Diary of An Abused Woman Part 3

The diary entry that follows is purely fictional. None of the situations expressed are linked to actual persons living or dead. Although some things may resemble actual events, the intent is not to relay a true diary but a fictional character that can express many different stories of women who have been abused. The intent is merely to bring awareness from the inside out since we mostly see abused women from the outside looking in.

Trigger warning – The content below contains wording which may be triggering to domestic abuse survivors.

DVAM-with-Purple-Ribbon

Diary Thursday October 22, 2015

I can’t do this anymore. Why couldn’t I just stay with that sweet woman who was so kind to me? I just didn’t feel like I belonged there. She was so good to me. It is so cold and rainy tonight but I am thankful for the church shelter. The cot is uncomfortable but it’s better than sleeping in the rain on the cold ground. My thoughts are all over the place tonight. I keep thinking about that woman, she really wanted to help me. She gave me a brand new outfit and I had the best shower at her house. Her guest room was so beautiful and she was willing to let me stay as long as I wanted but I didn’t want to be a blemish in her beautiful home. I don’t deserve such kindness, I don’t deserve to have anyone care about me. She understood me though, she had her own story but I couldn’t grasp the idea that she had really been through what I have been through. She was too happy. She just oozed with an inexplicable joy. I can’t relate to that.

Are you kidding me? These people in here are ridiculous. Don’t people understand rules? Two people just got escorted out by the police because they started fighting. I hate to see people fight, it brings back so many awful memories. I’m not going to be able to sleep now. I just want my life back. I just want to be able to function without going back to those memories. Will they haunt me forever? I can’t even see to write anymore because the tears won’t stop. I can’t stand it that every little thing triggers the pain and memories. Oh God if you can hear me, would you please help me sleep tonight?

Diary Tuesday October 27, 2015

I am so discouraged today. I feel like my life is going down the toilet. God seems very distant and I feel like I have been dropped into a ditch somewhere and left to rot. Who am I to think that I should get special treatment from anyone or think that anyone should care or want to sympathize with the fact that I am struggling today, I am at the end of my proverbial rope and I cannot see any hands reaching out to help me. I don’t know what to do, what to think, what to feel, how to respond. I just know that I am a walking zombie right now. I am going through the motions of life only because I am familiar with the day-to-day schedule. Everything I do is only achieved because I have been doing it for so long that it is a habit. I wake up, I survive, I cry, I sleep and I wake up to do it all over again.

I have prayed but probably not enough. I’m just not getting to the place where I can let go and just be. My mind is constantly moving and I’m always thinking and going over things in my mind. The abuse I sustained, the abuse my daughter sustained, my daughter’s death, the verbal abuse all around, other people, the whole scenario. I am nowhere near being stable in my emotions and I am horribly aware of that to the point where I am terrorized in my dreams even. I have no friends to share my pain with and I have no one who would even care to listen to me at that.

I don’t know. I just feel like my guts have been ripped out of my body and strewn all over the place and I can’t put it all back together. I feel hopeless and miserable. Hello! Can someone hear me? Can anyone hear my pain? Can anyone help me? I doubt it sincerely. The only hope I used to have was God. He is so distant right now. Or at least that’s how I feel. But it could be my fault too because maybe I’m not listening for Him as closely as I should and maybe I can’t be still long enough to know that He even exists. Maybe this is a time in my life where I just have to learn to be lonely.

Diary Thursday October 29, 2015

My mind just races with all these thoughts and I can’t make them stop. Maybe that is why I can’t hear the voice of God when He speaks. But how do I stop the voice in my head. I mean it’s me, it’s my thoughts, it’s my concerns, it’s my pain, my memories, my logic trying to make sense of it all. It’s me and how do I stop me? How can I flip the switch on my thought processes to make them work differently. I can be talking about one thing and thinking about a totally different thing. It’s ridiculous. Then of course when I talk about anything in my life, here comes the flood of tears. Who wants to hear me talk? Who cares that I cry all the time? No one cares. I used to have friends, not many but a few that I could actually call friends but they have all disappeared. Why is everyone so afraid to ask me what is wrong? Why is it that I can ask someone about their problems but no one can ask me?  No one wants to really ask me, How are you? and actually expects a truthful answer.

