Sui…well, you get the idea…

Within a few days, I read four things about suicide. One was a post at DIDiva where she gives a link to an article in the Huffington Post about a young man who killed himself. Reading that really made me very sad for him and for all the others who feel so alone…who feel such overwhelming darkness…and who feel that taking their life is the only real option. I am glad that he wrote a letter explaining what he did. Maybe it will help others.

I think it was the same day that I also read an online friend’s description of the aftermath of a suicide attempt. She especially wrote about the effects on the body. She also included a link to another person I know online whose blog I had never read…although we had crossed paths. That person mentioned an attempt in her year review…which led me to explore her blog a while.

I kept reading and wanting to respond, yet could not bring what I was feeling into words. Or at least not into words that I felt would do any good or have any kind of usefulness. I finally decided to write a post here instead, but had neither the time or wherewithal to put my feelings into thoughts and my thoughts into words on the screen. I just kept mulling it over…and experiencing emotions.

I can think of reasons that posts like that draw me. One is that it is possible that my sister committed suicide. I don’t know that it was intentional, but she did die as the result of her own actions. Some of those actions took the long, slow route…like bulimia and alcoholism. Boy was she a fighter…when the cult was not slapping her down.

I have received different stories about what happened and have even spoken with the coroner and read her report. I know my sister. There are things in the report that are fishy. But, hey, that is not exactly surprising considering how strong the cult is in that area. For example, my sis was a hard-core bulimic. For that alone, she was really living on borrowed time. Add to that alcohol. Know that those two things do to the body? It isn’t pretty. Yet, her stomach and liver were “unremarkable”! Excuse me! Unremarkable???? That is so wrong! Nothing about her teeth or knuckles, either. Personally, I think the family she lived with wanted to get rid of her and what they describe to me backs up my thought.

So that is one reason writings like that catch my eye. Another is that I have friends who struggle with this issue…a lot. And I care very much about them. I don’t want to lose them and I can only pray that they really know how much they mean to me…without them feeling pressured by that. I hope that makes sense.

I especially appreciated the post describing the aftermath because I have thought of suicide most of my life. I am pretty much beyond it now, but there was a time when it was on my mind…a LOT. It was not so much that I wanted to die. I just wanted the pain to stop…which is what I suspect happened to my sister. I think she was trying to number herself and over did it…or her battered body just finally gave out.

So…why am I alive? There are a number of reasons. I have always been determined not to leave that legacy to my loved ones…especially my children. I know that survivors of a loved one’s suicide are a lot more likely to commit suicide themselves. I did not want to put them at risk. Therefore, I searched for ways to do it that would not be obvious…that no one would think my death was intentional. I couldn’t find one.

There was also the fact that I believe I am here for a reason. The end of my life is G-d’s domain…not mine. Hard as it has been at times…I want to honor that. Fear of hell used to keep me alive, but I no longer believe that people go to hell for taking their lives. For other things, yes…but not for that. Not wanting to have to stand before my heavenly Abba explaining why I did it was compelling enough, though.

There is one thing I have found, however. There are times when the darkness and pain can become so severe that all of those reasons start to become meaningless. No matter how strong they are in normal life, when the darkness gets that strong, they fade into the background. Holding onto life becomes a challenge. Even now, I have my days when I want to go Home. I don’t act on it, but I can sure want it.

As far back as High School I would pray for G-d to take me Home as I slept. I don’t remember if I prayed that in Junior High. Junior High is when my childhood memories start to come into focus…although I am missing things from that, too. My mother told me about a major change during that time that I still only have a single incident flashback about. So I know I am still missing stuff.

Anyway, this is what I have been thinking on for the last few days. To all my friends (and anyone else out there) who are struggling with this issue…please, hold on. I do understand. Feel free to share with me how you feel. I know that can help. Either email me or find someone to talk to. Please know that someone cares. I know…when the darkness is that deep it may not really matter. But I feel a need to write it anyway.

Edit in on 1/17: When I wrote this the other day, there was something I wanted to include, but forgot. There is another reason I hesitated to do anything…I was terrified of surviving. There are a lot of aspects of surviving that I dreaded…such as shame, facing the anger and hurt of others and having others not trust me because they were always worried that I might try it again.

