30 Day Picture Challenge: Day 21

Day 21:

A picture of something you wish you could forget

Do you know what this ribbon is for?


It is to fight sexual assault. 


Did you know that April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month?


I didn't.


Probably should have.


Maybe I didn't want to face that it happened to me.


A part of me still wonders if it was partially my fault.


My brain says NO WAY!  My heart wonders.


I was young.  Only 15.


And my heart had just been broken by my first real boyfriend.


He knew what he was doing.


I didn't.


Not until it was too late.


Now?


I will NOT allow another young girl to go through the trauma I went through alone.

Fine

"How are the kids feeling?", he asked me.


I reply with a short, terse, "Fine", and go back to my work.


They aren't fine, not really.  But I don't want to tell him that.  My heart still stings from our argument yesterday, and, quite honestly, I don't want him to know.  And does he really want to hear exactly how all three of them are doing, or is asking about my children the easy way to get back on speaking terms with me?  To move beyond the wound rather than try to deal with the issue at hand?


The rest of my day is spent in a blur of "fine" moments.  Moments where giving the plain vanilla "fine" seems so much easier and safer than dirty, honest truth. 


"How's your husband's business?"


Fine


"How are the kids doing these days?"


Fine


"How was your trip?"


Fine


"How's church?"


Fine


I tell myself that you don't need to know everything.  That you don't want to know I am
exhausted
frustrated
ticked off
sad
mad
happy
confused
joyous
pensive
timid
unsure
confident
concerned
grateful
questioning
peaceful
cautious
carefree 
And probably all at the same time.


I don't want to be the person who bursts into tears in the check-out line.  Or the person whose life is sunshine and rainbows and unicorns constantly, whose sugar sweetness leaves a film in your mouth.  The person whose FB profile reads like an intimate diary.  The person who over-shares with everyone.  That person.


But I can no longer be the other extreme, either.  I am tired of plain vanilla.  I am tired of maintaining the "fine".  It is, quite frankly, exhausting.  And I don't have time for it.  It takes much more time and effort to put on the face and reply with the "fine" rather than honestly blurt out, "Right now, life sucks.  But tomorrow it will be better", and move on.  I am tired of holding people at arm's length, afraid to be completely honest, afraid they will run away. 


Honesty and transparency are a battle for me.  But I want to fight.  I want, no I need, these relationships.  And I need to know the safety that can only come from intimacy. 

Road Trip

Today, Kat & I get to take a road trip.
A new state, a new city.




"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go." Joshua 1:9






A new hospital, a new round of doctors.
More tests.




"I can do everything through him who gives me strength." Philippians 4:13



She is excited.  We are staying in a hotel that serves breakfast AND has a pool.  I am officially the coolest mom in the known universe.
She is excited to be alone with me for 3 days.  To have adventures together.  To meet new doctors who will, in her words, "help me 'cause I can't do it by myself."






"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Hebrews 11:1








I don't see an adventure.  I see a hospital.  I see more tests. 
I see a long road.
I see a possibility that could affect the rest of her life. 






"When I am afraid, I will trust in you."  Psalm 56:3







All of a sudden, I don't want to be the mom.  I don't want to be the one in charge.  I want to curl up on my dad's lap and let him face the monsters.  But I can't.  This time, he is the grandpa.  It's his job to spoil her.







"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." John 14:27






 And just like he did for me, so many years ago, it is now my job to fight the monsters for my daughter.
To be an advocate, to explain, to hold her hand.






"I will be a Father to you, and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty." 2 Corinthians 6:18








And to let our Heavenly Daddy hold both of us.









* For more PYHO stories, visit Shell at Things I Can't Say.

PYHO: I want to be home

I am grateful for my job.

I get to work with my parents, whom I love dearly.

I have a full-time job, in this economy.

I have bosses who understand when kids are sick, who encourage me to take time off to spend with them, who make every day enjoyable to be at work.

I am able to help my husband pay the bills while he builds his business.

But my heart is not here.

My heart is home, with my girls.

I never realized just how selfish I was, until I had to go to work. 

And be away from them every day.

I would give anything to be breaking up arguments, making peanut butter and jelly for the 5th day in a row, wiping behinds and tears.

