It is amazing to me how many times throughout a day I repeat words (see below) to keep my heart held high. Emotionally it is draining but the option is devastation to my soul...so when it comes down to it, there is no other option than besides these words...
"Blessed be Your Name, in the land that is plentiful
where streams of abundance flow, Blessed be Your Name
Blessed be Your Name, when I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness, Blessed be Your Name
Blessed be Your Name, when the sun's shining down on me
Blessed be Your name, when the world is all as it should be
Blessed be Your Name, on the road mark with suffering
Blessed be Your Name, though there is pain in the offering
Every blessing you pour out on, turn back to praise,
When the darkness closes in Lord, still I will say
Blessed be Your Name of the Lord, Blessed be Your Name...
Blessed be Your glorious name
You give and take away...My heart will chose to say Lord blessed be your name"
I will never understand why abuse is a part of my story or is still happening to millions of innocent children and adults across the globe. My heart will never understand...
However, with more conviction, I humbly stand tall and say this journey is not about me. I believe with all my heart the suffering I endured was meant for a story I will understand someday, because at the end of the day, this journey is not about me.
It is about, "Blessed be Your Name..."
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
My Mountain
Lately I've been spending a lot of time at home, due to my kids not feeling well (all of us are getting cabin fever). And thanks to my amazing husband, he has a list of "Amy's Songs" on our sonos, so it is easy to play my favorite songs without needing to look in a million places for this song or that song (I know for many reading this, they have their ipod but I've yet to get one...it will just be one more thing for me to easily lose!)
Needless to say, spending more time at home, I have been able to listen to songs more than normal....and one that came up yesterday was "Walk Down this Mountain," by Bebo Norman. This song came on shortly before I put the kids to bed, and in spite of my husband being on travels, it was like his voice being a part of us last night...and words that my best friend tells me daily, through one way or another.
"...Walk down this mountain with your heart held high
Follow in the footsteps of your Maker
With His love that has gone before you,and these people at your side
Offer up your broken cup
You will taste the meaning of this life..."
Even though Ken has never told me those words exactly, every day his eyes of protection and confidence enable me to walk down my mountain with my heart held high. I tell him often, but I don't think he really grasps without his voice of truth, I would never have been able to even start to walk down my Mountain, almost 3 years ago, with my heart held high.
"Thank you" will never match the gratitude that I hold in my soul for him....and for him, I will keep walking with my heart held high.
I love you, KNB.
Needless to say, spending more time at home, I have been able to listen to songs more than normal....and one that came up yesterday was "Walk Down this Mountain," by Bebo Norman. This song came on shortly before I put the kids to bed, and in spite of my husband being on travels, it was like his voice being a part of us last night...and words that my best friend tells me daily, through one way or another.
"...Walk down this mountain with your heart held high
Follow in the footsteps of your Maker
With His love that has gone before you,and these people at your side
Offer up your broken cup
You will taste the meaning of this life..."
Even though Ken has never told me those words exactly, every day his eyes of protection and confidence enable me to walk down my mountain with my heart held high. I tell him often, but I don't think he really grasps without his voice of truth, I would never have been able to even start to walk down my Mountain, almost 3 years ago, with my heart held high.
"Thank you" will never match the gratitude that I hold in my soul for him....and for him, I will keep walking with my heart held high.
I love you, KNB.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Whipped Cream
I will never forget one day I was in the kitchen with my son, Cole. (One thing you need to know about Cole is he loves ice cream and he loves loves whipped cream)
So Cole has the ice cream in his bowl, passionately puts whipped cream around the entire bowl, and noticeably is pleased he has as much whipped cream as ice cream in his bowl. All I remember next, is for some reason, 5 mins later his bowl of ice cream is untouched - and the whipped cream is now a bunch of 'empty cream' on top of his ice cream....and with eyes looking as sweet as they can be, my son asks me if he can have some more whipped cream because he has 'no' whipped cream on his ice cream anymore!!
It was then I realize that whipped cream is so much like life.
How often do I get into something, want lots and lots of it (thinking it is going to fulfill me, make me happy, give me satisfaction, give a sense of control, the empty promise list goes on and on), and only fine when I am done with "it", "it" deflates and leaves me just as empty as I was before I started to get more of "it". I realized when Cole first put on the whipped cream - it looked perfect, and promising....and then minutes later it was a bunch of "nothing". Lies are amazing how they twist our mind into making us thing if we get this or do that we will be 'perfect', 'whole', lack of need etc.
I treasure how my Creator, through processing and shedding my pain, has shown me I never need "whipped cream". My vulnerability of trusting Jesus, and believing not just knowing, that He is my redeemer, my advocate, my comforter and my healer - daily and hourly - enables me to be free of grasping for more "whipped cream".
