She was my first twelve-step-program sponsor. She, too, was a survivor. One of the first questions she asked me was, "How do you treat yourself?"

Was she crazy? I wanted to talk about how OTHER people treated me. What does how I treat myself have to do with healing? Her next question answered my question before I could ask it out loud:

"If the broken parts of you transformed into a little girl, how would say you treat her? Describe this in a journal and then read it to me next week."

As I wrote, it became apparent that I did not take good care of myself. I denied myself water when I was thirsty. I put off bathroom breaks, food, and rest, until I had completed the task at hand. During leisure time, I watched television shows about abuse that merely exploited survivors and perpetuated the fear that the damage of abuse cannot be redeemed. (And yes, I include Oprah in this category. Another blog for another time.)

Without realizing it, I'd taken on the role of passive abuser--by way of neglect, long after the active-abuse had ended. I wouldn't think of neglecting a child, and yet I denied myself many basic human needs. I determined to take baby steps toward gaining strength and dignity. Here there are, Dignity 101:

1. Nourish your body. Do not skip meals. Schedule a time to eat something healthy.
2. Drink water regularly. Keep a bottle of water on hand. (The rule of thumb for water is: one half of your body weight in ounces per day).
3. Gotta go? GO.
4. Honor bedtime. Allow yourself 6-8 hours of sleep. What doesn't get done today, can be completed tomorrow.

Simple, but not easy. Try it. And be ready to journal the vast array of emotions that will arise. Physically caring for yourself will have a tremendous impact on your emotional and spiritual well-being. Repeat after me: I'm worth it.

I encourage you to take a quick inventory of how you treat yourself each day. And then ask yourself: If I were caring for a little girl, would that child flourish under my under supervision? Do I meet her needs or do I neglect her? If you don't like your answers, simply ask God for the strength and grace to take better care of yourself. And then, put a practical plan on paper.

Next Tuesday, we'll talk about what to look for in a good counselor. May the Lord direct your steps today and everyday. And remember, every step you take in a healthy direction, is a step toward more freedom than you can imagine. It's yours, so get moving.

"All men should strive to learn before they die, what they are running from, and to, and why." --James Thurber

If you've spent your life running from a painful past, this is probably the last thing you want brought to your attention, but I agree with Mr. Thurber. In retrospect, it's clear that the more energy I spent avoiding my past, the more bound to it I became.

Go ahead, look back. God is with you and He won't leave you there forever. You'll be there just long enough to discover how truly beloved you are in His eyes. When you awaken to this truth, you will no longer be powerless. You are safe with the God who makes all things new.

The more I read the Bible, the more I recognize God's heart toward women. He cherishes us and wants to empower us to make a difference in the world. It saddens me to think of all the times I projected onto a loving God, the motives of what broken men did to harm me.

Healing from sexual abuse is a process that cannot be manipulated my man. Maintain steady communication with God. Keep your eyes on Him and you will come to know and believe the Savior. Stop running. Come face to face with from, and to, and why. If it helps you to know, initially I did not look back with a graceful countenance. I kicked, I screamed, I swore, I abused alcohol .  . all the things the church of my youth warned me against--but Jesus didn't take offense. He didn't condemn me. He saw my broken heart. He understood why I behaved that way, and His love made me better.

And one day I looked in the mirror and no longer saw a victim. I saw the reflection of a woman who'd been to hell and back, with no outward signs of hell. I saw strength and redemption. I saw a woman with a testimony so powerful that it could encourage other women to face their pasts. Through Christ, I am empowered. Through Christ, you are empowered.

When we refuse to face our pasts, we refuse to walk through the very door that will bring us through and compel us to live forward.

What do you run from? Will you face it to move forward and finally be free?

Yesterday, life presented me with unforeseen challenges. I mentioned I had an early dental appointment. What I didn't mention was that going to the dentist is my least favorite thing to do. Which is my grown-up way of saying, "I hate going to the dentist."

I need to leave in five minutes or I'll be late. It's cold and rainy. Never mind that just a few days ago it was 85 degrees outside. I thought Texas got the "it's spring" memo. I look out the window and see that my precious husband forgot to return my fabric-covered Old Hickory bench to our covered patio. (He had previously propped it up against the side of our house to climb on the roof after locking himself out. The upstairs media room window was unlocked.)

