One of the things I do very well is hiding and suppressing all forms of emotion which could cause crying. But, I'm sitting here tonight unable to contain the tears. After spending the entire evening in the kitchen, I really had no reason for crying. Cooking and baking makes me happy, so the tears were unexpected.
Most of what is going on in my life is making me angry, not sad. What sadness in my life was so overwhelming that I could only cry?
The past couple weeks, I have been organizing meals for a couple having a baby and had spent the evening cooking for a couple who recently had a baby. I had filled out cards today for a couple friends who just had babies or are having babies. I get online tonight and see updated pictures of babies.
Babies! I have cried plenty because everyone around me seemed to be able to have babies. This was incredibly different.
Kent and I tried our first few years of marriage to have a baby and failed. As soon as we gave up, I found out I was pregnant with twins. At about 12 weeks, I lost the first baby with a spontaneous miscarriage. The second baby continued to grow and remain healthy. We knew the baby was a boy. I could feel our little miracle moving around and we were excited. We had bought a stroller, toy box, clothes, blankets and found a baby bed.
Our little baby was due just a month after our 3rd anniversary. At 23 weeks, I got very sick, not eating or drinking much for a week and thought I had a stomach bug. Kent was out of town and I was worried that my dehydration would not good for the baby. I headed to the hospital, thinking I would get fluids and meds and head back home.
The details are still a blur to me once I got to the hospital. What I do remember is the doctor saying he was so sorry and telling me that I should hold my baby boy just once. After several hours and losing my baby boy, I drove myself home.
My little boy, so tiny and lifeless in my arms, has remained a clear picture in my mind. I have hated the doctor who insisted I hold him and at times have been thankful he did. While we never decided on a name, I was fond of Tyler. That five minutes of saying hello and goodbye to my baby boy was the shortest and yet longest five minutes of my life. I love that baby boy in a way I cannot explain.
I'm not sure I really talked to anyone about what happened and certainly never felt any emotion over it. I think the only thing I felt was empty.
The following year, I would go through another familiar experience. I carried a baby girl for nearly 22 weeks. The pregnancy was very high risk and ended after taking a nasty fall down half our stairs. Again, I went through the loss alone while Kent was out of town. Again....no emotions and no talking about it.
Three more times during the past 10 years, I would go through similar experiences all at 10 weeks or less. No talking, no emotions. By then, it was completely routine. I never got my hopes up and ever held onto any hope of being a mother.
As I sit here, I know that overwhelming sense of sadness is the loss of each of those babies. Each tear I cry is for each "mommy" I'll never hear and for each lullaby I'll never get to sing. My heart is broken and I realized I have suffered great losses. Those weren't just things, those were my babies...my children...my hope of grandchildren...my legacy. I have suffered great loss and I am finally heartbroken.
I don't know why now I am finally feeling this loss. I have enough going on in my life that I don't need to have an additional thing to feel emotion over right now. I've asked many times tonight, "Really, God? Right now? Are you sure it has to be right now?"
I suppose there is no good time to grieve losses like this. Just as I suppose that there is nothing which helps this make sense. With no hope now of ever having a child, I find it even harder to understand why this is my store and my heart is broken.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
If Ever There Was....
a blog post that needed a neon flashing sign warning the reader of true feelings being expressed in colorful terms, this is it! All joking aside, if you think this is going to be a poetic outline of how God is good to me or some lesson I've learned...then you might want to go surf the net for something else.
The number one point to all that I have to say, is this...I'm PISSED OFF!!!!!!
Let me clarify my feelings about this a little. It has nothing to do with my lack of faith or belief in God. I believe God knows how I feel. AND...before anyone dare judge me or offer some half witted advice to "just hang in there, it'll get better", I'd invite you to take a walk in my shoes for a couple days.
First, I haven't had my keys or drivers license for nearly 18 months. That means that I must rely on somebody else to get wherever I need to go. That means that I am at the mercy of everyone around me to do things that I have to do. Don't get me started on being able to do things I want to do or just feel like doing. If I need a gallon of milk or a can of hairspray, I must find someone who can take me to get those things. That tends to get difficult when I have a husband who works two jobs.
And why does my husband work two jobs? I haven't worked in over 18 months either. No drivers license, no car keys equals no work for me.
Before you get the wrong idea, let me clarify something else. I haven't lost my driving priveledges because I got a DUI or any trouble at all for that matter. I'm a level headed, grown woman. So why don't I drive?
The truth is that for years and years I lived through unbelievable amounts of abuse. I say unbelievable because out of all the people I have met who have abuse in their background, I've never heard anyone share anything remotely close to the horrific things I went through. In fact, they are things that make the national news when they happen or you would only dream of seeing in horror movies.
Because a bunch (and it is likely on the 100s) of assholes have decided to do horrific things to me throughout my entire life, I developed a shitty disorder. I describe it that way because there is no cure, no medication and at times, it's like living in an alternate universe.
Not only do I not drive or work, I get very little time alone. And why? Again, thanks to this shitty disorder, I am often a danger to myself. If you know me personally or spend any time with me at all, don't freak out. I'm not a danger to others. Sadly, what a bunch of assholes did to me makes me want to take it out on myself and nobody else. And if you think that I am a huge danger to myself, just know that I am monitored by those few people who are closest to me. I live in a house where all glue, toxic liquids, knives, medications, and anything dangerous or ingestible are locked up. That would fall into the list of things that makes my husband's life shitty having to live with someone like me. But that's another blog post all together.
Another reason I'm pissed is because I live in this little bubble where few people even know what I go through on a daily basis. A few more people are aware of the disorder and even people closest to me struggle to understand it. Even I struggle to understand it. I think it's easy to hate myself when I don't understand myself.
Why do I live in a little bubble? For my own protection is what I say. But really, I stay in it out of fear. Let me tell you something. I lived in a bubble for over 30 years. In that bubble, I told everyone that I grew up in a normal family and life was great. Yes, that bubble was the bubble of bullshit.
My bubble wasn't to protect me, it was to protect everyone who hurt me. It was filled with shame and those words that I heard over and over..."you can't tell anyone or you will get in trouble." See what I mean, it was bullshit. It was shame. It was lies.
The bubble now really is the same thing. I stay in the bubble so nobody knows. If nobody knows about my disorder, then they don't have to deal with it. If nobody knows, I don't have to worry about them treating me differently. If nobody knows, then I don't have to worry about being misunderstand. Again...another bubble of bullshit.
It's a bubble of hey I better keep this to myself so that nobody else has to deal with or accept something that is hard. Staying in this bubble is again living with the shame of what someone else did to me. I didn't cause this disorder. I didn't want it and wouldn't wish it on anyone. But I have to hide it now? That's bullshit!!!!
Since I am primarily at church or home, those most likely to be told or find out are professing to be Christians. God says in the bible to take care of those who are sick. If someone can't handle a diagnosis (and yes, that's an admission that I am sick but not in a physical way), then why should the burden of that fall on my shoulders? If a Christian cannot handle being around someone with an illness, mental or not, then that's between that person and God...NOT me. That's a reflection of how they love people, not on how unlovable I am.
While I'm right there, I'd like to add that just because someone is sick doesn't give anyone a green light to take advantage of them. If you've ever taken advantage of someone with a decreased mental capacity or incapable of taking care of themself, then shame on you. I realize the majority of people haven't done this, but I've been on the receiving end of this and it only makes life even more jacked up. For people who do hurt those who are already hurting or sick, then all I have for you is a giant middle finger.
I live in an isolated bubble because of what all the assholes have done to me, keep getting hurt physically, emotionally, and mentally, and I've had basic adult priveledges taken away from me for months and months. Put yourself in my shoes and tell me you wouldn't be pissed off.
I don't drink or do drugs, although I think that would dull the pain and pass the time. I don't intentionally hurt others, even though the walls I put up to protect myself may make me seem like I do. People have been pointing out to me for the past two months that I seem sad or depressed. NO SHIT! Looking at the big picture, being pissed off is all I have right now to express just how frustrated I am.
The number one point to all that I have to say, is this...I'm PISSED OFF!!!!!!
Let me clarify my feelings about this a little. It has nothing to do with my lack of faith or belief in God. I believe God knows how I feel. AND...before anyone dare judge me or offer some half witted advice to "just hang in there, it'll get better", I'd invite you to take a walk in my shoes for a couple days.
First, I haven't had my keys or drivers license for nearly 18 months. That means that I must rely on somebody else to get wherever I need to go. That means that I am at the mercy of everyone around me to do things that I have to do. Don't get me started on being able to do things I want to do or just feel like doing. If I need a gallon of milk or a can of hairspray, I must find someone who can take me to get those things. That tends to get difficult when I have a husband who works two jobs.
And why does my husband work two jobs? I haven't worked in over 18 months either. No drivers license, no car keys equals no work for me.
Before you get the wrong idea, let me clarify something else. I haven't lost my driving priveledges because I got a DUI or any trouble at all for that matter. I'm a level headed, grown woman. So why don't I drive?
The truth is that for years and years I lived through unbelievable amounts of abuse. I say unbelievable because out of all the people I have met who have abuse in their background, I've never heard anyone share anything remotely close to the horrific things I went through. In fact, they are things that make the national news when they happen or you would only dream of seeing in horror movies.
Because a bunch (and it is likely on the 100s) of assholes have decided to do horrific things to me throughout my entire life, I developed a shitty disorder. I describe it that way because there is no cure, no medication and at times, it's like living in an alternate universe.
Not only do I not drive or work, I get very little time alone. And why? Again, thanks to this shitty disorder, I am often a danger to myself. If you know me personally or spend any time with me at all, don't freak out. I'm not a danger to others. Sadly, what a bunch of assholes did to me makes me want to take it out on myself and nobody else. And if you think that I am a huge danger to myself, just know that I am monitored by those few people who are closest to me. I live in a house where all glue, toxic liquids, knives, medications, and anything dangerous or ingestible are locked up. That would fall into the list of things that makes my husband's life shitty having to live with someone like me. But that's another blog post all together.
Another reason I'm pissed is because I live in this little bubble where few people even know what I go through on a daily basis. A few more people are aware of the disorder and even people closest to me struggle to understand it. Even I struggle to understand it. I think it's easy to hate myself when I don't understand myself.
Why do I live in a little bubble? For my own protection is what I say. But really, I stay in it out of fear. Let me tell you something. I lived in a bubble for over 30 years. In that bubble, I told everyone that I grew up in a normal family and life was great. Yes, that bubble was the bubble of bullshit.
My bubble wasn't to protect me, it was to protect everyone who hurt me. It was filled with shame and those words that I heard over and over..."you can't tell anyone or you will get in trouble." See what I mean, it was bullshit. It was shame. It was lies.
The bubble now really is the same thing. I stay in the bubble so nobody knows. If nobody knows about my disorder, then they don't have to deal with it. If nobody knows, I don't have to worry about them treating me differently. If nobody knows, then I don't have to worry about being misunderstand. Again...another bubble of bullshit.
It's a bubble of hey I better keep this to myself so that nobody else has to deal with or accept something that is hard. Staying in this bubble is again living with the shame of what someone else did to me. I didn't cause this disorder. I didn't want it and wouldn't wish it on anyone. But I have to hide it now? That's bullshit!!!!
Since I am primarily at church or home, those most likely to be told or find out are professing to be Christians. God says in the bible to take care of those who are sick. If someone can't handle a diagnosis (and yes, that's an admission that I am sick but not in a physical way), then why should the burden of that fall on my shoulders? If a Christian cannot handle being around someone with an illness, mental or not, then that's between that person and God...NOT me. That's a reflection of how they love people, not on how unlovable I am.
While I'm right there, I'd like to add that just because someone is sick doesn't give anyone a green light to take advantage of them. If you've ever taken advantage of someone with a decreased mental capacity or incapable of taking care of themself, then shame on you. I realize the majority of people haven't done this, but I've been on the receiving end of this and it only makes life even more jacked up. For people who do hurt those who are already hurting or sick, then all I have for you is a giant middle finger.
I live in an isolated bubble because of what all the assholes have done to me, keep getting hurt physically, emotionally, and mentally, and I've had basic adult priveledges taken away from me for months and months. Put yourself in my shoes and tell me you wouldn't be pissed off.
