Hi everyone. Short note as we are somewhere else and busy!!! Living in a group culture environment at the moment, and it is tiring. I enjoy the people, but at times long for a moment alone...
Just wanted to say that things are not worse, and are possibly better. I think getting out of the stressful environment for some time was good. We do get moments when we travel alone that we are bonding as a family again and spending some fun time together.
Keep praying. I don't know what the return will be like and what life will be like when we pick up work again, but I am trying to leave that in God's hands for now and just rest.
Summer is hot.... wow! I love heat, but this is too much for even me!
I'll try to be in touch when I get back. Hope you're surviving summer (for those of you in hot places) or enjoying summer (for those of you in hot places).
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Monday, June 24, 2013
Waiting for the White Horse
I should change the name of my blog... to family in crisis or something. But in the very beginning, I began blogging because I needed an outlet, a voice. And even then, I was in the middle of nowhere... in my relationship, in my life. Living with this mess, unable to even know how to ask for help.
This blog gave me a voice. It gave me people to hear me who were not in our leadership or wrapped up in it. Those people gave me back my identity. Reminded me, along with a couple who walked with me, that I was who God said I was, not who people said I was. That process of believing that, and then believing it enough to be brave enough to take action takes awhile.
It takes even longer when your first attempts to ask for help end up with leadership attacking your character.
But I am still here. Alive.
I cried tears for years. Why is not one stepping in to defend me? Does God care? Why doesn't HE defend me, either? I still have many of those questions. It has hurt that no one would defend me. Even when showing them this horrific letter full of false accusations, no one was willing to step up and say, "no. You can't do that." It hurt. I wanted someone to ride in on a white horse and save the day.
But these last weeks, I finally decided that I have a right to say no. And I took the letter to the leadership above my leadership. I showed it to them along with my request that this leader be removed from oversight of our healing process right now.
I heard nothing.
I was up all that night crying. That the man read it and said nothing. I was sick to my stomach. I got the chills. I was crushed.
But I gathered the remnants of my courage up one last time and asked him why he had not responded at all. He stopped, and told me he hadn't seen that letter before and needed some time to process it. He also needed to talk to the writer of the letter, Dick as we call him here. I was initially, for half a second, disappointed. But then I recovered. What I am so upset about is that Dick took years of accusations about me, and shared them, and never came to me about them. The fact that "Harry" is going to go to Dick about them is a sign that he is a man of integrity.
So I rested.
Harry actually took action the next day. What is resulting is that people are seeing Dick for who he is, and seeing what he has done. He has been formally rebuked already and there are plans in place for him to meet with the leadership and me to hear how he went wrong and to apologize. I have informed them that I will be bringing a support person to that meetings. There was opposition to that at first, but I calmly insisted that I do have a right to support, and I will do that. Right away, they agreed and rescheduled the meeting for later when I can have my person with me.
The other day, as I drove, I thought about something. All those years wishing someone would defend me, and no one did. But I defended myself. I wonder if God was waiting. Waiting so I would learn this skill.
You see, even if someone else defends you, you are still the victim.
But if you defend yourself, then you step out of that role. And you learn that, no, I can tell you to stop.
Still thinking that through.
But as I sit here today and realize that I, alone, took on a mission leader that was abusive and used the right authorities and channels and respectfully, but firmly, put what was happening in the light and am getting help.... I feel a tremendous sense of power. Not evil power, but safe power. Power to defend myself.
Not only am I worth defending, I can defend myself. I can say no.
And now I watch and smile.
So this is short because we are about to leave for a summer elsewhere, and I don't have time to mull over these thoughts and write deeply. There is still massive work to be done to save the marriage, but as my parents said, we have to attack both problems simultaneously as they impact each other if we want results. We have addressed one side of the problem, and getting headway. With this man out of the picture, I think healing will begin faster and be more successful.
But I wanted to say two things - if you are one of those people that have been around here for awhile, writing comments, praying, and encouraging me - Thank-you. You have given me my voice back.
And if you are someone who still cries tears at night wanting someone to care enough to defend you, you have all of my heart with you. Somethings are not right, and everyone should have someone that beats people up when they hurt you. But be that person for yourself. Speak up. And keep speaking up. Maybe God is waiting, too, until you learn that you can step over that line and take on the role of defender - to defend yourself because you are really worth it, and in stepping over that line, you will step out of the role of a victim and be an avenger. I didn't know I was still in that role. I would have said I wasn't. But it is in setting this whole process into motion that I find that I was. I was passive hoping someone else would act. Now I am active - calling shots and putting light on what was wrong.
Now, to be honest, to do that is much easier when you have a few good people in your corner, but sometimes I wonder if God waits for us to step off the ropes and speak up.
I may get to blog once or twice in the summer, but I may not. Please keep praying for me. It is still a critical time in my life.
This blog gave me a voice. It gave me people to hear me who were not in our leadership or wrapped up in it. Those people gave me back my identity. Reminded me, along with a couple who walked with me, that I was who God said I was, not who people said I was. That process of believing that, and then believing it enough to be brave enough to take action takes awhile.
It takes even longer when your first attempts to ask for help end up with leadership attacking your character.
But I am still here. Alive.
I cried tears for years. Why is not one stepping in to defend me? Does God care? Why doesn't HE defend me, either? I still have many of those questions. It has hurt that no one would defend me. Even when showing them this horrific letter full of false accusations, no one was willing to step up and say, "no. You can't do that." It hurt. I wanted someone to ride in on a white horse and save the day.
But these last weeks, I finally decided that I have a right to say no. And I took the letter to the leadership above my leadership. I showed it to them along with my request that this leader be removed from oversight of our healing process right now.
I heard nothing.
I was up all that night crying. That the man read it and said nothing. I was sick to my stomach. I got the chills. I was crushed.
But I gathered the remnants of my courage up one last time and asked him why he had not responded at all. He stopped, and told me he hadn't seen that letter before and needed some time to process it. He also needed to talk to the writer of the letter, Dick as we call him here. I was initially, for half a second, disappointed. But then I recovered. What I am so upset about is that Dick took years of accusations about me, and shared them, and never came to me about them. The fact that "Harry" is going to go to Dick about them is a sign that he is a man of integrity.
So I rested.
Harry actually took action the next day. What is resulting is that people are seeing Dick for who he is, and seeing what he has done. He has been formally rebuked already and there are plans in place for him to meet with the leadership and me to hear how he went wrong and to apologize. I have informed them that I will be bringing a support person to that meetings. There was opposition to that at first, but I calmly insisted that I do have a right to support, and I will do that. Right away, they agreed and rescheduled the meeting for later when I can have my person with me.
The other day, as I drove, I thought about something. All those years wishing someone would defend me, and no one did. But I defended myself. I wonder if God was waiting. Waiting so I would learn this skill.
You see, even if someone else defends you, you are still the victim.
But if you defend yourself, then you step out of that role. And you learn that, no, I can tell you to stop.
Still thinking that through.