The biggest fear, though, was the possibility of surviving in a body that was broken beyond repair. I was terrified that I could end up paralyzed or with some kind of irreparable brain damage that would leave me dependent upon others (and, in my mind, a burden to them) for the rest of my life. I would feel like a double failure…unable to take my life and now a mess for others to deal with. That was my reality. That was my thinking in those times.

Cruelty and Healthy Boundaries…

What my mother has done is cruel. I keep trying to empathize and to understand her pain. But not matter how much I empathize…no matter how much I forgive…it still hurts like hell. I am the unwanted daughter. I did not step up to the plate. I did not take over. I stepped out of line. I left. I have no desire to be a princess other than in the One True Creator God’s kingdom.

I will never live up to her expectations. Her expectations (and his) lead to death. I have chosen a different path. If they do not want me…they can forget my son. I was actually willing to let them talk to him on the phone, but if they don’t want me…forget it. That is not being selfish…it is being real. It is not being vindictive…it is setting boundaries…healthy boundaries.

Boundaries are not OK in the cult. My whole life I had no boundaries. I did not know where I ended and other people began. I was trained to be a chameleon…to anticipate others needs/wants. Those in the cult who knew the trigger words and actions could get anything they wanted. NO MORE!!

I was accessed by a “Christian” therapist after we moved here. He had experience with cult clients. Little did I know that he was not only cult himself…but that we had met many years ago. It ends here…and now! I will not kowtow to my parents. I will not kowtow to anyone but my Lord…and He does not ask me to. He lifts my head to look into His eyes so that I can see His healing love.

I hurt. I am angry. I do not deserve to be treated this way. Even IF I had been the worst daughter on the planet…rather than simply and imperfect one…I do not deserve this. I have reached out via email for a year and a half. It has gone nowhere. I tried. My conscience is clear. I have done what I can. It is their loss. They can blame me all they want…but they have a part in this. I am an adult. I will not submit to them or to their control. I will not go back to the way things were.

So I will continue to mourn what was and I will mourn what never was. I will mourn the dream of having a somewhat regular family. I will keep my heart open until there is nothing left…and at that point…I will mourn for what will never be. I have dreams. I have always had dreams. Many of them are just broken dreams…turning to dust beneath my feet. Oh, well.

I have survived. I will survive. Nay…I will thrive! In spite of how hard my life is right now…I have more freedom than I ever did living under their control. The Creator has given me the gift of who I am…all of me. I am His…and no one else’s…no one’s.

I hope we can make peace before she dies…same with him. But if it does not happen…I refuse to beat myself up with guilt that is not mine.

About the theme…and other stuff…

OK…the other theme was driving me nuts. I could not get the background light enough without washing out some of the text…and I could not adjust the color of the text. So…I am trying this one out for a while. It is called “Neat”. I don’t really have time to mess with themes any more right now.

On other lines of thought…I started a poetry blog. It has a real original title…NOT! But at least I am pretty consistent! A Survivor’s Poetry. You can either click on the link here or you can find the link at the top of the RSS blog links in the right hand column. I can appreciate that there are some who might only want to read poetry…or only look at art…so, I made a blog for each.

My computer goes back soon. I don’t really like it, but I also don’t like the idea that I might not be to get it turned on one of these days. *sigh* I don’t know if they will fix it or not. One guy told me they will send a check for sure. Another guy said the first guy had no right to say that…that they might be able to fix it…or send an entirely different PC. I don’t mind fixing…but I am not thrilled with a different PC unless it is the same kind or better.

I am tired. I am grieving. This grieving has to do with my ex. Not that I am grieving him…but as I see his family on FB interacting with my first marriage sons…well…I am just so aware of losing not just a spouse…but a whole family. I know it had to be…in my head. But in my heart…it is another story. There is a part of me who wants to say “hello”, but I was so vilified and lied about that I don’t really dare. I have regained some connections…partially…but not all…which is actually probably a good thing.