I don't drink or do drugs, although I think that would dull the pain and pass the time. I don't intentionally hurt others, even though the walls I put up to protect myself may make me seem like I do. People have been pointing out to me for the past two months that I seem sad or depressed. NO SHIT! Looking at the big picture, being pissed off is all I have right now to express just how frustrated I am.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Time After Time
Throughout my life, no matter what circumstance I was going through, I could always find music that I could identify with or take something from that made me feel a little better. I enjoyed listening to it. Loved singing to it. And, taught myself how to play it. I've long since given up the dream of being able to continue teaching myself to play it. But I still had to listen to and sing.
For me, the darker the time I am in the less music I listen to and lately...I've listened to none of it and I am silenced. It is hard to believe that something that has carried me through so many horrible and discouraging times is no longer of any help.
As I began to think through my silence, I was reminded of a song that got me through many long nights. "Time After Time" by Cindy Lauper may not sound like the kind of song that stays with you for over 25 years, but it has.
In the early 80's, music videos were on every Friday and Saturday night. I think that is where I heard the music the first time. Even at that young elementary age, I listened to the words. I don't know what the real meaning behind this song is, but I know what it said to me. To me, this was about a person who would never turn their back on me. Someone who cares about me so much that they would never walk away and never think about me again. And, this opened the door to the thought that someone could be big and strong enough to take me out of the house I was in or protect me from being hurt.
I know this was my way of fantisizing about something which could never happen in the hell I was living in at the time. That really wasn't the part of this song that meant the most to me.
Without giving too much information, I can say that it was not uncommon for me to have to spend hours comforting two younger brothers. I often saw in their faces the same fear and pain that I felt but tried to hide from them. I always felt like I had to hide my fear and pain to give them hope that things would get better.
I remember holding my shaking, crying little brother in my arms one night. I was all of 10 years old and doing my best to comfort a 5 year old who was fearful we might not live. I needed him to know that I was not going to leave him and that I would never go too far away. I needed him to feel the safety I could not.
As I held him tight, I sang the song to him. I remember very clearly fighting tears back. I too was fearful that this would never be true for him either.
When I moved out of my parents house at 18, my brother went through a very angry phase. I know he felt abandoned by me and understandably so. I had left him when I had always promised not to. Again, I found myself knowing I would never turn my back on him completely.
It has been over four years since I have talked to either of my brothers. From a distance, I still sing this song for both of them. Maybe not for what the song means, but what it meant for me. I still want them protected and cared for above anything else. Through the hurt and pain that has separated us, I still care deeply about them and only want the best for them. My heart breaks for all that distances us and I weep for all that has been lost between us.
But.......They can still look and find me, time after time. If they fall I'll be waiting, time after time.
Time After Time
Lying in my bed, I hear the clock ticks, and think of you
Caught up in circles, confusion is nothing new
Flash back, warm night, almost left behind
Suitcase of memories...
Time after
Sometimes you pictured me, I'm walking too far ahead
You're callin' to me, I can't hear what you've said
You said, "Go slow, I fall behind"
The second hand unwinds...
If you're lost, you can look and you will find me,
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting,
Time after time
I turn, my picture fades, and darkness has turned to grey
Watching through windows, you're wondering if I'm okay
Secrets, stolen, from deep inside,
The drum beats out of time...
If you're lost, you can look and you will find me,
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting,
Time after time
If you're lost, you can look and you will find me,
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you, I will be waiting,
Time after time
Time after time...
For me, the darker the time I am in the less music I listen to and lately...I've listened to none of it and I am silenced. It is hard to believe that something that has carried me through so many horrible and discouraging times is no longer of any help.
As I began to think through my silence, I was reminded of a song that got me through many long nights. "Time After Time" by Cindy Lauper may not sound like the kind of song that stays with you for over 25 years, but it has.
In the early 80's, music videos were on every Friday and Saturday night. I think that is where I heard the music the first time. Even at that young elementary age, I listened to the words. I don't know what the real meaning behind this song is, but I know what it said to me. To me, this was about a person who would never turn their back on me. Someone who cares about me so much that they would never walk away and never think about me again. And, this opened the door to the thought that someone could be big and strong enough to take me out of the house I was in or protect me from being hurt.
I know this was my way of fantisizing about something which could never happen in the hell I was living in at the time. That really wasn't the part of this song that meant the most to me.
Without giving too much information, I can say that it was not uncommon for me to have to spend hours comforting two younger brothers. I often saw in their faces the same fear and pain that I felt but tried to hide from them. I always felt like I had to hide my fear and pain to give them hope that things would get better.
I remember holding my shaking, crying little brother in my arms one night. I was all of 10 years old and doing my best to comfort a 5 year old who was fearful we might not live. I needed him to know that I was not going to leave him and that I would never go too far away. I needed him to feel the safety I could not.
As I held him tight, I sang the song to him. I remember very clearly fighting tears back. I too was fearful that this would never be true for him either.
When I moved out of my parents house at 18, my brother went through a very angry phase. I know he felt abandoned by me and understandably so. I had left him when I had always promised not to. Again, I found myself knowing I would never turn my back on him completely.
It has been over four years since I have talked to either of my brothers. From a distance, I still sing this song for both of them. Maybe not for what the song means, but what it meant for me. I still want them protected and cared for above anything else. Through the hurt and pain that has separated us, I still care deeply about them and only want the best for them. My heart breaks for all that distances us and I weep for all that has been lost between us.
But.......They can still look and find me, time after time. If they fall I'll be waiting, time after time.
Time After Time
Lying in my bed, I hear the clock ticks, and think of you
Caught up in circles, confusion is nothing new
Flash back, warm night, almost left behind
Suitcase of memories...
Time after
Sometimes you pictured me, I'm walking too far ahead
You're callin' to me, I can't hear what you've said
You said, "Go slow, I fall behind"
The second hand unwinds...
If you're lost, you can look and you will find me,
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting,
Time after time
I turn, my picture fades, and darkness has turned to grey
Watching through windows, you're wondering if I'm okay
Secrets, stolen, from deep inside,
The drum beats out of time...
If you're lost, you can look and you will find me,
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting,
Time after time
If you're lost, you can look and you will find me,
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you, I will be waiting,
Time after time
Time after time...
Monday, June 6, 2011
Seasons of Change
I'm not sure what this season in my life is called, but I know it is full of changes. Some small, some huge. Some wonderful, some painful. Some intentional, some surpass all understanding. Regardless of the change, it is a change and for someone who does not deal with change well....it is overwhelming.
When I look around my house, almost nothing looks the same as it did a year ago. Good or bad, it has all been changed. Actually, the changes are all good. The means by which they happened have not been so good. Kent and I both got pushed into making changes and purchases for our house that we were not ready nor prepared to make. That along with some major empty promises have brought about abrupt change and left us with so much undone. Now the change is still happening, but I constantly find myself trying to deal with the change of things being completely undone or unfinished.
Even though I haven't worked in 18 months, I officially left my position of nearly 10 years in December. I loved my job and cannot imagine doing anything else. It was a difficult decision, but necessary. That was a change with good and bad, but mostly sadness.
As I look at the past year and the unraveling of my life, one thing I rested in was the idea that I was safe from being hurt in abusive ways. It is a change of how I view my entire life and my idea of safety, when I think about each time I have learned I was wrong about this. I think my first clue that true "safety" from abuse is an illusion was when I was assaulted 50 yards from my front door. My idea of living a safer life only continued to get twisted from there, learning I have been in the hands of one abuser or another often during this time. This realization was one of the more painful changes.
When I think about people who were in my life a year ago and maybe a little longer, I can only a very few familiar faces in all the change. I don't develop relationship easily, so I tend to try to hang onto the good ones as long as I can. I think that is what makes broken relationships even harder to accept. It is another change that is incredibly painful and for many reasons.
Even the past 10 days have been filled with change.
Kent and I were involved in an accident on May 27. Kent hit a car and then we hit a ditch. With the exception of some minor but nagging injuries, everyone was fine. The truck, however, was not. It is a change to not have the truck. It was paid for, didn't have any major issues and was the first truck we had bought together.
The truck is replaceable. Right now, I am not sure that my confidence on the highway is replaceable. I am someone who likes to go. When I am bored, I want to drive or go for a ride. Maybe I am more like a dog or baby than I think sometimes. Up until that day, I would have jumped in a car without much hesitation and been fine to travel all over the country. Not now! I am fearful and have anxiety about many things, but getting in a car was not one of them until now. I don't know how to get on the highway and just be ok. That is a change that I hope does not stay long.
A week ago, we had our lab Soffee put to sleep. By the way, she isn't sleeping so I don't know why they call it that. It is a change to not have her as a regular part of my life. From morning to night, she was a fixture in my life. She often woke me up in the morning, barking at the other dogs or cat for doing something she didn't approve of at the time. She laid on the floor by the tub while I took a shower. I often wondered if that was her way of protecting me. She followed me to the door as I walked out every morning. She often met me at the door when I got home and greeted me with a bark. She always let me know when it was time to eat at night or again when the other dogs were misbehaving. I usually had to wake her up and send her to the bedroom at bedtime. It is a change to have all of those constants one day and have them gone the next.
Best case scenario would be that I either instantly become more adaptable to change or there be no more change in my life. I don't believe either of those things will happen. Maybe I could wish for less painful changes that drain me emotional and leave me brokenhearted. Maybe for now this season could just slow down so that I can catch my breath and assimilate all the changes that have occurred.
When I look around my house, almost nothing looks the same as it did a year ago. Good or bad, it has all been changed. Actually, the changes are all good. The means by which they happened have not been so good. Kent and I both got pushed into making changes and purchases for our house that we were not ready nor prepared to make. That along with some major empty promises have brought about abrupt change and left us with so much undone. Now the change is still happening, but I constantly find myself trying to deal with the change of things being completely undone or unfinished.
Even though I haven't worked in 18 months, I officially left my position of nearly 10 years in December. I loved my job and cannot imagine doing anything else. It was a difficult decision, but necessary. That was a change with good and bad, but mostly sadness.
As I look at the past year and the unraveling of my life, one thing I rested in was the idea that I was safe from being hurt in abusive ways. It is a change of how I view my entire life and my idea of safety, when I think about each time I have learned I was wrong about this. I think my first clue that true "safety" from abuse is an illusion was when I was assaulted 50 yards from my front door. My idea of living a safer life only continued to get twisted from there, learning I have been in the hands of one abuser or another often during this time. This realization was one of the more painful changes.
When I think about people who were in my life a year ago and maybe a little longer, I can only a very few familiar faces in all the change. I don't develop relationship easily, so I tend to try to hang onto the good ones as long as I can. I think that is what makes broken relationships even harder to accept. It is another change that is incredibly painful and for many reasons.
Even the past 10 days have been filled with change.
Kent and I were involved in an accident on May 27. Kent hit a car and then we hit a ditch. With the exception of some minor but nagging injuries, everyone was fine. The truck, however, was not. It is a change to not have the truck. It was paid for, didn't have any major issues and was the first truck we had bought together.
The truck is replaceable. Right now, I am not sure that my confidence on the highway is replaceable. I am someone who likes to go. When I am bored, I want to drive or go for a ride. Maybe I am more like a dog or baby than I think sometimes. Up until that day, I would have jumped in a car without much hesitation and been fine to travel all over the country. Not now! I am fearful and have anxiety about many things, but getting in a car was not one of them until now. I don't know how to get on the highway and just be ok. That is a change that I hope does not stay long.
A week ago, we had our lab Soffee put to sleep. By the way, she isn't sleeping so I don't know why they call it that. It is a change to not have her as a regular part of my life. From morning to night, she was a fixture in my life. She often woke me up in the morning, barking at the other dogs or cat for doing something she didn't approve of at the time. She laid on the floor by the tub while I took a shower. I often wondered if that was her way of protecting me. She followed me to the door as I walked out every morning. She often met me at the door when I got home and greeted me with a bark. She always let me know when it was time to eat at night or again when the other dogs were misbehaving. I usually had to wake her up and send her to the bedroom at bedtime. It is a change to have all of those constants one day and have them gone the next.
