Tag Archives: child abuse

For ‘UncertainMe and all Her AmbiguousValues”

(inspired from a broken heart for a brokenhearted friend with the song, You’re Beautiful by: MercyMe)
To: UncertainMe and all her AmbiguousValues
From:~L and all her UntitledMoments
I know at times life is so uncertain
the world seems to be much
too vague
our childhood we lived was
beyond confusing
which makes everything and everyone
seem so very unclear

Our pain seems indefinite
the memories …
they go on and on and on…
hope seems hazy
and all we want is to be loved

Our values have been lied to
at times we wonder if God
even exists
and what is beauty?
Because that also has been tainted

Moments in time have been left untitled
shame sealed across our lips with secrete stories
stories that are much too awful to know where to even begin
moments now remembered… as grief now overwhelms

We ask ourselves…
How can I be loved?
How do I know what love is?
and how do I love myself?
when love was so distorted
Continue reading

Two Truths


One never thinks to experience
being passionately desired
Obsessively ‘loved’
Fully attended to
As when one is the object of the desires
and passions of a person who loves to hate you

… who loves to destroy you
.. who is devoted in having power over you
…who takes thrill in mocking you in your helplessness
… who derives pure pleasure from your pain
..who takes delight in your fear
…whose eyes light up when you cringe?
..who worships in watching you shrivel into nothing before their eyes
…who fills up with a sick joy when you beg heaven
and are turned away from mercy

Continue reading

God’s voice for the silent.

Matthew 27:15 American King James Version
But whoever shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea.

Luke 17:2 It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin.

Mark 9:42 GOD’S WORD® Translation
Mark “These little ones believe in me. It would be best for the person who causes one of them to lose faith to be thrown into the sea with a large stone hung around his neck.

I think their is a reason that It’s in the bible so many times. I don’t think I even have to say anymore on this. But I dare someone to argue this with me.

Let’s Paint April Blue

April is Child Abuse Awareness month and I’m challenging all my faithful readers to paint your blog blue this month and raise your voice.

Use blue font. Post a picture of something blue. Tell your story and I will post it in blue for you. Send it to untiltedmoments@ymail.com

Here is my first post in blue.

One month out of twelve
Let this one be the loudest
each day will be our song
some may rock
and some will softly leave us touched

Continue reading


Oh God, that thou might forgive
Oh, God that thou might forget
The murder in my head
Lest you shall not see
Tormentted fantasies to which I see

I’m wrapping my memories around his neck
I’m squeezing tighter now, strangling his neck
As he struggles to breath
No mercy shall you receive you pederast freak!

I will squeeze even tighter now
As he takes on last desperate breath
Alas he is dead!
I’m dragging his body down the darkest corridor of my mind
I’m dumping his body just outside my conscious door
Continue reading

The final Chapter and The Statistics Say You Won’t Read It All

(Statistics say you won’t read this all. Find out why when you read it all… if you want to know)  

Okay, if you have followed the last four posts you know that God showed Himself to me as a child. I walked and talked with Him, and as I grew a bit older, went to church and learned more about Him my love grew even more.  Then all Hell broke loose and I endured dark dark moments. Then God seemed distant, God seemed to create a safe place for me, God again then seemed distant and then His love would show its self again to me. I became angry, I became silent… etc… It was all unfair and I endured it. It’s confusing to wonder why God won’t just snap his fingers and change this. (Truth be told I still feel that way at times. I’m not sure who doesn’t)

… And now today; oh yes the present. The present is full of should have’s, could have’s and this and that’s. It’s full of the shame of things I’ve done wrong and the guilt that comes with that too. It’s full of its PTSD crap and triggers and depression and etc… The question now lies is there ever an excuse to choose wrong because I had a crappy childhood? No, there is never an excuse. Excuse no, but grace and mercy yes.

statsDo you know what statistics say about those who were abused and no one noticed or noticed and did nothing about it as a child? What happens when you wait until you are an adult to face your fears? Are you ready… because this is very unfair to read.

Children sexually and/or physical abused are:

  • As high as 81 % of men and women in psychiatric hospitals with a variety of major mental illness diagnoses, have experienced physical and/or sexual abuse.
  • are diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (81%), or Dissociate Identity Disorder(90%) when becoming adults.
  • 4 times more at risk for Major Depression as those with no such history. They are significantly more likely to develop bulimia and chronic PTSD. Most experience shame, flashback, nightmares, severe anxiety , depression, alcohol and drug use, feeling of humiliation and unworthiness, ugliness and profound terror.