I am continuing to work on getting my art into jpeg format. The motivation is the Webinar I am doing in August. But this is also good for me…to have all my pieces sorted through and categorized and numbered. The Webinar is being done by Survivorship. I will put a link in the sidebar. The Webinars are being done as a community service and also to raise funds for ongoing Survivorship services.

As for my parents…still no word. Such is life.

Letter to My Parents

Back in July of 2008, I sent my parents an email after my mother left a message on my in-law’s answering machine with a new phone number. I got a one word answer. Thus started some VERY sporadic, mostly terse, email communication with them. I was not really expecting anything…just testing the waters.

Well…here it is almost two years later. I felt it was time to write a summarizing email. I really hate loose ends…so I am tying a knot in one right now.

Here it is:

I really thought a lot about whether or not to write this. It almost ended up being a coin toss…seeing as how that is about how much I believe I mean to either of you.

Oh, I know…I can hear it now…how I am the “big bad daughter” who “used and abused you all those years” and who “lied to you” and who “hurt you deeply”, yada…yada…yada.

Well…I didn’t do all those things and I don’t really buy the whole thing about how “terribly hurt” you. You see…you don’t really behave as if terribly hurt. What you behave like to me is more like you are angry because your covers were pulled and your plan did not work. You did not get what you wanted…and you still aren’t.

You, mom, wrote some real heart things. That actually gave me hope (silly me) that you actually wanted to communicate…for real. Yet, when I answered you…you did not respond. Oh, OK…I get it. You can be “real” and express your “truth” and your “hurt”…but when I do likewise…forget about it.

As for you, dad…all you seem to be interested in is what I remember. The feeling I get is that you just want to debate the validity of my memories. Well…I am not going to share with you…for reasons already previously stated. And even if I were to share with you…I will not debate anything. I know what is true.

Well…if that is all you really you want…that’s OK. The few communications we have had in the last year or so have basically confirmed to me what I had already suspected was most likely the case…that nothing has really changed. Well…that is not entirely true…I have changed. I am no longer the weak woman/child responding to your manipulation cues.

I also know it is not really about me. It is about my son. He is the only one you are really interested in. You don’t want a relationship with me…only him. That is all it has really been about since the beginning.

I know about your plan to move in and gain total access to him while manipulating me and attempting to push me over the edge. Thing is…it didn’t work. I have to admit…you did come close. But you didn’t allow for the Holy Spirit knowing what your plan was and revealing it to me. He is bigger than anything you can come up with. He is the One who thwarted your plan…not me. He is the One who led me to the truth…and to real help.

I can’t vouch for your relationship with our Creator…but mine is real…very real. I have actually seen Him protect me. And others…who knew nothing of the situations I was in…actually saw angels protecting me.

Now…I want you to understand something. I am not angry…although my email may sound like I am. No…it is with something more like resignation and sadness that I write. Sometimes…that is just the way life is.

I pray for you. I hope that you will find real peace and healing as I have. Have I totally arrived yet? Of course not…not until Yeshua/Jesus comes back. But I have come a long way…and I pray for you, too, to find that before you die.

In a way…this email is really about saying “goodbye”…at least for now. I am not really locking the door shut. I am too persistent of a dreamer to do that…in addition to the fact that I believe in honoring you both. I know…you are probably rolling your eyes and choking at that one. It doesn’t matter. The truth is the truth whether you choose to accept it or not.

Anyway…here’s the deal. I will respond to whatever you write…IF…you show me that you really want to communicate and work through some things as a family…and IF…you don’t attack me. I will NOT stand for being attacked. The truth can be spoken in love.

If you don’t want to…I am OK with that…sad…but OK. If you don’t…you are welcome to write me and tell me so…or not. If I don’t hear from you I will simply take it that you are not ready to do that. Perhaps…in the future…you will be. Just remember…none of us knows just how much “future” we really have. Any one of us could go on any day…and with your ages…that is even more likely with you two.

So…yes…this is a sort of “goodbye”…or perhaps more accurately…an “until later”. Ever the optimist…I will keep hoping. As for being a realist…well…I will let my heavenly Abba take care of that.

Go with G-d…the L-rd and Creator of the Universe…YHWH…Abba, Yeshua/Jesus and Holy Spirit.

love,

(first name)

What Do You Do With Anger?

