reality

False Encouragement

I think we all have well-meaning people in our lives. You know the ones that are quick to redirect our honest, heartfelt, deep moments of transparency, into something that makes them feel more comfortable.

The ones that think they know us well enough to correct us.

But reality is— they just don’t get us at all.

They don’t realize the wall they are putting up, or the signals they send.

Maybe this is why God is often the only One I feel comfort in, or safe confiding in.

God has never left me feeling like something is wrong with me.

He never leaves me feeling like I’m stupid, or over-sensitive, or misunderstanding His Word or calling on my life.

He never tells me to push myself farther than I know is too much for me.

He tells me to lean on Him, that He is my strength.

Not that I have to do things in my own strength or because it’s what people are expecting me to do or be like.

God has never made me feel like I don’t know what I’m talking about.

God never makes me feel like I’m a burden.

I am often confronted with things I see others have that I just don’t have.

Relationships I’ve just never had access to, for whatever reason.

I’ve spent my life working to be for others what I’ve wished I had.

Someone who hasn’t been in my shoes can’t understand my perspective.

That doesn’t mean my perspective is wrong.

That doesn’t make me a target for mocking and sarcastic opinions.

That makes me normal.

I have been broken.

God has chosen to repair some things, but He has also— for His reasons— chosen to not repair other things.

Relationships.

Giving my life to Christ has not fixed anything about me to perfection.

I have been conditioned to feel ashamed, to feel “less than” everyone else.

But Not by God.

God has been working deeply in me to re-condition me. To fix ungodly beliefs about me being deserving of nothing more than being under the feet of others. Ungodly beliefs that I deserve to be the scapegoat carrying the shame of others.

That is not what God has created me to be.

I have grown children, and I’m still struggling with a belief system imposed on me as a child— the belief that things would be better if I just weren’t born. Belief that I’m supposed to take the blame for things others have done.

Belief that my reputation, my feelings— my life— don’t matter like everyone else’s does.

Undeserving of the life God chose to give to me.

Those are lies of the enemy of God that people who claim to be Christians have imposed upon me.

It’s not often, anymore, that I reflect upon these things.

As I do now, I recognize God’s Hand upon my life.

God moved me away. He has provided for me and nurtured me.

As The Potter, He has been deep at work reshaping the ungodly beliefs others have bestowed upon me. People I have striven to impress, to gain the attention and affection of.

Even today, decades later, the striving is in vain.

It’s exhausting being the only one that cares about nurturing relationships I’ve wanted to desperately hang on to.

I am exhausted.

So— I am letting them go.

I’m not expecting the same effort I put in. In fact— I’ve already experienced the evidence that I can fade off into the distance, and just be gossip, but no relationship.

Experience has taught me I’m not someone others will put that effort into.

Emotionally it has always been a taxing thing for me. It has caused anxiety, stress— worry…

Physically I am just as weak as I am emotionally, now.

My reaction wants to be to just not care.

But that’s not how God made me.

God made me to not only care— He made me to empathize with others who have similar experiences.

There are those I’ve tried to share things with that will tell me to calm down, that I’m too sensitive, that what I’m feeling or understanding isn’t real.

Those people are wrong.

And I’m done hitting the walls they put up out of intolerance for what is just me.

God placed them in my life. I don’t believe they are fulfilling God’s calling for them in my life, and I do think God cares.

Often my spirit feels weighted down with a sense of grieving. That is just fact.

It’s not depression.

It’s not self-esteem issues.

It’s grief.

Grief over the ones who helped instill those ungodly beliefs God is working to fix my understanding of.

Grief as He calls attention to them, as He focuses on making sure I recognize each one of them, and He shows me what His Truth about each one is.

People are fallible.

I just want to be malleable under His Hand as He works out all of those mars and lumps.

NF – All I Have Lyrics excerpts “All I ever wanted was somebody to hear me
And all I ever wanted was somebody to feel me
And everybody wanna tell me that I’m out of my head…”
“And you better get ready cause you might find
I’m from a different place and my kind
It’s a little bit different than yours is…”
“I don’t live for the world
I live for the King, I live for the King, focus
Wrote this with emotion
You do what you wanted but you can’t contain me…”

Don’t tell me that this isn’t real, don’t tell me it’s not how I feel…”

“All I ever wanted was somebody to get this…”
I stand behind these words. I’m a Christian but I’m not perfect
Don’t tell me to calm down. I’m calm now,…”
“Yeah it might take a minute to get it but once you get it everything will be crystal clear
I don’t think they see my vision here. I don’t think they see my vision here!
Don’t tell me that this isn’t real
Don’t tell me this ain’t how I feel
This is all I have. All I have.”

