Monthly Archives: October 2011

Monday Morning Meditations

Well, hello there blog.  Missed you last week.  I was constantly behind the eight ball and was constantly surprised by forgotten event after forgotten event.  Yeah, it was bad.  So, I just couldn’t find the time to sit down and put my thoughts here.  Oh, well.  Moving on.

Monday morning meditations are stream-of-consciousness writing with a one-word prompt (for as long as I like).  I was going to write about plenty, but I think I am going to write about control.  Control is a current theme in my life right now, particularly because I am in therapy (yet, again) and we are talking about how this plays out in my life.  And, I have a lot of feelings and thoughts on the subject.  So, here we go…

Control

People say that having control is an illusion.  I say that’s not true.  I have been controlled by other people many times in my life.  Anyone that has authority has control over other people.  A child is controlled by all of the adults in his life.  Adults tell a child where to go, what to do, how to do it, and punish any transgressions.  I don’t think this is a bad thing.  I think this is a good thing because a child needs to be guided in how to be a good citizen of the society they are born into.  It becomes a bad thing when control is used as a means to subvert and dominate for no other purpose than impose one’s will on the other person.  And this is no illusion.  A person that forces another person to do something bad or against their will has control of the other person.

My experiences as a child were of being controlled and forced to do things that I didn’t want to, or should, do.  By many people.  My mother continued to control me until I left home.  And, after I left home, she still had a hold over me until she died.  There was not a place I could go without looking over my shoulder in fear that she would show up and I would have to run and hide for face her.  Even as an adult, my mother controlled me with fear.  When she died, I felt so relieved.  I didn’t have to worry anymore.  The control was gone.  Trust me when I say that not feeling guilty about this is a struggle.

This feels like an awful shame to me.

But at least my fear of  being controlled explains why I behave like I do in certain situations.  And there has been plenty of that going on in my adult life.  He wants me to trust Him and to understand my choices.  There goes God again, working all things together for the good of me who love Him.  Healing can begin and I can look to God to help me understand what is really going on in a situation that feels like I’m being controlled by another person.  I can choose to submit myself to someone else’s authority, or not.  The “or not” part is freeing and puts the choice in my hands.  The best part of this is that I can look to God to help me understand my choices and walk into a situation with my eyes wide-open of my own free will.

It’s my choice now.

5mf- Look Beyond What You Know

5 minutes of unedited writing…No worries, no backtracking, no fussing. Just write…

Beyond

For some reason I am drawing a blank here. Beyond fits in my life somehow. I look beyond the stars of my own sky, I look beyond my own sin, I look beyond my own feelings, to find Him. Jesus wanted us to look beyond the law and find Him. Paul wanted us to look beyond our own mistakes and find Him. God wants us to look beyond our own realities and find Him. By looking beyond what we can see, we find hope. We find peace, we find purpose. When we choose too look beyond, we choose to rise above that which Satan would have us believe about ourselves and our reality- that we are stuck, useless, and purposeless. God says that we are unstuck, useful, and purposeful. After all, He created us in His image. After all, we were created with a purpose on this earth. We have a job to do. Look beyond what you know and find the meaning of your life.

I guess I wasn’t so blank after all.

Telling My Story… My Mother

My relationship with and my feelings towards my mother are complicated.  Honestly, she was not a very good mother.  In fact, I’d say she was was a terrible mother.  It would be easy to just stop there and just hate her.  Jesus won’t let me just hate her, hence the complicated feelings.  My mother had it just as bad, or worse, as I did growing up.  According to her story, her father abused her.  He was also an alcoholic as was her mother.  I never knew my grandparents, so I cannot attest to what kind of people they were.  But, I don’t have any reason to doubt her story.

My mother just couldn’t deal with life.  She was alcoholic, adulterer, and a drug addict.  My mother was overbearing, confusing, mean, and selfish.  I never knew if I was coming or going with her.  I never really knew if she loved me or not.  She didn’t believe me I talked about the abuse that happened with my father.  She claims she didn’t know or notice anything.

When I was 19, I had met a man that was strong and tall and cared about my safety, or at least I thought so at the time.  My mother threatened to to hit me one day, so I left with this man’s help.  For the next 14 years, I kept myself separate from my mother.  I tried for one year in the  middle, until things went south again and I split.

Then my mother overdosed on opiate based painkiller about 8 years ago.  This was quite a shock and started the present journey I am on trying to cope with both the relief I feel at her death, and the sadness that I feel because I was never able to reconcile with her.

So now, even after all these years, I still feel have confused and complicated feelings.

God wants me to forgive my mother, over and over again.  He wants me to let go of my past and try to feel empathy towards my mother’s plight.  He wants me to heal from the wounds.

So, I keep pushing forward and keep trusting that He knows best, because, well, He does know best.

Some day, perhaps, my feelings won’t be so complicated.

Monday Morning Meditation- Promise

God. Never. Breaks. A. Promise.

Ever.

He can’t.  He’s not human.  Humans break promises all of the time.  God never does.  Which is why we can rely fully and totally on His promises.