Adults abused during childhood are:  –>

Among more than 1,400 adult females, childhood...

Image via Wikiped-more than twice as likely to have at least one lifetime psychiatric diagnosis

-almost three times as likely to have an affective disorder

-almost three times as likely to have an anxiety disorder

-almost 2 ½ times as likely to have phobias

-over 10 times as likely to have a panic disorder

-almost 4 times as likely to have antisocial P.D.

Suicide and self-injury

  • There is a highly significant relationship between childhood sexual abuse and various forms of self-harm later in life, i.e. suicide attempts and self starving, ect… For adults and adolescents with childhood abuse histories, the risk of suicide is increased 4-12 –fold!
  • Most self-injurers have childhood histories of physical or sexual abuse. Up to two-thirds of men and women in substance abuse treatment report childhood abuse or neglect.
  • Adults abused during childhood are more than three times as likely that those not abused during childhood to have serious substance abuse problems.
  • Research reveals severe and prolonged childhood sexual abuse to underlie damage to the brain structure, resulting in impaired memory, dissociation, and symptoms of PTSD. It is nearly impossible for those who dealt with such trauma to recover fully from damage to the brain as a child.

Delinquency, adolescent and criminal behavior

  • Numerous studies have documented the most violent criminals were physically or sexually abused as children.
  • Over 95% of perpetrators who sexually abuse female children and over 80% of those who abuse male children are men. Most of these men were abused themselves in childhood.
  • Of 14 juveniles condemned to death for murder in the US in 1987, 12 had been brutally physically and sexually abused, and 5 of those 12 had been abused by relatives as children.

Too many more to keep listing… way to many…

So that’s a lot of statistics! The odds are stacked up against me and anyone who has been a victem of childhood abuse. My Friend… My God is bigger than all those odds!! The odds say I should be socially shy; yet I can speak and sing in front of hundreds of people.  I can speak to my youth kids and somehow impact their life in positive way. I relate with these kids and its crazy how I am able to be used by God to share with them about how to deal with stuggeles and how they are not alone with their pain and questions about the World and God and who broke up with who. According to these statistics above I should be depending on drugs or alcohol to live; nope. I should be violent; nope.( I am a door slammer though) I should be one of those kids that murdered her perpetrator, come back and seek revenge on her parents -nope. I should I should I should… nope nope and nope.

It would be putting on the biggest mask if I were to say that none of those statistics have affected me. Some of them have, but thought that is true I don’t have to let that statistic run my life… I learn how to cope with it and surpass it.  Even if all my “nope’s” were yes’s… I still too could defeat them… it is possible, hard but very possible!  God is bigger than all of this.  Evil was done to me… but I don’t have to choose to be stuck in the odds. I don’t have to choose to do evil things/bad things. I am not all bad nor am I all good; no one is… and that’s just it, we choose to do what we can with what we are given… we learn, we grow, we extend grace and we receive grace.  God’s grace is greater then all of the ‘bad’ we do.  I am fighting every day to live my life the best I can. My God has saved me from what could have been worse. (some day’s I wonder what could have been worse but the fact that I am alive proves it could be worse… the fact that I’m alive and capable of beingloving mother to my girls proves it could be worse. The fact that I am passionate to speak out against injustice proves that it could be worse) That does not mean those who have and are drowning in these statistics can’t get help…. It’s a hard fight! A fight that you are worth and a fight that others who understand want to fight with you.  Reach out and make that first step in fighting… and grab on to another hand to help guide you.  (A pastor, counselor, doctor)

It’s a hard fight for me to be the woman God has made me to be when I have some of those statistics, having; PTSD,  Anxiety Disorder, Phobias, Suicide attempts, Sleep Disturbance, Headaches, an Abortion, teen mom, Domestic Abusive Relationships, Anger, and a few more others I suppose. It is very hard to fight your way to healing… That seems like a long list – I’m kida disgusted actually now that I just listed it all out… huh… You know, it could be so much worse, just read the statistic again.

I could not imagine how hard it would be to be homeless, or a drug user, or have abused my own children, or commit a violent crime, be imprisoned, and then try to heal from my childhood.