I feel like saying something. I feel like wagging a finger in someone’s face. I feel like getting a bit loud. I feel like yelling. I feel like…what??? I don’t know. I don’t do anger very well. I try to be very understanding, very forgiving. I try to let go of my wants for the sake of others. We give…for their sakes…but they don’t even have a clue how much we give. And for one of them…that is OK. But the other. I need some acknowledgment. When you work so hard to present as “normal”…whatever the heck that is…it is so easy for the other one to forget who you really are…what you really are…who ALL you really are. It has been building up for some time.

So…what, exactly, DO you do with anger? With frustration? With an inability to get to what you feel you need? An inability to do what you feel you need to do? To process all the stuff you have had to put on hold for the last few years. Talk about healing interrupted! I know it is not totally interrupted, but in so many ways it HAS been.

I have grown in the sense that I have actually been holding it together through all of this. Well…I believe it is my Abba who has really been holding me together. Many times I have reached the end of my proverbial rope and it is my Abba who has kept me going…who is holding me together.

I am human. I have feelings…sometimes very conflicting feelings…depending upon the who and the what. Again…something that tends to be forgotten by the very one I most need to remember that. I am OK…but that does not mean that I do not have those feelings to battle at times. He does, too, and even from some of the same things. We each have our stuff. And then…I have stuff for more than one.

I think it is time to remind someone. I am praying about the how and the when. Do I write it?  Do I speak it? And then there is who should write it or speak it? What “voice” do I use? What will be best heard? Best received? I am not talking about manipulation here…I am talking about practicality. Know your audience. Speak accordingly.

Is it hopeless? Sometimes it feels like it is. Some times…it feels as if things will never change.  It feels as if I will always have to hide a lot of myself. I have to accept that life might just be that way. Can I do that? Can I trust enough for that?

Our living situation is going to change…most likely during this summer/fall…maybe sooner. That will bring a lot of challenges of its own…while also opening up some things for me. How will I handle that? I don’t know yet. I am trying to get prepared for both change…and for no change. I really hope that I do not have to face no change.

Not Sure What’s Up

I’m not sure what’s up. I just feel blue and emotional…like I want to cry. I really wish I had a private place where I could go to just “be”. In this situation, I always have to be “on”. There is no room I can go into…no door I can shut. I just keep praying and trusting that this is not setting me back on my healing. I keep praying that I am somehow at least maintaining…even if I don’t feel as if I am moving forward.

There are so many things I miss…like doing art and being able to write poetry. Oh…it’s not that I have nothing, but not what I would really like to have. I did find Wordle, but it isn’t really my choice. It is a program that runs for me. Writing can be very difficult because of all the distractions. Poetry writing is even harder. I know this will pass.

I want to heal. I want to move forward. I want the freedom to express my emotions and to just be. So many times I tend to feel locked up inside…and, basically, helpless to do much of anything about it. There are physical constraints that I can do nothing about. I must be patient. I must keep trusting…and that is just what I choose to do. I will not give up. I refuse to give up.

My Sister

My sister had a brave heart. She was beautiful and childlike. She was a fighter who would not give up. She was trapped…caught in an unseen web that was too sticky for her to break free from. They had her where they wanted her.

My sister ran away from one cult family right into the arms of another…but she didn’t know. Neither of us did. At that time, we were both amnesic to our true history.

I wonder…did she ever figure it out before she died? Did she finally remember her childhood abuse…the younger years? Did she remember “everything”…or just the minor “stuff” she used as an excuse to run away?

My sister kept trying…in recovery and out of it. I remember her telling me how she had to fight with the recovery people to get her a counselor. She kept saying she needed one, but they did not want to give it to her…not even in those fancy, high class, expensive recovery places.

Was it because it was being paid for by his parents? After all…counseling might mean that she would remember something…something important…something damning…about them. Maybe she would finally wake up to the truth about her boyfriend and his parents…the family she lived with. Or…maybe she wanted a counselor because she already had an inkling of the truth? I will never know in this life.