NF – All I Have

introspection, reality, The Past

Translucent— Paralyzed (Do You See Me Down Here, Oh Lord?)

Merriam-Webster defines translucent as:

permitting the passage of light:

: transmitting and diffusing light so that objects beyond cannot be seen clearly

Clear, transparent

translucent water

: free from disguise or falseness”

I guess if I had a “theme” for my blog posts, this might be a defining term I’m aiming for.

I’ve been working my way through more NF songs, lately. Today, I have two on my heart.

The first one, I think it’s a deeply important one to address— “Paralyzed”. The second is the chorus from “Oh Lord”. (I think both can be a great mash-up.)

As the “Paralyzed” lyrics flow, they hit sensitive areas in my past that I buried or forgot about.

Oh, my God, thank You— he has described this lack of just everything— that I could never put a name to!!

I still have moments of this numb feeling, in certain social situations, I get struck with this— paralysis— NF has given it a name! I can define it! You have no idea how impactful and healing that is for me. If the “spotlight” focus of attention is on me— I still sometimes freeze up! When I leave social meetings, I sometimes have this weird ache— almost like that feeling when the numbness wears off at the dentist— in my chest. I feel vulnerable,

exposed.

I spent many of my youthful days going through the motions, disconnected from my emotions.

These lyrics transcend just words for me— they overwhelm my spirit with… I don’t really know what. Understanding, maybe? Relief?

I didn’t think anyone could ever understand. No one around me ever seemed to. But then— I was afraid to even ask, to talk about anything.

I just thought I was alone.

And then— I remember someone telling me they struggled with the same kind of eating issues that I did— and they gave it a name— Anorexia. I thought I had a friend I could identify with, that understood me. But— friendship with me wasn’t something she was interested in. In fact— she seemed annoyed that I had those problems too.

I was alone.

My whole life, all I ever wanted was to feel included, wanted, appreciated— valued.

Absorbing the lyrics from the NF song “Paralyzed”— they took me right back to those moments. Only, as I again felt them, I was also standing outside of it all, looking at it from a perspective of having been healed, or delivered, from the damage and circumstances that rendered me

detached.

I remember walking through my middle school hallways, realizing— I couldn’t feel anything.

I was emotionally numb.

I think that was when the self harm started for me.

I spent years hiding the scars on my arms and legs. They have faded, can’t be seen easily anymore, but I know exactly where they are.

When I wrote poems, I marveled over where the words even came from. I didn’t write thoughts I was meditating on, inspiration didn’t come from outer sources, dreams or conversations. I would wake up in the middle of the night, and I just had to write.

“Can You see us down here, Oh Lord?”

I wonder what I look like to God? I know all the encouraging words of Scripture— and I believe them.

I also know God sees what we can’t see or understand.

I think as the lyrics from “Paralyzed” grab my heart, make me catch my breath from overwhelming remembrance, understanding— and emotions I’m no longer detached from, flood all my senses— I see that God is outside of things, but He somehow still feels what we feel, He sees what we see— and so much more.

My world felt impossibly dark and devastating.

But God.

God’s Light has diffused the darkness my soul was held captive in. His Holy Light came into my life, and all that nasty darkness fled— Jesus set this captive free. He healed my heart and my life.

He restores my soul.

Daily.

As much as we often believe our childhood shapes and defines us— it’s not permanent. I believe that.

The damning, torturous grip that once had its hold on me, has been released.

God broke the fingers of that stronghold over my perception, that affected my decisions.

There are some who are in a similar place to where I was.

It can get better. Most often, circumstances aren’t permanent. There is nothing God cannot change, heal, repair, restore or improve.

You are not alone.

Nothing is too difficult for God.

