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Sorry for the length you guys. I have had a lot bottled up inside me:
It always amazes me that when I do not disengage and numb out (which is my engrained habit); that God just does amazing things. It should not amaze me so much because He has done it so often in my life, but it still does. Tonight’s service was so amazing to me. I often think of our stories with God as a paint by number picture (similar to the common idea of it being a tapestry – but I loved paint by numbers when I was a kid and it hung with me). At first it just looks like a hopeless jumbled mess, but then as you do it slowly things come to life, and occasionally once you finish that next color a whole section of the picture that you did not realize was there just pops out at you. The service tonight was one of those moments; Papa Rod preaching on Hebrews 4 and fear and anxiety and God’s offer of whole rest that is not vegging or numbing out, but pure rest from our exhausted lives here on earth. Eric talking about blogging on this site again like we all (me included) used to so much. And then God washing His love over me with my favorite two songs: Amazing Grace and Everywhere (favorite because of Psalm 23 which it is almost word for word on). I wept and laughed within moments of each other. Weeping for just how much God has really loved and pursued me even when I have shaken my fist at Him in anger, and laughing because “He did it again,” and I had doubted again that He did not care.
I used to blog a lot of my story on this website and here goes to trying to start that again:
I often forget my story and at the same time think everyone knows it because I have been so open with it; yet as our dear Pastor Rod reminds me sometimes, I only share it to people I feel safe with – often times that is complete strangers rather than anyone I actually see on a daily bases. He also reminds me that I always melt down and freak out in fear when God starts asking me to share it more. I have learned that God is really, really patient with me and longsuffering. I also realized as I was sitting in Bible Study on Friday night and I only shared a very small piece of my story; someone explained, “What? Where you brain washed as a kid?” And God hit me again with the fact of two things; my story does matter because it is His miraculous work and I hide it (even to myself) more than I actually share it. So here is a new twist to my story, the story of sharing my story.
I was brain washed as a kid; that is really hard for me to actually say because I do not want it to be true. I was brain washed to not believe that I was completely crazy because of course the stuff that was happening in my environment “was not really happening.” I was told that I was stupid and that “No one would love me,” except these people who were supposed to care for me, but really were destroying me. As I child in a severely abuse home, you learn to survive by any means possible. My sister took the route of rebellion. I took the route of being a overly submissive, people pleasing slave (oh that is hard to write). I lived in constant fear that something might shift and I would not know what to do that would please them and I would be killed (I do not use that word lightly). I would occasionally be brave enough to step out of the mold and be beaten down either physically, emotionally, or sexually. I learned the best way to go was to lay low, keep people happy, and be as invisible as I can possibly be. I completely lived covered in this darkness for years even after I learned about Jesus I lived in it.
But something shifted 8 and a half years ago and I decided after several blatant kicks in the butt from God to go, I came to the Village. About a year later, God miraculously just stripped me of my grave clothes, exposed all the hidden secrets of my life, and freed me from the satanic bondage that I had lived with my entire life. He also brought me into this wonderful house and family in which I live. I started sharing my story; I was hedged into to heal and grow. Then, very quickly, I completely disconnected to posting much of anything about my story because I was threatened by my biological father through my spiritual father. I wrote my story in multiple journals and shared it with people I trusted; I continued to heal and grow. He brought me into more and more freedom, but still had me hedged in. Showing my how I was His bride and He was my Father and Husband, not the Devil that I was told were those things. He gave me so much freedom and I felt alive and I was doing good things for myself and using my gifts from Him to dream with Him about what I wanted. And then magically about five years ago, this apparent God fearing wonderful man started to pursue me. It was amazing, scary and wonderful all at the same time. I started sharing myself more and stepping into freedom and believing my own mind and worth. Within two months, he relapsed into drugs; instead of letting it go and grieving the pain, I took control and tried to save him from himself and please him and make him happy and then maybe I would still be OK. I went into massive hiding and it felt like all the life and freedom that God had given me in those three years had been wiped literally away. I finally branched out with lots of kicks in the butt from my community and cut off relationship with him, like I had done my biological parents three years earlier. I was dead inside, but God hedged me in with the house, community, and financial burden of the consequences of supporting myself and him in two different households for a little more than 6 months. So I grew, healed, was nurtured by family and got to love on children. God again stepped in and reminded me that He was my Husband, and I was His no one else’s. A few years back, I slowly returned to writing thought about publishing my story and became more verbal on the internet about God, truth, and my story with Him; then one night, I friend suggestion popped up on facebook. It was my biological parents. I stared at the picture of them and thought, “They look so old and lifeless.” It was even a little hard to recognize them, but the next instinct was fear. After earlier that year sharing a bit of my story and getting grief in my work situation and now my biological parents possible return, I shut down. I stopped all writing and I stopped nearly all posting of any kind. It spilled out uncontrollably at times because writing is just my thing with God and I to process things. There is a reason why I am currently working on my 89th journal and I certainly need to do what works.