This is the time of year that I especially think of my sister…as her birthday approaches in a couple of days. And I wonder about her death…and sometimes, I wonder if she even really died…or if they have her holed up somewhere. It didn’t look like her. And my father would not leave me alone with her. If he had…what would I have done? I don’t know. We weren’t supposed to touch the body…but I think I would have. It did NOT look like her. I had seen her within the last year.

My father said it did, but he had not seen her in years…so far as I know. But then…it is not exactly like I came from a truthful family. Ha! “Family”. What is THAT supposed to be? Not the caricature I grew up with.

It’s funny how everything seemed to be so good…on the outside looking in. All the memories I concocted about growing up seemed so OK…yet I was so not OK.  Stories my mother told me were woven through my mind with photos from the family albums. Childhood. Sure…that was my childhood…only…it wasn’t.

I remember the day I suddenly realized that it was all a lie…a fantasy. It has been so long now that I cannot remember if it was before or after I realized that I could not remember growing up with my sister. It is as if she did not exist…yet I know for fact she was there…in the same house with me.

So many things are buried in the mists of amnesia with a tiny flash of a snippet here and there that blazes through so fast that I can barely figure out what just went by. Yet…those flashes ARE there. And I do have the photographs. My sister was there. Some of the photos I took…yet, I can barely see anything beyond the photos themselves. Whatever I see is more like a surreal picture in my mind.

She died on my birthday. At least…I am told she died. I saw what was supposed to be her body…but it sometimes haunts me to this day. I know she was becoming “inconvenient”. I would not put it past them to agree behind closed doors while pretending to hate each other to me. Two families…warring for her body. It was sick. It was insane. It was my sister.

I will never get the chance to get to know her. Her living…except for the few times in the later years when I finally did meet up with her…is buried deep within. What I do remember makes me wonder if I really want to remember the rest. I don’t know. Maybe I should just create a life with her just like I created a life of my own? No…I want to honor her by remembering the truth…if I can.

Tough Time of Year and Survivor Guilt

This is always a tough time of year. Knowing what I do about what goes on around this time of year…well, it is really hard to just skate through it. In some ways, I am effected less. In other ways, more.

I was doing pretty well…or so I thought. I don’t know if it just crept up on me…or if the rest of life just combined with it to kind of push me over the edge a bit. I find that I have been battling some depression lately…and I am teary. There are things in my life that could certainly cause that…aside from being a ritual abuse survivor. However, I really cannot assume that the RA stuff does not also impact me.

I find it interesting that I feel almost guilty when I feel OK during this time of year…when I am able to push aside my survivor issues and just enjoy life. It almost feels as if I am betraying the ones who will die this year…the ones who will be abused and tortured…the ones who will be filmed and sold. They deserve to be remembered…to be prayed for. So…when I feel better…I almost feel as if that is a betrayal of them.

Yet…could it not actually be an honoring of them…in the sense that at least one of us got out and conquered. Well, not conquered exactly…but was able to find joy and at least be able to somewhat function? I don’t know. These are just the things I am thinking of…the things I am feeling.

I love this season…but hate this time of year. I love the colors and smells, but hate what is going on in hidden places where people do not want to see.

Survivor guilt. Why should I make it out? Why should I be able to enjoy life? Yet…it is in the enjoyment of life…in spite of my history…that, perhaps, my truest victory lies. I win when I can enjoy any aspect of life…any at all. I win when I can enjoy my freedom…instead of being bound to them…instead of being their slave. I win! So, why can’t I just enjoy the winning? Because I know others are still suffering.

Many who have broken free from the cult groups still suffer in body and soul. Many have not broken free and they definitely still suffer. My own sister never really made it out. Do I celebrate life in her honor? Yes. Still…I cannot help but feel some guilt. At least…I think it is called guilt. I just know I struggle with having too much knowledge. Ignorance, though, is not safe. *sigh*

One of Those Days

Ever have one of those days? You know the kind…where you are not crying, yet tears are sliding down your cheeks? I had one of those days yesterday.

I had things inside and just really needed to write…so I did. As I wrote, the tears started flowing…no crying…just silent tears. I went back and forth between writing and doing other things, but the tears just kept coming off and on for a while.