I can’t take this anymore. This life of running to and from shelters while battling these tormenting thoughts in my head. All these people around me have their own stories. They all have their pain, their bruises, their wounds and yet no one really cares about any of us. Just give us a cot and some slop to eat and maybe a warm blanket. Why did I leave from the one place where I felt safe if only for just one night? Why couldn’t I receive the love that she was so desperately trying to show me? Why can’t I hear God anymore? I used to be so close to God, once upon a time. I cannot even raise my eyes to look up to see if God is waiting for me to come back to Him. No, no, no I am not worth His time. I am not worth anyone’s time. The one good thing about me being suicidal is that my fear of death outweighs my wish to die.

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Diary of An Abused Woman Part 2

The diary entry that follows is purely fictional. None of the situations expressed are linked to actual persons living or dead. Although some things may resemble actual events, the intent is not to relay a true diary but a fictional character that can express many different stories of women who have been abused. The intent is merely to bring awareness from the inside out since we mostly see abused women from the outside looking in.

Trigger warning – The content below contains wording which may be triggering to domestic abuse survivors.

DVAM-with-Purple-Ribbon

Diary Sunday October 18, 2015

Today was a good day. I was walking along the road this morning when I met a woman who invited me to come to her church. She said they would be serving lunch after the service and I was welcome to come. She offered me a ride to the church and while I was nervous about taking the ride, something in her eyes told me that I could trust her.

Trust. A concept that I didn’t think I would be able to have for anyone again. I sat through the service with tears streaming down my face as they sang beautiful songs of praise to God. The sermon was about the good Samaritan. Was that a coincidence since this woman was surely a good Samaritan to me today? With tears streaming down my face I drifted off into a memory of when my husband and I were first dating. We would go to church whenever the doors were open. He proclaimed his love for Jesus and we talked of becoming missionaries one day. It was a dream that I shared.

There was a beautiful woman dancing during the praise and worship time, she had a beautiful flowing dress that followed her twirls delightfully. She danced with a long multicolored scarf that flowed up in the air and back down to the sounds of the worship music. I wanted to be her. I loved to dance and yet I have not danced in many years. How could I dance when my precious ballerina was no longer on this earth? How could I dance when my life no longer had meaning? I felt an overwhelming desire to run in that moment as the memories came flooding into my mind shutting out everything around me. I looked over at the woman who brought me to church and she smiled at me. Her smile was so warm and inviting. Somehow she eased my anxiety and I was able to stay for the entire service.

Lunch was amazing. There was so much food and desserts to choose from I could not believe my eyes. Breakfast casseroles, tacos, barbecue beef, chili, homemade bread, hamburgers, hot dogs, chicken and dumplings, fried chicken, every kind of fruit you could imagine, cakes, cookies, pies and my favorite homemade bread pudding. I filled my plate with just a little bit of everything I could fit on it since this was the best meal I have had in a long time. So many people came up and introduced themselves and seemed interested in knowing me. I still can’t make sense of it all. Why would they want to know me? I’m sure I look like an old dirty rag and probably smell like one too. Every person who spoke to me seemed to look beyond my shabby looks and I felt like they all were looking deep into my soul. It made me nervous and I would begin to shake. My new friend would put her hand on my shoulder and silently pray for me. It was if she knew the rage that was going on inside my head. The swirling thoughts of unworthiness to be at this table with beautiful, happy people. It was truly overwhelming.