Gentle readers, before I tell you about my dental experience, I must first confess that I totally blew my "Christian witness" by losing my temper before I left the house. (Thank God my husband is a Christian.) I am in possession of a gently used $1,200.00 Old Hickory bench, purchased for the bargain price of $20.00. (A hotel was renovating and going for a different look.) So, I got a considerable "bargain high" from the purchase of that bench. I look out the window and there it is--soaking wet in the rain and in the mud. I'm Cherokee Indian, my home is best described as: Pocahontas shops Anthropologie and Pottery Barn, then builds lodge in Colorado. (If I ever figure out how to upload a picture of this, I will.)

Back to my story: My nerves are shot over my pending date with the dentist . . . a very handsome dentist, I might add. (Don't read more into this than just the fact that he is extremely attractive. I'm a happily married woman to a man whom I consider to be my better half.) HOWEVER, I think there should be a law against a handsome man shining a bright light onto your face and up your nose, revealing every facial defect a 40+ woman can have. I actually shined a flash light up my nose that morning, just to make sure there were no "bears in the cave." (My husband finds me hilarious.)

No really, back to my story:

I'm relaxed. Really. Though I've just presented a colorful expression to my better half about how agitated and disappointed I am that he left my Old Hickory bench in the rain and mud. (Which is my grown-up way of confessing that I later asked God to forgive me for my unsavory word choices.) Yes, people, I used swear words. A woman in ministry--who loves Jesus with all her heart . . . lost her temper and swore.

In spite of the morning's rough start, I arriv on time. By then, I feel relaxed. I'm in the chair; bright light on face, tooth is numb . . . all is well. Drilling begins and I feel it. I motion with my hand and he stops.

"Is everything okay, Wendy?"

"I feel it. Pain."

He pokes and prods a little more and concludes that my tooth is not completely asleep. The solution: another injection of Novocaine--resume drilling.

Houston, we have a problem. Part of my throat is numb. I can't feel air going down my throat and I can't feel myself swallow. Which communicates to my body that I am being smothered.

He stops and lets me sit up for a minute. "Do you battle anxiety attacks?"

"No. I just feel cold. My teeth are starting to chatter."

"Would you like a blanket?"

"Yes, please."

Then it hits. My entire body is shaking. I don't feel nervous. My chest isn't pounding. It doesn't feel like an anxiety attack. It feels like a rush of adrenaline throughout my body.
This is crazy. I pray and I pray and I pray. It lasts about fifteen minutes and then I feel peaceful.

My dentist and his assistant are wonderful. They're kind and very patient. He resumes the work that needs to be done and I feel relaxed the remainder of the time.

I get home and take a warm bath. As I dry off, I'm overwhelmed with emotion. I cry. I think about what happened; wonder why it happened. And then for the first time in my life, I remember: I didn't always dissociate in order to comply with the sexual abuse I endured as a child. As I got older, I resisted. When my throat became numb due to the Novocaine, my body remembered feeling smothered.

Poor little body. Poor young girl. Once I make the connection, I pamper myself. I climb into bed. I read. I nap. I pray. When my husband comes home, I tell him what happened. I simply ask him to hold me, and he does. No long conversations. Just me in comfy pajamas, in my husband's arms, with my two dogs spooned up beside us. I sleep.

Today is my youngest son's 12th birthday! We're going out to dinner when I get off of work as a clinical massage therapist. Today I will work on two survivors of breast cancer; in pain from the medication they must take. It's an honor. It's an honor to receive help when I need it, and it's an honor to give to others in need.

What happened to me yesterday, hurt. But it didn't steal my identify in Christ and it didn't minimize or negate the healing I have previously received. I know who I am. I don't handle everything perfectly. But I keep the lines of communication open to God. And honestly, it's been years since I've had to face a memory like yesterday's. But if what I experienced, painful as it was, expands my freedom and makes me more effective in helping you, then I thank God for the trials I face. Bless you. You are not alone.

Sorrows is better than laughter, For by a sad countenance the heart is made better. (Ecclesiastes 7:3)

 Today, there is much to celebrate!

"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand" (Isaiah 41:10 NKJV).

Yesterday morning (Valentines Day) I woke up thinking about how far I've come by the Lord's righteous right hand. In the beginning, I was so broken that I imagined the abused girl in me simply sitting in Jesus' lap. The first three years of healing were rough. I didn't understand why it was such a slow process.