While I was considering what was on my mind about God and his promises my mind went to Abraham.  “Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations, just as it had been said to him, “So shall your offspring be.”19 Without weakening in his faith, he faced the fact that his body was as good as dead—since he was about a hundred years old—and that Sarah’s womb was also dead. 20 Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, 21 being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised.” (Rom 4:18-21)

Against all odds, poor decisions, and time, God still delivered on his promise to Abraham, even when it looked like it couldn’t possibly happen.  Even when the world could look at the circumstances and say, “Nope. Ain’t gonna happen.”  Sarah bore Abraham a son in their (very) old age.  Abraham did become the father of the many hundreds of millions.  Even when God told him to sacrifice his son, he still had hope and trusted in the promise.  Else, he wouldn’t have journeyed up the mountain.

Sometimes in my life I forget that God never breaks promises.  He ALWAYS delivers.  Just not always when I THINK he should.  And that’s the hard part. Waiting.  Trusting.  Hoping.  Faith in God’s promises.  That he WILL deliver, at the exact moment he intends to.

Lord, help me to trust and to hold on just a little longer while waiting for you to do what  you promised.

5mf- Catch

Catch-

Catch me if you can.

I am running ahead at full speed.

Catch me if you can.

I fly by to fast to see.

Catch me if you can.

I run breathlessly as I wait.

Catch me if you can.

My need is for speed.

Catch me you did.

As you help me slow down.

Catch me you did.

As you teach me to breath

Catch me you did.

As you tell me your plan.

Catch me you did.

As you hold me in your hand.

Telling my story, part 2

I had a bad day yesterday.  It took extra effort to stay sane and focused and not allow the dissociation to overwhelm me.  Writing what little I did write was very hard for me.  The good news is that I have a counseling appointment with a professional tonight.

The healing journey can begin…again.

You know that expression “darkest hour is just before the dawn”?  I am in that moment.  I cannot see what is going on right now, nor what is coming.  I simply trust that it is good because I have nowhere else to go.  It is only the grace of God holding back the flood of emotions and feelings that can and will overwhelm me during my counseling sessions.  They should overwhelm me in God’s presence, because that is the place of healing.  My little 3-year old self cannot, and does not want to, hide any longer in the shadows.  Now is her time to come out and be present.  Now is her time to be part of the bigger picture I call my life.  It is time for this final piece to come back to me and be part of my life.

I am waiting for the dawn.

Telling my story…

My stomach is in knots right now.  I have never publicly stated my story before today.  But, I promised that I would write about what did, or did not happen, this past Saturday.

I was supposed to meet with a gifted counselor to work on an important issue, only, it didn’t happen.  Right now I am trying to deal with the reality of this issue moment by moment until I find release.  Meanwhile, it is only by the grace of God that I am functioning normally right now.

I have suffered with dissociative identity disorder (I offered a link to Wikipedia here, but feel free to read about it wherever you like) for many years.  Not in the Faces of Eve kind of way, I do not move in and out of full-blown personalities regularly.  I am not Jane, or Jim, or any other person.  I am always me.  For me, this means when something traumatic happened, I would squirrel away a part of my personality somewhere safe in my subconscious.  This has meant that sometimes, if a particular personality was present, I would only be able to see things from that perspective.  I was still me, but my thoughts were one-dimensional.

In 2000, through some intense therapy, the Lord integrated 5 personalities.  This was both good and strange.  I no longer had 5 voices in my head, I had one voice, my integrated voice.  It took a couple of years to get used to feeling multiple feelings at once.  11 years later, I can say I  have successfully handled all the feelings a person can have in any given situation at once.  I thought that this was the end of that episode of my life.

Recently, I have become aware of a personality.  It hangs out on the edge of my consciousness.  It is waiting to be brought back into the fold, if you will.  Because the Lord has done this in the past, I know He can do it again.  And, I feel certain he will.  Just not yet.   Excuse me while I remember to breath.

This personality is my sexuality.  I experienced sexual abuse starting at around age 3.  I know for certain that this stopped when I was 11 because my mother and stepfather moved us out to the East Coast.  I had multiple abusers, but my father was most consistent offender.  My childhood is fraught with confusion and pain.  In the moments of this chaos, I hid away my sexuality somewhere else.  And, this part of myself has stayed hidden all this time.  God in His wisdom has decided that now is the time for this last piece of myself to be reintegrated into me.  Because of this, my sexuality has been handicapped.  It’s not quite all there.  I cannot fully express myself.  Some of what I have experienced as an adult has been broken, twisted, and tainted.  I have fought to overcome Satan’s version of my sexual identity.  Thoughts and feelings that I did not understand would crop up.  I always knew that things were not quite right, but I did not understand until recently the full extent of my need.  I need to be healed and put back together.  And, only God can do this.

This is the last piece of the puzzle.  I look forward to the day when I can welcome this last part of myself back to where it belongs.  And, I hope that day comes soon.