“Intro:]
When did I become so numb?
When did I lose myself?
All the words that leave my tongue
Feel like they came from someone else

I’m paralyzed (Do You see me down here, oh Lord?) (Yeah, I’m just so paralyzed)
Where are my feelings? (Don’t You see me down here, oh Lord?) (Yeah, I’m just so paralyzed)
I no longer feel things (I have no feelings)
I know I should (Can You see me down here, oh Lord?) (Oh. How come I’m not moving? Why aren’t I moving? Ay yeah)
I’m paralyzed
Where is the real me? (Can’t You see me down here, oh Lord??) (Where is the real me?)
I’m lost and it kills me – inside (I’m paralyzed)

[Verse 1:]
When did I become so cold?
When did I become ashamed? (Ooh)
Where’s the person that I know?
They must have left
They must have left
With all my faith

[Verse 2:]
I’m paralyzed (Do You see me down here, oh Lord?)
I’m scared to live but I’m scared to die
And if life is pain then I buried mine a long time ago
But it’s still alive
And it’s taking over me – where am I? (Don’t You see me down here, oh Lord?)
I wanna feel something, I’m numb inside
But I feel nothing, I wonder why
And on the race of life time passes by
Look
I sit back and I watch it, hands in my pockets
Waves come crashing over me but I just watch ’em (Can You see me down here, oh Lord?)
I just watch ’em
I’m under water but I feel like I’m on top of it
I’m at the bottom and I don’t know what the problem is
I’m in a box (Can’t You see me down here, oh Lord?)
But I’m the one who locked me in
Suffocating and I’m running out of oxygen

[Outro]
Do You see us down here? Oh Lord
Can You see us down here? Oh Lord
Oh Lord, oh Lord
Can You see us? Can’t You see us?down here? Oh Lord
Oh Lord, oh Lord
Can You see us? Can’t You see us?”

Walking With God

Keeping It 100– Real

My youngest has become a superfan of NF. My whole family, I think, is a fan at some level, but my youngest, who is 11, surprises us sometimes by his choice in ringtones (Leave Me Alone!— NF song 😅), and what he has stored on his flip phone— mostly NF songs. The other day, he chose Therapy Session to play through the car radio. I asked him if he related to the words and felt like he needed therapy because of me, lol. He said “No.”

As I absorbed the impact of the words in the song, once again I was drawn into just how much they reflect my own heart. One phrase is “I was talking to fans
And one of them pulled me aside and said
“We never met but I swear that you know who I am
I been through a lot
I don’t know how to express it to people, don’t think that I can…”

Well, that’s me, for sure. I could have been that fan!

Another phrase jumped out at me, and has been bouncing around in my thoughts. It’s actually the inspiration for this post.

“This music” (my blog) “is not just for people who sit in the pews and pray at the churches
I’ve been rejected
I don’t expect everyone to respect it
I don’t expect you to get my perspective
What you expect from a therapy session, huh?

“I mean, I think sometimes people they confuse what I’m doing
I write about life, I write about things that I’m actually dealing with
Something that I’m actually experiencing, this is real for me
Like this is something that personally helps me as well
I’m not confused about who gave me the gift
God gave me the gift, and he gave me the ability to do this…”

“And he also gave me this as an outlet…”

This is me here—

The experiences NF has shared in his music are NOT the same as mine— the reactions, emotions, and scarred-over-wounds— they often are the same.

You don’t walk away, sometimes run away, from the things I’ve lived through and some things I have done, without wounds— some very, very deep wounds. Most are now scars— but

even scars hurt sometimes.

While this is sometimes my type of therapy, I am open and honest in sharing here to possibly reach out to maybe even one person who needs soneone to step up along side them, and show someone really does understand.

That is always my intent here.

Always.

So, I am going to be misunderstood.

I am going to be “corrected”.

I am still going to be told I should write about “happy, positive things”.

I am going to be given advice I don’t need.

I am going to make some people uncomfortable.

I want to apologize, because that’s in my nature, but I won’t. Because this is how God made me.

I don’t need a therapist— I have God. God’s Holy Spirit is my counselor. His Word is my “self-help” book.

I have this blog to sort out things. To help me see things, to work through them.

I get it all out or my head and my heart, sometimes here, sometimes in prayer privately.

I have learned that how to let things go, to give them to God, is to NOT try to lock them in a dark closet, or sweep them under a rug.

To get them out into the open, to look at them fully, to examine the roots as much as possible, to confront them— to surrender them to Jesus.

And then I move on.

Sometimes I bring others into my process through my blog posts— but not always.

Sometimes it’s just between God and me.