But as I sit here today and realize that I, alone, took on a mission leader that was abusive and used the right authorities and channels and respectfully, but firmly, put what was happening in the light and am getting help.... I feel a tremendous sense of power. Not evil power, but safe power. Power to defend myself.
Not only am I worth defending, I can defend myself. I can say no.
And now I watch and smile.
So this is short because we are about to leave for a summer elsewhere, and I don't have time to mull over these thoughts and write deeply. There is still massive work to be done to save the marriage, but as my parents said, we have to attack both problems simultaneously as they impact each other if we want results. We have addressed one side of the problem, and getting headway. With this man out of the picture, I think healing will begin faster and be more successful.
But I wanted to say two things - if you are one of those people that have been around here for awhile, writing comments, praying, and encouraging me - Thank-you. You have given me my voice back.
And if you are someone who still cries tears at night wanting someone to care enough to defend you, you have all of my heart with you. Somethings are not right, and everyone should have someone that beats people up when they hurt you. But be that person for yourself. Speak up. And keep speaking up. Maybe God is waiting, too, until you learn that you can step over that line and take on the role of defender - to defend yourself because you are really worth it, and in stepping over that line, you will step out of the role of a victim and be an avenger. I didn't know I was still in that role. I would have said I wasn't. But it is in setting this whole process into motion that I find that I was. I was passive hoping someone else would act. Now I am active - calling shots and putting light on what was wrong.
Now, to be honest, to do that is much easier when you have a few good people in your corner, but sometimes I wonder if God waits for us to step off the ropes and speak up.
I may get to blog once or twice in the summer, but I may not. Please keep praying for me. It is still a critical time in my life.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
A Long Update
Life gets so very busy in this time of year. Schools wrapping up, exams for my kids who are now suddenly old enough to be talking about colleges and futures. Just so much on my plate at the moment. It's hard with the energy drain that relationship stress brings.
My daughter got a concussion playing sports, so she's been home for a few days doing very little. It's been nice to have her here.
My husband is traveling again just for a few days. I had great plans to accomplish much while he was gone, but I don't know if I will. I spent the first two days with a migraine. My daughter who was home for me to take care of her ended up taking care of me.
We're hitting the road ourselves in a few weeks for our summer travels. Not furlough, but a trip to a new area to do some work with others. We will also take a few weeks vacation during the trip, so I sort of look forward to it. It is just being on the road for two months is not always easy. A lot of adapting is needed.
It's been rough at home for weeks. Stress, and then the added stress of being placed in the hands of others has worn me out. Knowing that the people that have taken charge of trying to help in the situation are themselves not free of bias has been very difficult for me. People say, "just trust God to work through them", but it is not easy to do. I wonder if "just trusting God and submit to the leadership" is always the right answer. I am currently working under a leadership, under a man, who is so biased that he has written a letter to the other people involved in helping detailing how he thinks I have psychological problems, am a pathological liar, and am impossible to live with. This leader has never lived in the same country or province as me, yet he says this. And then people say, "just trust your leadership".
I think at some point there comes a time where it is ok and right to confront leadership. To say, "this is not right". I've tried the Matthew 18 principle in talking to him first. I tried. Three times. I mentioned that to two people on our team and they laughed and said, "no, there is no point trying to talk to him on your own; he would never listen." So I am thinking of taking two people with me and going to talk to him...
You see, it is not just for my sake. He is actively harming my husband's chances of healing if that is the voice in his ear. You become like your friends; you become like your mentors. This man has taught my husband to blame instead of take responsibility. He has taught him to dismiss and deride women instead of acting in gentleness. He is a harmful influence.
But it is interesting. While people will readily say, "he's way off base here, he's so wrong", no one has the courage to stand up and say,"I'll go with you" or "I'll stand beside you". They say, "it has to be done, for sure", but then say, "why don't we just trust God that He brings a way to do it".
That is hard for me. That no one will stand with me. I can understand it - they don't want to be on his black list... but it hurts. There are two who are willing to go with me, but they are people outside our team and have no real influence on this man. I just don't know what to do.
The other option instead of following Matthew 18 and going to him again with two or three others is to go over his head. The director above him is now involved too. The problem is that he is getting a large part of his information from our leader, Dick. So I have no clue what he is thinking. I think he is a more fair man than Dick is. But I don't know. I've heard he is. Rumors from people who know him who say he is beginning to see the truth from others he's sent in to assess and he's amazed that it is this bad, that no one stood up before and said it had to stop, that I've put up with it for so long so well. It makes me hopeful. Hopeful that if I went to him with proof of Dick's views and actions that he may listen. That he may step in.
But I am nervous. What if he is like Dick? What if another leadership blame the hurting? Years of being treated unfairly make me gunshy. Yet through this process, I've taken steps to say "I will choose to be brave". Perhaps this is one more I need to take. I don't know. I meet with two people this week, the new counselor (seems much better than the CFH we went to before) and my pastor here. Two people who might be able to give me some insight into how to address this.
Because you don't heal with an abusive person on the healing team. I know it is a strong word, but his actions have crossed the line into abuse - spiritual abuse. The abuse of power. It is a constant open wound knowing that my details in this process are shared with this man who has been such a destructive influence in my life. That he continues to be allowed to "encourage" my husband who desperately needs to get away from his brand of encouraging.
I'm talking more with my parents by skype recently. Trying to get some help to sort out the situation. They say, too, that healing this will take a two pronged approach. One with my husband and one with Dick. And they need to be done simultaneously because they support each other. Sadly, supporting each other is supposed to be good, but when you have two people with a warped view supporting each other in a warped way, it is damaging, not helpful.
But it is difficult. I live among people who say, "we see, and we know what is going on" but "we don't want to say anything... he's the leader, you know. Let's just trust God to work it out." I believe in trusting God, but when just trusting God becomes a euphemism for doing nothing, there is a problem.
Nathan could have "just trusted God" about David's sin. He didn't. He trusted God and took action. Creative, respectful action, but action. And he saved a nation.
Nehemiah could have "just trusted God" when he heard about the state of Jerusalem. He didn't. He trusted God and spoke to the king. And he rebuilt a city.
The thing is, these people have seen for years. People have seen for years. They've seen what is happening, they've seen what Dick has been saying, and they've "just trusted God" to do something. You see, my husband is so valuable at what he does.... You see, Dick is a leader.... They've seen, so many have seen... and they have left us to suffer because they choose to "just trust God" instead of "trust God" and seek what action He calls them to.
The inaction of people who have seen for years hurts. It is hard to comprehend. Is it the bystander effect - where if some people walk on by a dying person and ignore them, the crowd does too? I don't know. But the effect of silent, inactive bystanders is often as painful to deal with as the problems I face.
My daughter got a concussion playing sports, so she's been home for a few days doing very little. It's been nice to have her here.
My husband is traveling again just for a few days. I had great plans to accomplish much while he was gone, but I don't know if I will. I spent the first two days with a migraine. My daughter who was home for me to take care of her ended up taking care of me.
