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Monthly Archives: October 2011

Knee Pad Kind of Day

Yesterday, I had a God day.  That means every part of me is being attacked by Satan.  It happens this way.  I’m tired and tearful, and I do not have the energy to fight this right now.  Satan is throwing painful memories in my way, and they are taking their toll.  I won’t stop having God days, but this really stings.  The liar will not deter me from the Truth.  His darkness will not keep me from the Light.  This is just one of those days where I would be grateful to see just one set of footprints in the sand.  I do not feel I have words right now to ask for what I need.  I am not even sure what that is at this point.  I think I would like nothing more than to crawl up in my Father’s lap and let Him hold me until I fall asleep.  That would be comforting and safe.

But the Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen you and protect you from the evil one.  2 Thessalonians 3:3

God, I need Your strength and protection.   I don’t know that I deserve it, but I’m asking for it.  Thank You for loving me this much.  I’ll be back on my knees later, I’m sure.  Love, Me.

The End.

 
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Posted by on October 29, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

Dear, Little, Scared Me

You were born on August 8, 1968 at 8:26pm in Amarillo, Texas at Northwest Texas Hospital.  You were born to parents who had their own issues and probably had no business raising children.  You were an innocent child growing up in a home where violence, destruction, and selfishness  took precedence over everything else.  You were born to those beaten down on all levels, and they chose to perpetuate those levels onto you.  You had no choice, sweetheart.  You were so little to have such big, ugly, painful things happen to you.  You did nothing to deserve those evil, vile things.  You were made to touch others and others touched you in ways that were  breaking God’s heart.  You were made to watch things no child should ever have to see or watch.  Multiple perpetrators of wrongdoing and complete evil entered your life mostly by way of the maternal figure who was drowning in selfishness with no desire to be saved.  Nobody knew your painful secrets eating away at your soul, your value, your worthiness.  You did not know it was ok to tell anyone about it either.  All the wrong forced upon you led you to believe you were only worth those wrongs.  As you became older, you believed your worth was measured through sexual favors and behaviors.  You only did what you already knew.  Self-medication became a key player in your life that started around the age of twelve.  Smoking weed, drinking, and continuing to give guys what you so believed would make them love you became the norm.  Becoming an older teenager into early adulthood became a time where those self-medicating behaviors became so relevant, you didn’t care to look at other options.  You had been mistreated by everyone who lived in your childhood home.  Blame was put on you for what was known, and that was only the beginning of pushing those people out of your life.  Still relying on alcohol and sexual pains as a way to survive, you could have lost your life.  You could have taken someone elses.  The depression you knew nothing about erupted all over the place in your mid to late 20’s.  Alcohol playing a bigger part, was numbing those painful feelings, and was  just being your best friend.  You entered counseling hoping to get help not understanding that you could not be “fixed” without working so very hard.  Realizing that you HAD to work hard to move forward, you ended up hospitalized multiple times due to just wanting to die because you felt your family would be so much better off.  You didn’t have anyone beating you up or hurting you anymore.  So, they must not love you.  You started inflicting pain on yourself because it is what you knew and oddly what was comforting.  You were given a challenge to use the intelligence someone else noticed in you to continue your education.  You did.  You made it all the way through graduate school, and you now help others.  You are worthy, valuable, and enough without those self-medicating things.  Let God be the healing you need.  It’s ok, He can handle the job.  He did not make those things happen to you, but He loves you enough to use those nightmarish things for good.  It is ok to let Him.  It’s ok, baby.  You are loved.  You are full of value and worth.  Satan will fight you every step of the way, but you have your Father on your side.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.”

I love you little, scared one.  I will take care of you the best I can.

Love, Big, Healthier Me

 
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Posted by on October 26, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

Satan’s Punching Bag

Jack Dempsey, Joe Louis, Muhammad Ali are names that are familiar to those whether or not you follow boxing.  To become champions such as they were and legends as they are, they have had to throw many punches and learn how to throw them correctly.  They have also had to learn how to take shots as well.  They perfected body blows and right hooks, uppercuts, and left jabs.  Imagine the hours of training and practice on the body bags in the gym.  Thursday, I felt for those inanimate objects that have been repeatedly beaten on by those and others.  Thursday, I felt like Satan’s punching bag.  I felt with each step I took I was being punched right in the heart.  My gut felt each blow, and the life just leaked out of me slowly.  I feel this way when I have had a God day within recent days.  My God day was on Wednesday.

