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Fear…and overcoming the awful dread

Penned on February 4, 2013

Words teeter on the edge of my fingertips. My heart bursts with so many things I’d like to say, but when it comes right down to letting those words out, I can’t. I wonder…what is wrong with me? Why can’t I just write what is there, waiting to be released? Why do I continue to allow fear to taunt me?

Broken Window

Fear is an awful dread.

A little girl, who must have been about eight or nine years old, hung for dear life to the back of an old couch. The couch, shoved against and facing a wall, became life support. Brown-haired child hung on to that couch for dear life, as her mother beat her mercilessly and hurled hateful, hurtful words.

She cried, that little girl. Begged for mercy. But the beating was endless, as were the dagger-words.

Tears streaked her face. Knees trembled, threatening to give way to the beating. If not for that old couch, the child surely would have been in a heap on the floor by now. The beating hurt. Oh, it hurt awful.

Her heart hurt more than the lashes. In her little mind, she couldn’t understand what she’d done that was so awful, so terrible, to deserve the beating and berating.

Why can’t I make her happy? The little girl questioned herself about the mother who couldn’t stop. Why did I have to be born into this world, if I make her world such a terrible place with me in it?

That beautiful blue-eyed babe, whose life so young and full of life, dreaded living already at that early age. Those eyes had seen pain, that body had known pain, that mind had known more fear than any child should know.

And. It. Hurt.

The hitting hurt. The words hurt. But more than anything, she just wished she could be good enough for her mother to love her back. To be pleasing enough to put a smile on her mother’s face. To do enough to just not make her mad anymore.

Sweet girl couldn’t see. She was too young. Too innocent. Too loving.

Sometimes the only thing one’s life has to offer is hurt and pain and mistakes and failure. But that failure does not have to link from one generation to the next.

So that little girl made up her mind one day (finally) to forgive. Release the hurt and move forward. To be the link in the chain that would break free from the hurt and pain and anger and unhealthiness.

Because being free is better than living in fear.

If the Son therefore shall make you free, ye shall be free indeed. ~John 8:36

Filed Under: Heart Matters, Life, Spirit, Walking by faith

Dear Wounded Heart,

Penned on February 25, 2012

There’s something burning in my heart. Something I want you to know.

When you smile at me, I see the pain in your eyes. I hear the hurting cry your heart screams.

The pain you think you’re hiding isn’t hidden at all.

I see it. I feel it. I know it.

See, I’ve experienced that pain, too.

I’ve felt the deep-cut of viciousness. I know the ache of wanting to belong, but feeling out of place.

I know all too well about building up thick walls around a wounded heart.

I’ve been there.

I’ve done that.

I know what it’s like to create a barrier so thick and strong that nobody can penetrate it. Even when they dare to try.

But can I share with you a lesson I’ve learned about such walls, Wounded One? When you become weary of keeping your heart protected with the obstruction you’ve worked so hard to build, you will find yourself all alone.

Because people will only try to break through your wall so many times. People are human. And when others reach out in love because they sense you’re hurting, only to be rejected time after time, they’ll eventually accept that you aren’t willing to let them in.

Be brave, Wounded Heart.

Stonecarving
Creative Commons License photo credit: AMagill

Let somebody in. If you give me a chisel and ask me to sit with you, I promise you, I’ll help you begin chipping away at those monstrous bricks.

I know how difficult it is to trust. I understand the heartache. I feel your pain.

Sometimes we have to be willing to put an end to assumptions. Open our hearts and minds. And just open ourselves to the love that others want to give us.

I know it isn’t easy. But it is doable.

I’d love nothing more than to give you a bear hug and tell you, “It’s going to be okay.” The truth is, it won’t be okay…as long as you cling to those old hurts.

So let them go.

Break down that wall you’re hiding behind.

You aren’t fooling me.

I see the pain. I know that pain. I feel it.

Love,

me.

Filed Under: Heart Matters, Life, Spirit
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The power of blessing others

Penned on January 17, 2012

Sunday was a tough day for me. Things happened. And yet in the middle of the mess, God remained constant.

Source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kavehfa/2428338037/

I suppose when the devil did his thing on a Sunday, he assumed that it would cause me to stay home from church. He was wrong. I found great solace in knowing that I would be among sisters and brothers of faith, standing in God’s holy presence to worship Him in spirit and truth.

After service Sunday night, something unexpected happened. A sweet lady came to me and said, “Sister, I need to put a blessing on you.” She hugged me and spoke a very simple blessing in my ear.

She had no idea what I was going through that day. She doesn’t know the ache in my heart. She doesn’t know all the unanswered questions that gnaw me at times. She was simply following God’s heart.

In the Greek, blessing means

 to ask God’s blessing on a thing; pray God to bless it to one’s use; pronounce a consecratory blessing on

Even a mess can be blessed.

God knows about every mess in my life. He understands my pain. He sees the most secret places of my heart. And He knows when I’m needing a blessing the most.

That Sister’s simple whispered blessing gave me renewed strength. It reminded me that no matter the ugliness in my life, He wants to use it for His glory.

This isn’t about me. It’s all about Him.

When I choose to remain steadfast in Him, He will use everything–the good, the bad, the ugly–for His glory. No matter how big or little the mess, I choose to place it in His hands.

Do not let yourself be overcome by evil, but overcome (master) evil with good.

{Romans 12:21, AMP}

There is evil in this world. But it will be overcome with good. It will be overcome with God.

Filed Under: Life, Spirit
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This is me

Penned on October 17, 2011

I’ve started several posts…hit delete…tried again. I dislike feeling like I am bound and can’t say what is on my heart. But I have learned a valuable lesson in my 35 years, and that is to season my words. So that is what I will attempt to do this morning.

I had a not-so-good childhood. There were some good times, but they are difficult to remember, and I have to think a long time sometimes to remember them.

I could tell you stories of how it feels to be afraid to go to sleep at night, because I was sure my mother would come into my bedroom and kill me.

I could tell you more stories of how my child-nerves were a frazzled mess for years because of all the screaming and fighting and throat-choking that went on in our house.

I could tell you even more stories of how I learned to lie and make excuses and attempt to cover up the ugliness going on at home, and how those lies and cover-ups and deceit ate at my soul every single day.

But here is what I want to share with you today, even more than all the ugliness…

hope

Me, playing my Granny's piano

I had fun, stress-free, carefree summers at my Granny’s. Summers when I’d ride the tractor with my Daddy-o (grandfather) and play outside with my cousins until dark, and sit around a table to eat home cooked meals after Daddy-o said grace.

My two sisters and I with our cousins and Daddy-o

I had really good friends who were there for me, even though they never knew the half of what terror I lived with at home.

My Granny and me

But the most important point I want to make today is one that millions of dollars could never have bought for me.

The deficiencies of my childhood shaped me into the woman I am today, by teaching me all the “what not to do’s” of life. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

This is me today:

  • God-fearing, God-loving woman
  • Devoted wife and mother
  • Eager disciple, who loves to work at church

I’ve learned that nothing in life comes easy, and I’m thankful for that, because easy come, easy go. God is my constant. He has never and will never fail me.

This is me. Hopeful. Prayerful. At peace with my past and confident that God remains in control, no matter what comes my way.

This is me. Expectant. Watching. Knowing that my trust remains in Him alone.

This is me. Thankful. Blessed. Living the life He planned for me.

Filed Under: Life, Spirit
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How to make peace with the pain

Penned on September 5, 2011

Last week, I shared a tiny piece of the complex puzzle of my childhood. It’s really hard to talk about these things publicly. I’ve held countless secrets for so many years because of shame.

But shame does not come from God.

via Photobucket

There’s also a fine line on which I’ve danced all these years. This line divides truth and consequences. I’ve been so afraid of what might happen if I started telling the truth, that I chose to suffer in silence.

It is difficult for me to speak my truth today. But I’m slowly beginning to unfold these layers because I know I have a message of hope to share with others that are hurting.

There is a way to make peace with your pain.

Take it to Jesus.

The first step is laying it all at the foot of the cross. He already knows your pain, but you have to get it out and lay it down. Open yourself before Him. It’s going to be unnerving, but it is necessary.

Accept yourself.

When you’ve emptied your pain before the Lord, you must come to the realization that this pain does not define you—unless you allow it to. I’ve often said many times to people that if anyone has plenty of excuses to not live right and do right, it’s me. But I choose to accept my past, and more importantly accept myself. I’m not flawless, but I am a child of God.

Love yourself.

And this is the hardest part. Isn’t it? When pain has clouded your self-perception for so long, you start believing the lies.

You aren’t good enough. Something must be wrong with you. You don’t deserve anything better than this.

Sis, please don’t keep entertaining these lies. They are from the pits of hell.

Forgive those who hurt you.

I have to be honest right now and tell you that forgiveness is a near-daily thing for me. Sometimes I think I’ve finally forgiven, but then something pops up and rips the scab off that old wound and I’m back to hurting again.

I know you’ve probably heard this a million times, but forgiveness is not for them. It’s for you. And the only way for you to make peace with the pain is to find a way to forgive. Sometimes only Jesus can help you reach a point of forgiveness.

Forgive yourself.

You know what? There have been so many times when I’ve looked in the mirror and hated myself. A week rarely goes by when I don’t have some negative thought about myself, for no good reason, other than it was burned into my mind years ago.

And I could beat myself up every day if I wanted to, for not doing more or trying harder. But the truth is, I’m doing all I know to do. Yes, I’ve said some things and done some things in the past that I’m not proud of. But if I want that pain to subside—heal, even—I must be willing to stop and forgive myself…for whatever.

A painful past cuts deep and often creates unending pain for a lifetime. How do you deal with your pain? How have you found a way to make peace with a painful past?

Filed Under: Life, Spirit

When the pain hurts too much to speak

Penned on September 1, 2011

Why doesn’t she love me?

...Hurt...
{photo credit}

I remember asking myself (and God) that same question time and again for the first eighteen years of my life.

To be honest, I still ask myself (and God) that question to this very day.

It’s hard for a child to understand why her mother doesn’t seem to love her.

I’m not saying she doesn’t. I believe in her own way she does. But it’s a different kind of love.

Sometimes the pain hurts so much I can’t even frame it with words.

Some days I’ve tried really hard to remember something good. I focus and concentrate, praying for God to help me remember something–anything–good. But more often than not, it’s only the painful memories that surface.

I wish sometimes I could wave my hands and everything would magically be different. That we’d be close. That she could love me.

I believed for years that something was wrong with me. Something must have been wrong if my own mother couldn’t love me. Right??

Pain from the past is weighted chains. It binds and holds her; locked in a past that cannot be changed. I’ve forgiven. Offered love. But it doesn’t seem to be enough, and I can’t understand why.

Sometimes the pain seeps so deep into my soul that I think I can’t stand the heavy load another second. I tell myself I can’t bear it any longer; that I’ll back off. Stop reaching out. Go silent.

But then I am reminded of the pain Jesus bore for me.

He carried my sins. He bore the weight of the cross on His shoulders. He was wounded for my iniquities.

And yet He loves me still.

So I pray. I wash my anguish and hurt with tears of sorrow.

I repent. I ask forgiveness from the One who knows my heart. Then I pray for her. The tears of sadness turn into groans of travail. And I pray for God to mend her brokenness. Mend my brokenness. And somehow make sense of this, as only He can.

What do you do when your heart hurts too much to speak?

Filed Under: Life, Spirit

Find joy in your journey

Penned on August 1, 2011

Have you ever felt consumed by frustration? Sadness? Anger?

Have you ever wondered if God really cares? Is He listening? Does He still love you?

Sister, I’ve been there.

Today I’m guest posting at Joyful Mothering about finding joy in the journey.

Beautiful paths
Photo credit

“I am going through a terrible emotional roller coaster ride right now. I feel like a piece of raw meat, open and exposed and being beaten to a pulp. Emotionally and spiritually…I am a wreck.”

I penned those thoughts in my journal many years ago. Reading them now, I can still feel a twinge of that pain. I remember it all too well…

(click here to continue reading 7 Ways to Find Joy in the Journey)

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Filed Under: Spirit
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