Today, I understand. Are you familiar with the phrase: "My whole life flashed before my eyes." Well, Valentines morning went something like that, only it was my healing process that flashed before my eyes: Initially, I saw an abused girl; safe in my Savior's lap. Next, I saw myself as a toddler, hanging on to His leg as He walked. Eventually, I stood on my own two feet, but remained hidden behind my Heavenly Father; every so often I peered from behind him. Over time I learned to walk and finally run, but not without stumbling; not without His comfort and care.

At last, I'm a grown woman, walking down the isle. My heavenly Father walks arm and arm with me. I'm a beautiful bride, dressed in the wedding gown I've only ever imagined wearing. He's proud of me. His honor feels like sunshine on my face. And in that moment, in my spirit I heard Him say, "And when you are old and silver, ever so much more than twenty, you will still be my little girl."

It takes time to grow in Christ. He didn't reveal images of all the tears, all the fits I threw; the times I initially reached for a drink instead of Him. From the beginning, He saw a broken-down baby from a broken-down home, who needed Love to grow to be a woman free from her past. 

At 8:30 yesterday morning, before I had gotten out of bed, I declared it to be the best Valentine's Day ever! My wonderful husband, Michael, is the icing on my cake!

I encourage you to reach for the Savior. No one loves you like He loves you. You are precious and honored in His sight and He loves you. (Isaiah 43:4).

My husband and I have learned that when God beckons you to visit the past with Him, it's intended for your good. Yes, re-visitng a painful time in your life is painful, but He is a steady comfort through the tears. Eventually you remember what brought you joy as a child. For my husband, that is: snow, motorcycles, camping, fishing, hiking, DOGS, and more snow. (He's from Wyoming.) For me: all things "art", jogging, dancing, camping, cooking, eating good food with friends, reading, hiking, and DOGS.

I can't believe how many years of my adult life went by before I allowed God to restore my joy. I didn't realize that by refusing to give Him my pain, I was refusing my own repair! Don't be deceived. If God is prompting you to face your past, do it. Do it scared, but do it. You will glean joy from the most unlikely fields of painful memories. And you will be restored!

As I watched my husband ride a boogie-board down a hill with our Yellow Lab sitting between his legs, I thought to myself: "Kid fun"doesn't get much better than this!

Question: Can you think of something that brought you joy as a child? If you can't, ask God for revelation. From there, be good to yourself when you're facing the past. Make sure you do things that bring joy as well. You can trust God with your pain.

"The waters surrounded me, even to my soul; the deep closed around me; weeds were wrapped around my head. I went down to the moorings of the mountains; the earth with its bars closed behind me forever; yet You have brought up my life from the pit, O Lord, my God (Jonah 2:5-6).

"When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord; and my prayer went up to You, into Your holy temple. Those who regard worthless idols forsake their own Mercy. But I will sacrifice to You with the voice of thanksgiving; I will pay what I have vowed. Salvation is of the Lord" (Jonah 2:7-8 NKJV).

I wrote this poem several years ago after realizing I was going to make it after all. In Christ, we can overcome  the most destitute of circumstances.

Shiny people rise above

Walking through darkness

Yet cloaked in love,

Calling to Jesus as the senses fray,

Nothing but darkness, knee-deep in the day.

Step forward, step backward.

Sow tiny seeds.

Trust His great Spirit

to meet the great need.

And suddenly like gardens

The smallest of sprouts,

Love opens the ground

And a way is made out.

For the greatest adventure in all of our time

Is the journey to freedom

It's yours and it's mine.

Follow me to The Daily Dose

Dear Jane(s),

You are not cursed to shame. I'm proud of you for participating in therapy, and I'm proud of you for realizing that you must allow God to be the center of that process in order to heal. You can spill your guts all day in front of man, but if you ignore God in the process, you will hinder healing. I know how you feel. I've been right where you are. And I promise, you are healing. 

When you're overwhelmed by feelings of shame or memories of abuse, pause and verbally invite Christ into those feelings. That may sound a little crazy, but trust me, this is how He heals the memories. "Now the Lord is the Spirit; and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom." (2 Corinthians 3:17 NKJV)

When children incur an injury they want parents to make it better without touching the wound. Have you ever cleaned grass and dirt out of a skinned knee? It's a painful, but necessary cleansing process.