I want desperately to be the class mom at school, to have lunch with my girlfriends and the herd of toddlers, to be able to go to the park on a day other than Saturday.

Most days are ok.

I remind myself that this is temporary, that all of this is working towards getting me back home.

Sometimes, though, like today, the end of that tunnel just seems too far off.

Today, I just want to be home.



*Please understand: I am in NO WAY implying that one group (SAHM, WAHM, working mom, whatever) has it easier or harder than another.  I simply miss, with all my heart, being with my kids all day.

PYHO: Why I Got Dunked

Today, I am linking up with Shell for Pour Your Heart Out.  Basically, it's a safe place for anything you know you need to say. 

How do you express in words the deepest cry of your heart?

Or do you?

On October 31, I was baptized.  Again.  

And, two months later, I still struggle to explain the how, the why.

The first time, I was 19.  I had accepted Christ not too long before. 

I did it because the mature Christians said it was the next step.

I did it because I wanted to prove to my parents that my Christianity was not just a phase.

I did it because I wanted to make God happy.

 

The trouble is, not much changed.

I was unwilling to let God work in those deep, painful areas of my life. 

In August, I wrote about my experience in allowing God into those recesses for the first time. 

In September, I wrote about the pain and numbness of my depression, the Scriptures that jumped off the page and into my heart, the truth of who I am versus the lies I have believed for too long.

This journey has been long, and hard.  But I need to document it, for no other reason than my own sanity.  There are still dark days, for sure.  Days where I battle to claw the edge of the precipice, terrified of slipping.  But the dark days are starting to number less than the good ones.

On October 31st, I was baptized.  Again.

I struggled for a month before with the decision.  Do I do it?  Should I do it?

No one knew, other than my husband, until that morning.

This COULD NOT be something I did for ANYONE else.

I had to do this for me.

I know that the last 4 months have been completely different than the last 12 years.

I know that God is doing a new work in my heart.

I know that, for the first time, I do not have to fear when God starts to reveal an area of my life that He wants to heal.

It hurts.

And I am not perfect yet. 

Sometimes it seems easier to run sometimes than face the pain.  Sometimes I do run.

But I am learning that He will chase me.

And when I let Him catch me, He will not be angry.

I know that the worst thing I could do is hide the pain.

I know I have no reason for shame or guilt.

And that is why, on October 31st, I was baptized.  Again.

Because I know I am not the only one.

Storms

*Note* This is a compilation of my thoughts, writings, meaningful Scriptures, and prayers over the last month.  I am on a journey with God unlike any I have ever experienced.  I don't want to forget, both the good and the bad.  And I struggle to express my heart in spoken conversation.  Somehow, though, the written word flows, and brings me comfort.  Thanks for walking beside me on this journey.*

I don't like storms.  Storms make me nervous.  Being around insurance most of my life, I have seen the destructive nature of, well, nature.  Every time I see the clouds building,

I get nervous.  And scared.  And I try to avoid the storm. 

"The Lord also will be a refuge for the oppressed, A refuge in times of trouble.

And those who know Your name will put their trust in You.  For You, Lord, have not forsaken those who seek You (Psalm 9:9-10)."

Honestly, I feel like my life has been flipped upside down in the last month.  On the outside, everything is great.  The girls are wonderful, Jerome's business is starting to take off, work is going well.  On the outside, everything is beautiful and calm.  Inside, there is a storm like none I have ever seen.

"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.  I will say of the Lord, 'He is my refuge and my fortress, my God in whom I trust (Psalm 91:1-2).'"

Last month I wrote about my experience with my girlfriends, when so much broke in my heart and mind.  This past month has been hard, incredibly hard.  Probably the hardest thing I have faced in my life.  God's word has jumped off the page, for sure, ministering to my heart and reducing me to tears.  But I have also realized just how far I have to go, and I don't know if I have the strength to fight.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose (Rom 8:28)."

Being vulnerable is not something that comes naturally to me.  Being open, honest with people about my heart, my hurts, my failures is akin to torture in my world.  It is much easier, much more "normal", to put on my happy face and never let anyone see the pain. 

"The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing" (Zephaniah 3:17).