A sudden crash caused me to lunge underneath the table, my heart was beating wildly and I thought I was being attacked. I could do nothing but sit under that table and rock myself holding my knees close to my chest. No it can’t be happening again. No, please make it stop. I could hear voices around me praying to God to help me. I heard one say it’s ok, it’s ok, it was just a punch bowl that crashed to the floor and shattered. I had tears streaming down my face as the memories of being taunted and beaten with a baseball bat flooded my mind and would not stop. I could hear myself crying out “please stop, please stop”. As the prayers continued around the table, I looked up and my new friend was on her knees in front of me praying and crying. I began to fix my eyes on her and slowly the anxiety and panic began to subside. I didn’t even realize that she was holding my hands. Suddenly the realization of what was happening overwhelmed me and shame entered into my consciousness. How could I ever come back to this place? How embarrassing?

I was helped up off the floor by my new friend. I expected people to look at me like something was wrong with me or call the police or kick me out of this place but they didn’t. An older woman across the table asked me if I had been abused. I hung my head low and said yes. She came over and put her arms around me and began to share her own story of abuse. What? Wait, where am I? I am sitting in a church. People don’t talk about abuse in church. It was why I left the church years ago. I listened to her story in astonishment. She understood me. She could relate to my terror and agony. I couldn’t believe it. Every day people pass me by and act as though I am invisible and yet two women made me feel like a human being today. I am not sure I know how to process this in my mind. It’s new to me.

The older woman invited me to come and stay with her family for the night. The softness in her voice made me feel that I could go with her. I felt like I made two friends today. Friends. All my friends had abandoned me long ago. They couldn’t relate to my struggle. They couldn’t understand my never-ending sorrow and pain. I’m not sure if this is all a dream but I hope that if it is I don’t wake up from it. I am sitting in a beautiful guest room in my new friend’s home. The bed is so inviting and I must rest. I have not slept in an actual bed for weeks. I have a strange feeling of safety here. I hope this day never ends.

Diary of An Abused Woman

It is now the middle of October and I have been neglecting to write and bring awareness to Domestic Violence Awareness Month. As I thought about what to write tonight, I thought about the many stories I have heard over the years. I have always been one to keep a diary, a journal and random notes everywhere. I write on paper, electronic notes, napkins, emails, blogs, letters, etc. The idea to write from the perspective of an abused woman actually started from a journal entry regarding a woman I met several months ago. It’s a little different style of writing than I typically write here because I am usually telling my own story but today I just want to let my imagination run wild and see where it takes me.

The diary entry that follows is purely fictional. None of the situations expressed are linked to actual persons living or dead. Although some things may resemble actual events, the intent is not to relay a true diary but a fictional character that can express many different stories of women who have been abused. The intent is merely to bring awareness from the inside out since we mostly see abused women from the outside looking in.

Trigger warning – The content below contains wording which may be triggering to domestic abuse survivors.

DVAM-with-Purple-Ribbon

Diary – Thursday October 15

Today I walked many miles asking for change whenever I saw a friendly face. Most of the people who walk by don’t even look at me. I am invisible. Don’t they see my pain, don’t they see that I too am a human being with hopes and dreams. Well my dreams died long ago. I have no family, I have nothing. No one will hire me for a job because I cannot stop shaking and crying when I see beautiful women pass me by with children at their side. It’s been eight years since I saw my precious daughter. She was so beautiful. I knew that she was going to be a ballerina one day. She loved to dance and she would just twirl and twirl and say mommy look at me. I can’t believe she’s gone. She would be 18 now and I know she would have had lots of boyfriend beating the door down to try to date her. Her soft blond hair would drape so beautifully around her face.

No more memories! No, no, no! I cannot take the pain, Lord. Why oh why did she have to die Lord? Why couldn’t it have been me. It was supposed to be me. She just got in the way. She wanted to protect me but her tiny body was just no match for her daddy’s strength. He didn’t even see her. It was me he was going after. Oh how can I bear to live with this guilt. When will it end? Why am I here? Why can’t I just go to sleep and never wake up again.