I'm convinced that when feelings or memories come up, it's an opportunity to allow Christ to cleanse us and make us better. To this day, if I'm overwhelmed with a painful emotion, I confess what I feel and say, "Jesus, come into the center of [fill in the blank]. It could be shame, anger, fear, grief, anything.

I encourage you to put this to practice. We don't have to be afraid to spill our guts before the Lord. He holds our hearts when we cry and our hair back when we vomit. 

When my oldest son was two and a half his kidneys failed and he nearly died. During his hospital stay nurses collected blood samples via finger-sticks evey six hours. Before long his little fingers were so bruised that they switched to his precious toes.

My heart splintered each time they entered the room. I knew it hurt him, and that hurt me. I held him each time they drew blood and cried with him as he begged, "Mommy, make them go away!"

He was a toddler, incapable of understanding how his mother could allow something so horrible. But you see, I had knowledge he didn't have. And while I HATED what he went through, I understood why I had to allow it. Apart from medical necessity, allowing grown ups to puncture a child's fingers and toes is abusive and cruel. My little one could only perceive that I refused to protect him. Long after his kidneys healed, he was still healing from his perception of that hospital stay.

Stay with me.

Matthew 18: 6-7 refers to what I believe to be child abuse:

"But whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to sin, it would be greater for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were drowned in the depth of the sea."

Woe to the world because of offenses! For offenses must come.

We live in a fallen world and therefore, "these things" must come. God did not intend for His children to suffer abuse. He created Adam and Eve in a perfect environment. The fall of man opened the door to horrendous abuse. And when that happens. The Creator of the universe, who only wanted perfection for us, cries with us and for us.

The good news is that He sent His Son to ensure we could heal if we wanted. And his Holy Spirit to hold, comfort, and counsel us throughout the healing process. 

You are NOT too damaged to heal. Go to the One who wept with you and for you when you were abused and betrayed. Nothing can separate you from His love. Not even your anger. Imagine the fits my toddler threw. I understood why he was so angry and confused, he's my child.

Today he is a man, twenty-three years old. He still uncomfortable having his blood drawn, but I will never forget the day he told me that he was going to step into the pain, and donate blood. Wow.

You are overcoming. One day at at time. Some day you will donate a bit of your own blood, sweat, and tears and perhaps save a life too. Ahhh, the greater good prevails in a world where "these things" must come.

Psalm 129:2 "Many a time they have afflicted me from my youth; but they have not prevailed against me."

How do you feel about the story? Can you relate? Did you gain a new perspective on painful experiences? I would love to hear from you!

Over twenty years had past since I read the Bible. At age fourteen, on the heels of multiple years of sexual abuse, I left my church more wounded than I was when I first arrived. I was done being a Christian.

Twenty-three years later, a few hours prior to my first session of group therapy for my horrible past, I noticed a Bible sitting on the table next to me. I stared at it for several minutes before succumbing to the power of its own silent gaze and picked it up. I surveyed the leather cover and ran my fingers over the thin, fragile pages and allowed them to fall open to the book of Isaiah.

"The sun will no longer be your light by day,
Nor for brightness shall the moon
give light to you;
But the Lord will be to you an
everlasting light,
And your God your glory.

Your sun shall no longer go down,
Nor shall your moon withdraw itself;
For the Lord will be your everlasting light,
And the days of your mourning shall be ended.

Also, your people shall all be righteous;
They shall inherit the land forever,
The branch of My planting,
The work of My hands,
That I may be glorified.

A little one shall become a thousand,
And a small one a strong nation.

I, the Lord, will hasten it in its time."

Isaiah 60: 19-22

I held on to that Scripture as if my life depended on it. And truthfully, there were days when it did. Healing took time. More time than I wanted it to, but my days of sorrow did come to an end. Yours will too. 

I pray for you. I don't know your names, but God does. Do you have a Scripture to hold on to come hell or high water? If not, this one is ideal for women seeking freedom.