I am not sure what they are about. It would seem safe to assume that they were related to what I was writing about…which, I guess, could be summed up as disappointment? I don’t know. Maybe it was just sadness?

Then again…I guess it could just be a whole mixture of things going on inside that simply needed to come out.

Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed. All I want to do is to just sit at Yeshua’s feet…or perhaps more accurately…to sit on my Abba’s lap…my heavenly Abba.  I need to let His love wash over me so that I can walk in His healing Shalom and in His ways. I praise Him for loving me and choosing me as His daughter…for that is what I am…a daughter of the Most High God!

Thoughts on the Time of Year

What a time! I love the Autumn. It is my favorite season…on the outside. On the inside, I hate this time of year. I know what happens at the end of October and I hate it!

Most of the time I can push it to the back of my mind and heart. Yet…it always comes up. Somewhere, somehow, the thought of the children comes to mind…and I find myself fighting tears and lifting up a prayer for them.

What do I pray for? Well, I would like to think He would stop the whole hideous thing, but I know that is not realistic. It is not because God is not big enough, or strong enough, to stop it. It is because He is bound by His own rules. He gave us humans the ability to choose between good and evil, between doing what is right and doing what is wrong. Gentleman that He is, He won’t go back on His word. We were given choice and until He comes back and removes evil once and for all, we will have people committing evil acts.

So, no, I don’t really pray for Him to stop it…at least not very strongly. I do pray for Him to intervene. I pray for Him to protect the hearts and souls of those who will have to endure this time. I pray for Him to protect them from the pain and to take them quickly home. I pray for supernatural comfort to the victims.

I also pray for Him to open the eyes of the good people who are too afraid to take a real and serious look at what is going on around them. For those who are willing to see, I pray that He will open their hearts and give them courage to take a stand. Yet, I hold out little hope for that happening.

If people won’t even take a stand to stop the culture of death we can see so openly, how can I expect them to work to stop the hidden deaths? When people, including babies, are “legally” sacrificed through abortion and through starvation in the “medical” system on the altar of convenience and money…right out in the open, how can there be concern for the children and people being sacrificed in hidden rituals? They are all being sacrificed…whether openly or in secret and the temporary prince and ruler of this earth is laughing at the stupid humans who are serving him through these (and other) practices.

My heart always breaks when I think of these things. However, this time of year I am more keenly aware of it all. It is a reminder to me that this is not my true home. My true home in with God in His kingdom. What is to come after all this ugliness is a beauty so incredible that those who have seen it and come back are unable to adequately describe it. That is what I long for.

What’s It All About?

I guess it’s the time of year that keeps making me struggle with sadness. I know what is going on…and what is coming up. Anyone who has been through SRA knows exactly what I am talking about.

However, I have a purpose and a calling…to love, honor and glorify my Creator. It is important that I not allow anything to interfere with that. All of my life contributes to that on some level…even my history. Without Him, I would have never survived.

I was blessed with a very real heart connection with Yeshua/Jesus at a very young age, so I had the comfort of that connection with Him through it all. I truly do not believe I would have survived it any other way. Without His help…without His presence and strength and protection…I would not be here.

Then again, I would be with Him in a far better place…which goes back to my calling and purpose. I was allowed to survive and live for a reason. Even if it is only as a testimony to the fact that He is real and got me through it…that is enough. However, I think there is more to it than that. I believe He wants me to reach out to others who have been through it…to encourage them in any way that I can.

I know there are some who would read this and get very angry, especially when I talk of protection. I understand…and I do want to address that issue…very soon. Should I forget, anyone reading this is welcome to comment on it or email me at the above address on my page to remind me.

Right now, though, I recognize that my purpose is not about me. It is about my Creator. He brought all this into existence for a reason. I am part of that reason. He wanted a people who would love Him…not by force as puppets who had no choice…but out of choice simply because of who He is.

He is the Creator. If for no other reason, He deserves to be loved and worshiped and glorified for that one. I know…again…there are some who will be angry at that, too, because they ascribe the evil and wickedness in this world to either an impotent God or an angry, unloving God. In reality, it all comes from the rebellion of humankind to live according to His ways. It was people who destroyed the perfect world He created with their rebellion.