 

Monday Morning Meditations

I am trying something new here.  I am giving myself a one-word prompt and will just write until I am done writing.  Sort of like the Gypsy Mama’s 5 minute friday, except I will place no time limit on myself.  But, I will not try to think to hard about what to say and will just write.

Honey

Sweet.

Good for me.

At least, not as bad as sugar.

God thinks it’s great enough to say “A land flowing with milk AND honey.”

Honey is part of the promised land.

Sweet. Good for me.  Fulfilling a promise given a long time ago.

Golden.

Pure.

Sweet.

Like God.

Only God is better.

Honey.

Pure love given to me as a promise of plenty and peace.

Sweet.

Honey.

Golden and pure like the sunrise in the East.  Bringing promises of peace and plenty.

Sweet.

Jesus’ love for me that lead to a final sacrifice.

Undeserved by me.

Sweet.

Being with the Father IS the promised land.

Honey.

Pure and sweet.  Golden like the streets of Heaven (so I hear).

A promise to be with the father forever.

Honey from the promised land of peace and plenty.

May I rest in your Glory today Father.

May I feast on your honey.  Sweet. Pure. Golden. Delicious.

Sweet.

Honey.

5mf and other things

First things first.  I did not write in my blog on Wednesday or Thursday.  I feel guilt about this.  Part of me just wants to give up on this whole endeavor.  It’s too hard, I have no audience (that I am aware of), I feel adrift and alone on an ocean of words.  The past couple of days I have been lying in bed in the morning asking the Lord to show me what to do about this whole writing thing, because I am reluctant.  I doubt my skills and my purpose here.  I am trying to be okay with not having an audience and with writing whatever is in my heart, even if other people don’t like it or respond to it.  This is hard.  It is hard to do just because God said so.  I am struggling to be faithful.  I have been asking the Lord for a system that I can count on that would facilitate writing in this blog day after day.  So here is my schedule for the week:

Monday: Monday Morning Meditations (1-word prompts)

Tuesday: Telling My Story

Wednesday: Weekly Bible Study (currently hosted by MK at Beauty for Ashes)

Thursday: Anything goes

Friday: Five minute Fridays (Thank you for this Gypsy Mama!)

Also, I have been holding on just a little longer because something big is coming this Saturday.  A BIG healing.  So the past few days have been just about remembering to breath.  So, if you tune in Tuesday I will explain what did or did not happen Saturday.

Hopefully this will work for me and I will write every day.  Pray for me.

So, this weeks prompt from Gypsy Mama is Ordinary

Sometimes I think I would like to have an ordinary life.  But, really?  My life is anything but ordinary.  Ordinary can be boring.  Sometimes when I talk to people with ordinary lives they say, “Nothing much as changed”.  I feel sad for them.  But, maybe they are okay with ordinary.  Maybe ordinary is their “happy place”.  I guess I find ordinary boring.  Gave me the gift of being a visionary, an adventurer, and a pioneer.  I am constantly building, seeking, pushing forward, and trying something new.  Not out of a need for my life to be less boring, just because I find these things exciting.  I know not everybody is like me.  Some people thrive on maintaining things like a gardener maintains his flowers and vegetables.  Loving, consistent, gentle care come from these people.  I am explosive, hyper, pushy, demanding (in a good way) visionary.  I like to start things and move on to the next thing.  I need the maintainers as much as the maintainers need visionaries.  One without the other would be meaningless.  God made the hand dependent of the foot and vice versa.  With the foot the hand would never get anywhere, with out the hand, the foot would have nothing to do.

Here’s to the visionaries and the maintainers!

Milk

I had no ideas about what to write so I asked the Lord for something to write about.  Four words came to mind: milk, honey, plenty, and promise.  These words obviously go together (Promised Land anyone?), but I believe I am supposed to write from heart about them individually.

The word milk automatically makes me think of the Promised Land.  Moses was sent to bring his people to the land “flowing with milk and honey”.  Evidently God sees this as a good thing.  The one thing that speaks to me about the Promised Land was that everything that the Israelites was available to them in this land, if they just did what God told them to do.  The Israelites had a hard time doing this because it took them 40 years to get there.  But they did get there.

I often see myself as one of the wandering Israelites waiting to get to what God has promised me.  In my mind I can just see over the cliff, just enough to know that the promise is there.  I wonder when I will ever get there.  I ask God, “Haven’t I done enough now?”.  I am so ready for the promises.  I am so ready to be there in the Promised Land.  When can I go Lord?

It occurs to me that perhaps I am already there.  I am like a blind beggar sitting in the lush landscape begging for a scrap.  Satan has feed me enough lies that I believe in my blindness as my reality.  I can just smell the flowing milk and honey, but I have yet to taste it.  Perhaps if I stopped believing I was blind and poor, I might be able to partake in the feast before me.

When I accepted Jesus into my heart, I had access to the abundance of God.  Yet, my heart believed that I was not good enough, or clean enough, or whatever enough to take what is rightfully mine.  I could not tap into the infinite and good resources available to me because I believed the darkness more than I believed the light.

Today, I ask you Lord to take the scales from my eyes so that I can see and partake in all that you have given to me.  Amen.