I remember when I was young, I had so many dreams for my life. I wanted to be an actress, a singer, a dancer. Secretly my greatest ambition was to win a Tony award. I could visualize myself dancing across the stage singing loudly in a re-production of The Sound of Music. I would get lost in my dreams sometimes and my father would tell me that I daydreamed too much. I just knew one day I would make it. I would make him proud of me.

The weather is changing and soon I will be able to sleep in the shelter. I can’t wait until they open up. It’s so hard to walk the streets and sleep on benches. I hardly get any sleep anyway because no sooner than I fall asleep some officer will come and tell me to “move it along lady, you can’t be here.” Don’t they know that I am human and I need sleep too. I’m sorry, Mr. Officer that I don’t have a home to live in anymore. I’m sorry that my family disowned me and cut me off from their lives because I was such a shame to them. How was I supposed to know that I had fallen in love with a narcissistic sociopath? It wasn’t like he had a sign on his forehead.

It wasn’t always bad. It was actually so romantic at first. Oh how I remember our very first dates. He always brought me flowers and chocolate. He knew how to win over my heart. We would talk for hours and hours on the phone and never wanted to hang up. He would walk along the beach holding hands by the moonlight. He told me everything I could ever want to hear from a man. He raved about my eyes, he said they were the most gorgeous green eyes he had ever seen. He said he could see right into my soul and it was beautiful to him. I would just blush and giggle. I should have seen the signs. I should have known it was more than just jealousy and concern for me when he began to cut me off from my friends and family. It was such a smooth process, He was so smooth. No one could ever imagine that he was a raging monster underneath his smooth, corporate executive exterior.

He took everything from me. He shattered my dreams into a million pieces after the wedding. He would not have his wife work outside of the home. He was the breadwinner and I would need to stay home and care for the children. He wanted six children. I only wanted two. I had no idea how hard it would be just to have one. He always blamed me and accused me of taking birth control behind his back. Didn’t he know I longed to have children too. It was always my fault when things didn’t work out the way he wanted.

I can’t think anymore, I can’t continue to remember all these things. How many times will I try to make sense of it all? How many times will I go over the events of the last 26 years? Does it even matter? Now I have a headache and I can’t even find a place to lay my head for the night. Perhaps I will walk to the emergency room tonight. They can’t turn me away if I tell them I have a severe headache and chest pains. Yes, that’s exactly what I will do. Gosh even if they don’t keep me in the hospital I can get a little sleep waiting to be seen. I can get warmed up enough to gather energy to make it through another day.

To be continued……

Where Does The Time Go? 1st Year Anniversary and a Contest

celebrateCan you believe it? I started this blog on October 1, 2014 and it is now over 1 year old by a of couple days! I cannot believe it! Where does the time go?

I have been so blessed by YOU. Know that I am here for YOU! When I write my blogs I am thinking and praying for you and asking the Lord to give me the topics that are relevant to you. I hope and pray that I have accomplished this.

I would love to get your input so to celebrate the past year I think it is time for a contest and giveaway! In order to gain an entry into this giveaway all you need to do is leave a comment and let me know what topic you would like to see here. That’s all there is to it!

Each comment will receive 1 entry per day. You may enter once per day as many days as you have a topic to share.through October 31, 2015.

I will hold the drawing at 8pm CST on October 31st and the winner will receive a $25.00 Amazon Gift Card via email. Remember, your comment or comments will only award you 1 entry per day. I want to make this fair for everyone. You may comment every day as long as you share a topic that you want to see here on this blog. I look forward to hearing from YOU! God bless you!

Official start time Midnight October 3, 2015. Drawing to be held on October 31, 2015 at 6PM. No purchase necessary.

contest btmc

FEAR NOT

  
For I, the Lord your God, will hold your right hand, Saying to you, ‘Fear not, I will help you.’ (Isaiah 41:13 NKJV)

One verse, that’s all it takes when Holy Spirit wants to get your attention. Read these words today…slowly…”For I, the Lord your God, will hold your right hand, Saying to you, ‘Fear not, I will help you.’” What are you facing today? Raise your right hand to The Lord your God! Let’s read that again because you don’t get it yet…”For I, the Lord your God, will hold your right hand, Saying to you, ‘Fear not, I will help you.’”