It's July and I'm "spring" cleaning. I came across the "2003 personal care card" I made in group therapy for survivors of sexual abuse. Here's what it included:

Overall Statement:

Believe more deeply
Hold your face up to the light
Even though for the moment you do not see it

Affirmation:

• I will rest in the unseen arms of my higher power (Today I would say Savior. Higher power is just where I was at the time)
• I search to find meaning in even my deepest pain
• I have the courage to compassionately detach from others when necessary
• I give myself credit for what I am doing to heal
• I know what I feel (this was big for me because I was usually numb)

Supportive friends:

I had three phone numbers I could call during an emotional crisis.

Comfort I can give myself:

• sleep with a stuffed animal (I had a stuffed monkey named George that I slept with as a child. I still have him and when the memories got overwhelming, I took him off the shelf and slept with him. My precious husband would bring him to me if I forgot.)
• take a bubble bath
• buy a box of crayons and color
• paint
• journal
• garden
• exercise

*My counselor encouraged us to keep our cards with us at all times. It may sound weird, but it helped. It got me focused when I felt like the world was caving in on me.

Somehow I went from keeping that card with me at all times to not realizing it was tucked away in an old journal. It's been years since I thought about it. We can and do heal (repeat three times out loud).

"Those who sow in tears shall reap in joy. He [she] who continually goes forth weeping, bearing seed for sowing, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing bringing his [her] sheaths with him [her]." Psalm 126: 5-6

It's a promise. Cry, it's only right to, but keep moving forward. You're doing great. Keep one hand in God's and reach out to encourage someone else when you can (bear seed for sowing) and your harvest will come. God is faithful. Bless you today, sweet daughters of the Most High.

Will you make yourself a personal care card today?

It's very brave of you to ask. I'm so sorry for what you've been through and for what you are now experiencing. I really do know how you feel. I also know that there is hope for you, so don't give up on yourself. You're worth fighting for!

Initially, I attended group therapy at an organization called The Family Place, in Dallas, Texas. It was free, and I needed it to be. Most cities will offer programs of this nature. I would suggest doing a Google search on: free therapy for sexual abuse; include your city and state, and see what comes up.

You may also inquire through area hospitals that offer in and out-patient programs for things of this nature. Most of them require insurance, but they may be helpful in directing you to sponsored programs if you need one.

For what to do during flashbacks and body-memories: go to "select a category" and click on sexual abuse.

There are two blogs in particular that will encourage and equip you with practical solutions that you can begin using today.

1. How Do I Overcome the Memories of Sexual Abuse
2. The Early Days of Healing from Sexual Abuse: Where do you start when you don't know where to start? 

Hope this helps. And remember, We can and do heal.

"Many a time they have afflicted me from my youth; Yet they have not prevailed against me." (Psalm 129:2 )

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." (Psalm 147:3)

We are scattered people, you and I.
Destined invisible, big and the sky.

Look at us, see through us,
Feel who we are.

We're no body's people,
The hopless stars.

It felt so true at the time. But I promise you, it's not. We are children of God and there is hope for each of us.

One smooth stone she held in her hand.
Facing the giant:
The evils of man.

The enemy thundered, "I will have my way!"
But the voice of an angel said, "Not today."

Then hate aimed an arrow at the little girl's heart,
As it splintered to pieces,
He bragged on his art.

She laid still on the ground,
It appeared she was dead,
But Jesus proclaimed, "She's sleeping," instead.

"Awake! Awake! Oh, daughter of Mine,
To a Love with no limits,
That's not bound by time.

To a place of renewal, restoration, and peace,
Where the least is a thousand,
My promise, I keep."

Now filled with His Spirit, she faced the new day,
With slingshot in hand,
She walked in His ways.

She fought the good fight.
She never backed down.

And we all watched the monster,
Fall right to the ground.

Rise up little children!
Take back your land!

God's merciful blessings,
Out number the sand.

No choices.
No voices.
Invisable child.

Need safety, protection?
Access denied.

All broken in pieces
In pieces, belief

No way to feel better.
Pseudo relief.

I wrote this poem several years ago when I was in group therapy for survivors of child sexual abuse. (I didn't have a positive attitude going into it.)

Sexual abuse is a subject that we, the church body avoids like the plague...probably because it is one. I'm sure there are women who healed instantaneously. I'm sure of it because I know that in Christ all things are possible. I've just never met one. I would be willing to bet that more often than not it's a process. Not because God delights in our suffering, but because He delights in our company and in making us strong and effective in a world that once stripped away our dignity. Metaphorically speaking, there's no way to avoid going to the gym with this one. It's how we develop spiritual muscle, (if only it burned calories).

