Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pain. Show all posts

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

Shattered Glass to Whole


I felt the grip of a love that once held me, tearing its way away from me.  In desperation I went for the glass dome, which sat in our living room coffee table and served as a shelter for what symbolized our love and destiny, our unity candle.  Having engraved the very words; “Let this be our destiny to share our lives together so that we may with one voice glorify God.”  Watching it shatter, I reached for the pieces and attempted to swallow the shattered pieces of glass to hold together within me what once was the bond of love.

As I laid there on the floor feeling sorry for myself, starring at every shattered piece, I felt as if the broken pieces of glass were causing the tears within me.  I felt as though every part of my inner being were being cut.  As I laid numb from the pain in my throat and the tightening of my chest, I heard the cries within me as though the pieces of glass were making its way through my body.  I laid speechless; nothing could be verbalized with that intense pain.  I felt as if those shattered pieces were cutting within my throat my intestines and to the pit of my womb.  

As I was diagnosed with complete placenta previa, doctors insisted on bed rest and minimal movement as to not create more bleeding while people burst out with cries of prayers.  I refused to accept their prayers and at times damned their prayers.  I continued to want to live in this sorrow for myself. 

As hours, days, what felt to be endless time past, I felt those pieces of glass not only cutting my insides but come together to surround my entire being.  A glass dome surrounded me where I could not be reached nor could I tangibly reach anyone else.  While living in this ‘glass dome’ I could not verbalize what I was feeling.  Though at times all I felt were the cuts within me.  The human size glass dome that surrounded me served as protection from what satan wanted to do, which was destroy me.  But God was soon going to make something good come out of it. Genesis 50:20, “As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today.” The pieces of shattered glass within me would soon become an incubator; part of the process needed for healing that was to take place. 

All of a sudden I heard a voice from within me that said “Get Up! Glass cannot cut what is inside.  Do not allow that love that once held you to define your being or destiny.  There is a love that is greater.  A love that devastation does not separate!  Follow your destiny.” 

I began to stand and nonverbally say “nothing can separate me from the love of God. Nothing!  A love that is greater.  A love where all love is birthed from lives within me. Verses that I once knew became to being again like Romans 8:35, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword?”  Psalms 27… Evil doers try to devour my flesh, the Lord is my stronghold. I will still be confident.  I will still see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  Songs came forth though nonverbally. Precious Lord Take My Hand; He’s the Same All the Time, the very words became my cry.

All the while something was forming within the pit of my womb.  To my surprise those shattered pieces of glass within me formed itself to continue to serve its purpose.  What I felt to be tears and cuts within me formed a shelter for something.  It formed itself to be a dome it once was.  A dome to shelter that love.  God’s precious love within me. 

That dome overtook my insides and formed a shelter of protection not only around me but within me around a seed.  The seed that was formed from not just a love that once was but from a love that is greater.  From God, my Father, my Healer, and Creator of all good things.    

For that sheltered dome, formed an incubator dome that sheltered the seed that was to soon come forth, a Nephtali.  A blessing in a time of trouble.  The cuts became a process of a healing that was to take place.  Giving birth to the inheritance of God.  Giving meaning to Psalms 127:3-4, “Sons are a heritage from the Lord.”  My purpose, my destiny, to glorify God! As a woman, and now as a mother, together with one voice we will glorify God.  No matter what devastation life may bring I am determined to glorify God in what I was called to do!  

From that shattered dome came forth a seed, a child, a Nephati.  (My son).  From the nonverbal sprung forth meaning to a passionate dance in spirit and than naturally arose within me a ballerina clothed in praise.  Giving true meaning to Isaiah 61; “You have bestowed on me a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of spirit of despair.”  True meaning to “They will rejoice in their inheritance and everlasting joy will be theirs.” 
  
Who would have thought that glass dome would serve its purpose no matter where it sits, from a stained up coffee table, to intestinal intense moments, to the pit of a womb, and create within me a ballerina.  “You truly have turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing to you and not be silent. O Lord my God I will give you thanks forever.” (Psalms 30:11)

Signed,
Whole

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 

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