is just one of the many things I was denied for a period of my childhood, that now I struggle to accept. I can know I am cold while convincing my body I am not. Safer to not need and such.

12047694_1678262548866737_11054093_n

 

Or so it can seem. But I am healing enough that I know when I am perceiving wrong sometimes, knowing needs to lead to changing. So, today, I spent time with Abba asking Him to help me understand this panic and apprehension. To understand that I may overcome.

He opened my heart to the truth of these feelings. Helped me to fathom that they are being fed of something. One doesn’t just panic unless they are panicking about something. I wondered, why am I apprehensive.?

What is the core reactor issue.

Then I knew. It is fear. Plain and simple. Fear.

This surprised me, I thought I had this fear thing under control. I mean, I don’t run away and hide like I used to. I share with people instead of keeping things bottled up. I trust my Lord, I feel safe in my home, safe in the life God has given me. “How can this be fear,” I thought.

But Abba always bring me to truth, so I needed to stop asking how and denying the fear. I need to turn to my Jesus and give the fear to Him.

I know this won’t be easy, I know I will need help and will have to push myself. Time to thank the Lord for my body and the way He created it, hear and feel what it is telling me. Treat it with love and respect. Dress it warm, even wear shoes more.

Allow my Abba to change my core, to one that learns to love me as my fear is yielded to Him.

His Peace the only kind of core reaction I desire.

REIMAGINE YOU AS YOU!

I don’t often reshare, but this has so much truth that I am. Praying it blesses you as much as it did me.

Reimagine You as YOU!
To be subjected to sexual trauma and abuse distorts how you think about yourself. If you had these experiences when you were growing up, you came to conclusions about your value. If a predator or a passive bystander didn’t value you, your boundaries, or your humanity, it’s pretty easy for you to believe that you have no value or personal rights. If you had these experiences after you became an adult, where you once might have felt empowered and able to take care of yourself, you now know that you weren’t as strong or empowered as you needed to be.
These experiences shape – or re-shape – how we think about ourselves. We hear it from survivors all the time: “I feel as if part of me died.” The actions of predators and the inactions of passive bystanders twist in your mind and heart until you begin to see yourself as they saw you. You begin to value yourself as they valued you. Their warped disregard for you and your well-being often translates into a kind of personal derailment of the life you should have been able to live.
The tricky part of recovery is to be able to pull apart the tentacles of lies that have attached themselves to your soul. It is to untangle the deception and free yourself from its grip.
Think about how the actions of the predators and passive bystanders communicated their view of your worth. Now, ask yourself if you believe THEIR value system. If you can see it for what it is – that you have accepted THEIR twisted reality – then you can insist on redefining yourself in ways that are true to your value and personal rights.
Here’s a fact: they were wrong. Not only in what they did – their actions – but in how they devalued you. They were wrong. They were wrong, wrong, wrong! Got it?
So, take their definitions of you and dump them in the garbage where they belong. Take the time to think about yourself, untethered from their warped ideas. Reclaim you. Reimagine YOU, not as they saw you, but as you see – or want to see YOU.  And remember: “Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live with all your life”
(Golda Meir).
Written by Sallie Culbreth and Anne Quinn
©2015 Committed to Freedom / STAARR – Sexual Trauma and Abuse Recovery Resources