We're hitting the road ourselves in a few weeks for our summer travels. Not furlough, but a trip to a new area to do some work with others. We will also take a few weeks vacation during the trip, so I sort of look forward to it. It is just being on the road for two months is not always easy. A lot of adapting is needed.
It's been rough at home for weeks. Stress, and then the added stress of being placed in the hands of others has worn me out. Knowing that the people that have taken charge of trying to help in the situation are themselves not free of bias has been very difficult for me. People say, "just trust God to work through them", but it is not easy to do. I wonder if "just trusting God and submit to the leadership" is always the right answer. I am currently working under a leadership, under a man, who is so biased that he has written a letter to the other people involved in helping detailing how he thinks I have psychological problems, am a pathological liar, and am impossible to live with. This leader has never lived in the same country or province as me, yet he says this. And then people say, "just trust your leadership".
I think at some point there comes a time where it is ok and right to confront leadership. To say, "this is not right". I've tried the Matthew 18 principle in talking to him first. I tried. Three times. I mentioned that to two people on our team and they laughed and said, "no, there is no point trying to talk to him on your own; he would never listen." So I am thinking of taking two people with me and going to talk to him...
You see, it is not just for my sake. He is actively harming my husband's chances of healing if that is the voice in his ear. You become like your friends; you become like your mentors. This man has taught my husband to blame instead of take responsibility. He has taught him to dismiss and deride women instead of acting in gentleness. He is a harmful influence.
But it is interesting. While people will readily say, "he's way off base here, he's so wrong", no one has the courage to stand up and say,"I'll go with you" or "I'll stand beside you". They say, "it has to be done, for sure", but then say, "why don't we just trust God that He brings a way to do it".
That is hard for me. That no one will stand with me. I can understand it - they don't want to be on his black list... but it hurts. There are two who are willing to go with me, but they are people outside our team and have no real influence on this man. I just don't know what to do.
The other option instead of following Matthew 18 and going to him again with two or three others is to go over his head. The director above him is now involved too. The problem is that he is getting a large part of his information from our leader, Dick. So I have no clue what he is thinking. I think he is a more fair man than Dick is. But I don't know. I've heard he is. Rumors from people who know him who say he is beginning to see the truth from others he's sent in to assess and he's amazed that it is this bad, that no one stood up before and said it had to stop, that I've put up with it for so long so well. It makes me hopeful. Hopeful that if I went to him with proof of Dick's views and actions that he may listen. That he may step in.
But I am nervous. What if he is like Dick? What if another leadership blame the hurting? Years of being treated unfairly make me gunshy. Yet through this process, I've taken steps to say "I will choose to be brave". Perhaps this is one more I need to take. I don't know. I meet with two people this week, the new counselor (seems much better than the CFH we went to before) and my pastor here. Two people who might be able to give me some insight into how to address this.
Because you don't heal with an abusive person on the healing team. I know it is a strong word, but his actions have crossed the line into abuse - spiritual abuse. The abuse of power. It is a constant open wound knowing that my details in this process are shared with this man who has been such a destructive influence in my life. That he continues to be allowed to "encourage" my husband who desperately needs to get away from his brand of encouraging.
I'm talking more with my parents by skype recently. Trying to get some help to sort out the situation. They say, too, that healing this will take a two pronged approach. One with my husband and one with Dick. And they need to be done simultaneously because they support each other. Sadly, supporting each other is supposed to be good, but when you have two people with a warped view supporting each other in a warped way, it is damaging, not helpful.
But it is difficult. I live among people who say, "we see, and we know what is going on" but "we don't want to say anything... he's the leader, you know. Let's just trust God to work it out." I believe in trusting God, but when just trusting God becomes a euphemism for doing nothing, there is a problem.
Nathan could have "just trusted God" about David's sin. He didn't. He trusted God and took action. Creative, respectful action, but action. And he saved a nation.
Nehemiah could have "just trusted God" when he heard about the state of Jerusalem. He didn't. He trusted God and spoke to the king. And he rebuilt a city.
The thing is, these people have seen for years. People have seen for years. They've seen what is happening, they've seen what Dick has been saying, and they've "just trusted God" to do something. You see, my husband is so valuable at what he does.... You see, Dick is a leader.... They've seen, so many have seen... and they have left us to suffer because they choose to "just trust God" instead of "trust God" and seek what action He calls them to.
The inaction of people who have seen for years hurts. It is hard to comprehend. Is it the bystander effect - where if some people walk on by a dying person and ignore them, the crowd does too? I don't know. But the effect of silent, inactive bystanders is often as painful to deal with as the problems I face.
Anger in the home.
Blame by the leadership.
Silence among the bystanders.
I feel utterly alone as I stand here. And that hurts on so many levels.
I trust because that is all I have. I turn my eyes up to God and wait. I hang on to Him because at times, He is all I have. The Ancient of Days. The God who sees.
I have a quiet hope. Because some things are being done. I am not confident about the way they are being done with Dick so involved in it all. He has decided that I need a full psych workup to see if I have a disorder since he thinks I do. (In all his training in the subject, cough, cough.) It hurts to have to prove my sanity, prove my right not to be abused. But despite that, I have hope. God told me He would step in and work. Very clearly, last September He told me that. So I wait. Besides, I have no worries about the state of my psychological health! Neither does anyone who knows me. They snort when I say I have to get tested. But get tested I have to do. I'll frame the results and gift wrap them for Dick! :)
But it is degrading. And that hurts.
Yet even with his twisted way of wanting us to get help, there is hope. Because it is bringing us in contact with people who do actually know about people. And it hasn't taken those people long to see the problem. I have complete faith that anyone who actually spends time with me will see who I am. They will see the issues, and they will see. Everyone sees. Everyone except Dick who has never lived near me yet speaks with such authority on who I am.
So I am hopeful. I am trusting God (not "just trusting God"), and I am actively working with those who we are sent to. And after weeks of a hard, angry heart towards all that was going on, I've had three days where my husband is actually talking and thinking. That is good news. There is a long road ahead. There are real reasons why my husband has the struggles he has. Pain gone too long without being healed. He has his own story, and I have compassion for him in the middle of it all. I long for God to reach in and heal his wounds and make whole.
If only we can keep Dick away from him while he begins to heal....
Pray for me - tomorrow I meet with the new counselor alone and have a chance to talk.
Monday, May 27, 2013
You See
Oh God, this hurts so very much. Today my heart is crushed again. I wait and I hope. I wait in stillness for You. Waiting for You to stand up, to defend Your daughter from the tongues, to be my honor. And there is stillness.
I asked again for help. Gathering my courage around me once more, and showing one I thought may help that awful slander from one over me. One who has known and yet chosen to close his eyes. To shoot arrows rather than to address a problem. To blame the wounded rather than correct the one who wounds. To himself cause more wounding than anyone else.
