"Unlovely, Rejected" to "Lovely, Accepted"

I was always a sickly child. I had so many allergies, skin disorders, chronic nosebleeds, and asthma that it seemed I would come down with every illness that came across my path. I went back and forth to doctors to get weekly allergy shots. After a few years my health turned around and I thought I would finally enjoy a normal life. 
At the age of 6, my life came to a screeching halt when I was sexually abused by a neighbor. I couldn’t tell anyone! I’ll get into trouble, I thought. Coming from a military family, where children were seen and not heard, I felt I must have done something wrong. I was so ashamed I withdrew and acted out in anger. Soon after, we moved to a new area. I felt this was the way I would leave my experience behind me. Unfortunately, at the age of 9, I was at a friend’s house and the abuse happened again, this time by a visiting uncle. What was wrong with me? I cut my hair very short and began eating to put on weight. I decided I would make myself undesirable. No one would do this to me again, but I was wrong. While in the library of my middle school, I found myself cornered and sexually assaulted by three boys. After that, I began to get heavier and heavier. 

In my junior year of high school I decided to lose weight. I wanted to become more confident and build my self esteem. It was at this time in my life I was raped. This event threw me into alcohol and drug abuse. I had decided that I deserved all that had happened to me in my life.

When I got married I thought I had found the fairy tale, but it was just another place for me to feel unloved and inadequate. Through the years I tried desperately to be loved and accepted. I lived for everyone else. I tried to be the perfect mom and wife. Everyone thought I had it all together, but inside I was crushed. Years of pretending, hiding a series of tragedies, attending numerous funerals of family and friends, one after another was taking a dangerous toll on me. My life fell into a deep depression that lead me to alcohol and drug abuse once again to try and kill the pain. I couldn’t function or sleep until finally, one night I cried out to the Lord. ‘I can’t do this anymore, I give up, and I surrender.’ It was then the Lord reached down from heaven and saved me. The darkness passed and the true light was shining! I was involved in a Bible study two weeks later, baptized within two and a half months and I’ve been on fire for the Lord ever since. This all happened several years ago. I look back on my life and can see the Lord had placed Spiritual members of His body across my path and has called me for such a time as this. It is no longer I who live, but He who lives through me. I am loved, blessed, and highly favored of the Lord. I am victorious, over come by the Blood of the Lamb and by the word of my Testimony.

Signed,
Lovely, Accepted

Detour to Destined

This life we live is a journey toward our destination.  There are side trips or detours along the way that help to build character and to strengthen us.  This is one of those side trips I can share because the Lord’s hand is on my life.  I can thank him for this detour and smile at the future, praying that my King will be pleased when I arrive at my destination.

“So where is your sister moving to?” asked a mutual friend at a wedding reception I was attending. The conversation continued as the friend expressed her surprise after seeing the “sold” sign in front of my sister’s house.  Wondering if she noticed the incredulous expression on my face, I responded that my brother-in law got a job transfer.  After blurting out that they were moving to North Carolina (which later turned out to be the correct guess) I quickly ended our conversation in order to be alone.  

Once in the ladies room, I closed the door and prayed that the Lord would help me with the surreal feeling I was experiencing.  My sister, my once dearest and closest friend was moving away to an unknown destination.  This was yet another episode in the unraveling of a series of unbelievable events that had taken hold in the lives of the people I love.  After regaining composure I found the mutual friend among the wedding guests.  I told her there was something I needed to speak to her about and apologized for not being truthful earlier that evening.  I confided to the friend that I was unaware of my sister’s intent to move, as I had not seen nor spoken with her for the past several months due to a deep wedge within our family. Now that my sister and her family were moving, the distance would be greater and the wedge would be deeper than I could have ever imagined.  There was an ache within me that evening at the wedding but there was also a sense of freedom experienced as that friend and I took each others hands and prayed for reconciliation in my family. There was freedom because this mutual friend was the first person let in to this private area of my life and into what I had been experiencing and suppressing for the past year.  The friend was given a small, vague glimpse and generalities regarding the family turmoil but that was all. She did not learn of the greater ache and deeper wounds that began several years earlier in the life of my oldest daughter. 