But— you, whoever and wherever you are, are always welcome to look here to find understanding and hopefully some degree of God’s healing.

Everyone needs to be heard, to be understood— to be identified with.

That’s my intention— always.

I am not the perfect writer. I am not perfect in any way— ever.

I am just real.

Because that’s how God has made me to be.

http://www.absolutelyrics.com/lyrics/view/nf/therapy_session

“Yeah, I gotta say like a month ago
I was talking to fans
And one of them pulled me aside and said
“We never met but I swear that you know who I am
I been through a lot
I don’t know how to express it to people
Don’t think that I can but I got that mansion CD on rotation
That’s real for me Nate, you do not understand”
It’s crazy for me
Kids hit me up, say they slitting they wrists on the daily
This music is more than you think
Don’t book me for just entertainment, it’s entertaining
Hearing these parents, they telling their kids
My music is violent, you gotta be kidding me
I guess that your definition of violence and mine
Is something that we look at differently
How do you picture me ah?
Want me to smile, you want me to laugh
You want me to walk in the stage with a smile on my face
When I’m mad and put on a mask, for real though
I mean, what you expect from me?
I’m tryna do this respectfully
They say that life is a race
I know my problems’ll probably catch up eventually
I do my best to be calm
How you gon’ write me and tell me you slaughter my family?
That’s just a glimpse to the stuff that get sent to me
These the parts of my life that’ll never see, woo
I am aware it’s aggressive
I am not here for acceptance
I don’t know what you expect here
But what you expect when you walk in a therapy session?

Therapy, therapy session
Therapy, therapy session

This girl at the show looked me in the face
And told me her life’s full of drama
Said that her dad is abusive
Apparently he likes to beat on her mama
I got so angry inside
I wanted to tell her to give me his number
But what you gon’ do with it right?
You gon’ hit him up then he’ll start hitting her harder
That’s real
These kids, they come to my shows
With tears in they eyes
Imagine someone looking at you
And saying your music’s the reason that they are alive
Sometimes, I don’t know how to handle it
This type of life isn’t glamorous
This ain’t an act for the cameras
You see me walk on these stages but have no idea what I’m dealing with after it
I put it all in the open
This is the way that I cope with all my emotion
I’m taking pictures with thousands of people
But honestly, I feel like nobody knows me
I’m trying to deal with depression
I’m trying to deal with the pressure
How you gon’ tell me my music does not have a message
When I’m looking out at this crowd full of people I know I affected?
Ah, I got some things in my life, I know I should let ’em go
Let me jot it down, let me take a mental note
I put it all in this microphone, think about that for a minute
What is the point of this song, I’m just venting but what you expect from a therapy session?

Therapy, therapy session
Therapy, therapy session

What you think about me
That doesn’t worry me
I know I handle some things immaturely
I know that I need to grow in maturity
I ain’t gon’ walk on these stages in front of these people
And act like I live my life perfectly
That doesn’t work for me
Christian is not the definition of a perfect me, woo
I ain’t the type to be quiet
I ain’t gon’ sit here in silence
If I wouldn’t say what I say to your face
Then I promise you I wouldn’t say it in private
I am not lying
People go off on my page and I’m trying to quit the replying
But this is ridiculous
I’m passionate man, I really mean what I’m writing
You want me to keep it 100? Okay, I’ll keep it 100
I see a whole lot of talking on socials
But honestly, I don’t see nothing in public
I kinda love it, yeah
“Why don’t you write us some happy raps?
That would be awesome
All your music is moody and dark, Nate”
Don’t get me started
You wanna know what it’s like if you met me in person?
Listen to my verses
This music is not just for people
Who sit in the pews and pray at the churches
I won’t reject it
I don’t expect everyone to respect it
I don’t expect you to get my perspective
What you expect from a therapy session?

I mean, I think sometimes people they confuse what I’m doing
I write about life, I write about things that I’m actually dealing with
Something that I’m actually experiencing, this is real for me
Like this is something that personally helps me as well
I’m not confused about who gave me the gift
God gave me the gift and he gave me the ability to do this
And he also gave me this as an outlet
And that’s what music is for me
When I feel something, whether it’s anger
Um, it’s a passion about something, or frustration
Like this is where I go, this is, that’s the whole nfrealmusic thing man
This is real for me, I need this, this is a therapy for me”

Strong Woman

Your Discomfort Is Not My Responsibility

hair-in-sunrise-2513x1670_18986

When we started dating, my husband, bless his heart, listened to so many stories from my past. He was my true friend– still is. He didn’t live through the same kinds of pain, and maybe he didn’t really want to hear what I was telling him about– but he did. I know he did, because he can still tell me things I told him about back then. He listened, and he remembers.