Best case scenario would be that I either instantly become more adaptable to change or there be no more change in my life. I don't believe either of those things will happen. Maybe I could wish for less painful changes that drain me emotional and leave me brokenhearted. Maybe for now this season could just slow down so that I can catch my breath and assimilate all the changes that have occurred.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Alonenesssssssssssss
I have two thoughts swirling around in my head that are very different yet lead to the same alone feeling at the end of the day.
In all ways and all times, we are fully exposed to God. We never escape and are never hidden. That is one of the fundamental truths from the Bible that I have been taught and hold onto. Whether I am angry or happy, sin or forgive others, God knows. He knows when I don't understand and He knows when I do but make the wrong choice anyway. He knows all about me, even the intricate details of my life that others don't know. He knows! I have nothing to hide from God.
I also believe this to be true for everyone. If God knows each hair on your head, then He certainly knows the intricate details of your life too.
With that said.....I'll give you something to ponder. If God knows each of those details, why are we so afraid and ashamed of them?
When it comes to difficult and intimate details of our life, we tend to hold those things close....too close. And, why? Because we fear judgement and are ashamed. Why does it have to be that way? Because we are too busy and live with too much fear to allow ourselves to get involved in the darkest, ugliest parts of each others lives. BUT WHY??????
When we don't share who we are, good and bad, with others, then we live with aloneness. If we don't allow ourselves to get involved in other's lives, don't we live in a certain level of aloneness? I believe we do.
That's where I sit with most everyone, alone!
I heard a comment in a Sunday School class this week about how we tend to get involved in each other's lives only when there is an illness or job loss. I've seen this and lived this. But what about all the life that happens in between those times?
Isn't it a good thing God isn't like that? Aren't we supposed to be more like God and less like the world?
In all ways and all times, we are fully exposed to God. We never escape and are never hidden. That is one of the fundamental truths from the Bible that I have been taught and hold onto. Whether I am angry or happy, sin or forgive others, God knows. He knows when I don't understand and He knows when I do but make the wrong choice anyway. He knows all about me, even the intricate details of my life that others don't know. He knows! I have nothing to hide from God.
I also believe this to be true for everyone. If God knows each hair on your head, then He certainly knows the intricate details of your life too.
With that said.....I'll give you something to ponder. If God knows each of those details, why are we so afraid and ashamed of them?
When it comes to difficult and intimate details of our life, we tend to hold those things close....too close. And, why? Because we fear judgement and are ashamed. Why does it have to be that way? Because we are too busy and live with too much fear to allow ourselves to get involved in the darkest, ugliest parts of each others lives. BUT WHY??????
When we don't share who we are, good and bad, with others, then we live with aloneness. If we don't allow ourselves to get involved in other's lives, don't we live in a certain level of aloneness? I believe we do.
That's where I sit with most everyone, alone!
I heard a comment in a Sunday School class this week about how we tend to get involved in each other's lives only when there is an illness or job loss. I've seen this and lived this. But what about all the life that happens in between those times?
Isn't it a good thing God isn't like that? Aren't we supposed to be more like God and less like the world?
Monday, February 28, 2011
Tell Me The Reason
That's a fairly generic title for the content that's filling my head. There are a chain of events that are sitting heavy on my heart. When you don't understand something that happens, it's hard to file it away.
About six months ago, I became aware of a tragedy that hit me so hard that I couldn't bring myself to write about it or even talk about it much. I'm not even sure I can say much about it now beyond just a summary.
When I was younger, I babysat a girl named Kandi and her brother, Jesse. Really long story short, that job ended when my grandma went to the authorities about sexual abuse that was happening in Kandi's home. Fast forward many years later, I find an obituary in a local paper for Kandi. She had been brutally murdered by her husband. Without question, I still struggle with understanding this.
A few months later, I learn that my sister-in-law's brother was killed in an auto accident. The youngest son in a family who had already lost an older sister suddenly at a young age. My brother, who I've always known to be the most sensitive of the three of us, was on the emergency call to the site of the accident. With an upside down truck, I suppose there is no way to really know who you will rescue or recover. It was my brother who recovered the body of his brother-in-law, a kid he watched grow up. It's hard to believe that the young boy I watched wrestling around with my nephew had grown up, was about to become a first-time father and was now gone. I was once again asking myself, why?
Two weeks ago, I saw a news story on the local station about a young lady found dead. Later that evening, I found out this was a young lady from back home. Coming from a small town, there were so many connections to her family through friends and family. Murdered by her boyfriend, I struggle to make sense of why.
This Saturday, I received a message from a dear friend. Her sister-in-law had been killed in a car accident. The wife of one of Kent's friends, this was another young lady that I remember from when she was a baby. Growing up with her sisters, I remember when her mom was pregnant with her. She had grown up, gotten married and had three children of her own, with the youngest turning one this upcoming Saturday. How does this make sense?
I have no place to put this strand of events. There's no file in my wee little brain to put senseless tragedies that happen to young people with so much life left ahead of them.
Saturday night, I broke. I've been told that when you don't understand, you are supposed to turn to God. I just couldn't do that. I think I had a full fit with God over these things. I mean turned away, arms crossed, shaking my head and saying "Nope, God. None of these things make sense and I'm not looking back to you until you explain it to me."
Really, I'm doing that with my entire life right now. Explain it to me because I don't understand. On a very personal level and completely separate from all of these events, I've been knocked down and repeatedly kicked the past few weeks. I think I've hit rock bottom with life. Maybe my fit is more of my way of telling God that if I'm going to make it through, then He's going to have to give me what I need. I know I don't NEED answers to questions, but I do know that I NEED something to grab onto so that I don't end up on that list of tragedies.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
About six months ago, I became aware of a tragedy that hit me so hard that I couldn't bring myself to write about it or even talk about it much. I'm not even sure I can say much about it now beyond just a summary.
When I was younger, I babysat a girl named Kandi and her brother, Jesse. Really long story short, that job ended when my grandma went to the authorities about sexual abuse that was happening in Kandi's home. Fast forward many years later, I find an obituary in a local paper for Kandi. She had been brutally murdered by her husband. Without question, I still struggle with understanding this.
A few months later, I learn that my sister-in-law's brother was killed in an auto accident. The youngest son in a family who had already lost an older sister suddenly at a young age. My brother, who I've always known to be the most sensitive of the three of us, was on the emergency call to the site of the accident. With an upside down truck, I suppose there is no way to really know who you will rescue or recover. It was my brother who recovered the body of his brother-in-law, a kid he watched grow up. It's hard to believe that the young boy I watched wrestling around with my nephew had grown up, was about to become a first-time father and was now gone. I was once again asking myself, why?
Two weeks ago, I saw a news story on the local station about a young lady found dead. Later that evening, I found out this was a young lady from back home. Coming from a small town, there were so many connections to her family through friends and family. Murdered by her boyfriend, I struggle to make sense of why.
This Saturday, I received a message from a dear friend. Her sister-in-law had been killed in a car accident. The wife of one of Kent's friends, this was another young lady that I remember from when she was a baby. Growing up with her sisters, I remember when her mom was pregnant with her. She had grown up, gotten married and had three children of her own, with the youngest turning one this upcoming Saturday. How does this make sense?
I have no place to put this strand of events. There's no file in my wee little brain to put senseless tragedies that happen to young people with so much life left ahead of them.
Saturday night, I broke. I've been told that when you don't understand, you are supposed to turn to God. I just couldn't do that. I think I had a full fit with God over these things. I mean turned away, arms crossed, shaking my head and saying "Nope, God. None of these things make sense and I'm not looking back to you until you explain it to me."
Really, I'm doing that with my entire life right now. Explain it to me because I don't understand. On a very personal level and completely separate from all of these events, I've been knocked down and repeatedly kicked the past few weeks. I think I've hit rock bottom with life. Maybe my fit is more of my way of telling God that if I'm going to make it through, then He's going to have to give me what I need. I know I don't NEED answers to questions, but I do know that I NEED something to grab onto so that I don't end up on that list of tragedies.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Lessons on the Sin of Others
I begin by stating that in no way am I saying I am not a sinful person, because I am. However, I deal with the long-lasting effects of other's sins on a daily basis. In doing so, the waters get a little muddy and I find myself wanting to take on the guilt for another person's sin naturally.
There are many times that I think it would be easier to take the guilt, blame and consequence for other's sins from my past all as my own. Growing up face-to-face with evil, it was built deep into my soul that I am at fault for the sins of others.
As I reflect over the past few years, I see two major events in my life which have began teaching me the right place for another person's sins.
In 2007 thru 2009, I went through a lengthy process with an embezzling boss. That's probably another blog for another day too. Regardless, I immediately took on guilt of her sin. She had stolen over $375,000 over 7 years and had done so by herself. She tried to blame everyone, including me. She even changed her personal credit card info to reflect my home phone number from which I received many collection calls on bad debts.
I spent months beating myself up. Why hadn't I questioned more of what she did? How could I allow myself to trust this person? It had to be my fault. I didn't do enough and it was easy to take the blame.
Looking back, I realize now that it was her sin. When given the opportunity, I did what was right. It wasn't my sin and therefore, I could not take on the guilt of what she had done.
The other event was more personal and more painful, but the lesson was much the same.
This isn't meant as a way to share gossip, but to share the lesson I learned.
I allowed myself to become fast and close friends with a woman I believed to be biblically grounded. The way she presented herself was that of a godly woman who had a sound marriage based on faith in each other and a faith in God.
Not long after becoming comfortable in the relationship, I learned that this woman struggled with sin in the form of gossip. Of course I believed that she hated it, tried her best not to get involved in it and would never "do that" to me. At times, I found myself getting wrapped up in gossip. It would take a mindful effort on my part to not fall into her sin.
As I was learning more about being accountable and holding accountable those you love, I felt very convicted. She was less than welcoming of my thoughts that we should both try to hold one another accountable for this. However, it wasn't an issue I felt needed to end the relationship.
I believed for a long time that my "looking the other way" was what led to trudging through more sin with this same person.
It wasn't long before this woman began talking to me about her personal "affairs" and began trying to use me as her alibi when she would try to sneak off to meet her "friends." While I never allowed myself to get entangled in that web, I found myself in something else I hadn't expected.
There was a great respect I had for her husband as well, how could I now look him in the face?
Once again I found myself taking on the guilt of her sins. She was choosing infidelity and I was taking on that guilt. If I were such a good friend, how could I have not stopped her? I did confront her, but what had I said or not said right? I had to have been completely wrong for telling her that I couldn't befriend her and keep her secrets. But I couldn't do it...I couldn't sit across the table from her husband knowing what she was doing. In her words, I had not been a good friend to her.
Needless-to-say, the relationship broke apart and quite dramatically. She was more than willing to heap all the blame on me and I was willing to take it. I knew I had some how wronged her and I obviously deserved the nasty rumors, snide comments and all out hatefulness she was dishing out.
It's taken several months for me to realize that I did all that I could. By nature, I wanted to accept the blame for the relationship falling apart and for her sins. But I can't. Did I make mistakes in the relationship...yes! But her sin was not my fault and I was not responsible for her actions...not toward me, not toward her husband and certainly not toward God.
I have learned to take what is mine from that relationship and leave what is not. Regardless of what I think, say or do, I could not stop her from taking the actions that she did.
While it may not seem like a huge, life-altering lesson for most people, it will eventually be for me. Learning that I am only responsible for my own sins and not the sins of others is a huge lesson for me. It is getting my little toe in the door of healing.
There are many times that I think it would be easier to take the guilt, blame and consequence for other's sins from my past all as my own. Growing up face-to-face with evil, it was built deep into my soul that I am at fault for the sins of others.
As I reflect over the past few years, I see two major events in my life which have began teaching me the right place for another person's sins.
In 2007 thru 2009, I went through a lengthy process with an embezzling boss. That's probably another blog for another day too. Regardless, I immediately took on guilt of her sin. She had stolen over $375,000 over 7 years and had done so by herself. She tried to blame everyone, including me. She even changed her personal credit card info to reflect my home phone number from which I received many collection calls on bad debts.
I spent months beating myself up. Why hadn't I questioned more of what she did? How could I allow myself to trust this person? It had to be my fault. I didn't do enough and it was easy to take the blame.
Looking back, I realize now that it was her sin. When given the opportunity, I did what was right. It wasn't my sin and therefore, I could not take on the guilt of what she had done.