Yet, knowing they would do that, He created us all anyway. Why? Love. The truth is, we have all messed up so badly…each of us in our own way…none of us is perfect…that we all deserve to be obliterated. He does not do that, though. Why? Love. He is giving us chance after chance to do things His way…to recognize how very broken and fallen we really are and turn to Him for help. Not help for our own purposes and heart desires, but real help…help to live according to the good ways He has laid out for us.

I am trying to find my way in all of that. How can I love Him more? How can I live my life in such a way as to glorify Him more? How can I live my life to help and love others more? See…I don’t see life as being about me…but about Him. He is the Creator…I am merely the created. Yet, being merely the created…I am also the apple of His eye and the object of His love. All who are truly His children are.

Before I became His child, I was the object of His wrath. Clearly, though, He did not want it to be so. That is why He gave us His Son Yeshua/Jesus, so that, through what He did, we could move from being objects of wrath to being objects of love…as it was in the beginning.

People don’t like the idea of an angry God. Well, I don’t know about you, but I get angry when I see evil. If I had created a good creature, placed it in a beautiful perfect place, enjoyed sweet fellowship it, laid only one rule for it, and then had it turn and rebel against me, I think I would be very sad…and very angry at the evil behind that rebellion.

I don’t see His wrath as being against me…but actually for me. He wants what is best for me…not what is evil. By rebelling, I am choosing evil. When Adam and Eve rebelled, they chose evil. Anything that goes against the loving, perfect Creator is evil. Anything that goes against one of His…goes against Him.

Yes…I see even His anger as a sign of His ultimate love.

Trying to See

I have been doing a lot of thinking…a lot of soul searching…and a lot of praying. It has caused me to look back over the last few months of posts I have made here…trying to see what I wrote with new eyes. I have become aware of the fact that a couple of persons are upset about some things I have written…persons that, as far as I knew, were no longer reading here. It was not my intent to upset anyone.

Something happened a couple of months or so ago that I have written about here…without naming names or places or giving any identifying information. I have written some of my thoughts and feelings and perspectives on it…just as I write my thoughts and feelings about all sorts of things that have happened in my life.

Since I have become aware that at least one of these persons has been continuing to read, and of the resulting feelings of upset, I figured that I really should take a look at what all I have written here since the whole thing happened.

Was what I wrote inappropriate? I don’t know…I don’t think so. If I had identified the persons involved, or made it obvious to others who they were, then yes, most definitely it would have been wrong. Still…if someone is that upset…I need to take a look at it. One can be “technically” right and yet “morally” wrong.

There are almost 50 posts that have been made since it happened. Of those posts, I could only find direct references to what happened in about a half dozen posts. I have not deleted any.

There are about a dozen other posts addressing some other topics. When I wrote about those topics, I drew from all sorts of things I have experienced over the years, including the incident these persons are referring to. So, yes, there are some references, most pretty vague, that consist of anywhere from one sentence to a handful of sentences, within these other topic posts. Even as I reread them, they did not bring the incident to mind for me…other than the few sentences here and there. I know that the incident was not foremost in my mind at the time that I wrote them.

Until the other day, I had not written directly about it for over a month and indirectly only once that I can find. I am saddened that anyone is upset by what I write…especially when I actually wrote so little about it. Unless something happens to trigger my thoughts and feelings in that direction, I see no reason to write about it specifically any more.

That does not mean that there may not be aspects of it that won’t get written about simply because life is like that. One thing overflows into another. There are many common experiences and feelings among people in general and among survivors in particular. It would be difficult to write about much of anything without someone seeing themselves in it somewhere. I often see myself in what others write.

I don’t really know what more I can do.

Deep, Abiding Sadness

There are times when I feel such a deep ache…an abiding sadness. It seems to go all through me to the depths of my being. It is in those times that I find myself wanting to cry. It is not really a feeling of despair as it is simply…sadness.

I am not totally sure where it comes from…or why it is there. I only know that it comes…a lot. Perhaps…it is from a loss of dreams? Perhaps…I had the wrong dreams to begin with? I don’t know.