I expected help. And I did not get it. Again. Oh, God, You see. You see what those in authority say and do, and You see how they would rather defend themselves than deal with wrong. How much easier it is to dismiss me as "that woman" and label me. My heart is bruised inside me.
Lord, what they say is pure evil. It has no part with Your Spirit, no part with the light. I wait for You. I wait. My heart grows weary with waiting. My faith hangs on desperately, but faintly. I wait for You. Where are You? Why do You let evil prosper and the weak be wounded? I know their words are not Your words, but the force of them hurts. And even more is the silence of those who know but walk by on the other side.
He is Your child, Lord. He is yours. You have seen all that he has said, all that he has spoken to my husband, telling him that "I don't know how anyone could force themselves to live with that woman". You have seen, Lord. How long will You be silent? I want justice. I want to be worth being defended. I want to hear the Lion's roar, the Father's voice of outrage over the treatment of His child.
And I hear silence.
The silence mocks me. It in itself whispers, "see, no one cares" and "you are not worth it to anyone".
Oh, Lord, where are You? Will you let evil crush me? Will You be silent when Your own demean who I am? When will You stand up?
I want You to crush him like a bug. To open his eyes, to let him see who You think I am. To hear Your voice speaking of me. To make him look in Your eyes and answer for every evil word. I want him gut punched with the truth. That is my hurting heart, my desire for justice, the cry of pain deep within.
Yet You cried out as You suffered, "Father forgive". Ah, Lord, I don't have Your strength, and it is not just a matter of hours, but of years. I grow weary and my strength fails. Be my rock. Be my shelter.
What I so love about You is that You deal with my weaknesses and sins gently. And he is Your child. So my desire that You defend me and crush him like a bug is out of line, it comes from my pain. Strengthen my heart to cry for justice but not revenge. But Lord, You see! How long, oh Lord? Deal with him gently, correct him in love, but correct him please! Don't leave me living in this years more. I haven't the strength.
Father, let me hear Your voice. In the middle of all the voices all saying different things, let me hear Your voice. Let me hear who You say I am. I need that. In the midst of all that is said about me, I need to hear Your voice.
Give me courage. To risk again. To make the right choices. Wisdom to know what is right. Strength to offer forgiveness where it is not even sought yet. To have grace among those who judge without seeking truth.
Lord, these are Your own who are causing pain and scars in my life. Where are You? It is so hard at times to see You, to trust You despite how Your people act. Your own people shoot arrows and defile with words. The people who are Your voice down here. It is bewildering and confusing. I struggle. I feel like a child again, abused by those in authority, confused, not knowing how to act, with no one able to believe, no one ready to help. Different abuse, but the abuse of power, the demeaning of my person, the making me an object, not a human. How do You allow this? When will you step in?
My heart hurts. I struggle to believe, to trust, to hang on to You in the middle of it all. But You are all I have. I cling to You... in pain, with unanswered questions, with deep hurt, with the silence and mockery of Your people in my ears, I cling to You. Even if I grow too weak and my hands grow tired and I let go of trust, You will not let go of me. I rest in that.
But, oh Lord, how long will You be silent? How long will You let evil continue? Will You not defend Your daughter? Be my glory, the lifter of my head. I need you. I need Your voice.
You are the Ancient of Days. The God who sees. The father to the fatherless. The Truth. You are the God who is wrapped in light. You are the defender of the weak. I rest in You. I rest my case in Your hands. My eyes are on You. I wait. Still waiting, I wait and with all the trust I have, I trust.
I asked again for help. Gathering my courage around me once more, and showing one I thought may help that awful slander from one over me. One who has known and yet chosen to close his eyes. To shoot arrows rather than to address a problem. To blame the wounded rather than correct the one who wounds. To himself cause more wounding than anyone else.
I expected help. And I did not get it. Again. Oh, God, You see. You see what those in authority say and do, and You see how they would rather defend themselves than deal with wrong. How much easier it is to dismiss me as "that woman" and label me. My heart is bruised inside me.
Lord, what they say is pure evil. It has no part with Your Spirit, no part with the light. I wait for You. I wait. My heart grows weary with waiting. My faith hangs on desperately, but faintly. I wait for You. Where are You? Why do You let evil prosper and the weak be wounded? I know their words are not Your words, but the force of them hurts. And even more is the silence of those who know but walk by on the other side.
He is Your child, Lord. He is yours. You have seen all that he has said, all that he has spoken to my husband, telling him that "I don't know how anyone could force themselves to live with that woman". You have seen, Lord. How long will You be silent? I want justice. I want to be worth being defended. I want to hear the Lion's roar, the Father's voice of outrage over the treatment of His child.
And I hear silence.
The silence mocks me. It in itself whispers, "see, no one cares" and "you are not worth it to anyone".
Oh, Lord, where are You? Will you let evil crush me? Will You be silent when Your own demean who I am? When will You stand up?
I want You to crush him like a bug. To open his eyes, to let him see who You think I am. To hear Your voice speaking of me. To make him look in Your eyes and answer for every evil word. I want him gut punched with the truth. That is my hurting heart, my desire for justice, the cry of pain deep within.
Yet You cried out as You suffered, "Father forgive". Ah, Lord, I don't have Your strength, and it is not just a matter of hours, but of years. I grow weary and my strength fails. Be my rock. Be my shelter.
What I so love about You is that You deal with my weaknesses and sins gently. And he is Your child. So my desire that You defend me and crush him like a bug is out of line, it comes from my pain. Strengthen my heart to cry for justice but not revenge. But Lord, You see! How long, oh Lord? Deal with him gently, correct him in love, but correct him please! Don't leave me living in this years more. I haven't the strength.
Father, let me hear Your voice. In the middle of all the voices all saying different things, let me hear Your voice. Let me hear who You say I am. I need that. In the midst of all that is said about me, I need to hear Your voice.
Give me courage. To risk again. To make the right choices. Wisdom to know what is right. Strength to offer forgiveness where it is not even sought yet. To have grace among those who judge without seeking truth.
Lord, these are Your own who are causing pain and scars in my life. Where are You? It is so hard at times to see You, to trust You despite how Your people act. Your own people shoot arrows and defile with words. The people who are Your voice down here. It is bewildering and confusing. I struggle. I feel like a child again, abused by those in authority, confused, not knowing how to act, with no one able to believe, no one ready to help. Different abuse, but the abuse of power, the demeaning of my person, the making me an object, not a human. How do You allow this? When will you step in?
My heart hurts. I struggle to believe, to trust, to hang on to You in the middle of it all. But You are all I have. I cling to You... in pain, with unanswered questions, with deep hurt, with the silence and mockery of Your people in my ears, I cling to You. Even if I grow too weak and my hands grow tired and I let go of trust, You will not let go of me. I rest in that.
But, oh Lord, how long will You be silent? How long will You let evil continue? Will You not defend Your daughter? Be my glory, the lifter of my head. I need you. I need Your voice.