The other event was more personal and more painful, but the lesson was much the same.
This isn't meant as a way to share gossip, but to share the lesson I learned.
I allowed myself to become fast and close friends with a woman I believed to be biblically grounded. The way she presented herself was that of a godly woman who had a sound marriage based on faith in each other and a faith in God.
Not long after becoming comfortable in the relationship, I learned that this woman struggled with sin in the form of gossip. Of course I believed that she hated it, tried her best not to get involved in it and would never "do that" to me. At times, I found myself getting wrapped up in gossip. It would take a mindful effort on my part to not fall into her sin.
As I was learning more about being accountable and holding accountable those you love, I felt very convicted. She was less than welcoming of my thoughts that we should both try to hold one another accountable for this. However, it wasn't an issue I felt needed to end the relationship.
I believed for a long time that my "looking the other way" was what led to trudging through more sin with this same person.
It wasn't long before this woman began talking to me about her personal "affairs" and began trying to use me as her alibi when she would try to sneak off to meet her "friends." While I never allowed myself to get entangled in that web, I found myself in something else I hadn't expected.
There was a great respect I had for her husband as well, how could I now look him in the face?
Once again I found myself taking on the guilt of her sins. She was choosing infidelity and I was taking on that guilt. If I were such a good friend, how could I have not stopped her? I did confront her, but what had I said or not said right? I had to have been completely wrong for telling her that I couldn't befriend her and keep her secrets. But I couldn't do it...I couldn't sit across the table from her husband knowing what she was doing. In her words, I had not been a good friend to her.
Needless-to-say, the relationship broke apart and quite dramatically. She was more than willing to heap all the blame on me and I was willing to take it. I knew I had some how wronged her and I obviously deserved the nasty rumors, snide comments and all out hatefulness she was dishing out.
It's taken several months for me to realize that I did all that I could. By nature, I wanted to accept the blame for the relationship falling apart and for her sins. But I can't. Did I make mistakes in the relationship...yes! But her sin was not my fault and I was not responsible for her actions...not toward me, not toward her husband and certainly not toward God.
I have learned to take what is mine from that relationship and leave what is not. Regardless of what I think, say or do, I could not stop her from taking the actions that she did.
While it may not seem like a huge, life-altering lesson for most people, it will eventually be for me. Learning that I am only responsible for my own sins and not the sins of others is a huge lesson for me. It is getting my little toe in the door of healing.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
No Words
Warning to the reader...this isn't a happy, warm, fuzzy post about some huge God moment in my life. It isn't a complain about everything that's wrong in my life either. It is a flow of honest emotion about one facet of my life right now.
No matter how hard those around me try....no matter how hard I try, there is a communication barrier between myself and the rest of the world.
Do not mistake that for me saying that nobody ever tries to work through that with me. I think several people do try and continue to try once I have long given up. I know several people around me have tried their best to understand me. But the truth is, how can they?
If I think about a mother who is distraught over a sick child, I could not understand her pain. Why? Because I have never been a mother with a sick child. While some people can identify with some of what I deal with, I know nobody who can truly understand what my life is like. Why? Because they have never been in my shoes. Most of the people around me have never seen or dealt with someone with issues like mine.
Wow...that's a hard one to take. People don't understand me because I'm different. I am not different by choice but by default and I hate it.
So, how do I communicate with people who don't understand? Really, how do I communicate with people when I don't understand?
I would love to be able to tell each and every person exactly what I need so that this season in my life could be made easier for myself and everyone around me. But the truth is, I can't.
Deep inside me is buried an anchor of independence. I must operate in the idea that I do not NEED anything from anybody. If I tell anyone that I need something, then I become dependent on them. If I am dependent on them, then I am at their mercy. I CANNOT do that to myself.
Each and every person I was dependent on up to the age of 23 hurt me. I don't mean a hurt feelings kind of hurt, but a feared for my life, abandoned and tortured kind of hurt. No way am I going to open myself up to that kind of hurt again, therefore...I will not NEED anything from anybody.
If you know me at all, you know I am dependent on everybody for every need that I have right now. I must rely on someone to do most everything I want to do. You maybe able to imagine the tug of war I have inside me over having to and not wanting to...but that's probably another blog post altogether.
Even if I could tell people what I need to get through the rough times, I don't think I could. My intricate little mess inside my head shuts my mouth down every time I even think about sharing what I need.
So...that leaves me wanting and needing to just sit in my own misery, by myself. If I can't ask for help and people don't understand, then why go through the pains of trying and failing? I would rather stay in my secluded little world. That method managed to keep me alive for 35 years, why wouldn't it work now?
There's only one fault in my master plan. It's worked, but obviously not well or I wouldn't be here again.
How do I know what I need? How do I figure out a way to really communicate that? How do I know who really cares to know what that is? There are no words beyond, "I don't." But why does that answer hurt too?
Times like now take me back to a time when I truly thought my life was going to end at the hands of an evil man and I ask myself....What was I so afraid of? What did I really think I had to live for?
No matter how hard those around me try....no matter how hard I try, there is a communication barrier between myself and the rest of the world.
Do not mistake that for me saying that nobody ever tries to work through that with me. I think several people do try and continue to try once I have long given up. I know several people around me have tried their best to understand me. But the truth is, how can they?
If I think about a mother who is distraught over a sick child, I could not understand her pain. Why? Because I have never been a mother with a sick child. While some people can identify with some of what I deal with, I know nobody who can truly understand what my life is like. Why? Because they have never been in my shoes. Most of the people around me have never seen or dealt with someone with issues like mine.
Wow...that's a hard one to take. People don't understand me because I'm different. I am not different by choice but by default and I hate it.
So, how do I communicate with people who don't understand? Really, how do I communicate with people when I don't understand?
I would love to be able to tell each and every person exactly what I need so that this season in my life could be made easier for myself and everyone around me. But the truth is, I can't.
Deep inside me is buried an anchor of independence. I must operate in the idea that I do not NEED anything from anybody. If I tell anyone that I need something, then I become dependent on them. If I am dependent on them, then I am at their mercy. I CANNOT do that to myself.
Each and every person I was dependent on up to the age of 23 hurt me. I don't mean a hurt feelings kind of hurt, but a feared for my life, abandoned and tortured kind of hurt. No way am I going to open myself up to that kind of hurt again, therefore...I will not NEED anything from anybody.
If you know me at all, you know I am dependent on everybody for every need that I have right now. I must rely on someone to do most everything I want to do. You maybe able to imagine the tug of war I have inside me over having to and not wanting to...but that's probably another blog post altogether.
Even if I could tell people what I need to get through the rough times, I don't think I could. My intricate little mess inside my head shuts my mouth down every time I even think about sharing what I need.
So...that leaves me wanting and needing to just sit in my own misery, by myself. If I can't ask for help and people don't understand, then why go through the pains of trying and failing? I would rather stay in my secluded little world. That method managed to keep me alive for 35 years, why wouldn't it work now?
There's only one fault in my master plan. It's worked, but obviously not well or I wouldn't be here again.
How do I know what I need? How do I figure out a way to really communicate that? How do I know who really cares to know what that is? There are no words beyond, "I don't." But why does that answer hurt too?
Times like now take me back to a time when I truly thought my life was going to end at the hands of an evil man and I ask myself....What was I so afraid of? What did I really think I had to live for?
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Everything Simplified
I can barely believe that it is now 2011. Phew! At times, I thought 2010 would never end. There is a sense of starting fresh this year that I've never really felt.
Most of 2010 was a whirlwind of discovery that came with a lot of heartache. So, to say I am ready to start fresh with a new year is an understatement. Maybe it's not even starting fresh that is so important at this time but being able to know that an entire year is now behind me.
I could spend several blog posts sharing all that I've learned in the past year. But today, I'm looking at one thing that I've learned and am carrying forward to this year.
My life is complex and I have learned to crave simplicity. There is always so much going on around me and with me, that I constantly find myself placing more value on the things that are simple.
I love cooking and baking, but now I want the 3-5 ingredient recipes that make a delicious meal. It takes me months to read a book, but I now spend hours soaking up short articles in magazines.
My wonderful husband got me an ipad for Christmas. I have loaded every app I need to make my life as simple as possible. I even set here with my wireless keyboard, ipad and app writing this blog post.
With all the changes that 2010 brought about (and there were some pretty major changes), I think I like this change in me the most. I have finally learned to appreciate that things do not have to be complicated to be enjoyed or even perfect.
I could have never predicted a year ago that a change would take place in me so big that the most peaceful moments in my life would be as simple as enjoying a cup of coffee with a good magazine in a quiet coffee shop.
Thank God for changes that drive us to appreciate the simple things in life.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Most of 2010 was a whirlwind of discovery that came with a lot of heartache. So, to say I am ready to start fresh with a new year is an understatement. Maybe it's not even starting fresh that is so important at this time but being able to know that an entire year is now behind me.
I could spend several blog posts sharing all that I've learned in the past year. But today, I'm looking at one thing that I've learned and am carrying forward to this year.
My life is complex and I have learned to crave simplicity. There is always so much going on around me and with me, that I constantly find myself placing more value on the things that are simple.
I love cooking and baking, but now I want the 3-5 ingredient recipes that make a delicious meal. It takes me months to read a book, but I now spend hours soaking up short articles in magazines.
My wonderful husband got me an ipad for Christmas. I have loaded every app I need to make my life as simple as possible. I even set here with my wireless keyboard, ipad and app writing this blog post.
With all the changes that 2010 brought about (and there were some pretty major changes), I think I like this change in me the most. I have finally learned to appreciate that things do not have to be complicated to be enjoyed or even perfect.
I could have never predicted a year ago that a change would take place in me so big that the most peaceful moments in my life would be as simple as enjoying a cup of coffee with a good magazine in a quiet coffee shop.
Thank God for changes that drive us to appreciate the simple things in life.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Sometimes....
Whether it be circumstances or relationships or our own issues, I think sometimes we just get to be angry. Sometimes, I think we get to be angry and don't have to find the good in anything.
I am right there, in that time when nothing is good and I am angry at everything. I don't even feel guilty about it either. With as little as I know, understand and believe about God, I think one thing is true. If He knows every hair on my head, then He surely knows how I feel and why. Why even bother trying to hide what is true, right?
It has been a long, hard year and I have a lot to be angry about without question. My circumstances have forced me into a dark place and I feel as though I have lost more than I have gained. I get to be angry about that.
A year ago, I had a great job. It was stressful and many of the people I worked with were unkind, but I loved the job regardless. In January of this year, I took a temporary medical leave of absence. Temporary turned into permanent, which led to my resignation this fall. It has been an incredibly painful loss for me. For nine years, that has been my home away from home. I put my heart into much of what I did. Dysfunctional at their best, the people were the closest thing I had to a family. It has been a loss all the way around and one that adds to the loneliness this time of year brings.
It has been over a year now since I have been able to drive. In the past year, I have heard people complain about the price of gas, traffic and having to drive across town on errands. In my little mind, I'm saying "are you kidding me?" In not being able to drive, I have lost the ability to do those things. I must depend on someone else if I want to go anywhere. I'm rarely given choices and am usually at the mercy of the person willing to let me tag along, which I am thankful for. But think for a second how you would feel if for a solid year that you only had limited choices of where you could shop, eat, or even spend your spare time? It's another loss that makes me angry.
For most of the past nine months, I have not been allowed to spend any large amount of time alone. In fact, I am only allowed one hour alone on any given day. That hour alone rarely happens and usually is interupted by a phone call halfway through. I am not discounting the effort it takes for those around me to make sure that I am never left alone. But think again how you would feel to not have the ability to have alone time. It is a freedom that many people enjoy without realizing that it is a freedom. I am most angry about this loss.
This year has been full of learning things about myself that I hadn't previously known and most of it has been dark and ugly. I have taken steps backwards by learning that a survivor is someone who has lived through abuse and accepting that I am not yet a survivor. With all that I have learned and all that has happened this year alone, I am not yet a survivor of abuse and I am angry about that.
God tells me right in the bible that I don't just have to be angry about all of these things, I get to hate them and rightfully so. Romans 12:9 says "Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil, cling to what is good." My anger is a direct result of the evil that has been done in my life. I get to be angry. I get to hate it! And...I'm guessing if God knows me that well, then He knows that right now I can't cling to anything good. The only hope I have left is that someone else is clinging to the good and will grab my hand before I fall.
