From Mother of abused to wife of abuser - in one quick newspaper article

It is a new role this time around. It did hit the papers. Two out of the three in our area. I have not looked in the third paper actually and have not asked anyone. I just don't want to know any more.

When it happened the first time three years ago - I filled a simple role. Mother of the abused. It was a role people could get behind and support. The issues were clear - I was not there - I could not have known. I was as shocked as they were.

It is all different this time around. I had my first person run away from me in the store. I was not angry at her. She is the mother of a friend of my daughter. Her daughter has come to stay at our house more than once. I know she is scared for her daughter. Upset for mine. Wondering how a man she knew could ever do this.

I am familiar with all of those thoughts. But here is where the path veers off. You see if it is true - that I really did not know anything. That I met, and fell in love with, and had children with a man who was capable of doing this to my daughter - and I really had no clue. Then it could happen to her. And of course the pain and horror of looking at being afraid of something like that is unimaginable. So in order to put her world back into some kind of safety zone in which to live, it is easier for her to think that I knew - and chose not to do anything about it. Which of course makes me someone to run away from.

Church was different this Sunday. On the one hand, there was a freedom from not having to measure every word and lie. But there was also no really pressing in to the Lord for me. You see I had already steeled myself. Wondering what people would think. I walked in looking back at everyone looking at me. Did they know? Had they read the article or articles? If so which one - one was more descriptive than the other. What were they thinking of me?

So the freedom came with a price. Does all freedom come with a price? I hope I can go back next Sunday, close my eyes, and be vulnerable again to my God. I hate walling off my heart.

K

Will it Break in the Papers this week?

Tomorrow is the arraignment.

There is a part of me in this moment that is not even sure there is anything more to write tonight than that one sentence. The weight of it hangs over me right now. I threw up my dinner tonight.

I called the District Attorney's office this morning to find out if it was at this court hearing or at the final sentencing that the press gets all of the gory details. It is at this arraignment. Tomorrow. I decided that being prepared was better, so I had them make a copy of it and I went down and picked it up.

When I got in my car I read the first sentence, my stomach lurched, and I quickly put the papers back down. The first sentence was that my daughter (her initials only - that is their big way of protecting her anonymity. Oops forgot - her age follows her initials just in case I have more than one daughter) came to me, her mother - oh yeah - my full name, and address were in there and told me that her step-father - yep his full name and address had sexually assaulted her.

It took me many hours before I could pick it back up and read through the rest of the 4 pages of details of everyone's interviews. Hence my dinner coming back up.

I want to cry right now - but honestly there just are no more tears left today. I want to weep for my daughter. I don't think I've shared here that she had another extended family member molest her 3 years ago. It all hit the papers then too. Three years later and people will still bump into me in the store and say 'OMG - I haven't seen you since I read in the paper what happened to your daughter - how are you all?' The problem with the names of the adults being published in the paper of a small town is that it is really a no brainer to know who the child involved is.

Like anyone in our area who knows us will not now know exactly what has been done to my daughter.

She was younger when it happened the first time - I never told her it was in the papers. I wonder now if I will be able to hide it from her. I would love to pray for some big scandalous thing here in our area which will make this seem so small it will never be written about. But that would only be wishing pain on another family and I cannot do that.

'All things work to the good for those that love the Lord'

I used to play this silly little game with her about this verse when she was little and something bad had happened.

Me: Was that all things or some things?

My Daughter: all (she would say grudgingly with a very small voice)

Me: What - I didn't hear you? Did you say all things? Wait maybe God only met the Good things.

My Daughter: No

Me: Maybe God only meant the tiny little baby things

My Daughter: No (not as grudgingly - a little louder)

Me: Maybe God only meant the tiny things and the medium size things - but definitely not the big things.

My Daughter: NO

Me: Wait are you really saying all things!?!?!? Really!?!?!? You mean the good things, the bad things, the ugly things, the tiny weenie things, the HUGE things, the medium things, the sad things, the happy things?!?!?

By this point I would be tickling her until she was laughing and yelling yes Mom all of the things. All of them! ALL OF THEM! LOL!

Life is simpler when the really bad things you are talking about are being picked on at school or falling down and scraping a knee.

So here I sit tonight trying to play this game with myself. Yes it is all things. Not just the good things. 'All' includes the dirty, rotten, low down, scummy, cruel, mean, hurtful things that happen in this life too. God Can work them all to the good for those that love Him.

God...