I believe in some ways I will be healing for the rest of my life. I say that because during the course of my life, more will be revealed and therefore, more will be healed. But the gut-wrenching, I-want-to-die-or-at-least-consume-large-amounts-of-liquor part of healing only lasted one year. And then I spent another two years after that seeking God and wrestling Him. I didn't understand why healing took so long and hurt so badly. I was seeking, praying, studying, and crying to Him, but it all seemed so unfair.

I'll never forget sitting in a church service when the pastor began speaking of a woman who approached him after a sermon he had preached on submitting to authority. In so many words, she told him what he could do with his beliefs of submission. During the course of their conversation it surfaced that she was sexually abused as a little girl. He then told the congregation that he laid hands on her, prayed, and she was healed. I was knee-deep in my own healing process at the time and thought to myself, I bet she was. I bet she walked right out of there and never had another memory or feeling of dread.

But the pastor wasn't arrogant. In fact, I have the up most respect for him. I just think the church is a bit behind on understanding the long term effects of sexual abuse on the women and men who endure it and how it affects every aspect of their lives. Because if we really understood the pain, it would be reflected in how we approach and encourage those who are struggling. I say "we", because I represent part of the church; meaning the body of Christ. I'm not here to peddle a program, I'm here to point you to Jesus, who by the way, must be the center of whatever it is you're doing to heal--to the measure of joyfulness and usefulness that makes life worth living again. 

If you're not there yet, I encourage you to continue reading my blog anyway. What do you have to lose? God allowed me my own process of coming to Him, and He will graciously do the same for you. So what does it mean when Christ is in the center of your healing process? Well, from my experience, it means He must now be invited into the center of your pain. If you're a Christian, you once invited Him into your heart. "Jesus, I believe you died on a cross for my sins and rose again. Come into my heart and be my Savior."

So the next prayer might be something like, "Jesus, I hurt. I want to be healed. Come into the center of my pain, heal my wounds, and set me free." And then get ready to go where He leads you. And get ready to feel more of what you would do anything to stop feeling (just a while longer and with breaks in between). This is where relationship is developed and trust is built. And it's worth the struggle. I promise.

In the simplest of terms, this is how it works for me: I'm driving in my car listening to the radio. A song comes on that brings back horrible memories. I used to believe that I had only two choices: I could listen to the song and torture myself, or I could change the station and shove that memory right back in the pit it came from. Either way, I would later take my frustration out on the nearest loved one for the remainder of the day.

But now my healing processes always begin with a prayer. For example; "Jesus, I hate that song. It reminds me of the time...If you want me to listen to it and grieve in Your presence, I will. If you want me to turn it off and sit in silence with you, I will. You are God over that day and over the pain it brought. Be my comfort in this moment."

And then I let Him comfort me. What I noticed about this wonderful process is that over time, in His perfect presence, with absolutely no condemnation, I became aware of my sinful and hurtful reactions to the harm done to me. I wasn't responsible for the abuse I endured as a child, but I was beginning to feel responsible for the way I "coped" and I felt responsible for the harm it brought to the people I loved the most. I began to see that I had a few things to confess myself. I needed His forgiveness.

I asked for it, and He gave it. He began healing the hurt that ran so deeply for so long. And three years later, I knew it was time to forgive my abuser. And I miraculously had it in my heart to give. For real. And now I'm free. Forgiveness

See what I mean? It's a process. And if I could go back in time and choose instant healing over what I went through, I would choose the long way. Because it was on that road that I discovered how beautifully my hand fits in my Savior's.

"The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me,
Because the Lord has anointed Me,
To preach good tidings to the poor;
He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to the captives,
And the opening of the prison doors to
those who are bound" Isaiah 60:1 NKJV).

You will have a process of your own...different prayers, different circumstances that trigger different memories. Possibly entirely different scenery on your road to healing. Different struggles. Same Savior.      

Where do you start when you don't know where to start? My heart goes out to women who wonder how they're going to make it through another day with that question following them everywhere they go.

