reality

J’Accuse!

Today I was accused of being “entitled”.

Let me share why this is inaccurate concerning me.

I didn’t have the “luxury” of growing up in a safe home environment. I wasn’t loved, wasn’t cherished by my parents.

What I did have was abuse. I had hatred directed at me constantly.

What I did have was trauma. My favorite rapper describes my childhood home life perfectly— darker than Halloween.

What I had was an unsafe first marriage.

I’ve lived without a roof over my head because that was safer than the roofs provided for me. Yes— I mean homeless.

I am a survivor.

I am strong.

The military I served in provided me with all I needed to get to a much safer place.

Not necessarily safety— but a new direction, a healthy purpose, and a new start for my life.

I thanked my husband of 27 years today for taking care of me.

I met him through my military service.

He has provided me with a safe place to rise from the ashes of tremendous personal traumas I experienced the first half of my life.

He has always selflessly allowed me to home educate our children, to teach other children music, and to not be inundated with fear or guilt at just being alive.

He has made me feel cherished and appreciated not for what I do— but because of who I am.

Entitled?

Not me. Not ever.

Appreciative? Yes x ♾️

And so very thankful. Still. After all our years of marriage and crazed military life.

My gratitude has no end.

reality

Smile!

The number of times I have heard people say this to me is mind-numbing.

I have wished to be the type of person who smiles easily.

I’m just not.

I walked away, and turned my back on past traumas.

I have bravely confronted the causes of painful wounds that were caused by the sharp cutting of things outside of my control.

I have embraced the peace, love and joy I receive continuously from God.

None of this frees me to walk as though I am care-free, though.

Just because God has given and I have embraced joy– that does not translate to smile.

Joy does not equal happy.

Not in my book, anyway.

Joy brings tears to my eyes.

Joy brings peace to my soul.

Joy reminds me that Jesus identifies with me, He has felt my pain.

Joy does not equal smile.

Yes Jesus died for my sins, and my soul rejoices with singing and thankfulness.

But the traumas I have endured and pushed through– surrendering myself over and over again to God for His healing– they still happened.

Smile to me says “Pretend they never happened. Fake happy until you convince yourself you are happy.”

I have never once read in my Bible any commandment telling me to be happy.

I have, however, read that I am to be content in all things, patient and kind, generous and forgiving…

Not happy.

I finally figured out– the reason people throughout my life have told me to “Smile!” is because it makes them feel more comfortable.

My reasons for being unable to smile aren’t considered, just how much better others feel around me as long as I just smile.

When I hear how or see how others have been encouraged, embraced and supported in healthy ways by other family members– my soul feels a painful heaviness.

When I am honest and remember the struggles in my life now, and how the ones all throughout my life add to the weight of these newer ones– I am not able to smile.

A smile says everything is ok.

Well– it’s really not. Everything is not ok.

Does that mean I never laugh or smile at things?

It does not.

My “resting” face is not smiling.

My true friends know this, know me and my “why’s”, and accept this about me.

I’m not going to pretend.

Maybe God will grant me some amount of light-hearted times where smiling is not painful.

No matter what though, I know– I will smile all the time in Heaven. ✝️

Break-down/Break-through/Reaction, NF Lyrics, reality

Can I Cry “Uncle”?? (NF Happy Reaction)

I’m not sure where to even start.

There are so many things this song and video have stirred up in me this past week.

The title of this blog just mirrors what I am realizing within myself—

Everything I have experienced— is there ever a point where I can scream out in agony — “Enough already!”?

Is there going to ever be a complete healing, or is God just going to have to keep gouging out the infected areas of so many deep wounds that reach far beneath the surface of my very essence and existence?

Is there going to be a “sometime” where I can expect full healing to just be complete?

I mean— before God takes my spirit to Heaven?

The lyrics— once again God has given NF the words I just can’t ever put together to fix the puzzle of my darkest days past.

“I got some traumas that I can’t forget…”

But I’m not allowed to talk about them.

I’ve never been allowed to talk about them.

And now that I’m older, I’m just supposed to continue on like they never happened— or they never affected me.

Come on.

It’s time to be real!

I’ve skirted so many issues over the years, even in here, because of this invisible jail cell of silence I’ve been “sentenced” to.

I grew up traumatized by a mentally ill dad.

Just like the wish from the little girl in the video, as she blew out her candles— I left every bit of that behind so I could walk into a new life, as I followed closely— desperately— after Jesus.

Jesus forged my path into surviving, and becoming a victor— no longer a victim.

The mental and emotional abuse, on their own were enough to destroy me— except for Jesus reaching down into my life when I was just 5 or 6.

The physical abuse was more than any child should ever have to bare— and I bore it completely alone— except for Jesus.

No one reached out to me to comfort me, no one apologized to me — ever— for what my dad stole from me, and the ways he hurt me.

No family member ever had my back, was in my corner, or placed me into safety.

When my dad tried to murder my mom on Mother’s Day— he beat her with the sides of his fists— no one talked me through the effects of that.

No one.

I saw what he did.

That little girl’s face in this video— that reflects me as a child so accurately!!

I don’t know probably the majority of things he did to my mom— because she refuses to talk about stuff with anyone.

Especially me.

My mom has always had an underlying hate and embarrassment for me— for as long as I can remember.

She was always at work.

I had no relationship with her, other than she worked to make sure we had necessities.

And I am grateful for that.

But— I was robbed of a healthy, Godly relationship with her.

So— watching this HAPPY NF video— and trying to get a firm grasp of the lyrics that draw blood with every point made— so many things I’ve coated the surface over screamed in agony.

God has delivered me from the PTSD of my childhood— but His healing continues to go deeper, and becomes more intricate each time He has to gouge outmore infections I didn’t even know are there.

Infections that keep healing from being thorough.

Infections only God can see, and His timing to remove them knocks the wind out of my spirit at times.

“Living in my agony, watching my self-esteem go up in flames…” “Truth is I don’t know who I’d be if I was happy…”

What exactly is happy, anyway?

I think it’s a mirage.

Like Paul, I have learned how to become content.

So— I may not smile, I may not be outgoing and talk easily with strangers, or even acquaintances.

I have too many experiences to have that sort of carefree freedom.

I did not escape the traumas of the first half of my life unscathed.

I still freak out inside when I think about the cougar that used my head as his chew toy when I was 7 or 8.

I still feel the deepest sadness that I will never have any sort of relationship with my parents that I see so many of my friends now have, or had.

“I have family that I just can’t connect with.”

That’s why I moved away.

If I hadn’t followed God to where I am now, I doubt I’d be alive today— or want to be.

I am so very thankful for the second half of my life where God redeemed me and He provided me with a path and the support I have needed to move forward.

No one else had ever had my back.

God always has.

I am who I am today because God picked me up and carried me through trauma after trauma.

He saved my life more than once.

He Saved my soul.

He listened to me, and I have no doubt He has wiped away my rivers of tears many times.

Where I have been failed time after time by the people in my life, God never fails me.

For that reason alone I am able to rejoice despite so many years of suffering.