In 2011, God started pushing me to write again. Prompting people to say that they would edit my story if I wanted to publish it and talking to me about be John the Baptist and just announcing the truth, announcing the story and leaving everything else (including people’s reactions) to Him. He started prompting me to live in the truth that I am a single, celibate woman heading into the second half of my 30’s and I was married to Him. I have been struggling with my singleness and being forsaken by my mother and father but care for by my King ever since. But this month it started coming to a head until it exploded this weekend. I learned this month that this week I large financial burden would be lifted from me this week and I would suddenly have a lot more financial freedom again. The realization that God is really asking me to shift out of the safety of the Seneca House came to a head in all of our time together. The loneliness of being single and the urge to have physical and sexual needs meet and sitting in the fact that God is the only one who can meet any of that for me right now and the realization that the children who have grown up with me will at sometime in the near future not be around me every day. I also realized this month that Arizona is a probate state and my next of kin if I became medically unable to make decisions for myself or if I died, would be my biological parents. With that realization, I started thinking about a will and make plans in that direction and came to the next realization that it is very difficult to ask even people who are related to you by blood or marriage to ask to take care of your wishes. The crazy thing is I am having to ask people who are not related to me not only to take care of my wishes, but to also fight the evil of my family again. And I can tell you I was not the only one who was relieved when that connection was broken. Again, I am alone and have to trust that God is my Husband and Father; and He has it all taken care of. I started writing again and stepping out and expressing myself and story and wrestling with my life and then all hell broke loose at my job. It was the straw that broke me. I survived my crazy week with tears and crying and started posting even though I felt on the edge of losing everything familiar in my life. It came to a head last night. I had wrestled with God and myself all day. I had tried to invite others into in hopes that they would understand or could fix it somehow, but I was left with the emptiness, confusion and pain all by myself with God. I was so angry because I realized that I did not want to and it would not be fixed even if I went back to one of my old behaviors. I went through the list: it would not help to please people and get my value from that; I did not want to smoke, did not want to drink, did not want to go clubbing to get false intimacy, did not want to turn to pornography, hurting myself, eating something bad for me or numbing out to TV because no of that would fill the void I felt. And I was downright furious and angry and exhausted, but I stayed present. And God just poured His love out on me: I went in my PJs to Ryan and Andrea’s house and they loved on me. I wrote and sleep in God’s arms. I got up and cleaned and reached out for help and God graced me with the Hildebrandts surprising me and helping me finish cleaning and they prayed over me. I was treated to lunch by a dear friend. I made my food to take care of myself for the week, had a moment with a long friend who I have not been able to talk to in a while, and was washed in a hot bath reminded of the vision that I painted of Jesus’ watching and healing me with His tears. He told me: I have had you taste romantic love, familial love, romantic heartache, familial heartache; I have pulled you out of hell for you to be used by me. And know I am having you experience the closest thing you will ever taste to divorce, so I can use you more. I was so tired so drained; I really did not want to come to church tonight. I wanted to sleep, but I w
ent and He showered me with my children, showed me that I was Auntie Cheryl to so many and blessed me with everything and everyone there.
He graciously said these words to me after the sermon: “You cannot be a people pleaser and submit your life to me. If you follow My path for you even if you submitted it to your community, someone will not agree or will be disappointed with your choices that I ask You to make, but I will rejoice. It will be painful, lonely, scary, and going against everything the world tells you; no one will quiet understand you; no one will quiet be able to comfort you. No one was able to comfort John the Baptist or My Son when they lived either. You will live in the unknown, waiting, yet moving forward. But I will always be with You, and I know You completely, I understand You in and out, I experienced all you have experienced, and I love you more than anyone has or will ever. I am your Husband. I am your Father. I am your friend. I am your Lord and King.” |