Cole to this day still loves ice cream and whipped cream. And I will admit, at times, Cole's bowl of ice cream is the best medicine for the 4 of us - with or without whipped cream.
Thanks, Cole Kenneth Joseph, for reminding me to take time out for the simple things in life...and I am more than OK with or without "whipped cream".
So Cole has the ice cream in his bowl, passionately puts whipped cream around the entire bowl, and noticeably is pleased he has as much whipped cream as ice cream in his bowl. All I remember next, is for some reason, 5 mins later his bowl of ice cream is untouched - and the whipped cream is now a bunch of 'empty cream' on top of his ice cream....and with eyes looking as sweet as they can be, my son asks me if he can have some more whipped cream because he has 'no' whipped cream on his ice cream anymore!!
It was then I realize that whipped cream is so much like life.
How often do I get into something, want lots and lots of it (thinking it is going to fulfill me, make me happy, give me satisfaction, give a sense of control, the empty promise list goes on and on), and only fine when I am done with "it", "it" deflates and leaves me just as empty as I was before I started to get more of "it". I realized when Cole first put on the whipped cream - it looked perfect, and promising....and then minutes later it was a bunch of "nothing". Lies are amazing how they twist our mind into making us thing if we get this or do that we will be 'perfect', 'whole', lack of need etc.
I treasure how my Creator, through processing and shedding my pain, has shown me I never need "whipped cream". My vulnerability of trusting Jesus, and believing not just knowing, that He is my redeemer, my advocate, my comforter and my healer - daily and hourly - enables me to be free of grasping for more "whipped cream".
Cole to this day still loves ice cream and whipped cream. And I will admit, at times, Cole's bowl of ice cream is the best medicine for the 4 of us - with or without whipped cream.
Thanks, Cole Kenneth Joseph, for reminding me to take time out for the simple things in life...and I am more than OK with or without "whipped cream".
Friday, October 24, 2008
Sophie's Song
My daughter and I love to watch the movie Parent Trap. One of our favorite parts is when the song, "Here comes the Sun," is played.
Every time I here the song, I think of Sophie. The song cannot be played in our house without Sophie passionately dancing around singing loudly.
I love the simple moments in life, even when the sun is literally not shinning, but my soul is loudly singing, "Here comes the Sun".
I remember after 6 months of intense weekly therapy, a few years ago, I was sitting on 'my sofa' in my shrinks office and said,"I'm at the point in my journey where I can keep coming to you and play victim (and be enoucraged to play victim) or I can choose to use my pain to help others...stop focusing on the whys and starting focusing on what is my role with my past pain...how can I use it to empower others and honor my redeemer"
I was convinced the sun was able to shine - even when darkness was trying to keep it buried. I knew it would be extremely painful to let sun break deep buried darkness (because shame and anger like to put up 'stone' walls to break).However, I knew once the sun exposed the darkness - that darkness was never going to get a hold of me again - even though it tries often to this day...
Whenever I hear the song, "Here comes the Sun", I think of Jesus, my redeemer, my "Sun"...Thank you , sweet Sophie Claire Amy, for reminding me my "Sun" is with me....and is available to anyone who wants to embrace the truth that Jesus is an almighty redeemer and healer.
Every time I here the song, I think of Sophie. The song cannot be played in our house without Sophie passionately dancing around singing loudly.
I love the simple moments in life, even when the sun is literally not shinning, but my soul is loudly singing, "Here comes the Sun".
I remember after 6 months of intense weekly therapy, a few years ago, I was sitting on 'my sofa' in my shrinks office and said,"I'm at the point in my journey where I can keep coming to you and play victim (and be enoucraged to play victim) or I can choose to use my pain to help others...stop focusing on the whys and starting focusing on what is my role with my past pain...how can I use it to empower others and honor my redeemer"
I was convinced the sun was able to shine - even when darkness was trying to keep it buried. I knew it would be extremely painful to let sun break deep buried darkness (because shame and anger like to put up 'stone' walls to break).However, I knew once the sun exposed the darkness - that darkness was never going to get a hold of me again - even though it tries often to this day...
Whenever I hear the song, "Here comes the Sun", I think of Jesus, my redeemer, my "Sun"...Thank you , sweet Sophie Claire Amy, for reminding me my "Sun" is with me....and is available to anyone who wants to embrace the truth that Jesus is an almighty redeemer and healer.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
My Song
My wish for every soul being suppressed in their journey is they can sing the song, "I can see clearly now..."
I ached to be able to sing that song in my soul. I ached for freedom. The type of freedom that could sing "I can see clearly now that rain is gone..."
For years, before I even realized I was abused and would walk around , acting like I was all put together, being involved with this organization and that, silently my soul would ache to sing that song. I could never figure out what was getting in my way. What cloud was hanging over my voice?