I'm gonna lay it on the line. It only takes a few seconds on this website to conclude that I'm a Christian. But I didn't start out that way. I had huge issues with the church and so for a long time Jesus was not welcome on my journey to healing. You'll get the full story this summer when my book comes out. It was a big step for me to make a commitment to getting help and an even bigger step to ask God along--God, not Jesus. I was hurt in church as a little girl and so by the time I was in my twenties, I wouldn't have uttered the name Jesus at gun point.  

Initially, I attended a state funded women's center that provided free counseling to abused women. It wasn't religious, so it was a good fit for me in the beginning. I know a lot of Christians that freak out over the idea of that, but hey, God can work miracles through anything. And He accepts us as we are.

The great thing about that program was that it taught me some very fundamental techniques for making it through bad memories without completely unraveling emotionally. Because first things first, you need to be able to function to even go to therapy or study a Bible. As I write this, I realize that it won't make sense to those who have never been abused.

I used to tell my husband that when the memories rolled in, my head felt like the way a sink full of water looks after you lift the drain. You just sort of spiral into a dark pit. So some of those "non-Christian" techniques kept me from killing myself.

After several months of therapy, I could cope, but the secret hole in my heart remained. I had been praying to God in general ways for years, and finally decided to buy a Christian workbook titled Breaking Free, authored by Beth Moore. I had decided that I would go looking for Jesus in the Bible and give Him a chance to be real to me. I had nothing to lose.

There was something about the word of God in that study that began to stir my heart. And I finally spoke the name Jesus. I asked Him who he was and who I was supposed to be. And He showed up in my heart and then proceeded to get all up in my pain. And that's the only healing process I know of that works.

It didn't happen over night, but it did happen. If I had healed over night, the odds are that I wouldn't be taking the time to help other women. And even if I had wanted to, I wouldn't have had the daily experiences to share. I've discovered over the years that my deepest wound entrusted to God has become my greatest weapon against evil. If you go to the resource page, you'll see a PDF file titled Reality Bites. You can print it out and buy a journal or spiral notebook to write your answers to the questions. It's a great place to start and it's something you can share with a therapist, counselor, or pastor (and don't forget...God).

Also on the resource page: an 800 number to a hot-line that will locate a counselor for you in your area.

Hope this helps. God is with you. You matter to Him. "It," whatever "it" is, matters to Him. But no one can make that discovery for you. No matter what, don't give up. You are worth fighting for. I realize now that the lessons learned through my toughest years of healing were never just for me. God had you in mind as well. Don't give up.

"To give light to those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death. To guide our feet into the way of peace." Luke 1:79 

I spent years wondering the same thing. As a matter of fact, I once spent four days in a mental institution to keep from killing myself, and it was there that I first asked myself that question.

There was a woman who shuffled around in a bath robe, heavily medicated, who read the Bible to everyone. She routinely "preached" to those of us who just wanted to smoke our cigarettes in silence, while wearing a T shirt that read: It's Who you know that determines where you go. I remember thinking Lady, you're in a nut ward with me!

I hope you have a twisted sense of humor--it helps in the healing process. Okay, now for my answer.

First I would like to clarify that I'm not referring to the people who only go to church on Sundays, never read their Bibles, or spend time with God. So please don't confuse them with the authentic seekers I am referring to. I once heard Joyce Meyer say that if she hung out in a garage all day it wouldn't make her a car, so hanging out in church on Sundays doesn't make a Christian.

I know women who love God. They really do. They go to church, study their Bibles, and give back to their communities. They want their lives to be an authentic example of Christianity. But if we are truly following Christ on a daily basis, He's going to ask us to follow Him into the painful places in our hearts. Not because He wants us to suffer, but because He wants us to be free.

That's what He did with me. And I discovered two things about that process that will separate the girls from the women. When I said yes to facing my past, my behavior took a turn for the worse. Initially, I confirmed what He saw in my heart with a few swear words and by not treating others with respect. Then I downshifted into "coping" with the pain instead of depending on Him. For example, smoking, abusing alcohol, shopping . . . if by now you can relate, then name your poison.

All that "bad" behavior presents a problem for those of us who sincerely want to be good Christian examples, because Satan is faithful to put an onlooker in our paths when we're blowing our "Christian testimony." And that's enough reason for many to remain unhealed. They would rather stuff their pain and maintain their "good" behavior than risk the expression of an unhealed wound. And I don't think it's generally a decision made from a point of vanity. Many a devout Christian has painted herself into a "spiritually mature" corner that leaves no room for a very human grieving process.