You are the Ancient of Days. The God who sees. The father to the fatherless. The Truth. You are the God who is wrapped in light. You are the defender of the weak. I rest in You. I rest my case in Your hands. My eyes are on You. I wait. Still waiting, I wait and with all the trust I have, I trust.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
The Fellowship of the Scarred
It bothers me every time I hear it, and sadly, I still hear it often. It is usually murmured after news stories. Stories like these three women who escaped in Cleveland.
"She'll never be normal after that..."
Ok, public service announcement here: Christians, we need to STOP saying that.
Have we no faith in a life transforming God? Have we no confidence in the healing power of the Holy Spirit? Have we no trust in One who says "Behold I make all things new"? Do we not follow a Savior whose scarred hands settled the doubts of Thomas?
God is perfectly capable of healing wounds. Yes, it takes work. Yes, it is painful. Yes, it takes time. Yes, we may be different after that, bearing the marks of scars on our souls.
"She'll never be normal after that..."
Ok, public service announcement here: Christians, we need to STOP saying that.
Have we no faith in a life transforming God? Have we no confidence in the healing power of the Holy Spirit? Have we no trust in One who says "Behold I make all things new"? Do we not follow a Savior whose scarred hands settled the doubts of Thomas?
God is perfectly capable of healing wounds. Yes, it takes work. Yes, it is painful. Yes, it takes time. Yes, we may be different after that, bearing the marks of scars on our souls.
But there is a vast difference between wounds and scars.
Wounds require attention, care, bandaging, cleaning out. Wounds require action. Scars don't.
Scars are marks of something past. Some scars are hardly noticeable. Others are glaring. But a scar marks something past, something healed. There are different responses to scars. The polite ones range from ignoring them, especially if you are not close to the person. A closer friendship will allow the permission to ask kindly, "May I ask what happened to leave that scar?" It doesn't allow permission to demand, but to ask.
A scar sometimes allows hurting people the chance to ask strangers, "Do you mind if I ask.... my sister just got hurt, and I see you have that scar... can I ask.....?" It is like a silent advertisement that you have gone through pain, which allows those suffering pain the freedom to ask when they need help.
But only a rude and crass person would walk up to a scarred person and laugh, point fingers, or demean the scarred in anyway.
With the statistics in the US being now somewhere between one in every three or one in every four girls having been sexually abused in one way or another, we must stop responding to stories like the wonderful escape of the three captives in Cleveland with the murmured, "poor girls, they will never be normal after that..." Chances are, someone in the room you are in has been abused also, and you will be hurting them. Making them think that who they are is not ok. Shaming them into silence so they can appear "normal". Making them think they are not worth love anymore.
We may be scarred, but we can heal, and we can live, love, and laugh and be whole. God can do that. I know because He has done this with me.
But then there are those who not only whisper, but attack. That is what I have lived in for ten years. Dick has heard about my past. No, he did not whisper the "oh, she will never be normal" about it. No. He went one further. He said to many, "She is damaged from her past, and is not ok." Then, adding insult to injury, he questioned my truth telling and suggested that I was "making up stories because if she had really been abused, she would have told her parents".
I have told my parents. When I was an adult. Like most abuse victims, I did not tell them when I was a five year old child. A basic search of sexual abuse will inform anyone that not only do most abuse victims not tell, but even most adult rape victims will not report it. We are ashamed. Our shame is added to by people who respond like Dick.
But his view is not one I own. I can throw it out too. It is not even one the majority of the church holds anymore. Thankfully, people are speaking up. People are talking about their pasts, about their healing, about their stories. I am thrilled to see this happening. Because if we carry our healed scars and are able to talk about them, we make the subject mentionable. We make it safe. We label ourselves as approachable people. And perhaps by so doing, we can save one other girls from years of silent pain.
Yes, sexual abuse happens. It is awful. It hurts. It causes deep wounds. But, yes, God can heal those wounds. God can mend our hearts. We have not lost our value. We can heal, smile, laugh, love, and even trust again. We, the scarred ones, stand as living testimony to that truth. I would not lose my scars if I could because my scars show others that you can heal from this.
But those same scars will cause some people, like Dick, to speak evil of me, to malign me. He doesn't understand the difference between wounds and scares. He is grossly misinformed, even telling me that he knows nothing of sexual abuse because it just doesn't happen in his community. Hmm, yes...
His words have hurt. They have stung. Scars are sensitive, and to hit them is painful. His words have caused many tears late at night when I am alone. But I know that my tears are precious to God. He stores them in a bottle. He sees the pain caused.
It is wrong. God came to heal. To seek the lost, to bind wounds, to proclaim liberty. We are to follow His lead. We are not to abuse the abused. Sadly, Dick is not alone. There are others, perhaps unknowingly, who do this with their comments. But Dick is one of the worst I have seen.
If he wants to walk around and whisper about my past in an attempt to devalue who I am, let him. I will shout it from the rooftops. I am not ashamed of what evil men have done to me. It is not my shame, it is theirs. I will proclaim what God has done. God has clothed me with dignity. He has been Himself my glory, and He has healed my wounds. I bear scars. I will until I die, I suppose. Jesus bears scars, too. I am in good company now - the fellowship of the scarred. I pray that my scars will bring hope to others with wounds. Healing exists in the living God.
Scars are marks of something past. Some scars are hardly noticeable. Others are glaring. But a scar marks something past, something healed. There are different responses to scars. The polite ones range from ignoring them, especially if you are not close to the person. A closer friendship will allow the permission to ask kindly, "May I ask what happened to leave that scar?" It doesn't allow permission to demand, but to ask.
A scar sometimes allows hurting people the chance to ask strangers, "Do you mind if I ask.... my sister just got hurt, and I see you have that scar... can I ask.....?" It is like a silent advertisement that you have gone through pain, which allows those suffering pain the freedom to ask when they need help.
But only a rude and crass person would walk up to a scarred person and laugh, point fingers, or demean the scarred in anyway.
With the statistics in the US being now somewhere between one in every three or one in every four girls having been sexually abused in one way or another, we must stop responding to stories like the wonderful escape of the three captives in Cleveland with the murmured, "poor girls, they will never be normal after that..." Chances are, someone in the room you are in has been abused also, and you will be hurting them. Making them think that who they are is not ok. Shaming them into silence so they can appear "normal". Making them think they are not worth love anymore.
We may be scarred, but we can heal, and we can live, love, and laugh and be whole. God can do that. I know because He has done this with me.
But then there are those who not only whisper, but attack. That is what I have lived in for ten years. Dick has heard about my past. No, he did not whisper the "oh, she will never be normal" about it. No. He went one further. He said to many, "She is damaged from her past, and is not ok." Then, adding insult to injury, he questioned my truth telling and suggested that I was "making up stories because if she had really been abused, she would have told her parents".
I have told my parents. When I was an adult. Like most abuse victims, I did not tell them when I was a five year old child. A basic search of sexual abuse will inform anyone that not only do most abuse victims not tell, but even most adult rape victims will not report it. We are ashamed. Our shame is added to by people who respond like Dick.