Now close your eyes and picture it. You are a little child and you are afraid. Your Father is saying to you give me your right hand and He holds it tightly and He looks you right in the eye and says Fear not, I will help you! This is not the father who may have let you down or hurt you in the past. No this is your Heavenly Father who loves you with such love that you cannot even comprehend with your natural mind. This is the Father that is Greater than all earthly fathers whose mercy is new every day. He loves you with an everlasting love and He is jealous over you and wants you to know Him more and spend time with Him more each day.

Hear His words “For I, the Lord your God, will hold your right hand, Saying to you, ‘Fear not, I will help you.’” He will help you through that job loss, the loss of your loved one, the loss of your home, your car, even your health. He will hold your right hand through it all and He says to you today “fear not”.

Do you see it? Do you feel it? Do you know it? It is TRUTH! Don’t let the things of this world sway you away from this truth today. Look up with your child eyes and see your Abba Father as He takes hold of your right hand and walks you through every storm of life and reassures you “Fear Not”. He will help you. He has already been helping you and he will not let go of your hand.

Praise be to The Lord God Almighty for He is our help. He is our strength, He is our provider. He is our Abba Father. If Jesus Christ is your Lord and Savior then you can be assured of this fact today.

God bless you all!

Lessons From The Road

   
Last week as I was driving home from Kentucky I found myself in situations where God began to teach me some lessons. I share with you today in hopes that they will encourage and bless you as they did for me.As a truck was passing by on the left, I glanced over and saw the big tires rolling past and I became afraid. I quickly looked forward at the road in front of me while gripping the steering wheel. I felt like the Lord was teaching me in that moment that the key to overcoming fear is keeping my focus on Jesus. The scripture that came to mind was:

“A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand, but it will not come near you.” (Psalm‬ ‭91‬:‭7‬ NIV)

As I continued down the road, my GPS said to stay on the left however, I saw a sign which told me that I actually needed to be on the right. Had I stayed left I would have been going the wrong way. Oh thank You Lord for another lesson. We must pay attention to the signs the Lord gives us on our journey and be sure that we are not distracted by the enemy’s voice to try to steer us in the wrong direction.

Shortly after this, a car merged onto the highway from the left and almost hit me. I thought this was representative of how the enemy tries to distract and cause us to lose focus on Jesus. 

I continued driving through some construction areas that were kind of scary to navigate so I kept my focus on the car in front of me. He turned off to the right and I followed when suddenly I thought “uh oh!” I am going the wrong way now. How important is it that we are following the One that truly knows the way we are to go? That is Jesus. Fortunately the turn did not take me off course it merely took me off the express route. See we can follow other people, ideas or paths that take us off course from the clear path but that just results in it taking longer to reach our destination.

As I passed the windmills I was struck by their uniformity in how the lights seemed to create a symphony of red across miles of land. It was beautiful and reminded me of the importance of unity in the Body of Christ.

I was praying and suddenly found myself saying how darkness cannot live in the light but there can be shadows. That was a revelation that I cannot say I ever thought of but represents the condition of the church as we have people who think they are saved because they said a prayer but there was no real repentance or transformation so those people are actually living in darkness. The other side of that is true born again believers who have been transformed by the power of Jesus but may slip into sin and that is like a shadow but with true repentance they continue to live in the light.

I absolutely love how God speaks to us through everday events when we pay attention. For me, that trip home was a wonderful journey of unfolding lessons. May we all keep our eyes and ears attentive to the lessons the Spirit of God would teach us in the midst of walking through this life.

Let’s Talk About Love

When was the last time you were jealous of yourself?