Here's what I have learned: You can trust God with the outcome. Hang in there; get professional help if needed, but keep in mind that time alone with God is essential to your healing process. The bad behavior will eventually subside, and you will emerge healed and way more compassionate toward others who are now going through what you just overcame.

The love of God covers a multitude of sin . . .

There were times when my children were small that I placed tough demands on them. Naps where missed, lunch was late, and during that last errand to the grocery store, inevitably, fits were thrown. But because I had required something difficult of them, I was merciful toward their behavior, whereas on any other day I might have swatted behinds.

God is no different. I'm not condoning bad behavior and neither does He. But I am saying that when He asks one of His children to face an abusive past, there is grace for the bad behavior that can't help but surface. He knows that He's asking a lot of you. He knows you are overwhelmed and frightened. Trust Him.

He will cover your sin and He'll also take care of the people you blew it in front of. God is bigger than the mistakes we make when we're learning to trust Him as He calls us to go deeper. He always blesses those who are willing to follow Him through painful places.

So give yourself a break if you've just screwed up big time. If you messed up, fess up. Now keep movin'!

 "I have blotted out, like a thick cloud, your transgressions, And like a cloud, your sins. Return to Me, for I have redeemed you" (Isaiah 44:22 NKJV).

"As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust" (Psalm 103:13-14 NIV).

My answer has two parts: First: a 9-1-1 emergency "coping response" that I learned in therapy, which has proved to be very effective in the midst of a complete meltdown.  

Second: The tried and true foundational response once you have regained your footing in the present day (which simply means that you are aware of your current age and your surroundings).

First things first, get back into the present date.

Look around, and identify what you see. For example: blue car, green tree, the name of your toddler or husband, brown sofa, etc.
It's important that you speak loudly enough to hear your own voice. It will pull you back into the moment. Try it, you'll see.

Now for the heart of the matter, you'll need to go to my resource page, and click on the PDF file titled: Reality Bites. These are the answers that will transform more than a moment of defeat, over time, they'll transform a defeated life. I've been where you are, and I know this to be true. I don't get paid to do this. I'm here to give back to you what was freely given to me. Bless you, my sister survivor.  

*Don't think that you have to graduate from the first response to the second. You'll most likely discover that there are days when they are both needed. That has been true for me. 

God, save the little ones. Not everyone is sent to bed with a hug and a story. For many, the monsters are real. Bless the children who will lie down in hunger tonight. They've never slept in princess or super hero pajamas. Embrace adult survivors and impart the courage they need to face their pasts and walk in freedom.

Convict our nation with the reality of what we teach our children by using sex as a marketing tool. Grant discernment to the parents who unknowingly place their children in the hands of unsafe caregivers.

Open our eyes to see the hearts of our children. We ask for and receive the willingness to step out of our comfort zones, and bring hope to those who are bound in despair. Create a path for the fatherless, that they may be made whole in Your presence. Amen.

"It is not the will of your Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones should perish." (Matthew 18:14 NKJV)

"Most of the women in this support group cry every time we meet, and I don't see them healing! If I have to cry to heal, then I'm really in trouble."

That was my usual response to the counselor who insisted that I would have to cry to heal. I couldn't have cried even if I had wanted to. Tears to me, invoked a vulnerability I wasn't ready for. I journaled instead:

Tiny boxes, filled with pain

Clouds of tears, but still no rain

Mystical winds blowing through our souls

God save the children

Too weak to say no.

Poem written in 2003. I have since cried a river of tears in the presence of God, and He was faithful to heal the hurt. My sweet counselor however, only saw me cry twice. If you're in therapy and you can't bring yourself to cry, don't be hard on yourself. Continue therapy, but also spend time alone with God in the privacy of your home. When you begin to believe that God can be trusted with your pain, you'll finally grieve and freedom begins.

If your wondering what you need to do in His presence. My answer is nothing. Sit quietly if you like. Or if you're mad, say you're mad. God is big and He can take it. It's the very presence of God that transforms us. It matters little what kind of mood you're in that day.

"He who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, 'He is my refuge and my fortress; my God, in Him I will trust.' Surely He shall deliver you from the snare . . ." (Psalm 91:1-3 NKJV)