At the tender age of three my daughter was sexually abused.  She was abused by a member of my family.  Her world would drastically be altered.  The abuse repainted the bright colorful rainbows in her life a dismal, colorless shade of gray.  The insidious effects of the abuse tried to rob my daughter of her childhood and continued to try to destroy her future. She endured the abuse for nine years, until the age of twelve; it took another twelve years for the wounds that were buried within her to be brought to the surface.     Then He took the child by the hand, and said to her … “Little girl, I say to you, arise.” … for she was twelve years of age. Mark 5:41. 

My daughter experienced first hand as many other women have those deep, deep places that can only be healed by the love and compassion of Christ.  Only the power of the Holy Spirit could penetrate through the layers of pain, hurt and despair and guide the wisdom and advice of extensive Christian counseling that ultimately helped lead the way to healing and forgiveness. I know for my daughter that some days, the old memories try to resurface and are much more painful than others, but by the grace of God, she presses on.  This treasure of a daughter is a living testimony, glowing in the radiance of the Christ, assured in the Father’s love, precious in His sight and choosing victory over defeat.    Behold, I make all things new. Revelation 21:5

I too, am choosing victory over defeat.  Reflecting back on the grieving process my husband and I experienced after learning of our daughter’s abuse, I can truly thank the Lord for His grace, mercy and healing in my own life.

Initially learning of the abuse, the guilt we internalized as parents was insurmountable.  Questions we had were asked and rehashed hundreds of times.  How could we not have known?  How could this have possibly happened and why weren’t we there to protect our child?  Our days, our nights, our dreams our life, were all filled with anguish beyond belief.  One day blended into the next as we grieved the loss and pain in our daughter’s life.  There were days literally spent crying out, my face to the floor, moaning from the deepest places within my soul before the Lord. His timing is perfect!  During a spring vacation from work was when this grieving process took place.  I can thank the Lord for His grace in allowing me the time needed to be alone in His arms.  My husband had to prevent me from throwing away our photo albums.  To me they were reminders of the pain our daughter experienced behind the photos. It was too much to bear.   Evening and morning and at noon, I will pray and cry aloud, And He shall hear my voice. Psalm55:17  

When sexual abuse rears its ugly head it tries to destroy everything in its path.  After its attempt to destroy its victim it continues to tear through the whole family wiping out years of trust and cherished relationships, turning them into betrayal and alienation.    

Knowledge of the abuse was tolerated in my extended family as long as it remained within the family.  Once it crossed the boundaries of the outside world, the family ties took on a whole new dimension.  The family member that abused our daughter has been forgiven. That phase of the process did not happen over night, but he truly has been forgiven.  There was no longer a physical threat but seeing the family member ignited emotional reminders within my daughter.  When realizing the magnitude these effects had on her, we as parents would not let her go through one more second of anguish.  This time around, our little girl was going to be protected. This time we would be there for her.  

Upon making a reasonable request to prevent possible contact, the reactions from my family were totally unexpected.  The reasonable request became the catalyst for the family thought to be standing with us during this trial, to turn and step aside.  I went beyond the walls of the family to protect my child.  I would do it again. Arrows began to fly questioning the validity of the abuse, stating denials and more arrows of false accusations followed.  The blow was crushing.  After sensing the misguided rage during a sibling meeting, it was quickly realized there was nothing I could say to change their minds. It was not to be believed that we simply were asking for a request to be honored.  That was all.  There was nothing I could say to help them understand. They had taken a position based on their own beliefs and, drawn a line in the sand and closed their minds.  Abuse is ugly.  Sin is ugly.  The enemy’s plan is to steal, kill and destroy.  We have not spoken to each other for over a year. 

I understand their hurt and pain and continue to pray for their healing and wholeness. A decision was made to stand up for a child who in the not so distant past was left broken because we were unaware. We became aware.  She would be protected. Her wholeness outweighed the loss.        

When my mother and father forsake me (or my brothers and sisters) then the Lord will take care of me. Psalm 27:10

The Lord has taken care of me and given me scripture throughout this journey. Because of Him I can pray for my family.  I love them dearly, have forgiven them and pray for their destination. 

Perhaps, if I happen to run into the friend from the wedding and she asks me how things are going with my family, I can point her in the direction of the banquet table set before my King, looking across at a family that has been truly reconciled.  

… but the Lord comes to give life more abundantly. 

John 10:10

Thank you Lord!

Signed,

Destined

Violated to Valuable

When I was 3 years old, I was in a tap dancing recital named “Baby Take a Bow”.  My costume called for white tap shoes, but I only had black ones.  To remedy this, my mom bought white spray paint and took my tap shoes outside behind my grandparents’ garage and sprayed them white.  Being only 3, I was fascinated with watching the transformation.  I couldn’t wait to wear my new shoes, so I watched them alone behind the garage, waiting for the paint to dry.  My uncle found me behind the garage alone, and introduced me to the end of my childhood.  I was only 3.  I was only waiting for the paint to dry.  The sexual abuse lasted for 9 years.  There were times when I wanted to tell my parents, but I was afraid of my family finding out.  What would they think of me?  My uncle had also threatened to hurt me and told me it was our secret.  One time when I was at my great grandmother’s house, she caught my uncle with me and gave ME a very disapproving look, never told anyone else in my family and never said a word to my uncle.  I was about six years old when this happened.  She taught me that what was happening to me was shameful and my fault by the way she looked at me.  She also showed me that I wasn’t worth protecting or saving from the abuse.  In my mind, I continued waiting for the paint to dry.  Another time at my grandparents’ house, I walked in on my uncle playing a game with my sister in his room (she was only 4 years old and I was 8) and I knew from his behavior that he was going to try some things on her.  So I told her that she needed to go play outside and I took her place to protect her.  I determined at that time that I would never let him touch her.  I would do whatever it took to make sure she didn’t turn out like me.  When I was 12, my family moved into my grandparents’ house for a few months while my parents waited to close on the house they bought.  My sister and I shared a room upstairs with a huge walk in closet.  My sister was in the closet, and I was in our room after school.  My uncle walked into our room and wanted me to go with him.  For months now, I wanted the abuse to end, and on that day, I finally had the strength to stand up to him and say no.  When I told him to get out and that I wasn’t going to allow him to touch me anymore, he became enraged and actually body slammed me onto my bedroom floor.  My sister came running out of the closet and saw me on the floor.  My uncle got scared and left our bedroom.  I went downstairs and told my grandma that he threw me onto the floor and she brushed it off and didn’t do a thing.  However, she did tell me not to aggravate him, so he wouldn’t get worked up like that.  I went back up to my room and laid on my bed and in my mind I waited for the paint to dry.  Being violated had been a lifestyle for me.  I didn’t realize at this time in my life that the physical violation was truly nothing in comparison to the emotional violation that had taken place in my soul.  From that day on, he never touched me again, but the abuse continued to touch me for many years to come.  

John 10:10, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”

One Wednesday night at church, I heard Pastor Jo Ann teach on this verse.  She mentioned how people live in part A of that verse, ‘the thief comes only to steal, kill and destroy, or part B of that verse, ‘I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.’

When the abuse finally ended, I wore the shame of it for almost 15 more years as a shield around me.  Shame was a constant companion for me.  I chose to hold onto my past and the hurts involved with it instead of the life that Jesus was offering to me.  I never believed that I was worthy of the second part of that verse.  

I came to a breaking point when I was about 24 years old.  I knew I couldn’t go on the way I was.  If God is who He says He is, then how could I go on wearing the shame and fear like a favorite coat?  Pastor JoAnn gave me a book called Hinds Feet in High Places and I cried through the whole thing and read it in a few days.  I was the character, ‘Much Afraid’ in that book and I knew that my Shepherd was leading me on a path to my freedom.  That book was written for me.  

At a time not of my choosing, the delicate house of cards that I had built came tumbling down.  The realization that through all of those years since the abuse ended and the paint still hadn’t dried was overwhelming.  I began counseling and started my path to freedom.  I began to understand the depth of things that had been taken from me.  At this point, Paul, my parents and sister were the only ones in my family that knew this abuse had taken place.  

A few months into this process, my grandfather died, and my grandma was going to sell her house and move to a Senior Care Facility.  I went there with my mom to help clean and prepare the house to sell it.  My mom was helping with something in the basement and didn’t realize that I was assigned to clean my uncle’s old bedroom, where a lot of the abuse had taken place.  I defiantly wore a very strong ‘I am Fine’ mask, so no one in my family could really tell how hurting I was on the inside.  I was determined not to let anyone see the shame that resided in me.  When I was in his room, I was in the closet where much of the abuse took place, wiping down his floor.  I swiped my left hand behind his dresser, and a piece of broken glass caught my ring finger.  I went to the sink in the bathroom and got most of it out, but a small sliver remained in my finger.  From that day on, every time I bumped my finger, I was reminded of all of the abuse that I had suffered.  The pain in my finger was a constant reminder of my friends named shame and fear.  I didn’t know how to function without those companions.  

When my counseling had reached the point that I knew I wanted to move forward and evict shame and fear out of my life, I agreed to have some of the pastors pray for me to be set free from those things.  In my heart I tried to believe that God would heal me, but I doubted so much.  I silently prayed that if God would really heal me, my sign would be that the glass, that was there for over a year now, would come out of my finger.  God brought me to a verse in Mark 5:39-42, ‘39And when he had entered, he said to them, "Why are you making a commotion and weeping? The child is not dead but sleeping." 40And they laughed at him. But he put them all outside and took the child's father and mother and those who were with him and went in where the child was. 41Taking her by the hand he said to her, "Talitha cumi," which means, "Little girl, I say to you, arise." 42And immediately the girl got up and began walking (for she was twelve years of age), and they were immediately overcome with amazement.’ 

When I read these verses, I was overcome with emotion.  I felt like this girl represented me.  She was 12 years old when Jesus took her hand and told her to arise.  I was 12 years old when the sexual abuse ended, but my battle over my mind and emotions lasted another 12 years.  I believe when these pastors prayed for me, Jesus reached out and took my hand and said to me ‘little girl, I say to you arise!’  I really felt God’s presence wash down over me.  In my heart I believed that my emotions were healed.  When I went home that night, in faith, I squeezed that finger and the glass sliver popped right out!  He refreshed me and because of His grace and mercy, I can say here today that I am free from the shame of the abuse in my life.  His freedom came rushing in like a flood.  The paint had finally dried.  I realized that God had always looked at me as a valuable, cherished and loved child.  I could never see that for myself.  I finally understood myself to be someone who was valuable, and I was able to embrace how God viewed me for the first time.  I now know my self worth and value was never in what happened to me in my life, but always in God alone, and His love for me, just because I was His.  

One of my favorite verses is Micah 2:13, “The breaker is come up before them; they will break out, Pass through the gate, and go out by it; their king will pass before them, With the LORD at their head."  The Hebrew word for Breaker is parats.  Some of the meanings are:  to break through or down or over, burst, breach; to break or burst out (from womb or enclosure); to break up, break in pieces; to break out (violently) upon; to break over (limits), increase; to use violence; to burst open; to spread, distribute.  God is the Breaker in this verse. God takes the lead and breaks open a way for us to be free from those things that bind us.  That is what God did with the shame and fear, He annihilated them.  My passion is to see women walk in freedom from shame and fear. Most of my life I was primarily confined by those things.  When I was set free from them, it was because I finally believed that God is who He says He is and He broke through on my behalf so I could confidently walk in His authority and follow His lead for other women.  Because of that freedom, I have authority over shame and fear. I want to see that same freedom and authority with the women I come into contact with ~ and to see women effectively perpetuating that authority in their families and generations to come!

Signed,

Valuable

Numbness to Feeling

The little girl, who nobody knew, the pain so deep. It became chronic, so damaging, that she no longer even felt it.  It became part of her very existence, although ignored, it was there.  Tearing apart her insides to shreds.  To the few that even ‘saw’ her – it was as if no one knew.  How could they not see her dying inside?  Did they not notice or just not care?  As her insides were wilting away, the walls on the outside were getting thicker and higher.  O deal with life!  The girl who was numb wore many masks: one for each occasion and circle of people.  She was very good at changing them without notice.  There were moments when she started to reveal, but quickly she took back any sign of life and again secluded herself behind the walls.  A perfect girl for all to see, or so they thought.  Her masks were now her identity or so she thought.  This numbing process continued throughout her life.  She turned to drugs, alcohol and sex.  The love and healing she craved so deeply was being momentarily filled with a quick high or a few moments of desire from a man she barely knew.  The desire to be embraced was becoming too much to bear.  Somehow she felt that this would dull the pain, but it was only feeding it.  This life of numbing, walls, distrust, abuse, hopelessness and shame.  Her identity now found in her abilities to please a man and seek his approval, whatever the cost.  

Until ONE DAY, someone finally saw her pain and MY heart cried out ‘you see it!’ All this hurt that I have hidden from myself.  It was if the walls were transparent to her.  The questions came, what now? The healing process can begin!  Learning to feel, a very difficult process for those who have never allowed themselves to experience it.  But the awesome part in all of this is the Man I met along the way.  He has taught me that He will carry my burdens.  I no longer have to hold on to the pain.  It is the healing power of Jesus that will set me free and demolish the walls I have set before me.  It is what I had been waiting for since I was a small disappointed child. 

As I look back to the woman with the issue of blood, I am reminded that she too tried everything ‘humanly possible’ to get well, she too was a disgrace to everyone.  Matthew 9:20-22 - “And behold, a woman who had suffered from a flow of blood for twelve years came up behind Him and touched the fringe of His garment; For she kept saying to herself, If I only touch His garment, I shall be restored to health.  Jesus turned around and, seeing her, He said, Take courage, daughter! Your faith has made you well. And at once the woman was restored to health.”  Out of sheer desperation and faith she obtained her healing through HIM.  

All the temporary fixes that we cling to, I am here to Testify to you that Not One is comparable to the life that Jesus breathed into my decaying soul and wounded spirit!  With every breath He gives, I can breathe deeper, stand up taller without shame, look people in the eye with the confidence of who I am in Him.  The breaths keep coming, they don’t stop.  They are sustaining me, the void is being filled.   The walls are being penetrated by who He is.  I trust Him, it has been established by His word that I can.  I feel it.   He does know my pain, He has seen it all, and most of all He wants to take it, the years of treacherous torture on my soul.  The more He breathes in to me, the more my worth is being restored.  I am still reliant on the daily breath of God in my life.  

This is a process that is ongoing and is something that I know God will continue in me.  I just now know that my strength is found in Him.  I thank God for this, and my understanding of this.  My heart is passionate for seeing women healed, set free and restored by the miracle worker Himself.  I am a woman after the heart of God, and I ask Him daily to show me the hearts of hurting women.  I pray that He would let me see deep into their hearts and give me words for them to begin the process for them.  My heart’s cry is for the Lord to use me.  In all I do to God be the glory.  I hope that this will release women to a deeper realization that He is our Healer and the Lifter of our heads. 

Signed,

Feeling 

"Cry of Silence" to "Cry of Freedom"

Cry of Silence was brought up in a Christian home. I did what I was told and followed all the rules that were set before me. I always was an obedient child, the one who did what was right. However, I never developed my own relationship with the Lord or personal convictions.  I was trained to marry a Christian man, like many of us were. So this is what I did, but I was deceived. I quickly learned that every man that names the name of Jesus is not of His.  So here I am now, married with my so called "Christian man"- thinking all was perfect, but was I wrong. 

Now this is where my wilderness experience begins, the training that God had to take me through. In this marriage I was abused emotionally, mentally, physically and sexually.  I also was a victim of infidelity. Within this time all I knew to do was to seek God's face, through prayer and reading God’s word. During this time I developed a TRUE relationship with the Lord. I got to know him as my redeemer, a deliverer and a mind regulator. No one but me knew the pain or the amount of suffering that I was dealing with in my Cry of silence. 

One day in my car, I heard an advertisement for a local Christian Counseling Agency. The Holy Spirit lay upon my heart to call them. This is when my healing began.  I realized that God did not want me in this situation that I was in; He loved me too much to have me suffer. I was so confused because I know that God is not a God of divorce.  I would hear messages at church on how we are to pray for God to heal your marriage, and I spent 13 years on my face asking for this.  I had to let go of being concerned about what Man would think, and I had to grab hold of the Word that says, who the Son sets free is free indeed!!!  

My personal song of redemption is Alabaster Box.  One of the verses in that song says, ‘you don't know the cost of the oil in MY alabaster box’.  This is when I knew I had to remove myself from the Hell I was in.  So you see I know what it is to be in a place that it hurts so bad that I want to take my own life- and yes, I was saved.  I just got to a place where I was emotionally bankrupt, but no one ever knew because I wore my masks very well.  I wasn't ready to remove these masks until I personally sought out the qualities of God, for myself- I cried out to God for 13 years, and he lead me out of the wilderness with all the scars to show and to let woman know that God is able to bring you out in your right mind. Ladies God is ABLE- more than able- to bring us through.  No matter where you are or what you are going through, God will carry you through!  BUT GOD-- always remember there is always, a BUT GOD in every and all situations.

Signed,

Cry of Freedom

"Deal with it" to "Deliverance"

At the age of 13, my father walked out of our home never to return. He walked out on my Mom and 3 kids ages 13-9-1. My Mom had a job where her hours were 3pm-11pm to support us. At 13 I became an instant Mom. But I decided that day that I would be a survivor. I learned how to deal with it, and always had an action plan. 

A few years ago, I went through an incredibly difficult year. I lost my grandmother, Grace, my Aunt who was my spiritual Mom, and then very unexpectedly my own Mom.  I was dealing with grief and my husband’s Parkinson's disease.  My husband was also involved in an accident that morning that totaled 2 SUVs and a 25 ton truck.

As my husband Bill laid in the ER, with every test they did the news went from bad to worse. After the last CT they told Bill that he had a broken neck and jaw and that a neurologist would be coming later to fit him with a halo. All through our stay there, he kept on proclaiming to anyone that would stand still that he served a God of miracles and that he would be walking out of there totally whole. Even as a nurse told him that the films don't lie, he just kept on proclaiming God's promises.

I prayed a lot and I believed in God's healing powers. I also made a ton of phone calls so that others were with us in prayer. But as I paced the waiting room, I was making plans in my head as how we would make it through the next few months. As I watched the doctors, nurses, friends and others come and go, I felt numb. Even after the miraculous news, everyone was praising God, but for some reason I just could not connect. I was looking down a long tunnel, and couldn't take part in the celebration. I was too consumed trying to deal with it my way that I almost missed what a miracle had taken place.  So I took Bill home that night with no broken bones, no bruises, scratches or cuts. He was not even sore the next day.  So life went on, and my next step in dealing with things was to get some counseling on how to be an effective caregiver to someone with Parkinson's. 

The next morning in my private prayer time with the Lord, the Holy Spirit got right in my face and asked, "How can you trust God for most things, but always keep a little piece for yourself?”  I just shook my head. He took me back to when I was 13, standing at the window, watching my Daddy leave. This time I looked over my left shoulder and saw satan in my backyard digging a pit. My pit was called survival. Over the years, ‘how to deal with it’, became my comfort zone. And I didn't even know I had a pit!!!   Then God took me back to Bill's hospital room where I began to see a truth, and now I was doing it with Parkinson's' disease. Back in my living room Jesus took my hands in His and said, “I am your deliverer, you trust Me for everything or you trust Me for nothing.”  “I don't want you to deal with it. I want you to trust Me enough to let Me deal with it." His refusal to bend to my will might seem uncompassionate. But He was pushing me to higher ground, from glory to glory.

I realized I was disobedient and dishonoring the Father, the Word and what Jesus had done on the cross. After repenting for my sin and declaring myself free, I turned and still had to answer the question, what do I do now? When He answered me, I heard Him tell me to begin by ‘calling those things which are not, as though they are.’  He reminded me that ‘I have the mind of Christ, and that He is the restorer of my soul.’  He then told me that He is not moved by what I see.’  

God is so passionate about having a relationship with you.  He wants everything we've got, the good, bad and the ugly. If you hold nothing back, neither will God. The limitations put on my life were a lie. I spent most of my life, slipping in and out of a pit, without even knowing I had one.

Signed,

Deliverance