When was the last time you compared yourself to yourself?

When was the last time you coveted something you had?

Sounds silly right?

So why do we do it to others when Jesus said to love your neighbor as yourself? Hmm never thought about that did you?

In the book of Matthew chapter 22 a lawyer tried to test Jesus and asked him what was the greatest commandment. Let’s read Jesus response:

And he said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the great and first commandment. And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.” (‭Matthew‬ ‭22‬:‭37-40‬ ESV)

The second great commandment is “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

What is love? Well we know that God is love but what does that mean for us who are human. The Apostle Paul describes love for us:

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭13‬:‭4-7‬ ESV)

Whoa! Those 3 little verses are convicting aren’t they?

Let’s break them down, shall we.


Love is patient and kind.

So I am thinking that makes me unloving and unkind when I’m behind the woman at the grocery store with 8000 coupons and asking for a price check on 3 items and I only want to buy 1 thing so I’m grumbling and getting angry.


Love does not envy or boast.

So that covers both ends of the same issue really. Don’t get upset because you can’t have what someone else has and don’t be flaunting what you have.


It is not arrogant or rude.

So I’m thinking road rage is not a good thing to have.


It does not insist on its own way.

What? But I’m an American! You know the saying “Have it your way”. Yeah, I’m thinking that only works at Burger King.


It is not irritable or resentful.

But that person just talked down to me and made me upset! Umm, no! Somehow the sermon on the mount comes to mind. That’s Matthew chapter 5, you should read that today.


It does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.

Doing wrong is like a joke to a fool, but wisdom is pleasure to a man of understanding. (‭Proverbs‬ ‭10‬:‭23‬ ESV) let’s not be fools, amen?
Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being, and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart. (‭Psalm‬ ‭51‬:‭6‬ ESV)
God delights in truth so we should too. Also did you know that Jesus said that He is truth? He did! Let’s read: Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. (‭John‬ ‭14‬:‭6‬ ESV)


Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Yes that is a tall order! But it is possible when we have God in our life and surrender to the Lordship of Jesus Christ. Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. (‭1 John‬ ‭4‬:‭7‬ ESV) If you had known me, you would have known my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” (‭John‬ ‭14‬:‭7‬ ESV)

That’s a lot to chew on today isn’t it. But it’s something I believe we need to get into our spirits. If we are to be the light of the world we will only reveal that light through love. I’m not there yet? Are you?

To be continued.

  

June Memories Part 2

June 9th and 10th…oh the memories these two days hold. First terror, second new life and third new career. It’s amazing how God can turn things around in our lives when we surrender to His plans and purposes.

First there was one of the worst days in my life. Twenty one years ago, a night like no other. Nine hours of violence, torture, fear and pain. God prepared me for that night but I just didn’t know what it would look like. I learned that night that you could cry with no tears. Throughout the situation I prayed in my head and trusted that God would hear my prayers. I will spare the details of what happened but suffice it to say that I should have been hurt much worse but because of my size and weight I was spared any broken bones. I survived.

Was it God’s plan for me to go through such a horrendous circumstance twenty one years ago? No, but He saved my life. He made a way out for me and even though it was one of the hardest seasons in my life, His grace was sufficient, His banner over me was Love and His peace is what sustained me.

Three years later, after trying to fix my life my own way God stepped in and moved me to a new location. A place where I never thought I would fit in. A place that would turn out to be the best thing in my life.

Four years later, I stepped into a new career. A job where I would learn and grow. A place where I would eventually cultivate close relationships.

Here I am today, twenty one years later looking back over the years. There have been many hard times and yet I’m still moving forward. Each year I have found myself becoming depressed in the month of June. Each year I have re-lived that one night from twenty one years ago. While so many people would be celebrating graduations and birthdays and weddings in the month of June when summer finally brought forth sunshine and beautiful skies, I would just sink back into the miry pit that God had rescued me from so many years ago. It has been a cycle of depression and despair for so long.