I love you...


and so do my children.

K

First Holiday Alone

My emotions today have run the gamut. I screamed at the top of my lungs, I even swore the F word. I sobbed in the deepest of heart ache, was as angry as angry could be and I genuinely laughed out loud. I felt vulnerable and fearful and shared those thoughts with others, and experienced love. I felt the pain of my immediate family being blown to bits, and yet experienced the wonderful security of being a part of a larger family. I am completely spent at the end of my day, but I can sit here and say I completely experienced every piece and part of my day and will go to bed tonight and sleep peacefully.

I was a little caught unaware this morning about how emotional my first holiday alone was for me.

First there was trying to get myself and two children ready to leave the house and attend church on time. OK – even when you have 2 adults trying to help get everyone out of the house on time for church it is hard. I just need to admit that it is practically impossible as a single parent.

I desperately wanted to go to church this morning. I so needed to stand in the midst of a group of people and worship the Lord. Most Sundays since this has happened I go to church, I start to worship, and I stand there in the back row, hands raised, singing my heart out, with tears streaming down my face. I close my eyes, grateful that for the most part I know the words to the songs, for I do not want to look around and see anyone’s reaction. Most there have no idea what I am going through in my life, and I need this time with God and so I don’t want to open my eyes and censor myself based on the look of their faces.

Did you notice that I said ‘in the last row’? Well when we did finally make it today we were a half hour late. On Easter Sunday. Yeah - no last row today. And, the crying had already being going on for an hour before I even could get to the church. Which means that people in the foyer stopped me to hug me on my way into the sanctuary leaving my darling 5 year olds to choose the seats. The front half of our church the rows face each other. The last half of our church the rows face the front. We were smack dab in the center so everyone could see. I didn’t care. I was not there for one other person accept for me and my Lord. So, I walked in with my head held high, tears streaming down my face, found my seat, closed my eyes, raised my hands and sang to my Lord and poured it all out to him in every way I could.

Something happens in those moments. It is an incredible healing time for me. There is something about standing there in complete pain – and my pain being exposed to everyone around me who can see the tears streaming down my face. And yet there I am raising my hands, and singing about what an awesome God I have. It is a mingling of pain and faith, heartache and love, destruction and hope, woundedness and healing. It is such a public display, and yet such an intimate moment between me and my God. I’m not sure that any of the words I just wrote even begin to describe it.

One song. It was all I was able to make being so late. And yet it was all that I needed. It was that one song that I had desperately fought all morning to get to. And God did all that I needed in that one song. And that is the miraculousness of God. I knew I could only stay for a short part of the sermon and it didn’t matter. The unbelievable peace that God gave me in that one song was everything I needed to go forward with my day. And that is exactly what I did.

Be blessed on this day that Jesus rose again for me. Well and for you too. But I am so thankful He did it for me.

K

Wake up to a sunny day, not a cloud up in the sky, then it starts to rain

I play worship music in my house continually. I want the atmosphere of my house to be one of praising the Lord. I play it from my computer - I want my computer to always be praising the Lord!

I come down to find one of my favorite songs playing:

It’s the song of the redeemed
Rising from the African plain
It’s the song of the forgiven
Drowning out the Amazon rain

I cannot help myself - I begin to sing and dance and worship the Lord. One of my favorite things in the world is to worship the Lord with all abandon. I need to tell you this only happens for me in privacy! LOL! It has a beautiful African beat to it. I begin to dance allowing my body to move freely to the beat, raising my hands to the Lord.

And all the powers of darkness
Tremble at what they’ve just heard
‘Cause all the powers of darkness
Can’t drown out a single word

Powerful words. I wonder will I ever be a part of moment in time like this. Not just in my church, but I always think globally when I worship to this song. Imagine a moment in time when ALL of Gods children would sing out together in unison around the world. It would be so powerful that in that moment ALL of the powers of darkness would be mute.

When all God’s children sing out
Glory, glory, hallelujah
He reigns, He reigns
All God’s people singing
Glory, glory, hallelujah
He reigns, He reigns

I continue to dance around the room my spirit rising to meet the Lord with every beat, every word, every chord, joining with every other person in the world who in this very moment would join me in worshiping Him as there is no distance in the spirit realm.

I smile, thinking if anyone would walk in and see me dancing around my office in abandon, cranking the tunes, singing loudly - they would think I was a little off my rocker.