It seemed so much easier to be numb, to let myself drop back into the depression.  My heart hurts.  It seems like everywhere I turn, Satan is hitting me on the head with something - discouragement, failure, fear, judgement, shame.  In my head I know they are lies.  But in my heart?  I'm not so sure.

"And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Phil 4:7)."

I just want to be normal, whatever that is.  I want to go to bed in peace.  I want to get up in the morning with joy.  I don't remember the last time true joy permeated my life on a daily basis.  How sad is that?

"I will give you the treasures of darkness, riches stored in the secret places so that you may know that I am the Lord, your God (Is 45:3)."

I feel like the woman at the well, or the woman caught in adultery.  I feel like I have been caught in my shame.  And I'm not even sure if I did anything wrong, but I still feel shame.  I struggle to look my Savior in the face.

"But now He has reconciled you by Christ's physical body through death to present you holy in His sight, without blemish and free from accusation (Col 1:22)."

Lord, Daddy, I NEED to know I can run to You.  I NEED to know You will protect me, cover me, hide me.  I NEED You to be my refuge, my fortress, my oasis.  My heart and mind NEED Your protection.  I feel like I am in the midst of a washing machine - getting thrown everywhere but not really going anywhere.  I NEED to know this is leading me somewhere.  I NEED to know this plan will work out for good.  I NEED to know I will be ok.

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?  Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?  For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, nether height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rom 8: 35, 38-39)."

I love you Lord.  I really do.  Help me to trust You to heal these wounds.  I have so many.  Most days the sheer number overwhelms me.  But I know You can do it.  Help me trust that You will.

"You, Lord, give true peace.  You give peace to those who depend on you.  You give peace to those who trust You.  So, trust the Lord always.  Trust the Lord because He is our Rock forever (Is 26:3-4)."

All I want is to be normal.  To be ok.  To not hurt all the time.  To not feel like I have to hide the pain.  To feel joy.  To feel hope.  To know love.  To live with peace.

"How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God (1 John 3:1)."

I am free.

I am pure.

I am holy.

I am beloved.

I am chosen.

I am loved.

I am cherished.

I am guiltless.

I am shameless.

I am clean.

I am forgiven.

I am a daughter of the King of Kings.

I am precious in His sight.

I am a friend of the Lord of Lords.

I am a princess.

I am bought and paid for.

I am strong.

"But I will sing of Your strength, in the morning I will sing of Your love; for You are my fortress, my refuge in times of trouble (Ps 59:16)."

There have been times, honestly, in the last month that I have doubted my sanity, doubted my salvation, doubted everything I have known. 

 "But what happens when we live God's way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard - things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely. Legalism is helpless in bringing this about; it only gets in the way. (Gal 5:22-23)."

I know that, someday, I will be able to see this time from the other side.  From the side of healed.  I yearn for that day, just as I yearn for that first ray of sunshine after a storm.

"Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are--yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need (Hebrews 4:14-16)."

Because I don't want to forget

*Disclaimer*  This post is long.  Really long.  Starting to turn into mental diarrhea kind of long.  Feel free to click the little red x if your eyes go buggy, or you realize you don't have 5 hours. 




Most of the time, my blog is filled with the insanity, fun, and chaos that is my life.  With our girls, nothing is ever dull.  If I can brighten someone's day and make them laugh, then I am content. 


But, for me, this blog also serves a deeper, more personal purpose.  It serves as a journal, a reminder of sorts.  I am not much of one for keeping a pen and paper journal.  Never have been.  But, I don't want my girls to look back on my life and wonder who I was, wonder what my walk with God was like.  I want them to know what I was like before I met my Savior, and who He is creating in me.  And I don't trust my memory to be able to recall all the stories of my journey with God.  This is why I blog, to create reminders for myself of all that God has brought me through, and where He is taking me.


This has been one of those weeks.  I know I have been quiet lately.  Honestly, I have been so overwhelmed, I just couldn't write.  Emotions and thoughts have created a jumbled mess in my head, and sorting them into a cohesive sentence just seemed impossible.  Jerome even asked me if I was going to blog about what was going on, because he knows writing is my therapy.  I had to tell him that I couldn't.  The words just wouldn't form.  And I couldn't simply post funny thoughts of my girls - that would be denying and hiding what was going on in me.  It was easier to just be silent.