But his view is not one I own. I can throw it out too. It is not even one the majority of the church holds anymore. Thankfully, people are speaking up. People are talking about their pasts, about their healing, about their stories. I am thrilled to see this happening. Because if we carry our healed scars and are able to talk about them, we make the subject mentionable. We make it safe. We label ourselves as approachable people. And perhaps by so doing, we can save one other girls from years of silent pain.
Yes, sexual abuse happens. It is awful. It hurts. It causes deep wounds. But, yes, God can heal those wounds. God can mend our hearts. We have not lost our value. We can heal, smile, laugh, love, and even trust again. We, the scarred ones, stand as living testimony to that truth. I would not lose my scars if I could because my scars show others that you can heal from this.
But those same scars will cause some people, like Dick, to speak evil of me, to malign me. He doesn't understand the difference between wounds and scares. He is grossly misinformed, even telling me that he knows nothing of sexual abuse because it just doesn't happen in his community. Hmm, yes...
His words have hurt. They have stung. Scars are sensitive, and to hit them is painful. His words have caused many tears late at night when I am alone. But I know that my tears are precious to God. He stores them in a bottle. He sees the pain caused.
It is wrong. God came to heal. To seek the lost, to bind wounds, to proclaim liberty. We are to follow His lead. We are not to abuse the abused. Sadly, Dick is not alone. There are others, perhaps unknowingly, who do this with their comments. But Dick is one of the worst I have seen.
If he wants to walk around and whisper about my past in an attempt to devalue who I am, let him. I will shout it from the rooftops. I am not ashamed of what evil men have done to me. It is not my shame, it is theirs. I will proclaim what God has done. God has clothed me with dignity. He has been Himself my glory, and He has healed my wounds. I bear scars. I will until I die, I suppose. Jesus bears scars, too. I am in good company now - the fellowship of the scarred. I pray that my scars will bring hope to others with wounds. Healing exists in the living God.
Friday, May 17, 2013
Throwing Off Words
I am going to tell a story. It is a story that will be hard to believe, but sadly it is true, and there is more that could be written than I will. Trust me, if I was to write out the completeness of what has been said about me, well, like Roald Dahl author of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and other great books would say, "It would gobsmack you, curdle your toes, and turn your hair white".
It is a story of abuse. Abuse of leadership. It is more than sheer incompetence. It is deliberate blindness and bias. And I suffered it for years.
Today, I began smiling. I'm actually pretty happy. Something hit me today, and has me smiling.
I've had this leader over us. A good friend of my husband. The one my husband confides in. And the one who had oversight of us until recently. You know him as Dick - a random name, appropriate for this setting.
Dick has been telling my husband for years that I am not normal. He even says that my whole family is weird. (My family that has served him with grace for years. Still does, even knowing what he says about us.) Dick has taken what has been said about me in anger, and believed everything without ever coming to me and saying, "Is this or that true?". Then he has added to that, and gone to other people above me who might help me and written them letters detailing how he thinks I have a psychological problem, might be a pathological liar, and am so irritating to live with that no wonder my husband blows up. He even stated, "I don't know of anyone else in the world who could continue to live with her the way he has. and finally, when a person is being tortured again and again, he only responds like the way a cat would. He lashes back, it's not right, but I can see how it happens."
Really! Wow, really makes you wonder why he hasn't been successful in helping my husband with his anger. Kind of hard to do when you tell him, "Don't get angry, but wow, I sure see why you do!"
But I am happier than I have been for a long time. Why? Because I am dumping what Dick said. No longer putting my head down and thinking, "this is what all Christians will think of me, too, if I ask for help". Instead I am thinking, "This is what one, way off base, blinded by bias, incompetent person said of me." There is a world of difference in those two.
Actually what Dick has done borders on spiritual abuse. And it is not me. It is not who I am. I may have to jump through some hoops to prove that and make whispers cease, but it is not me. I don't have to be ashamed of his words. The shame for his words lies with him, and he will have to carry it, not me. It will come out as part of the healing/counseling process when we are working with the right counselor, and I will dump his words, his opinions, and his harsh judgements away.
He will one day cover his face in shame from them. I do not need to. It is not my shame that one man thinks and has said awful things about me. It is abuse, and it is his shame. Very similar to other people who abuse - that is their shame, and not mine. I will not carry it. I will not be silent about it. I will not hide my face and think less of myself because of it. It is their shame, their wrong, their weight to carry. When I spoke up about abuse, instead of condemnation, I got affirmed, valued, loved. It is the same with these words, too. I do not need to carry them. I can speak. I can hold my head up. The words do not reflect on who I am; they reflect on who he is.
There is freedom in that, and today I am happy. Learning that freedom.
It is a story of abuse. Abuse of leadership. It is more than sheer incompetence. It is deliberate blindness and bias. And I suffered it for years.
Today, I began smiling. I'm actually pretty happy. Something hit me today, and has me smiling.
I've had this leader over us. A good friend of my husband. The one my husband confides in. And the one who had oversight of us until recently. You know him as Dick - a random name, appropriate for this setting.
Dick has been telling my husband for years that I am not normal. He even says that my whole family is weird. (My family that has served him with grace for years. Still does, even knowing what he says about us.) Dick has taken what has been said about me in anger, and believed everything without ever coming to me and saying, "Is this or that true?". Then he has added to that, and gone to other people above me who might help me and written them letters detailing how he thinks I have a psychological problem, might be a pathological liar, and am so irritating to live with that no wonder my husband blows up. He even stated, "I don't know of anyone else in the world who could continue to live with her the way he has. and finally, when a person is being tortured again and again, he only responds like the way a cat would. He lashes back, it's not right, but I can see how it happens."
Really! Wow, really makes you wonder why he hasn't been successful in helping my husband with his anger. Kind of hard to do when you tell him, "Don't get angry, but wow, I sure see why you do!"
But I am happier than I have been for a long time. Why? Because I am dumping what Dick said. No longer putting my head down and thinking, "this is what all Christians will think of me, too, if I ask for help". Instead I am thinking, "This is what one, way off base, blinded by bias, incompetent person said of me." There is a world of difference in those two.
Actually what Dick has done borders on spiritual abuse. And it is not me. It is not who I am. I may have to jump through some hoops to prove that and make whispers cease, but it is not me. I don't have to be ashamed of his words. The shame for his words lies with him, and he will have to carry it, not me. It will come out as part of the healing/counseling process when we are working with the right counselor, and I will dump his words, his opinions, and his harsh judgements away.
He will one day cover his face in shame from them. I do not need to. It is not my shame that one man thinks and has said awful things about me. It is abuse, and it is his shame. Very similar to other people who abuse - that is their shame, and not mine. I will not carry it. I will not be silent about it. I will not hide my face and think less of myself because of it. It is their shame, their wrong, their weight to carry. When I spoke up about abuse, instead of condemnation, I got affirmed, valued, loved. It is the same with these words, too. I do not need to carry them. I can speak. I can hold my head up. The words do not reflect on who I am; they reflect on who he is.