It reminds me of an incident a few years ago when in a similar moment of just wanting to dance and worship before the Lord I went to our church on a Saturday afternoon. They play worship music at the church all the time too. I went in, turned up the volume, and started to dance and sing around the sanctuary in complete abandon. In that complete abandon I leapt before the lord as dancers do. It was not a huge leap.

Have you ever seen an athlete on TV - either running, or jumping, when they fell to the ground, grabbing on to their leg. It was just like that. I landed on one leg, heard this pop, and fell to the ground pulling my leg up to my chest hugging it, crying, the pain was instant and huge. As I was falling, all I could picture was the times when I had seen this happen to athletes on TV. It was a surreal moment. I lay there praying for the pain to go away. Eventually trying to stand and 'walk it off' only to realize there was no walking! LOL! (OK - I can laugh at it now - it was years ago!) For 2 more hours I tried to 'walk it off' before going to the emergency room to find that I had ripped the tendon in my leg!

In remembering this and laughing at myself I remember how many times over the years my husband and my daughter have teased me about this. Laughingly warning me to be careful in my dancing before the Lord. Teasing me mercilessly, wonderfully giggling, reminding me that I am in my 40s - not my 20s. (Meaning that I am VERY old!)

Then it starts to rain - my tears.

I wonder if there will ever be a moment in time when they will be able to laugh at me "together" again. What I would give to relive a moment like this with our family intact, happy, healthy. Is healing to this kind of point ever possible? Is bringing our family back together what God wants?

For that is all I want in my life now - what God wants for me and my family. Not one thing more - not one thing less. It is the only way I know of surviving this incredible silent bomb that has gone off in my family blowing everything to bits.

Everyday I am amazed at how a sunny day can turn to the rain of my tears. It is not a bad thing - it is cleansing to be able to cry in those moments, feel the pain, give it to the Lord, and then move on. For that is what I must do.

It is these moments that I find beauty in the breaking. I am amazed myself at the strength the Lord is giving me - for I can say with all truth that it is not my own strength that I am using to walk through each day.

My twins are calling - so full of life, so full of love - they are my greatest healers.

K

ps - thought I would share a photo. It is in a beautiful collection that a photographer calls Freedom - someday I will have the freedom to jump for the Lord like this! (And not break any bones, muscles, or tendons in the process! LOL!)

The Beginning of a Journey

I am starting this blog for a couple of reasons.

First because I think it will be therapeutic for me.

I have always found writing to be healing for me. Writing allows you to get out exactly what you want to say. Journaling like this allows the time and quiet to give voice to your thoughts without any interference of any sort. When you speak to someone else, you are looking at their face, reading their body language, looking for cues as to how they are reacting to your words, which in turn modifies what you say.

There is none of that instant modification when you journal.

I get to set here after my kids are fast asleep, listening to my worship music, speaking to thousands, and to no one. Just cathartically giving voice to my inner thoughts.

My life seems like a lie right now. I keep quiet as to why my husband and I are separated for many different and varied reasons. It is easier for me to hide in my home than to venture outside and measure each word when I see someone I know. Trying to talk about my life while not giving any clue as to the real reasons for our separation is difficult and tiresome.

Growing up as a child in an alcoholic home, every time we left our home we put on the 'out of the house' persona. That person was very different than the person who lived at home. What we represented as a family to the world had very little to do with who we were as a family behind closed doors.

Beyond lying to the world, I even lied at home. I was being sexually abused myself as a child by two of my parent's friends. All of this lying to everyone about everything took its toll. I turned to drugs and alcohol as a way to escape.

I became a member of AA at 23 years old. It is clear to me that one of the most healing things about AA is that you tell everyone all about you - the good, the bad, the ugly. Of course if you are in AA at 23 there is not much good - just lots of bad and ugly. LOL. But a wonderful thing happens in those rooms. They listen to you tell all about all of the things you have spent a life time hiding from everyone, and they say 'welcome, we love you, keep coming back'. It was truly the first time in my life finding acceptance. The experience of sharing all the hidden gross parts of me and seeing that people could still love me was wonderfully healing.

So, knowing that for me, hiding things is dangerous, this is my way of shouting to the world (in a very anonymous way) the truth of what I am experiencing, my feelings about what I am going through, the pain, the struggle, and the incredible strength that I am finding in the Lord.

"A bruised reed he will not break, and a dimly buring wick he will not quench" I saiah 42:3

One of the scriptures that I quote to myself many times a day. I will leave it here for now.

K