"Be glad of life because it gives you the chance to love and to work and to play and to look at the stars." Henry Van Dyke
I'm glad God let me live. I'm glad He didn't let me die.
And I'm glad I'm not crippled, or sick or physically a mess because of all the things I did to my body. He let me live. And He gives me this amazing joy inside that makes me feel like I can fly.
Many times I wanted to take my own life. I tried. I popped tons of pills, overdosed shooting up, walked in front of cars, stood on the ledges of buildings, became so thin my heart could have stopped - Yet He let me live.
I shook my fist at Him, daring Him to kill me - but He wouldn't. I tempted life - ended up in crazy and dangerous situations where others could have killed me - He didn't let them.
He ran with me even when I didn't know Him. He fought for me when I was determined to live opposite to what He wanted. He saw something in me I couldn't see. I guess He knew I would live for Him if I ever let Him free me.
I keep wanting to ask why me when so many of my friends died. I won't ever know why, but I promise I will be whatever He wants. I'll do whatever He asks even if I'm afraid. I love Him. He touched me. He freed me. He broke chains that held me really tight - chains that were choking life from me.
I couldn't feel anyone's love. I couldn't accept kindness from anyone. I knew I didn't deserve it. I deserved nothing. When someone said they loved me I didn't believe them. I didn't know what they meant. I didn't trust them. In my mind, I believed I had no right to exit.
Somehow though, God broke through that. Somehow He manged to show me love that was so amazing it broke through the barrier of shame and did what nothing else could -
I'm really glad He didn't let me die. I'm really glad I know Him. I'm really glad I belong to Him.I want my life to count. I want it to count for Him.
"You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do." Eleanor Roosevelt
Fear. I hate it. Most of the time I don't even know why I am afraid.
Like these past few days. We we're getting ready to go away. I want to go. The place we picked is beautiful - it's up north in the mountains - a fun place with lakes, sports, cool shops, tons of fun. But I'm afraid to leave home. I'm driving myself crazy. Want to go - don't want to go - want to go - have to go. Kids are excited.
What's wrong with me? This happens so often. Before we went to disney last January, I agonized about going for weeks. Everyone was excited but I had this overwhelming fear. I dreaded going. We went. It was great fun. It's weird. I think I'm afraid to leave home. Fear is just as bad as shame. It cripples and it clouds my thinking. I'm going in spite of the fear. I'm going because I know it's a good thing and I can't disappoint my girls. Someone once told me fear is the opposite of faith. I think that's true. When I think of fear and faith, I think of them being similiar to a positive and negative magnet. When you try to bring them together they repel each other. I can't live in fear and faith at the same time. I am so tired of being afriad. I choose faith. Even if my stomach is filled with crazy butterflies - I choose to trust. I choose to go.
"Words are the voice of the heart." Confucious
I never talked. I never told. I never said the things that happened. Instead I hid - overwhelmed with shame, wondering if all those awful things even happened at all. I used to talk in the third person - almost as if I was speaking for someone else and not for myself. I lived as if I wasn't a part of myself - Separate. Detached.
This blog has become my voice. It's given me the freedom to write what I can't say - to put a 'voice' to the memories that play in my head like old reruns that have kept me cowering in shame, - terrified to be seen.
When I sit at my computer and type - I feel free. It kind of feels like running in the woods. I can say what I want. I can say the truth. I can be honest. No one's looking at me.
My book is finished. My writer friend edited the whole thing. She said she was entralled. She said I'll touch many lives. She told me she's proud of me for writing it. My other friend, my best friend, gave my name to some local churches to speak at in the fall. The fall is too far away for me to worry about right now, but I hope I can stand up and have people look at me and tell the truth of what happened.
This morning I went for a run. I listened for God's voice. His voice gives me courage. This morning, I heard, 'trust.' One word. One powerful word. I believe He led me to write. He brought some amazing people to help me including some of you on the blog. I'm grateful, really grateful.
I want my voice to be heard. I don't want to be silent anymore. I want to help other people find peace and freedom. Maybe my story will give them that.
"We know what a person thinks not when he tells us what he thinks, but by his actions." Issac Bashevis Singer
Her voice was sweet and she seemed kind. I trusted her. But she helped the rapist hold me in that house. Six months, unable to get out of there. She could have let me go at any time. She had the keys to the gate, to the doors - but she wouldn't. She threw me in that small cold empty room, took away my shoes so I wouldn't run, locked the door and even held me down for him....... how could she have appeared so nice, yet participate in something so awful?