There is freedom in that, and today I am happy. Learning that freedom.
(Just to let you know, Dick has not one iota of training that would allow him to make the statements he has made.)
Thursday, May 16, 2013
The Wrong Thing to Tell a Nurse
Sometimes I have to work very hard to keep my straight face on. At times, I am harshly criticized for my failures at this. But sometimes people just don't know, and they say things that... well, I struggle not to smile.
In our meeting a few weeks ago with these four who gathered to read us a letter, there was a time when we raised a question. One of the four answered that we will just do as we are told and ask no questions because these people will know better than us. "It is like", he said, "being sick, and when you are sick and you go to the hospital, you just do what the doctor says, and you don't ask questions."
I was all I could do to keep a straight face. That was most definitely the wrong thing to tell a nurse!!!
I am here today BECAUSE people asked doctors questions. Three time my life almost ended or ended in serious harm because of doctors (or once a nurse's) actions, and it is only because people dared to say no and ask questions that I am alive.
When I was a baby, a pharmacy dispensed the wrong medicine. My dad gave me one dose, and could not wake me for the next dose. He phoned the doctor who annoyedly told him to just pour it in my mouth anyway. My dad refused, and instead took me to the hospital. I was in a coma and stayed that way for several days. One more dose would have killed me.
Later, when I was very sick with a long-term condition I have, there was no choice but a certain medicine. I had one dose and it made me too dizzy to walk, and I felt horrible. I had the next dose, and I couldn't lift my head up more than 30 degrees off the bed without blacking out. My mom phoned in from overseas and called up a nurse friend of hers who almost shrieked, "No! They should not use that medicine on her!! It has awful side effects that can be deadly. There is a safer drug." She phoned my doctor herself and questioned him. The drug was changed, and I lived. I still live today healthy and happy on that new one.
Another time, overseas, flat on my back in a foreign hospital half unconscious, I was aware of nurses starting hanging IV drugs in my line. I groggily asked what it was, and the nurse said, "I don't know. The doctor said you have to have it." At the same instance, I felt something that could only be explained as liquid fire in my arm, and told my husband, "shut it off, now!" Thankfully, my husband did. To this day, I do not know what that drug was as no one could ever come up with an explanation, and it took me days to be strong enough to question and be alert. But thankfully, my husband shut it off, and the drug only made it two feet down my vein. That whole arm swelled to the size of a watermelon, the skin went red, and began to peel. Whatever it was, I was intensely allergic to it, and it could have killed me if I hadn't known to react immediately despite doctor's orders.
Yes, that comment of "well, we don't question the doctors" was not the right thing to say to a nurse!!
In fact, all it told me was that they were using blind, unquestioning judgement, so it became even more imperative that we fully research and check out anything suggested to us.
That's ok, because when the meeting was over, one of the men looked at two other of the men and said, "Ok, we need to go back to the office and have a threesome." I excused myself quickly to the bathroom where I could bury my face in a towel and silently shake from laughter. (And yes, English is his mother tongue, but knowing the meaning of words must not be his strong point!)
In our meeting a few weeks ago with these four who gathered to read us a letter, there was a time when we raised a question. One of the four answered that we will just do as we are told and ask no questions because these people will know better than us. "It is like", he said, "being sick, and when you are sick and you go to the hospital, you just do what the doctor says, and you don't ask questions."
I was all I could do to keep a straight face. That was most definitely the wrong thing to tell a nurse!!!
I am here today BECAUSE people asked doctors questions. Three time my life almost ended or ended in serious harm because of doctors (or once a nurse's) actions, and it is only because people dared to say no and ask questions that I am alive.
When I was a baby, a pharmacy dispensed the wrong medicine. My dad gave me one dose, and could not wake me for the next dose. He phoned the doctor who annoyedly told him to just pour it in my mouth anyway. My dad refused, and instead took me to the hospital. I was in a coma and stayed that way for several days. One more dose would have killed me.
Later, when I was very sick with a long-term condition I have, there was no choice but a certain medicine. I had one dose and it made me too dizzy to walk, and I felt horrible. I had the next dose, and I couldn't lift my head up more than 30 degrees off the bed without blacking out. My mom phoned in from overseas and called up a nurse friend of hers who almost shrieked, "No! They should not use that medicine on her!! It has awful side effects that can be deadly. There is a safer drug." She phoned my doctor herself and questioned him. The drug was changed, and I lived. I still live today healthy and happy on that new one.
Another time, overseas, flat on my back in a foreign hospital half unconscious, I was aware of nurses starting hanging IV drugs in my line. I groggily asked what it was, and the nurse said, "I don't know. The doctor said you have to have it." At the same instance, I felt something that could only be explained as liquid fire in my arm, and told my husband, "shut it off, now!" Thankfully, my husband did. To this day, I do not know what that drug was as no one could ever come up with an explanation, and it took me days to be strong enough to question and be alert. But thankfully, my husband shut it off, and the drug only made it two feet down my vein. That whole arm swelled to the size of a watermelon, the skin went red, and began to peel. Whatever it was, I was intensely allergic to it, and it could have killed me if I hadn't known to react immediately despite doctor's orders.
Yes, that comment of "well, we don't question the doctors" was not the right thing to say to a nurse!!
In fact, all it told me was that they were using blind, unquestioning judgement, so it became even more imperative that we fully research and check out anything suggested to us.
That's ok, because when the meeting was over, one of the men looked at two other of the men and said, "Ok, we need to go back to the office and have a threesome." I excused myself quickly to the bathroom where I could bury my face in a towel and silently shake from laughter. (And yes, English is his mother tongue, but knowing the meaning of words must not be his strong point!)
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Waiting for Hope
It is hard to write right now. Hard to capture my thoughts on paper. Hard to make sense of what I am living in. I don't understand or even have a clue of what is happening. I am standing by... this morning as I drove home from dealing with some paperwork, I thought, "This year, the 2012/2013 school year, has been one of being on permanent wait." A constant holding my breath for something to happen.
I don't know what will yet.
It has been a year of change, and it will bring change. That we know, but I do not have a clue what that change will be.
Things will happen, and people will put our lives into the hands of other people. At first, they tried to send us for counseling to a non-Christian place that practices Hinduistic beliefs. I shook my head and wondered... it is a sad day indeed when light goes to darkness for help. But I was cornered with people saying that if I didn't do what they said, then I was unwilling to get help.
I am willing to get help. But when you want help for a spiritual problem, I've learned, be careful what spiritual powers you call on for help! I wanted help to be done under the control and influence and wisdom of the Holy Spirit.
Strangely, no one saw a problem with what they were planning. I prayed. I prayed! And I carefully tried objecting. The problem, I think, is that no one researched very well. They looked at a few opening pages of this place, but they did not read the articles and newsletters they put out. If they had, I hope they would have been as concerned as I was. I hope.