I am right there, in that time when nothing is good and I am angry at everything. I don't even feel guilty about it either. With as little as I know, understand and believe about God, I think one thing is true. If He knows every hair on my head, then He surely knows how I feel and why. Why even bother trying to hide what is true, right?
It has been a long, hard year and I have a lot to be angry about without question. My circumstances have forced me into a dark place and I feel as though I have lost more than I have gained. I get to be angry about that.
A year ago, I had a great job. It was stressful and many of the people I worked with were unkind, but I loved the job regardless. In January of this year, I took a temporary medical leave of absence. Temporary turned into permanent, which led to my resignation this fall. It has been an incredibly painful loss for me. For nine years, that has been my home away from home. I put my heart into much of what I did. Dysfunctional at their best, the people were the closest thing I had to a family. It has been a loss all the way around and one that adds to the loneliness this time of year brings.
It has been over a year now since I have been able to drive. In the past year, I have heard people complain about the price of gas, traffic and having to drive across town on errands. In my little mind, I'm saying "are you kidding me?" In not being able to drive, I have lost the ability to do those things. I must depend on someone else if I want to go anywhere. I'm rarely given choices and am usually at the mercy of the person willing to let me tag along, which I am thankful for. But think for a second how you would feel if for a solid year that you only had limited choices of where you could shop, eat, or even spend your spare time? It's another loss that makes me angry.
For most of the past nine months, I have not been allowed to spend any large amount of time alone. In fact, I am only allowed one hour alone on any given day. That hour alone rarely happens and usually is interupted by a phone call halfway through. I am not discounting the effort it takes for those around me to make sure that I am never left alone. But think again how you would feel to not have the ability to have alone time. It is a freedom that many people enjoy without realizing that it is a freedom. I am most angry about this loss.
This year has been full of learning things about myself that I hadn't previously known and most of it has been dark and ugly. I have taken steps backwards by learning that a survivor is someone who has lived through abuse and accepting that I am not yet a survivor. With all that I have learned and all that has happened this year alone, I am not yet a survivor of abuse and I am angry about that.
God tells me right in the bible that I don't just have to be angry about all of these things, I get to hate them and rightfully so. Romans 12:9 says "Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil, cling to what is good." My anger is a direct result of the evil that has been done in my life. I get to be angry. I get to hate it! And...I'm guessing if God knows me that well, then He knows that right now I can't cling to anything good. The only hope I have left is that someone else is clinging to the good and will grab my hand before I fall.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
In the simplistic
Oh how I loathe this time of year...
That might sound a little harsh given what the "true meaning" of Christmas is all about. Now that I understand what God did for us by sacrificing His son for us, the birth of Christ is way more important to me. However, I would like to use this as an opportunity to point out a couple key thoughts.
1. Christ likely wasn't born anywhere near December 25th.
2. The Christmas story we see in nativity scenes is not 100% correct.
3. The birth and life of Christ was so significant that we should not need a set time of year to celebrate, it should be celebrated daily in our lives and hearts.
Christmas time tends to bring families together and large groups of friends to share the joy of the season. That's where I get stuck or maybe lost. I have my husband and a few friends. Come time for the actual holiday, all my friends have families of their own and it will be just my husband and I. Having my husband is enough, but is also a painful reminder of our lack of children and loss of family ties. It's also a time of painful memories of what never was in my family.
In trying to find the good in the midst of all the bad, I am holding onto something special this year.
Maybe I'll share later what Christmas' were like for me as a kid. I'll just say that they were far from joyful and far from celebrating anything about Jesus. Although I didn't know it at the time, Jesus had a little toe in my life as a kid.
A neighbor once gave me a snow globe that had a very simple nativity scene and played "O Little Town of Bethlehem." I must admit that I didn't care much about the nativity scene. I loved the song and could get lost for hours in watching the snow. It was an escape from the wild, dangerous world around me.
Like everything that brought a glimpse of joy to my life, my dad hated that snow globe. So that he wasn't able to destroy it as he had threatened, I hid it under books and clothes in my closet. I was able to hold onto my precious snow globe for about four years. On Christmas day when I was about 12, my dad finally followed through on his promise to take a hammer to my snow globe.
It wasn't that he broke a toy, he did that all the time. It was that he stole that little bit of comfort from me that was nearly impossible to find and obviously not something I could hold onto.
A few years ago, I shared that story with my husband. That started a two year hunt for a similar snow globe that had ended with no luck.
A few weeks ago, I shared that story with a friend. I am not sure if she heard the disappointment in my voice or just knew I would need that kind of comfort this year more than ever.
To my amazement and surprise, she found two snow globes with nativity scenes that play the same song. I'm not sure what sent her on the mission, but mission accomplished.
But what she did was more than just give me a gift that I had been searching for over the past few years.
I've spent the last year living in the realization of all the pain that my past has caused and all that others have robbed from me. I walked into this holiday season feeling as though everything....EVERYTHING, including my hope of overcoming all of my obstacles, had been stolen from me.
Now, I find myself sitting at various times with one of those snow globes. Listening to the music and watching the snow, I get lost in a simple joy where nothing is stolen and everything is perfect. It may only last for a few moments, but I hang onto those moments as tightly as I can right now. Those moments are all that will see me through. And all I can bring myself to ask God for in this moment is that He give me the strength to hold onto that simple picture of His love...even if just for a moment when the rest of my life is dark and swallowed up by the remains of evil.
Thank you Roxanne...
That might sound a little harsh given what the "true meaning" of Christmas is all about. Now that I understand what God did for us by sacrificing His son for us, the birth of Christ is way more important to me. However, I would like to use this as an opportunity to point out a couple key thoughts.
1. Christ likely wasn't born anywhere near December 25th.
2. The Christmas story we see in nativity scenes is not 100% correct.
3. The birth and life of Christ was so significant that we should not need a set time of year to celebrate, it should be celebrated daily in our lives and hearts.
Christmas time tends to bring families together and large groups of friends to share the joy of the season. That's where I get stuck or maybe lost. I have my husband and a few friends. Come time for the actual holiday, all my friends have families of their own and it will be just my husband and I. Having my husband is enough, but is also a painful reminder of our lack of children and loss of family ties. It's also a time of painful memories of what never was in my family.
In trying to find the good in the midst of all the bad, I am holding onto something special this year.
Maybe I'll share later what Christmas' were like for me as a kid. I'll just say that they were far from joyful and far from celebrating anything about Jesus. Although I didn't know it at the time, Jesus had a little toe in my life as a kid.
A neighbor once gave me a snow globe that had a very simple nativity scene and played "O Little Town of Bethlehem." I must admit that I didn't care much about the nativity scene. I loved the song and could get lost for hours in watching the snow. It was an escape from the wild, dangerous world around me.
Like everything that brought a glimpse of joy to my life, my dad hated that snow globe. So that he wasn't able to destroy it as he had threatened, I hid it under books and clothes in my closet. I was able to hold onto my precious snow globe for about four years. On Christmas day when I was about 12, my dad finally followed through on his promise to take a hammer to my snow globe.
It wasn't that he broke a toy, he did that all the time. It was that he stole that little bit of comfort from me that was nearly impossible to find and obviously not something I could hold onto.
A few years ago, I shared that story with my husband. That started a two year hunt for a similar snow globe that had ended with no luck.
A few weeks ago, I shared that story with a friend. I am not sure if she heard the disappointment in my voice or just knew I would need that kind of comfort this year more than ever.
To my amazement and surprise, she found two snow globes with nativity scenes that play the same song. I'm not sure what sent her on the mission, but mission accomplished.
But what she did was more than just give me a gift that I had been searching for over the past few years.
I've spent the last year living in the realization of all the pain that my past has caused and all that others have robbed from me. I walked into this holiday season feeling as though everything....EVERYTHING, including my hope of overcoming all of my obstacles, had been stolen from me.
Now, I find myself sitting at various times with one of those snow globes. Listening to the music and watching the snow, I get lost in a simple joy where nothing is stolen and everything is perfect. It may only last for a few moments, but I hang onto those moments as tightly as I can right now. Those moments are all that will see me through. And all I can bring myself to ask God for in this moment is that He give me the strength to hold onto that simple picture of His love...even if just for a moment when the rest of my life is dark and swallowed up by the remains of evil.
Thank you Roxanne...
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
It's been a while...
Yes, it's been a while since I've actually posted on this blog. It isn't from lack of trying. I think I have many drafts that never made it public. Maybe it's because I feel as though my struggles are so documented on my heart and in my mind that I don't need to share them with anyone else.
It becomes more and more difficult to share the whole of my life without sharing the most hidden and dark issues that I carry with me.
While I toil around in my mess, I can see that there is forward motion.
Let me recount the past four years of simple progress seen just in this time of year:
Four years ago, I struggled, limped through the holidays broken-hearted and not understanding why. I also could never imagine stepping foot in a church.
Three years ago, I was involved in a church but barely getting by through this time. My neice and nephew visited over Thanksgiving, giving me a boost through the holidays and I was able to manage...although still heart-broken.
Two years ago, I had absolutely no contact with any family. My fight to just survive the eight week window of the holidays became just that...a fight. Nobody around me nor myself could understand why there was a battle raging inside me that would leave me barely clinging on by my fingertips.
One year ago, pieces of my battle began to unravel and were seen by those closest to me. This would begin a year of discovery for all those close to me and especially for me.
This year....
Last year, my downward spiral was seen by many and the details were revealed to three people. For many months, three people walk through a very tough time of discovery and acceptance. Over the span of six months, a few more people close to me became aware of my illness. Fear kept me from wanting to share with others, which I believe is a natural response to living with this particular illness.
What I learned was that as most of the few learned what I was dealing with, they became more understanding and more compassionate. To my surprise and despite my fear, they were more accepting of my illness than I was.
Now, here I am once again in this volatile time of year. Looking back, I had truly gone through each of the past four years and many more before that almost alone. Even those few who knew of the fight I was going through, none were aware of why.
Just the fact that I don't have to face this time of year alone and that some of those around me understand better how to help me, is a measure of progress that I cannot deny. It is also a measure of God's love for me.
I know that very few people, if any, read this blog and that is ok. It was started for myself, so that I could have a place to come to remind myself of where I have come from, how far I have come and of the end goal. However, whether you know me or not; whether you have read any of my other posts or not; I'd ask that you please pray for those around me.
Please pray for them to continue to love me, even when I make that difficult.
Please pray for them to have grace with me, even when I cannot find my own.
Please pray for them to find patience with me, even when I test their love for me.
Please pray for them to have understanding with me, even when I don't understand myself.
Please pray for them to have strength to fight, even when I have given up.
Please pray for them to continue to allow God to speak and love through them, even when I don't believe.
It is not an over dramatic statement to say my life depends on those around me. A prayer for them is a prayer for me.
It becomes more and more difficult to share the whole of my life without sharing the most hidden and dark issues that I carry with me.
While I toil around in my mess, I can see that there is forward motion.
Let me recount the past four years of simple progress seen just in this time of year:
Four years ago, I struggled, limped through the holidays broken-hearted and not understanding why. I also could never imagine stepping foot in a church.
Three years ago, I was involved in a church but barely getting by through this time. My neice and nephew visited over Thanksgiving, giving me a boost through the holidays and I was able to manage...although still heart-broken.
Two years ago, I had absolutely no contact with any family. My fight to just survive the eight week window of the holidays became just that...a fight. Nobody around me nor myself could understand why there was a battle raging inside me that would leave me barely clinging on by my fingertips.
One year ago, pieces of my battle began to unravel and were seen by those closest to me. This would begin a year of discovery for all those close to me and especially for me.
This year....
Last year, my downward spiral was seen by many and the details were revealed to three people. For many months, three people walk through a very tough time of discovery and acceptance. Over the span of six months, a few more people close to me became aware of my illness. Fear kept me from wanting to share with others, which I believe is a natural response to living with this particular illness.
What I learned was that as most of the few learned what I was dealing with, they became more understanding and more compassionate. To my surprise and despite my fear, they were more accepting of my illness than I was.
Now, here I am once again in this volatile time of year. Looking back, I had truly gone through each of the past four years and many more before that almost alone. Even those few who knew of the fight I was going through, none were aware of why.
Just the fact that I don't have to face this time of year alone and that some of those around me understand better how to help me, is a measure of progress that I cannot deny. It is also a measure of God's love for me.
I know that very few people, if any, read this blog and that is ok. It was started for myself, so that I could have a place to come to remind myself of where I have come from, how far I have come and of the end goal. However, whether you know me or not; whether you have read any of my other posts or not; I'd ask that you please pray for those around me.
Please pray for them to continue to love me, even when I make that difficult.
Please pray for them to have grace with me, even when I cannot find my own.
Please pray for them to find patience with me, even when I test their love for me.
Please pray for them to have understanding with me, even when I don't understand myself.
Please pray for them to have strength to fight, even when I have given up.
Please pray for them to continue to allow God to speak and love through them, even when I don't believe.
It is not an over dramatic statement to say my life depends on those around me. A prayer for them is a prayer for me.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Expectations
It has been a while since my last entry. Obviously, when I am immersed in the battle my life offers me, blogging is furthest from my mind.
After my last entry, I had a friend ask me a question that I felt I needed to reflect on before I could post again. She asked if it was possible that I had set unrealistic expectations for the people around me. By the people around me, she meant my church and the Christians in it.
That was a very thought provoking question and one I felt I needed to spend time considering before moving forward.
To answer the question, in a word....NO!
This past Sunday, I sat in the sanctuary with the service about to begin and I let that question bounce around in my little brain. I sat there staring at the bulletin in my hand. I wasn't sure at that moment. Was it possible that I was the one who had it all wrong? Did I set my expectations too high?
I came from a family who did not care about me. I came from a life where the only thing readily given was a hard time and torture. It has been easy to set expectations of people in my life higher than what I came from. I also don't feel it is that difficult to meet those expectations because they are still set relatively low.
When I came to the church, I didn't believe. I didn't believe God knew me, cared about me or even wanted me there. I believed the same was true of everyone sitting in that church. They didn't care, how could they. There was no way they could care about me, someone who was so far from being like them. I didn't have the same belief as them nor did have my life as put together as they appeared.
Until now, I had never really examined why I had set certain expectations of Christians however, I knew what they were.
My expectations of Christians and those in my church were this. I expected that everyone would love one another and be respectful. I expected that when I hurt, they would genuinely care and want to help. I expected that while some relationships may be difficult, I would no longer be an outsider. I expected that I would be allowed to be honest without judgement.
I know enough about life and people to understand that nobody is perfect and everyone fails at times. To me, those seem like simple expectations with understanding that there will be times when it isn't perfect.
But was I still expecting too much? Was it possible that this church could not meet those expectations? What led me to believe that this church could or would meet those expectations?
Still staring at my bulletin, I decided to scan the pages. As the questions still bounced around my in my head, I caught little of what was in the bulletin until I got near the last page. There it was! I found the answer.
Helping at church, I often update the bulletin. I pick up discarded copies in the pews on Monday mornings. I have read it cover to cover, repeatedly. But there it was, the answer.
The church had set this expectation for me three years ago.
"This is MY commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends." John 15:12-13
This is listed as one of the four "most important" values of my church. There it is written for each member and visitor to read every Sunday. I remember reading this scripture three years ago when I was considering who God was and who these people were sitting in that sanctuary every Sunday.
God commands us to love one another. I remember thinking, WOW...that's exactly what I need. To be with people who are commanded to love one another. If they were commanded to love one another, then they could love me too. I had never felt any other type of love besides that of my husband. While unbelievable, I believed I could be loved in that place.
It was right there in writing, why would I not believe it could be true?
The fact that the church outlined it as an important value, set my expectation.
If I went into a new restaurant, it is assumed that I would be handed a menu. From the menu, I order a steak, baked potato and broccoli. It's right there on the menu, looks wonderful. In fact, my mouth is watering waiting for the waitress to bring my meal. I have done my part by taking an active part in choosing from the menu and being polite to the waitress.
When the plate arrives at the table, it is chicken, rice and beans. What disappointment I must feel to be given something so opposite of what was advertised, offered, and promised. The only explanation the waitress can offer is that the cook was just too busy with his own life to fix the meal as originally advertised. The only apology given is to please excuse him because he is only human and makes mistakes.
I think the same is true of this church and this scripture. They set the expectation, fall short and find every excuse to not live up to what they set as their own standards.
(I have been told that this is a common problem in many churches.)
This is an expectation that was set for me by the church. There are other values listed, but they are probably more suited to take on another day.
Even though I now understand why I have these expectations and I know there is a definite problem, I'm not sure how to go about fixing it. That will be the next thing to work through on this level, I suppose.
After my last entry, I had a friend ask me a question that I felt I needed to reflect on before I could post again. She asked if it was possible that I had set unrealistic expectations for the people around me. By the people around me, she meant my church and the Christians in it.
That was a very thought provoking question and one I felt I needed to spend time considering before moving forward.
To answer the question, in a word....NO!
This past Sunday, I sat in the sanctuary with the service about to begin and I let that question bounce around in my little brain. I sat there staring at the bulletin in my hand. I wasn't sure at that moment. Was it possible that I was the one who had it all wrong? Did I set my expectations too high?
I came from a family who did not care about me. I came from a life where the only thing readily given was a hard time and torture. It has been easy to set expectations of people in my life higher than what I came from. I also don't feel it is that difficult to meet those expectations because they are still set relatively low.
When I came to the church, I didn't believe. I didn't believe God knew me, cared about me or even wanted me there. I believed the same was true of everyone sitting in that church. They didn't care, how could they. There was no way they could care about me, someone who was so far from being like them. I didn't have the same belief as them nor did have my life as put together as they appeared.
Until now, I had never really examined why I had set certain expectations of Christians however, I knew what they were.
My expectations of Christians and those in my church were this. I expected that everyone would love one another and be respectful. I expected that when I hurt, they would genuinely care and want to help. I expected that while some relationships may be difficult, I would no longer be an outsider. I expected that I would be allowed to be honest without judgement.
I know enough about life and people to understand that nobody is perfect and everyone fails at times. To me, those seem like simple expectations with understanding that there will be times when it isn't perfect.
But was I still expecting too much? Was it possible that this church could not meet those expectations? What led me to believe that this church could or would meet those expectations?
Still staring at my bulletin, I decided to scan the pages. As the questions still bounced around my in my head, I caught little of what was in the bulletin until I got near the last page. There it was! I found the answer.
Helping at church, I often update the bulletin. I pick up discarded copies in the pews on Monday mornings. I have read it cover to cover, repeatedly. But there it was, the answer.
The church had set this expectation for me three years ago.
"This is MY commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one's life for his friends." John 15:12-13
This is listed as one of the four "most important" values of my church. There it is written for each member and visitor to read every Sunday. I remember reading this scripture three years ago when I was considering who God was and who these people were sitting in that sanctuary every Sunday.
God commands us to love one another. I remember thinking, WOW...that's exactly what I need. To be with people who are commanded to love one another. If they were commanded to love one another, then they could love me too. I had never felt any other type of love besides that of my husband. While unbelievable, I believed I could be loved in that place.
It was right there in writing, why would I not believe it could be true?
The fact that the church outlined it as an important value, set my expectation.
If I went into a new restaurant, it is assumed that I would be handed a menu. From the menu, I order a steak, baked potato and broccoli. It's right there on the menu, looks wonderful. In fact, my mouth is watering waiting for the waitress to bring my meal. I have done my part by taking an active part in choosing from the menu and being polite to the waitress.
When the plate arrives at the table, it is chicken, rice and beans. What disappointment I must feel to be given something so opposite of what was advertised, offered, and promised. The only explanation the waitress can offer is that the cook was just too busy with his own life to fix the meal as originally advertised. The only apology given is to please excuse him because he is only human and makes mistakes.
I think the same is true of this church and this scripture. They set the expectation, fall short and find every excuse to not live up to what they set as their own standards.
(I have been told that this is a common problem in many churches.)
This is an expectation that was set for me by the church. There are other values listed, but they are probably more suited to take on another day.
Even though I now understand why I have these expectations and I know there is a definite problem, I'm not sure how to go about fixing it. That will be the next thing to work through on this level, I suppose.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Stumbling, Falling Flat On My Face
Try as I might, I can no longer fight back tears...
If you know me at all, you know I have seen evil in many shapes and sizes. Yet, sad to admit, I believe the current evil I fight the most comes in human form and sits in a church pew every Sunday.
Let me say first, I have met some very wonderful people in my home church. There are people who love me and accept me unconditionally. There are people who are willing to walk through the valleys with me and see the glory of God when they get to stand on top of the mountains with me. That is more than I thought possible and certainly more than I ever thought I deserved.
Unfortunately, all my experiences haven't been so wonderful.
I will take 100% of the blame for thinking that someone who presents themselves as a "Good Christian" is exactly that. I am learning that sometimes, people wear that "Good Christian" mask so that nobody can see the dysfunction that is swirling inside them.
It seems as though I keep experiencing this over and over. Here is what I wish I could say to these seasoned Christian women...
Biblically, you have a responsibility to set an example for those new to the faith. I know it is much easier to judge others but it says over and over in the Bible that we are to love one another, including our enemies. When you portray a "Good Christian" but your actions show a cold heart, it muddies the fresh waters where I am learning to swim. When you profess to be in God's Word daily and a model Christian, it sets my expectations of you. My expectations are that you will be a reflection of who you say you are and there will be accountability when you cause others to stumble. Your mask doesn't cover your pain, but it creates pain for others when you cannot contain what's behind the mask. I know I can be a slow learner, but while I'm still learning to swim, it would be great if you could refrain from trying to drown me.
So let's stop condemning each other. Decide instead to live in such a way that you will not cause another believer to stumble and fall. Romans 14:13
The past few years has been a quest to find godly women who are capable and willing to mentor, teach, encourage and love me. I was starved to find those things, famished after 32 years of not having any of that. More than once, I have found those covered by a mask who have caused me to stumble.
If you have ever watched a toddler learning to walk, then you understand how easy it is for them to stumble. In the Kingdom, I believe the same is true of Christians.
As I sit on that verse, I cry. Everything in me is fighting to not be angry. But I cry anyway because it hurts. Not only does it hurt when others cause me to stumble but my heart aches for the next person who cannot see what's behind the mask.
I am led back to a simple prayer I learned very early on...
God, if she's right, then please change my heart. God, if I'm right, then please change her heart.
If you know me at all, you know I have seen evil in many shapes and sizes. Yet, sad to admit, I believe the current evil I fight the most comes in human form and sits in a church pew every Sunday.
Let me say first, I have met some very wonderful people in my home church. There are people who love me and accept me unconditionally. There are people who are willing to walk through the valleys with me and see the glory of God when they get to stand on top of the mountains with me. That is more than I thought possible and certainly more than I ever thought I deserved.
Unfortunately, all my experiences haven't been so wonderful.
I will take 100% of the blame for thinking that someone who presents themselves as a "Good Christian" is exactly that. I am learning that sometimes, people wear that "Good Christian" mask so that nobody can see the dysfunction that is swirling inside them.
It seems as though I keep experiencing this over and over. Here is what I wish I could say to these seasoned Christian women...
Biblically, you have a responsibility to set an example for those new to the faith. I know it is much easier to judge others but it says over and over in the Bible that we are to love one another, including our enemies. When you portray a "Good Christian" but your actions show a cold heart, it muddies the fresh waters where I am learning to swim. When you profess to be in God's Word daily and a model Christian, it sets my expectations of you. My expectations are that you will be a reflection of who you say you are and there will be accountability when you cause others to stumble. Your mask doesn't cover your pain, but it creates pain for others when you cannot contain what's behind the mask. I know I can be a slow learner, but while I'm still learning to swim, it would be great if you could refrain from trying to drown me.
So let's stop condemning each other. Decide instead to live in such a way that you will not cause another believer to stumble and fall. Romans 14:13
The past few years has been a quest to find godly women who are capable and willing to mentor, teach, encourage and love me. I was starved to find those things, famished after 32 years of not having any of that. More than once, I have found those covered by a mask who have caused me to stumble.
If you have ever watched a toddler learning to walk, then you understand how easy it is for them to stumble. In the Kingdom, I believe the same is true of Christians.
As I sit on that verse, I cry. Everything in me is fighting to not be angry. But I cry anyway because it hurts. Not only does it hurt when others cause me to stumble but my heart aches for the next person who cannot see what's behind the mask.
I am led back to a simple prayer I learned very early on...
God, if she's right, then please change my heart. God, if I'm right, then please change her heart.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Still There
Even though I carry it with me everyday, I had not opened my Grace for the Moment in nearly a month. I don't know what it's like for anyone else, but in tough times it easy to feel too broken, even for God.
I rarely have a problem directing others to God when they go through tough times. In my heart, I know that it is only in God that we can ever find true forgiveness, love, acceptance, comfort, joy and so much more. Even when we find those things in other people, it is because they are able to share what God has given them in abundance.
It is short trip at times to the bottom of that deep, dark pit where I feel broken in pieces and ripped to shreds. In that place is where I look at the mess I am and have no hope that even God can save me. It is here that a cloud of despair fills my heart and builds a wall between what I know is true and what I feel at the moment.
Looking back to my childhood, I realize that a deep, dark pit was a place of comfort for me. There were times when I would separate myself from the abuse and chaos around me by mentally going to a deep, dark pit. While it was a lonely place, it was a safe place. It was a place where nothing bad could happen. The longer I stayed there, the more deprived I became. Even in the safe place, I found myself alone, unable to breathe, and wanting to leave. Although I had created a place where I did not have to feel the physical and emotional pain, even the deep pit fostered a pain of it’s own.
Even if I did not know Him during those times, He knew me. I was a child, broken by circumstance, sin and evil. As I look at any child today, I know God loves them. Broken and alone, I too was loved by God as a child. But it is the evil that was so prevalent in my life which keeps me feeling too broken for even God.
With what is going on in my life right now, it’s even easier to feel as though I am broken into too many pieces for God to sew back together. I tend to look at the road I have ahead and feel overwhelmed. If it’s too big for me to imagine, then it must be too big for God. That is a thought that often consumes me and has wafted through my head a lot recently. Too big, too many pieces, too much and the road is just too long….I am too much for anyone and for God.
Today’s verse in Grace was this:
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and He saves those whose spirits have been crushed. Psalm 34:18
How is it that today, May 26, 2010 I would need to know that? How could it have been so perfectly planned? Who knew I would be sitting in that deep, dark pit, knowing that I was broken beyond repair? Who knew I would need to be reminded that God loves the brokenhearted and saves those whose spirits have been crushed?
Only God!
Why?
Because He loves me and He is bigger than my brokenness!
I rarely have a problem directing others to God when they go through tough times. In my heart, I know that it is only in God that we can ever find true forgiveness, love, acceptance, comfort, joy and so much more. Even when we find those things in other people, it is because they are able to share what God has given them in abundance.
It is short trip at times to the bottom of that deep, dark pit where I feel broken in pieces and ripped to shreds. In that place is where I look at the mess I am and have no hope that even God can save me. It is here that a cloud of despair fills my heart and builds a wall between what I know is true and what I feel at the moment.
Looking back to my childhood, I realize that a deep, dark pit was a place of comfort for me. There were times when I would separate myself from the abuse and chaos around me by mentally going to a deep, dark pit. While it was a lonely place, it was a safe place. It was a place where nothing bad could happen. The longer I stayed there, the more deprived I became. Even in the safe place, I found myself alone, unable to breathe, and wanting to leave. Although I had created a place where I did not have to feel the physical and emotional pain, even the deep pit fostered a pain of it’s own.
Even if I did not know Him during those times, He knew me. I was a child, broken by circumstance, sin and evil. As I look at any child today, I know God loves them. Broken and alone, I too was loved by God as a child. But it is the evil that was so prevalent in my life which keeps me feeling too broken for even God.
With what is going on in my life right now, it’s even easier to feel as though I am broken into too many pieces for God to sew back together. I tend to look at the road I have ahead and feel overwhelmed. If it’s too big for me to imagine, then it must be too big for God. That is a thought that often consumes me and has wafted through my head a lot recently. Too big, too many pieces, too much and the road is just too long….I am too much for anyone and for God.
Today’s verse in Grace was this:
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and He saves those whose spirits have been crushed. Psalm 34:18
How is it that today, May 26, 2010 I would need to know that? How could it have been so perfectly planned? Who knew I would be sitting in that deep, dark pit, knowing that I was broken beyond repair? Who knew I would need to be reminded that God loves the brokenhearted and saves those whose spirits have been crushed?
Only God!
Why?
Because He loves me and He is bigger than my brokenness!
Monday, May 24, 2010
Once Again....
After a long, emotional day, I sit here wondering if God can hear my cries or knows the threads of my tattered heart.
There is barely a day that goes by that I do not find another obstacle staring me in the face. Some of them are little bumps in the road while others are huge hurdles that without a doubt will take more than one try to overcome.
As if it were prewritten, my day started completely out of control. With only minutes to get myself ready, I walked out of the house rattled but ready to take on the day. Sometimes, it is easy for me to remember that my day will not go in any direction where God will not go before me.
My rattled start was followed by a constant movement of people and noise, making it difficult to maintain a sense of normal.
Today was a day when my hurdles seemed to grow larger and my fight to overcome them grew weak. I do believe some of that is a bi-product of living daily with an illness.
By the time my day was less than half over, I had seen many reminders that my life is not my own and neither is anyone else's.
On any given night during the past two weeks, I have been in danger of being hurt or worse. I know it is only by the power of God that I am sitting here now. But the residual emotions and reality of that is harder than I care to share right now.
I learned also that a friend had been diagnosed with cancer. Again, her life is not her own. Her hurdles may grow larger and she may grow weary. But even with her, on any day, she will not go anywhere God has not gone before her.
It is possible that I have more to deal with at the moment than I know how to comprehend. There is no starting point and no ending point. What other choice is there besides to cry out to God? When my hurdles grow larger, I can only cry out for help. When I don't have the words to take away a friend's fear, all I have is the ability to cry out to God. When I struggle to understand my out of control life, the only thing I can do is cry out to God.
I wish I had the confidence to know that God knows each of the broken pieces of my heart. I believe it is only in the crying out to God that will lead to moments when I clearly see how knows me, loves me and promises to rebuild my broken heart.
I am exhausted. I can only cry out to God. I am too weak to overcome my hurdles. I can barely look them in the face. I am crying out to God that He will show up in big and powerful ways right now and remind us all that He is the only one who can mend the brokenness.
God, if you are listening....YOU KNOW! YOU KNOW MY CRIES!
There is barely a day that goes by that I do not find another obstacle staring me in the face. Some of them are little bumps in the road while others are huge hurdles that without a doubt will take more than one try to overcome.
As if it were prewritten, my day started completely out of control. With only minutes to get myself ready, I walked out of the house rattled but ready to take on the day. Sometimes, it is easy for me to remember that my day will not go in any direction where God will not go before me.
My rattled start was followed by a constant movement of people and noise, making it difficult to maintain a sense of normal.
Today was a day when my hurdles seemed to grow larger and my fight to overcome them grew weak. I do believe some of that is a bi-product of living daily with an illness.
By the time my day was less than half over, I had seen many reminders that my life is not my own and neither is anyone else's.
On any given night during the past two weeks, I have been in danger of being hurt or worse. I know it is only by the power of God that I am sitting here now. But the residual emotions and reality of that is harder than I care to share right now.
I learned also that a friend had been diagnosed with cancer. Again, her life is not her own. Her hurdles may grow larger and she may grow weary. But even with her, on any day, she will not go anywhere God has not gone before her.
It is possible that I have more to deal with at the moment than I know how to comprehend. There is no starting point and no ending point. What other choice is there besides to cry out to God? When my hurdles grow larger, I can only cry out for help. When I don't have the words to take away a friend's fear, all I have is the ability to cry out to God. When I struggle to understand my out of control life, the only thing I can do is cry out to God.
I wish I had the confidence to know that God knows each of the broken pieces of my heart. I believe it is only in the crying out to God that will lead to moments when I clearly see how knows me, loves me and promises to rebuild my broken heart.
I am exhausted. I can only cry out to God. I am too weak to overcome my hurdles. I can barely look them in the face. I am crying out to God that He will show up in big and powerful ways right now and remind us all that He is the only one who can mend the brokenness.
God, if you are listening....YOU KNOW! YOU KNOW MY CRIES!
Sunday, May 23, 2010
To God Alone
My life, when looking at a week long span, is at best described as a roller coaster. This would not be the way I would choose to live but is how I live because of circumstance.
There are times I am able to stomp on the brakes, coming to a screaching halt. But, mostly, my life is totally out of my control.
Lately, I have been identifying with Aaron Shusts song "To God Alone." He is saying, here I am...do what you want with because my life is not my own and I will give you (God) all the glory.
That is truly how I am learning to live every day. My life is not my own. I can try my best, but it doesn't belong to me. For those of you who know me, know that in an even more extensive way, my life is not my own. I am learning to allow God to take my life and trust that He will be sufficient in everything and everywhere.
When I became a Christian, I had nothing to hang onto in the rough times accept a God who's promises were all written and completely unknown to me. It was like getting on a bike for the first time and trying to trust that someone would catch you if you fell, even if you couldn't see them.
I've always been the kind of person who had to learn the hard way what was real and true. My Christian life hasn't proven to be any different. I once had someone tell me that as a new Christian, you have to use other people's experiences to hang onto God's promises in the bad times. That's easier said than done.
Finally, I have some real life God experience under my belt. It's a lot easier to trust that someone will catch you when you fall if you feel their hands guiding you.
Not to overshadow the past six months, but the last two weeks have been particularly tough for me. My roller coaster life took some quick turns and fell from the highest peaks to the lowest valleys.
Can You take me by the hand?
Can You use me as I am?
Break me into who You want me to be
When the time is finally right
Will You open up my eyes and show me everything You want me to see?
This life is not my own
To God alone be the Glory
There are times I am able to stomp on the brakes, coming to a screaching halt. But, mostly, my life is totally out of my control.
Lately, I have been identifying with Aaron Shusts song "To God Alone." He is saying, here I am...do what you want with because my life is not my own and I will give you (God) all the glory.
That is truly how I am learning to live every day. My life is not my own. I can try my best, but it doesn't belong to me. For those of you who know me, know that in an even more extensive way, my life is not my own. I am learning to allow God to take my life and trust that He will be sufficient in everything and everywhere.
When I became a Christian, I had nothing to hang onto in the rough times accept a God who's promises were all written and completely unknown to me. It was like getting on a bike for the first time and trying to trust that someone would catch you if you fell, even if you couldn't see them.
I've always been the kind of person who had to learn the hard way what was real and true. My Christian life hasn't proven to be any different. I once had someone tell me that as a new Christian, you have to use other people's experiences to hang onto God's promises in the bad times. That's easier said than done.
Finally, I have some real life God experience under my belt. It's a lot easier to trust that someone will catch you when you fall if you feel their hands guiding you.
Not to overshadow the past six months, but the last two weeks have been particularly tough for me. My roller coaster life took some quick turns and fell from the highest peaks to the lowest valleys.
Can You take me by the hand?
Can You use me as I am?
Break me into who You want me to be
When the time is finally right
Will You open up my eyes and show me everything You want me to see?
This life is not my own
To God alone be the Glory
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Fitting In???
This is one of those moments when it’s necessary to be brutally honest. Some people may not appreciate my honesty at times. I never do the “it’s my blog and I’ll say whatever I want” but it really is. I never mean to offend anyone, but I also cannot always speak the truth unless I am willing to be honest about the good and the bad.
I had the privilege of being an observer during a group activity/game with our youth group at church. I could hear the girls giggling and the guys, well, doing the guy “things.” By guy things, I mean wrestling, running and being children at heart.
The thing that came to mind while I listened and watched the youth group was their sense of togetherness. Sure, there were small groups that tended to hang together. But, there were no obvious outcasts. To take in an overview of the group, you would conclude that they genuinely enjoyed spending time with one another.
I know many of these kids have grown up in church together, so there is some familiarity. But they seemed to fit together as if were each a piece of a puzzle. I choked back each and every tear that came as I listened to the kids.
Looking back at my life and even now, I think that is something that has been missing. I don’t think I have ever found too many places where I felt as if I fit.
While I am very grateful for my church, it is one of those places where I have yet to find my place.
In all fairness, I have no other positive church experiences to compare this one to and I am very introverted in groups of any size.
The church I attend is comprised largely of seasoned Christians with a solid base of those who are charter members or long term members. I do believe that foundation of people is what makes a church very solid. I also believe it is the downfall to new Christians finding their place in the church.
Not since I was a child had I been to a Sunday School class. As Kent and I considered attending, a new class was forming. That class was great for me, not so much for me. The group had couples and singles who were my age or younger. The subjects they covered were basic enough that I could understand them and the questions that came up seemed to cover what was floating around in my head.
That class changed in leadership and in membership as well. The class I had become comfortable in was no more. Along with the change, the younger people left. Maybe it was the change that was too much for me. The new leadership in the class taught far beyond my understanding, so I too left.
I did visit other classes, but found similar experiences in all of them. They were full of seasoned Christians who conversed on a level my little brain could not follow. I have also had a difficult time finding a leader who was willing to answer the silly questions and literally hold the hand of a spiritual toddler.
Again, in all fairness to everyone involved, I have not spent time in every single class. I will be the first to admit that I gave up before exhausting every single opportunity. There may indeed be other opportunities there that I haven’t experienced.
That was two years ago this month and I still have not found a place in Sunday School where I fit.
Other bible studies have been much the same.
Kent and I have a small home. While we have enjoyed being a part of small groups, we have been hesitant to get too involved. Our home is old, small and dingy compared to every other home our groups have met in. We haven’t offered, not only for size, but for fear that we would be looked down on for how we live.
For a while, I thought I had found a place in our women’s bible studies. After attending for over a year, I realized that I was still just on the outside of every group of women. There was one night when it became painfully obvious that I would not easily fit in that group either.
A woman, Christian for years, offered her opinion one night about why women are raped. She said that women who wear provocative clothing are asking for it. I’m not one bit shy about saying that any group who allows a woman to say this so freely is not the place for me. Since then, I have struggled to go back. It’s easier to stay home.
I have tried more recently another small women’s bible study. The jury is still out on it. Could it be the place where I fit in the puzzle? Maybe, but I hold that idea very openly.
Kent and I have often thought about trying a different church. But, we feel very strongly that it was God who took us to that church. And, likewise, we feel God has not guided us to leave.
It is with tear stained cheeks and a lonely heart that I ask God to open a place for me. A place where He knows I fit and a place where I can find comfort in being a part of the puzzle.
I had the privilege of being an observer during a group activity/game with our youth group at church. I could hear the girls giggling and the guys, well, doing the guy “things.” By guy things, I mean wrestling, running and being children at heart.
The thing that came to mind while I listened and watched the youth group was their sense of togetherness. Sure, there were small groups that tended to hang together. But, there were no obvious outcasts. To take in an overview of the group, you would conclude that they genuinely enjoyed spending time with one another.
I know many of these kids have grown up in church together, so there is some familiarity. But they seemed to fit together as if were each a piece of a puzzle. I choked back each and every tear that came as I listened to the kids.
Looking back at my life and even now, I think that is something that has been missing. I don’t think I have ever found too many places where I felt as if I fit.
While I am very grateful for my church, it is one of those places where I have yet to find my place.
In all fairness, I have no other positive church experiences to compare this one to and I am very introverted in groups of any size.
The church I attend is comprised largely of seasoned Christians with a solid base of those who are charter members or long term members. I do believe that foundation of people is what makes a church very solid. I also believe it is the downfall to new Christians finding their place in the church.
Not since I was a child had I been to a Sunday School class. As Kent and I considered attending, a new class was forming. That class was great for me, not so much for me. The group had couples and singles who were my age or younger. The subjects they covered were basic enough that I could understand them and the questions that came up seemed to cover what was floating around in my head.
That class changed in leadership and in membership as well. The class I had become comfortable in was no more. Along with the change, the younger people left. Maybe it was the change that was too much for me. The new leadership in the class taught far beyond my understanding, so I too left.
I did visit other classes, but found similar experiences in all of them. They were full of seasoned Christians who conversed on a level my little brain could not follow. I have also had a difficult time finding a leader who was willing to answer the silly questions and literally hold the hand of a spiritual toddler.
Again, in all fairness to everyone involved, I have not spent time in every single class. I will be the first to admit that I gave up before exhausting every single opportunity. There may indeed be other opportunities there that I haven’t experienced.
That was two years ago this month and I still have not found a place in Sunday School where I fit.
Other bible studies have been much the same.
Kent and I have a small home. While we have enjoyed being a part of small groups, we have been hesitant to get too involved. Our home is old, small and dingy compared to every other home our groups have met in. We haven’t offered, not only for size, but for fear that we would be looked down on for how we live.
For a while, I thought I had found a place in our women’s bible studies. After attending for over a year, I realized that I was still just on the outside of every group of women. There was one night when it became painfully obvious that I would not easily fit in that group either.
A woman, Christian for years, offered her opinion one night about why women are raped. She said that women who wear provocative clothing are asking for it. I’m not one bit shy about saying that any group who allows a woman to say this so freely is not the place for me. Since then, I have struggled to go back. It’s easier to stay home.
I have tried more recently another small women’s bible study. The jury is still out on it. Could it be the place where I fit in the puzzle? Maybe, but I hold that idea very openly.
Kent and I have often thought about trying a different church. But, we feel very strongly that it was God who took us to that church. And, likewise, we feel God has not guided us to leave.
It is with tear stained cheeks and a lonely heart that I ask God to open a place for me. A place where He knows I fit and a place where I can find comfort in being a part of the puzzle.
Green and Pink
While I got ready today, I laid out my next blog topic. And, once again, my mind was changed by the time I sat down to write.
I woke up with frustration over so much in my life. Some days, I can think about it and move on without much hesitation. Today wasn't going to be one of those days, I wasn't going to let that happen. I wanted to be frustrated. I deserve to be frustrated. I haven't driven in months. It is rare to have time alone. Right now, every day a war begins for me before my feet hit the floor and battle goes on inside me until my eyes close at night. I wanted to be frustrated about that!
But, all of that escaped me. As I sat in the sun and consume all that surrounded me, I began to lose my frustrations. The pink and white flowers that were in various stages of bloom drew me in and the sounds of the birds captivated my thoughts. The bright green trees caught the gentle breeze and gave me a slight wave as if they were welcoming me to join them.
During a therapy session in November of 2008, I watched a video that, at the time, I thought was nothing more than silly jabber that would never be of use to me. But, now I recall how the doctor talked about taking a deep breath in and exhaling all the anxiety and bad thoughts out.
Breathe in fresh air, forcing out all that was bad. In with the good, out with the bad. Yes, that was what was happening to me. The silly jabber was coming back to me and I was doing just that.
It didn't seem to be happening by choice. I wasn't sitting there doing anything special. It was a natural process and it was taking hold me right then and there.
My day could have begun and stayed in that ugly frustration. It would have been ok if it had. In all reality, that frustration will likely return and sooner than I'd wish.
But I cannot deny that, even if for a short time, I was able to let go of all that was wrong and live in the beauty of all that was right.
Ahhh, I live for moments like this and moments like this give me reason to live.
I woke up with frustration over so much in my life. Some days, I can think about it and move on without much hesitation. Today wasn't going to be one of those days, I wasn't going to let that happen. I wanted to be frustrated. I deserve to be frustrated. I haven't driven in months. It is rare to have time alone. Right now, every day a war begins for me before my feet hit the floor and battle goes on inside me until my eyes close at night. I wanted to be frustrated about that!
But, all of that escaped me. As I sat in the sun and consume all that surrounded me, I began to lose my frustrations. The pink and white flowers that were in various stages of bloom drew me in and the sounds of the birds captivated my thoughts. The bright green trees caught the gentle breeze and gave me a slight wave as if they were welcoming me to join them.
During a therapy session in November of 2008, I watched a video that, at the time, I thought was nothing more than silly jabber that would never be of use to me. But, now I recall how the doctor talked about taking a deep breath in and exhaling all the anxiety and bad thoughts out.
Breathe in fresh air, forcing out all that was bad. In with the good, out with the bad. Yes, that was what was happening to me. The silly jabber was coming back to me and I was doing just that.
It didn't seem to be happening by choice. I wasn't sitting there doing anything special. It was a natural process and it was taking hold me right then and there.
My day could have begun and stayed in that ugly frustration. It would have been ok if it had. In all reality, that frustration will likely return and sooner than I'd wish.
But I cannot deny that, even if for a short time, I was able to let go of all that was wrong and live in the beauty of all that was right.
Ahhh, I live for moments like this and moments like this give me reason to live.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
You Know
Have you ever had times when you sat watching television and after an hour you couldn't remember one thing you had just watched? That's fairly common for people, especially after a long day. It's easy for a tired mind and body to "zone out" while doing activities that are for the most part, mindless.
Chances are, even you if you don't remember it, you have done this type of thing. But imagine for a moment if you did that for hours at a time or even days.
I am still uncomfortable sharing exactly what is going on in my life, but I can safely share that I have periods of time like this.
It is not uncommon for me to go through blocks of time, sometimes hours and hours, without any memory of it. It is not uncommon for me to find myself in places, talking to people or even doing obscure things without any immediate knowledge of how I got there.
Without a doubt, I always feel unsettled at first and then try my best to recall the last thing I remember. As was the case today when I found myself sitting at church and not remembering much since yesterday evening. I was fully functioning, just not myself so to speak.
When I sat down in the church sanctuary trying to remember anything to connect me to the last 16 hours, I started to wonder if I really needed to agonize over it.
Rarely do I find comfort in opening the bible and looking at random pages. But today, I found myself reading Psalm 139.
The sanctuary is the one place that reminds me of God's place in my life and my situation. Sometimes I sit in the sanctuary of the church and the one and only thing I think about is this:
Jesus said, "Your Father knows how many hairs there are on your head!" (Matthew 10:30)
When you lose as much time as I do, there is comfort in knowing that God knows. He knows where you are, what you are doing because He knows you and me.
I had never read Psalm 139, but it too is a picture of how God knows us and knows where we are in life. I must never stray too far from knowing that in those times when I have no memory, God does and knows every minute, every second.
1 O LORD, you have searched me
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
you know it completely, O LORD.
5 You hem me in—behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, [a] you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
11 If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
This is not all of the Psalm. I encourage you to check it out.
Chances are, even you if you don't remember it, you have done this type of thing. But imagine for a moment if you did that for hours at a time or even days.
I am still uncomfortable sharing exactly what is going on in my life, but I can safely share that I have periods of time like this.
It is not uncommon for me to go through blocks of time, sometimes hours and hours, without any memory of it. It is not uncommon for me to find myself in places, talking to people or even doing obscure things without any immediate knowledge of how I got there.
Without a doubt, I always feel unsettled at first and then try my best to recall the last thing I remember. As was the case today when I found myself sitting at church and not remembering much since yesterday evening. I was fully functioning, just not myself so to speak.
When I sat down in the church sanctuary trying to remember anything to connect me to the last 16 hours, I started to wonder if I really needed to agonize over it.
Rarely do I find comfort in opening the bible and looking at random pages. But today, I found myself reading Psalm 139.
The sanctuary is the one place that reminds me of God's place in my life and my situation. Sometimes I sit in the sanctuary of the church and the one and only thing I think about is this:
Jesus said, "Your Father knows how many hairs there are on your head!" (Matthew 10:30)
When you lose as much time as I do, there is comfort in knowing that God knows. He knows where you are, what you are doing because He knows you and me.
I had never read Psalm 139, but it too is a picture of how God knows us and knows where we are in life. I must never stray too far from knowing that in those times when I have no memory, God does and knows every minute, every second.
1 O LORD, you have searched me
and you know me.
2 You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.
3 You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.
4 Before a word is on my tongue
you know it completely, O LORD.
5 You hem me in—behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.
7 Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?
8 If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, [a] you are there.
9 If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
10 even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.
11 If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
This is not all of the Psalm. I encourage you to check it out.
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