There are moments when I’m reminded just how separated from most people my experiences have shaped me to be. While I no longer hold onto anger, grudges or the pain of most, those experiences are still very important parts of who I am and why I am the way I am. But– why have I had to have so many of them? I have too much to add to some conversations, and nothing to add to most. Small talk is easier now, but it used to be impossible.

How I wish I didn’t have so much to say about some very difficult things. Most people have one or two, maybe three tough life experiences. If I stopped to count, I could name at least 8– ranging from spirit-breaking to devastating to near-death.

I’ve met very few that could honestly say the same, to the same degree as my own.

This causes me to realize just how alone I really am.

Certain songwriters’ lyrics speak to issues and express feelings I haven’t been able to give my own words to. I was surprised to hear Plumb’s story recently. I thought for sure she must have lived through similar devastating life circumstances to my own, because her words reach down into depths I had forgotten existed in my own past. What she has experienced are not light matters, it just wasn’t what I expected because of the impact her music has had on me. NF is another one that has a few songs that reach the depths of my spirit and my painful past, sometimes so deeply I have to stop listening to it. Through his music, I would guess he’s at a place in his healing that I’ve already passed through in much of mine, so sometimes his lyrics cause me to go back to the negative view of things God has already visited and healed in me.

My point in writing this is– I know I will never “fit in”.  I’m ok with that, now, I just recognize it for what it is. I recognize and I now just accept that if I mention or blog about something that nearly broke me in my past, a rare few stop to listen/read.

They don’t hear what God claims as victory in me.

I think some would rather I stay silent about those uncomfortable things because they don’t have to acknowledge them. Some think I haven’t moved past things if I bring them up. Some feel uncomfortable if others hear.

It happened to me.

It happened. To me.

Don’t they think I feel uncomfortable having to live with those memories, and the shame attached to them?

But– as long as I go out of my way to make everyone else feel comfortable by never mentioning publicly what has been constantly uncomfortable for me– it’s ok. Because they aren’t uncomfortable, and it’s got to be all about me making sure no one feels any discomfort around me because of circumstances outside of my control. That happened. To me.

I try very hard to be gentle in what I share. But to remain silent about it because of the expectations of others feels like I’m being shoved into that box I’m not meant to go into.

The comfort of others is not my responsibility, and it never should have been something anyone has expected me to go out of my way to ensure for others.

The subjects that were the main theme of my past are more than anyone was meant to carry. I’m not carrying that burden of protecting everyone from knowing what happened to me, anymore. That is not my calling. Because to not be upfront about what God has had to do in my life to help me be a normal, functioning woman, is to suppress the glory and praise God alone deserves. The discomfort or embarrassment others experience at hearing about what I have had to survive is not my responsibility.

I’m not going to be silenced by silent or verbal disapproval.

If they care at all about me, they will instead rejoice at what God has done and is still doing in my life– every time I mention it. They would praise and thank God for working unseen from most so that I am still alive, instead of them wishing, maybe, that I weren’t. If someone is embarrassed by something that happened to me because I mention it, the problem is with them, not with me.

People have to know what happened to me so they can praise and thank God for what He did when He rescued me.

And, He has rescued me. More than once.

If you have a broken limb, everyone sees the cast, and most will ask what happened. I’ve had a broken life, and if people were paying attention, they would have seen that. Since the things that broke my spirit are hidden, people want them to remain hidden so they don’t have to be inconvenienced by knowing.

I see that as a problem, never a solution.

That whole #MeToo campaign gave me hope that finally victims would be able to speak out, and be received with hearts of compassion. How disappointing that it’s become a mockery to victims, and I do not mean the fake ones paid to lie to ruin reputations! That needs to be exposed! Where is justice for the real victims of sexual assault? Not the “He said I look pretty.” garbage!

I am a survivor of real sexual abuse, who can claim victory. #MeToo #VictimToVictor #TheTruthHasSetMeFree

Those who don’t want me to speak out can #GetOverIt.