But today I truly feel that it’s over, it’s done and my healing is complete. I don’t feel the pain anymore. It’s just a memory, a time in my past that I can call a victory because I survived. I don’t feel the depression anymore and I can truly say I’m ready to give back now. I’m ready to help someone else who might be in the thick of the miry clay. I spent ten years trying to figure it all out on my own and then the next ten years letting God lead me and I have to say that it’s much better when we surrender and let God guide us.

Written June 10, 2015

  

June Memories Part 1

The month of June holds much significance in my life. It’s a month of remembering great loss and new beginnings. I truly believe the Lord strips away another layer of sorrow and loss from my life every year. Twenty five years ago my brother and I lost our mother. I was twenty two and my brother was four and a half. I know with all my heart that God prepared me ahead of time for her death. I really didn’t understand it and found myself taking blame where I truly had no control. 

I recall the morning quite vividly as I was braiding my daughters hair getting her ready to see her great grandmother on her father’s side. One of my uncles came to my house to tell me that my mother had died and my first response was “Don’t play with me like that!” but his response stopped me cold. There I was holding my daughters hair in a half braid and his words pierced through me like a long dull spear. “Do you think I came over here to tell you a f’n joke?” Then he broke down crying. All I could do was sit there. 

I don’t really remember feeling any emotion, I became instantly numb. I didn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. Surely there was a hidden camera somewhere and this was a sick joke. 

My uncle drove me to my grandmothers house and when I got out of the car my little brother came running toward me. He put his little arms around my legs and looked up at me with big serious eyes and declared “the fan killed our mommy”. He associated her cold body with the fan that was blowing on her through the night. His words shattered my unbelief and I knew it was true. Our mom was gone. 

The last time I saw my mother alive was right after Mother’s Day when I brought my daughters to see her and my grandmother. We had some serious conversations that day about my life. My life was a mess during that time. I lied to her about something that day and she knew I lied but never let on that she knew. The day she died that lie haunted me. It kept ringing in my head. I felt like such a terrible person. 

So much happened that weekend and throughout the next week in preparation for the funeral. I had several conversations with family members who shed light on many things that I might not had known about my mom. I’m grateful to those family members. 

My mother and I had a huge fall out about nine months prior to her death. I didn’t speak to her for three months. Then one day I just knew I had to make amends with her. It was right before Christmas that I stopped by to see her and as I look back today I am so thankful. I’ve never been one to hold grudges long and three months was a long time to be mad at my mother. 

I was pregnant with my son when mom passed and I knew I had to keep my emotions in check. My great aunt died when I was pregnant with my second daughter and  I became so depressed through that pregnancy that it affected my daughter. She was one crying child and didn’t like anyone! I couldn’t let that happen again. So I grieved for my mom for one day and let it go. Truly I don’t know how that happened but it did. I read the entire New Testament of the Bible over the next months and I’m sure that helped. 

Over the next seven years I allowed myself to grieve twice a year, on her birthdate and her death date. It was a long process. I cannot say I will ever truly be over the loss of my mother at a time when I really needed her. My brother needed her more. He was so young and would not have the memories that I had. She loved my brother so much. I thought he would be able to have the childhood I didn’t have with her. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

Today I think of my mom and wish I had one last phone call, one last hug, one last kiss, one last bag of popcorn and sweet tea, one last Chinese dinner, one last laugh, one last cry, one last chance to hear her yell at my dad to buy us dinner, one last chance to see her smile.

I love you mom.
  

Jesus said, “Follow Me”

This past Sunday after church, I drove down a road that I don’t like very much. The road is narrow and winding. It causes me to become nervous and afraid. I find it interesting that the Lord has been speaking to me through times where I find myself afraid.

I share this message with you today that the Lord spoke to me about following Him, about keeping my focus on Him while I was driving on that road.

God bless you all!

Psalm 40:2a – He brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay,