Lost and Found

“When you're lost it sometimes takes a while to realize you're lost. You convince yourself you've just wandered off the path...you'll find your way back any moment. Then night falls....you still have no idea where you are. It's time to admit you've bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don't even know from which direction the sun rises anymore.” Elizabeth Gilbert

Being lost is scary...terrifying actually. I was lost a few times....once in the woods. I had my bike with me. I was alone. It had started to get dark. I remember the panic...the desperation of trying to find the way out. 

I wandered in circles....over hills, mountains, passing streams and trees...everything looking the same. Finally....I dropped my bike and took off running. In my panic.....I prayed...more like begged God to help me get out of there.  He heard. When I came across an opening that had a stream of light shining through showing the way out.....I whooped and hollered....totally relieved...totally grateful.  

Being lost isn't fun. It's scary. Frightening. I used to be lost in ways that made my world scary.  I wandered in the dark....alone....desperate to find the way out....afraid I never would. 

I drifted around going over and over the same hurtful places.  In my panic.....I prayed.....more like begged God to show me the way out. He heard. When I saw the Light illuminating the path leading out.....I was totally overwhelmed with relief, joy and gratitude. 

Being lost on your own....in the dark.....is super scary.  I've never forgotten the feeling of running scared......the panic sticking in my throat....the hope of seeing a path I thought to be the way out and then the awful let-down when I realized it led nowhere. And when I finally saw the Light showing the path out...those overwhelming feelings of relief and gratitude.... 

I won't ever forget what it felt like to be lost then found. Because of that.....I always want to shine His Light for others so they too can find their way out.

"It's not what we need to learn, but unlearn." Bill Crosby

When I was a kid, I learned to read people. I became really good at detecting other people's feelings and needs, especially those people who were hurting me. I thought if I could figure out what was going on inside them, I could somehow keep myself from getting hurt. I got so good at knowing when they were happy, what they wanted and even when they were about to blow. There was a problem though. I didn't always get it right. Sometimes I did, but sometimes it just made me crazy. I was constantly on edge, constantly afraid, constantly trying to decipher what was going on inside the other person.

I became whatever people needed. But in doing that, somewhere along the way, I lost myself. I never knew what I wanted, or liked, or needed. I had this weird detachment from myself, almost as if I was separate from me. The sensation of not being present in my skin was like hanging onto a thin thread that I felt could break at any moment.

When someone asked me something as simple as what color I liked, or what food I wanted to eat, I went into a panic. Every decision became life and death. I agnonized over the craziest things. Once I stood in the store for hours trying to decide if I liked one color over the other. A friend was with me and he tried to help me figure out which I liked. Finally, frustrated, I asked him to make the choice. I did that all the time and then beat myself up for being so stupid.

I had been taught to not trust myself. As a kid, I was never allowed to make any choices. - not about what I ate, what I wore, what I wanted or what I did. When my father was hungry or tired and I wasn't, he cursed me, calling me vile names, - telling me I was so stupid and didn't know what I needed. He knew better. If he asked me to pick out something in the store and I did, he put it back screaming it was dumb and he wouldn't spend his hard earned money on something so useless. Whatever I wore, he told me to change to what he wanted me to put on. Everything I learned told me -not to trust me.

Over and over and over he and my mother called me names - stupid, idiot, garbage, worthless, deserving nothing. I believed them.

When I began to heal from all the abuse, I realized I had learned so many things I needed to unlearn. Learning to trust myself was huge. I felt like I was in a war. Many times I fought with myself - throwing up, cutting and biting my arms - desperately wanting to make my own choices, but falling back into extreme panic - accepting the lies I had been taught - believing I was stupid and had no idea what I needed or wanted.

I needed to come home to my body. I needed to learn to live in my skin. It was terrifying. Somehow though, God helped me. He was my achor in healing. He gave me what I needed to fight. His presence, His gentleness gave me what I needed to come home to myself.