What does the face of an abuser look like? I learned the hard way it's not the creepy looking guy that everyone tries to avoid or the dishelved man slumped in a downtown alley mumbling to himself. A pertetrator of harm could be anybody - male or female, young or old. The scariest thing - you can't tell by simply looking at someone if they're unsafe.
This past June my daughter came home from school and said, 'the teacher wanted us to share something we learned from an adult.' She looked at me and smiled. 'I said my mom taught me - something or someone may look good, sound good and have a group of people supporting them, but listen to your gut. Trust that gut sense. If it says danger, - trust it. Run.'
It's taken me so long to learn that. I'm thrilled at 13 she gets it. I've always lived with this fear of someone hurting my girls. It's made me a bit crazy at times and definitely overprotective. Kids trust too easily. They believe in the good of others. How do you not scare them but keep them safe? When my 13 yr. old was small, I was terrified she would go with anyone. But I wasn't a young child when I was pulled into that house. No age is safe.
I have to trust God. Trust Him to keep them safe. My head tells me not to worry. That God surrounds them with His angels and is protecting them. I have to trust. I have to believe.
"Faith is like radar that sees through the fog - the reality of things at a distance that the human eye cannot see." Corrie Ten Boom."
Since we moved, I've been a mess - really tired and totally frustrated. A few things went wrong and I buckled. I don't like me when I'm like this. It feels too much like the old me - wild - on edge - out of control. I hate the clutter. I hate the boxes. I need order. I need space with things put away. My head knows it will happen in time but I also can't find things. Like the card the publisher gave me at the writing conference. He told me to call him. He told me he wanted to help me. I can't find his card. I want to give up.
As I drove to work I prayed. I put the music on full blast. Music that sang of God's love and care. I started to calm down. I hadn't prayed since we moved. Too much confusion. Too much chaos.
"God, where did I put that card?" The thought jumped in my head, 'the green pencil case.' The green pencil case? Ok then, where did I put that pencil case? Silence. All day, I thought of that pencil case. All day I wondered where I had put it. Came home. Told my daughter and said it could be in one of a gazillion boxes. She opened up one and pulled out a green pencil case. "This it?" she asked. We opened it and there was the publisher's card.
The missing piece for me - Prayer. Trust. Faith that God knows. He's with me. Even in the chaos. Even in the mess.
Closing my eyes I see myself fighting to survive. Fighting to get away from people who are hurting me - climbing a six foot fence in the middle of winter, with no shoes desperate to escape - cowering under the blows of my father's hands - cringing from the stick my mother beat me with - fighting myself - throwing up, cutting and biting my arms, shooting dope - getting high to numb out - forcing myself to be strong, to not buckle - to stay alive.
I feel God's love. His care. The gentleness of His touch. Stop fighting I tell myself. You don't need to fight anymore. For today, it's ok again. For today, I can trust. And breathe. And know He is with me. I can let go and still be safe.
"I have accepted fear as a part of life..... specifically the fear of change. I have gone ahead despite the pounding in my heart that says: turn back.... Erica Jong
I hate change. Even when it's good change.
We've moved to the new place. - I know I like it. I love the quiet, being surrounded by animals, woods and water - the neighbours are great. A few have warmly welcomed us, some even jumping in wanting to give us a hand.
Everything is different here - the layout of the rooms, the appliances, even the shower in the ensuite is on the opposite side to our old house. Things still need to be set up. Boxes are everywhere. I can't find some things I want. We still need to buy some furniture.
And I want to go running, but I don't know the woods around here. Where we were, I knew them really well and always felt safe but here I don't know the trails. I need to run. I need to run in the quiet of the woods. It calms me. It gives me a sense of safety. I don't know if these woods are as safe as the ones I ran in. I feel afraid. It's all so new.
Change. I hate it. Even when I know what I'm moving towards is better.
Why am I afraid? Something inside me just wants the familiar. And it's not like we've moved that far away from where we were. The day we moved, it was so hot, but I had to run. I went back to run in the familiar woods. I needed to quiet the fear inside me. I needed to hear God whisper, it's ok.
My heart tells me, trust. Don't be afraid. The little kid inside me feels like things are somewhat out of control. I think of some of the places I've been in my life. This is heaven compared to those places. I'm trying to breathe, to trust, to let go and know God never leads us where He knows we can't handle it. Maybe today I'll venture out in these woods.