I learned today that that is off the table. Only because I questioned it, but it is. Thank God!
Even our pastor said, "well, you are people of discernment, so we can trust that you would discern what was right and wrong there." In a way, he is right. I could discern what was wrong. But when you are wounded and hurting... you are vulnerable. At that time, you want to be cared for by people who are in the Spirit. Who can see you as beings complete with physical, emotional, and spiritual sides.
We had a person come recently to listen to us. That was a blessing. The previous meeting with four people was very different. No one listened one bit. No one said, "what do you feel you need?" They just sat and read a letter and told us what to do. It was strange. Even half threatened us if we didn't agree with them. Attacked when we had questions about the process. It was so different than I expected....
But, after I raised questions about the place they were considering, they sent someone to listen. He did, and I think he got an extremely clear picture of what we were facing. Very clear.
So now we wait again.
And in the wait, God is giving time for a whole other army of prayer warriors to be called in. People who know what they are facing. And in the middle of this crisis, I've become strong enough to say "I won't be silent anymore." So I am talking. And what I have kept hidden out of shame and out of fear and intimidation, I am bringing into the light. I am speaking up and able to ask that the right people be put in charge, and the wrong people be removed. I am learning that I can have a voice - even in the face of powerful people banded together. I am reaching out, building connections, speaking up, and finding strength.
I'm not sure about hope yet. At times I hold it, and at times, I lose it. Yet an important things happened on Saturday with this man here. The basic problem was laid bare, clearly out in the light. There was no agreement to work on it, but the problem was brought into the light. I believe in the power of light.
Sadly, my husband has been improperly mentored for years. By a man who has told him that he does not know how anyone could live with me, and that no wonder he gets angry (don't, you know, but man! I see see why you do!) This from a man who has never lived any closer than 500 kms, and who has never stayed with me for more than a week. The saddest thing about that is that it has only helped my husband walk further away from God rather than encourage him to deal with things in his life - we all have things in our lives - and bring him closer to God. Now we reap the fruit of wrong mentoring, and I am afraid it will take longer and be harder than if he had been given godly advice.
But God is able, and I hang on to Him. It took me awhile to "right" again, like a bouy tossed at sea, but I am stabilizing. I lost friends and support, but I reached out for more. Life in isolation is not healthy, nor does it contribute to growth. I reached out, close by, and back in time - to people who know me, who love me, and who pray. And in their love, in their encouragement, in their strength, and in their validating words, I am stabilizing again, finding my faith, holding on to the God who never let go of me.
I still don't know what tomorrow holds. I pray desperately for my husband who has a choice ahead of him. Pray for the light to shine, for grace to overcome fear, for love to win against pain. I have questions for God, but no doubt about Him. Pain, but trust. At times, a very weak trust - like a weak, thready pulse in a seriously wounded person, but still a trust. I wait for hope.
I don't know what will yet.
It has been a year of change, and it will bring change. That we know, but I do not have a clue what that change will be.
Things will happen, and people will put our lives into the hands of other people. At first, they tried to send us for counseling to a non-Christian place that practices Hinduistic beliefs. I shook my head and wondered... it is a sad day indeed when light goes to darkness for help. But I was cornered with people saying that if I didn't do what they said, then I was unwilling to get help.
I am willing to get help. But when you want help for a spiritual problem, I've learned, be careful what spiritual powers you call on for help! I wanted help to be done under the control and influence and wisdom of the Holy Spirit.
Strangely, no one saw a problem with what they were planning. I prayed. I prayed! And I carefully tried objecting. The problem, I think, is that no one researched very well. They looked at a few opening pages of this place, but they did not read the articles and newsletters they put out. If they had, I hope they would have been as concerned as I was. I hope.
I learned today that that is off the table. Only because I questioned it, but it is. Thank God!
Even our pastor said, "well, you are people of discernment, so we can trust that you would discern what was right and wrong there." In a way, he is right. I could discern what was wrong. But when you are wounded and hurting... you are vulnerable. At that time, you want to be cared for by people who are in the Spirit. Who can see you as beings complete with physical, emotional, and spiritual sides.
We had a person come recently to listen to us. That was a blessing. The previous meeting with four people was very different. No one listened one bit. No one said, "what do you feel you need?" They just sat and read a letter and told us what to do. It was strange. Even half threatened us if we didn't agree with them. Attacked when we had questions about the process. It was so different than I expected....
But, after I raised questions about the place they were considering, they sent someone to listen. He did, and I think he got an extremely clear picture of what we were facing. Very clear.
So now we wait again.
And in the wait, God is giving time for a whole other army of prayer warriors to be called in. People who know what they are facing. And in the middle of this crisis, I've become strong enough to say "I won't be silent anymore." So I am talking. And what I have kept hidden out of shame and out of fear and intimidation, I am bringing into the light. I am speaking up and able to ask that the right people be put in charge, and the wrong people be removed. I am learning that I can have a voice - even in the face of powerful people banded together. I am reaching out, building connections, speaking up, and finding strength.
I'm not sure about hope yet. At times I hold it, and at times, I lose it. Yet an important things happened on Saturday with this man here. The basic problem was laid bare, clearly out in the light. There was no agreement to work on it, but the problem was brought into the light. I believe in the power of light.
Sadly, my husband has been improperly mentored for years. By a man who has told him that he does not know how anyone could live with me, and that no wonder he gets angry (don't, you know, but man! I see see why you do!) This from a man who has never lived any closer than 500 kms, and who has never stayed with me for more than a week. The saddest thing about that is that it has only helped my husband walk further away from God rather than encourage him to deal with things in his life - we all have things in our lives - and bring him closer to God. Now we reap the fruit of wrong mentoring, and I am afraid it will take longer and be harder than if he had been given godly advice.
But God is able, and I hang on to Him. It took me awhile to "right" again, like a bouy tossed at sea, but I am stabilizing. I lost friends and support, but I reached out for more. Life in isolation is not healthy, nor does it contribute to growth. I reached out, close by, and back in time - to people who know me, who love me, and who pray. And in their love, in their encouragement, in their strength, and in their validating words, I am stabilizing again, finding my faith, holding on to the God who never let go of me.
I still don't know what tomorrow holds. I pray desperately for my husband who has a choice ahead of him. Pray for the light to shine, for grace to overcome fear, for love to win against pain. I have questions for God, but no doubt about Him. Pain, but trust. At times, a very weak trust - like a weak, thready pulse in a seriously wounded person, but still a trust. I wait for hope.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
About That Password Protect....
You can also just leave a comment along with a way to write back to you, and I will send it to you.
Back Online Again
Hi there! Sorry, I had to take my blog off the air for a time.
I'm back online now. I'm working with a new system. There are posts that have a "show encrypted text" section in them. If you click on that link, it asks for a password, and the rest of the post will open up.
So if you would like to read that section, just shoot me off an e-mail and ask me for the password. And then let me know how it works, too.
Thanks. I'll post again soon, but for now, this took a great deal of time to work on this.
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