In my attempt for clarity and freedom, I chased many dead idols. My dead idols were a comfort to me. At the end of the day, they were like my friends: always there for me. But unlike friends, I could control these idols - which gave me a false sense of security and power.
It was my best friend and soul mate who taught me the power of releasing that control and completely trusting a Creator who not only understood my pain, but had allowed it and would use it for good. I can see clearly now...
Even with clarity, I still have moments of unbearable pain. And at times my soul weeps silently. However; it is that pain that allows me to confidently embrace life I never thought possible and keeps me on my knees. I also know I wouldn't have the humility, mercy and compassion that compels me to love and serve many. I wouldn't trade that for all the "bright, bright, sunshiney" days in the world.
I ached to be able to sing that song in my soul. I ached for freedom. The type of freedom that could sing "I can see clearly now that rain is gone..."
For years, before I even realized I was abused and would walk around , acting like I was all put together, being involved with this organization and that, silently my soul would ache to sing that song. I could never figure out what was getting in my way. What cloud was hanging over my voice?
In my attempt for clarity and freedom, I chased many dead idols. My dead idols were a comfort to me. At the end of the day, they were like my friends: always there for me. But unlike friends, I could control these idols - which gave me a false sense of security and power.
It was my best friend and soul mate who taught me the power of releasing that control and completely trusting a Creator who not only understood my pain, but had allowed it and would use it for good. I can see clearly now...
Even with clarity, I still have moments of unbearable pain. And at times my soul weeps silently. However; it is that pain that allows me to confidently embrace life I never thought possible and keeps me on my knees. I also know I wouldn't have the humility, mercy and compassion that compels me to love and serve many. I wouldn't trade that for all the "bright, bright, sunshiney" days in the world.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Passive Ugliness
This week 3 girls who have been exploited will be in a safe haven for the first time in their lives. They are not much older than my daughter, who just turned nine.
Exploitation is ugly. Abuse is ugly. However, being passive is uglier. At what level is it our personal responsibility to take action against this underground slavery?
We hear all the time...1 in 3 girls are abused...1 in 5 boys are abused.
4 children will die within this minute due to abuse.Those could be my children.Those are the reported cases.Those do not include the millions of young children and adults presently being exploited.
That is ugly.
Do we sit in front of our screens, in our over sized chairs and silently scream: "That's terrible, that's horrific, how can people do this to innocent children?" when we hear of a story? And somehow our few words of muttering make us feel like we doing our part to stop this horrific slavery, that is happening in our cities and suburbs.
I used to do that.
That is ugly. Until 3 years ago.
After I realized what happened to me as a young girl, for the first time in my life, I could not remain a passive voice. I was not going to let darkness, guilt, and shame silence my voice any longer. I was not going to let darkness silence other voices that never have, and may never get a chance to speak out and break from their chains.
Yes, hell was a part of my journey, and hell was ugly. However; to passively ignore the rest of the children and individuals today who are experiencing hell is uglier. No doubt, hell likes to make its mark in our world. But what hell forgets is once it's discovered, freedom is born.
The type of freedom that conquers all hell and breaks all chains.
The type of freedom that once found, can never die.
The type of freedom that can only shout because at one time it was silenced, and isolated, and ugly.
I will no longer let passivity be a part of my jounrey. To remain passive will only add to ugliness.
Exploitation is ugly. Abuse is ugly. However, being passive is uglier. At what level is it our personal responsibility to take action against this underground slavery?
We hear all the time...1 in 3 girls are abused...1 in 5 boys are abused.
4 children will die within this minute due to abuse.Those could be my children.Those are the reported cases.Those do not include the millions of young children and adults presently being exploited.
That is ugly.
Do we sit in front of our screens, in our over sized chairs and silently scream: "That's terrible, that's horrific, how can people do this to innocent children?" when we hear of a story? And somehow our few words of muttering make us feel like we doing our part to stop this horrific slavery, that is happening in our cities and suburbs.
I used to do that.
That is ugly. Until 3 years ago.
After I realized what happened to me as a young girl, for the first time in my life, I could not remain a passive voice. I was not going to let darkness, guilt, and shame silence my voice any longer. I was not going to let darkness silence other voices that never have, and may never get a chance to speak out and break from their chains.
Yes, hell was a part of my journey, and hell was ugly. However; to passively ignore the rest of the children and individuals today who are experiencing hell is uglier. No doubt, hell likes to make its mark in our world. But what hell forgets is once it's discovered, freedom is born.
The type of freedom that conquers all hell and breaks all chains.
The type of freedom that once found, can never die.
The type of freedom that can only shout because at one time it was silenced, and isolated, and ugly.
I will no longer let passivity be a part of my jounrey. To remain passive will only add to ugliness.
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