My life, much like yours, I'm sure, has had its fair share of pain.  Memories from my childhood and adolescence are mostly painful.  Even as I am trying to type this, my fight-or-flight is kicking in and trying to get me to check my FB, my email, look at the news - anything but this.  I have been working on this post for three days.  I keep trying to run, only to come back and know I need to write it.


Early on, I learned to be a perfectionist.  If you didn't cause trouble, and were good, then the bad stuff didn't happen to you, and no one would see you.  I learned to tell people what they wanted to hear, rather than the truth, because sometimes they didn't believe the truth.  I learned to always be busy, always doing something.  If you kept yourself busy you didn't have time to hear your heart crying in loneliness and pain.  I learned that no one cared about your struggles, no one cared about your pain.  Someone always has it worse than you, so stop your whining before you get something to whine about.


In middle and high school, I learned that being smart was a curse.  Being pretty was worse.  Being both was horrible.  I learned that men were not to be trusted, and that women were spiteful and mean.  That left me with no one.


And, if I may be completely honest, it didn't get much better after I met Jesus.  I just carried all of my dysfunctions into this relationship too.  I didn't want to be one of those "needy" Christians, the ones who suck the life out of everyone.  And so I pretended like my past did not matter.  That it didn't hurt.  I said that Jesus healed me, but in reality I had simply shoved the pain deep in the recesses of my heart and mind so I wouldn't feel it, wouldn't have to deal with it.  I didn't want to let Jesus deal with it either. 


I could not stand before my Savior without a sense of overwhelming guilt and shame that made me want to run and hide.  And so I did.  I read my Bible because I was supposed to, but it wasn't a love letter to me.  It was a list of every way in which I was a failure.  I went to church, but scurried around in a frenzy to do things to please Him.  Because, maybe, if I did enough, someday He would forgive me.  Today was never the day to seek healing.  Tomorrow.  Someday.  But never today.


I have been blessed to be a part of a bible study/book club with a wonderful group of girlfriends.  Each month, we meet and discuss our book, but mostly our lives.  Last Monday, we were discussing Forgotten God by Francis Chan, about the Holy Spirit's ministry and movement in our lives.  It is an incredible book, by the way.  One I hope to reread every few months, just to keep reminding myself. 


I love and hate going to this book club.  I love it because of the precious friends I have, and getting to spend time with them is so wonderful for me.  I hated it because I had to work so hard at hiding the pain and numbness that was my constant companion. If these women saw and knew the deep pain, hurt, and shame, they would turn and run.  Or at least that is what I thought. 


I don't remember saying a single word during the entire discussion time.  Not a word.  I was listening, and "hmm"ing the other ladies' thoughts, but did not share.  All of a sudden, my dear friend asked each of us to share a moment where the Holy Spirit had led us in ministry.  And something inside of me broke.


I couldnt' lie.  I had to look my friends in the eye and tell them that I had no idea.  That I wasn't sure my "ministry" choices had ever been led by the Spirit.  That I was the terrified daughter, scurrying around to keep busy and make Daddy happy so He wouldn't yell at me.  That the only relationship I had ever truly craved would never be mine.


And then God moved.


My friends began to pray for me, over me, with me.  For the first time I can remember, I could see the love in my Daddy's eyes.  They prayed words of wisdom, encouragement, and love over me.  I realized I had blamed myself and refused to forgive myself for things that were never my fault.  I wept that night.  I don't remember when I had ever cried that hard. 


This past week has been exhausting.  It is much easier to let myself slip back into the numbness rather than feel the pain and deal with it.  A lot of memories, pain, and situations from my past have been brought to mind.  I have the choice to shove them back down and be numb or allow Daddy to remove the arrow.  Honestly, it hurts to seek healing.  It means letting the wound get cleaned out.  It means there are scars, and scabs.  But I can't go the rest of my life wounded and crippled and numb.  Not anymore.


I want to feel.  I want to truly live.  I want to know God's touch, His presence, have words from His Love Letter jump off the page and into my heart.  I want to be free.