I felt His love and guidance in my heart and soul.  He was my trainer, and I felt like I could not be beat Wednesday.  I gave hope through spreading God’s word to a patient who so desperately needed it.  She had no hope when she had awakened Wednesday morning.  I talked of God wanting her to keep her eyes on Him otherwise she would drown.  She was already drowning.  I talked to her about how God believes that she was someone worth dying for.  I talked to her about God creating her with His own hands, and that she is so very worthy because she exists.  She let me know that by the end of her family therapy and her individual therapy, she was once again hopeful.  God was in my corner on Wednesday, and I knew it.  I felt pride in being able to speak to her about Him however broken those stories may have been.  I do not know God’s word well enough to rattle off scripture and verses and chapters.  I do, however, find myself fond of Psalm 18 for multiple reasons, but that part of the Bible just gives me hope, and I knew I had to share that with her.  I wrote down “Psalm 18” for her, and she said, “well, then that’s where I’ll start.”  I’m in training, and God is in my corner.  He’s my Coach.  He’s my biggest fan.  He knows my biggest opponent, uh, outside of myself.

Satan entered the ring to spar with me Thursday.  He was winning with each massive blow to what was Wednesday.  I felt that Satan was replacing my God day that was still inside of me with a pile of destructive nothingness.  Imagine what it looked like that horrific day in NYC when the WTC buildings had fallen into ruins.  That is what I felt like inside on Thursday.  I felt any feelings of pride were being shot down by guilt and shame.  I was waiting for each round to end, so I could get some good, clean breaths.  Satan had already been attacking my physical being with illness and pain, but at this point, he was attacking my spiritual well-being.  It sounds like I knew this was happening when it was, but it was not until I explained the nothingness that I was feeling to someone else that it was brought to my attention.  I know that Satan likes to use me as his punching bag.  I know he enjoys throwing cheap shots and low blows.  I know, however, that I will always win with God in my corner.  Every single word that leaves my mouth worshipping God is a TKO to Satan.  The day I leave this Earth, and I ascend into Heaven because I will have eternal life, I will have my legitimate KO against Satan.  Keep punching on me, Satan.  I refuse to go down.  I am already a heavyweight champion in His eyes.

 
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Posted by on October 21, 2011 in Uncategorized

 

The Religious Wrong

I often fear the way I pray is not the correct way.  The correct way??  Yeah, I said it.  I feel that sometimes I should pray out loud or type it out somewhere.  I get very self-conscious about what my words sound like and if they are ok.  I mean the words I say, and they do come from the most loving part of my heart.  This fear I have goes along with many other injustices I have experienced within the religious realm.  I refuse to consider myself religious, but I am open to declaring I am spiritual.  Throughout my life I have had to, HAD TO, go to church in a particular, specific religion.  I detested HAVING to go.  I especially felt such disdain for it due to the ones making me go sitting at home while I was going.  I learned how the beliefs of this certain group were by the way I was treated by them during my childhood.  I learned that they believed bigotry was acceptable when the preacher as this particular church made a racial joke.  Um, I was sickened by this “joke”.  I hated being a part of that group of people.  I learned that those who thought it was funny were not those I wanted to be around at all.  I was 11 years old at this time.  At this time, I was also made to believe, by this same preacher, that I was going to burn in hell if I did not go down to that alter, in that minute, and let God into my heart.  I was scared and bawling because I just knew I was going to burn in hell for eternity.  I went down there in fear.  I know God would not have wanted me to come to Him that way.  I had experiences like that into adulthood.  The last church I was a member of did not help in nurturing my spiritual side.  One trip to Tulsa, Oklahoma to a Women of Faith event showed me that I could never allow myself to trust a church again.  To make a long story short, the preacher’s wife told me that because I did not wear makeup or do my hair, I must be a lesbian.  Um, really?!?!  I was also very upset that trip as my father told me he wanted to kill himself right before I was to go on this trip.  I was told by the preacher’s wife’s friend while I was crying about it that, “nobody wants to come to your pity party, so stop crying.”  Um, really?!?!  I was “taught” how to pray by the preacher’s wife………the words I should use and such.  She left me alone to pray the devil out of me, yes, she believed the devil was in me because I did not want to wear makeup and do my hair.  She came back, and I shared with her how I prayed, and she immediately told me it was the wrong way.  I did it just the way she told me to do it, though.  How could that be wrong??  I was ashamed of myself, and I have had that fear of others knowing what I pray since then.  I only share my prayers with one person, and I know that she would never judge me for those prayers, but that fear, insecurity, and shame raise their ugly heads.  I always ask if my prayers are ok.  She asks if I mean them.  I do.  I always do.  She also states that she is not one to judge how anyone prays.  I do know that if I speak to God from my heart, that it is ok.  He knows what is in my heart.  He knows what is about to spill from my lips.  He loves me regardless.  He does not want me to feel shame.  HE. LOVES. ME.  (with no makeup and undone hair even)

 
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Posted by on October 13, 2011 in Uncategorized

 
 
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