I find myself yearning…longing, but for what? I want to want to

Yet, if I truly trust Him for my wellbeing, then I guess I have to accept that I am right where I am supposed to be. I am supposed to be right here…with my deep, abiding sadness…and with my yearning and longing…and with my inner battle.

Is this what the rest of life is meant to be for me? I don’t know. I have had times of wonder and joy…and I still do…at times. I like to believe that this is temporary and that, at some point this side of heaven, I will again experience more of that. For now, though, I sit here in my sadness…wondering…seeking…reaching out to Him.

Feeling Down and Thoughts of Home

I have really been feeling down lately. I am not sure why exactly. Maybe it is just the stress of life altogether. I don’t know. It just seems like I have been having more “survivor” days. Although I cannot ignore having survived a lot, being a survivor is not my core identity. Being a daughter of the Most High God is.

I work hard on my healing. I work on my relationship with God. Well, maybe I should rephrase that. My relationship with Yahweh is very real and it, along with healing, is a gift from Him. What I mean by “working on” is that I do what is in front of me to do. When He reveals something to me I try to pay attention. It also means that I try to make sure I am spending time with Him, speaking and listening, heart to heart. I make time to read His love letter to me…to get to know Him and His heart better.

I work on embracing truth…the truth about who I am in Him…the truth about my history, my present and my future. I know from where I have come. I know where I am. I know where I am going…ultimately. It is that part between here and the ultimately that holds a lot of questions for me. I really have to trust that it is all in Yahweh’s hands. He has a plan for my life and that is what I want to focus on. Nay,…let me change that. It is HIM I want to focus on…His love for me and my love for Him. THAT is what brings a smile to my face and heart. It is nothing I can do. No, the joy in my heart comes from Him and from Him alone.

Yet, along with that deep inner joy is also a deep inner sadness. I see the junk of this world…all the pain and the suffering. I see how horribly people treat one another. I have seen death, cruelty, abuse. Life in this fallen world is not a pretty picture. I have no hope, really, for a good life here. Don’t get me wrong. There ARE good things and good people in this life. I am very blessed to know some incredibly awesome people and to have the love of friends and family. Yet, those are tiny fragments of this life as a whole. Our world is in a pretty sad state.

Those tiny fragments are also part of a HUGE future picture. There is an awesome place of wonder waiting for me…my true home. I cannot even begin to imagine what it will look like. There are those who have seen it…and come back. They are unable to adequately describe what they saw. THAT is my true home. That is where I long to be…with my Lord and Saviour forever. There are times when my heart aches to go home.

This morning I heard someone talking about heaven and the gate to get in…and the Gatekeeper. I know who that Gatekeeper is…and oh, how I long to hear Him say “Well done, good and faithful servant. Come on in and be with Me!”

When I heard what the Gatekeeper told this person whose time had not yet come, I thought of my sister. I do not really understand why, but for some reason, the words Yeshua spoke to this woman gave me comfort for my sister. They gave me a greater hope that she is indeed in heaven waiting for me. Yet, I cannot say why. I only know that my heart was touched deeply and tears came. They were happy tears for her because I believe she is with Him; and no one from here can ever touch her or hurt her again. She is safe. She is loved…as she always deserved to be.

I have trials and difficulties in this life. A lot of it is just the stuff of life that everyone goes through. On top of that, I have the difficulties of having gone through so much trauma and abuse. It has changed me in ways that are beyond my comprehension and in ways that I can do nothing about.

Yet, my Abba knows all about it. He helps me to work with what I have been given in this life. He brings healing in some ways and the ability to cope in others. He helps me to live this life. I simply do not know how some people are able to live this life without Him. I know that I could not. It simply a fact for me. He comforts me. He strengthens me. He gives me hope when there is no hope in anything I can see around me. He IS my hope…my joy…my peace.

Feeling down does not mean a lack of peace. It just means that I am living in the reality of this fallen world. But deep inside I have the peace of already knowing what the ultimate outcome of that will be. Of course, that is a mixed blessing. I know the joy and good that awaits me. But there is also sadness over what some will choose to go to because they simply refuse to accept Yahweh and His Son. They reject Him…and that makes me sad.