The God I serve can defeat these odds . I should have never been the child to grow up and become sociable, an all-star athlete, an A student; (even though I claimed the statistic of becoming a teen mom, I still got my diploma, first one on my mom’s side of the family) I raised my baby without help from parents. I, as an adult, have been able to work and do it well! For sometime I was a single mom, going to college full-time and waiting tables 30 hours a week. I have for the past 2 years, up until just a few months ago, worked with teens; mentoring and building unbelievable relationships with them. Its been said that I am a strong leader, I connect with the brokenhearted people in this world…

I am able to use my voice in front of hundreds of people even though I was told to never sing and it was never good enough as a child.  I never gave up singing about God and His love… never gave up singing to Him and all the odds say I should be the girl in the crowd with my head down. Not this girl! I’m also  a mom to my beautiful girls, cook some pretty amazing meals,  and more…. The odds say I could not do that.

If adults that suffered from sexual abuse from childhood had the same odds as the lottery; prisons, counseling centers and mental hospitals would be a declining business; right? If the majority of people who are clients, patients or serving time in these places were abused as children; they would not be there if the abuse never happened, right? (that’s what statistics say).  We would have smaller prisons and a healthier society.  …. Yet evil still exists and wondering what it would be like if the statistics claimed us like 1 in a billion instead of 1 in 4 or 1 in 2….. It’s all just a dream – a sad one at that.

Satan does not want my friend God to win.  The odds are more like Russian roulette with the devil. The thing is… my God wins in the end even if you get the bullet to the brain… In the end He will win… we just need to believe and know His name and grow with Him each day we breathe life. He loves us because He love us because He loves us. Nothing we do will make Him love us less.  We need to love ourselves enough to believe and receive that love and I promise you your world will change, not change like black to white, but change from seeing only black to seeing hope.  You will not be alone even when it seems you are.  In the end LOVE DOES WIN… it just might not be here on Earth.  Hang on dear friends our Lord has said, “Take heart in this world you will have trouble but I have overcome the world”

Trust and grief can coincide. It is still awful.
Trust does not make the pain go away.
TRUST infuses the pain with HOPE.
HOPE sees BEYOND the pain.
Seeing only the pain infuses suffering with despair.

I am trusting AND grieving
… and yes! …it hurts!
… and yes I’m desperately clinging to hope
… and no it does not make the hurt go away
… but as I trust; I feel a rising hope
… and I somehow can see beyond the pain.  That is HOPE… that is what God is… that is what changes.  It does not take the pain away or what is not in our control necessarily, but believing in that loving God and His Word gives us a hope to hold on to when we are in the midst of adversity… and also to show that same hope to others in the midst of their own adversity.

The odds of ‘us’ thriving from childhood abuse look pretty pathetic! Is their something we can do about this?  Do we just throw in the towels; let’s these numbers and figures claim us… or do we use our voice and for those that can’t do we use are voice even more to stand in the gap for them?  Yes!  Some ask if I really have a genuine fear about my abusers finding out what I’m saying and why I have a blog if I live in that fear… I try to stay on the “DL” with it. But… I need to use my voice and I just pray and hope that the people who hurt me are not going to find out who untitled-moments really is.  Courage my dear friends, it’s courage.

! If just maybe our schools would stop teaching our kids ‘stranger danger’ and teach them that also danger lies in homes, and churches, and ‘safe places’ maybe the odds would not be so against us. If churches would stop protecting their name to keep hush on this… maybe the odds would be better. If the people who are supposed to shelter adults as they counsel them to heal don’t abandon them because of lack of insurance or ‘other problems’.  If so many mental health providers and hospitals stopped over drugging all of us and show love and kindness and stop treating clients like a flipping file or a number. Stop treating us like a statistic!!!! STOP STOP STOP! You are giving the good doctors and therapists a bad name… we need to trust someone! Teach us the skills to overcome, be patient with us, and if you don’t know how- humble yourself enough and direct us to one that does.

If damn parents would not turn their heads when their kids were being abuse because it’s too hard for them to know, and that goes too for neighbors, youth leaders, teachers, etc; if people would just stop being silent and treating the victims of abuse like it’s too much to handle and it’s better to shut your mouth… then just maybe the odds would not be stacked against ‘us’ and the statistics would change.

My statistic say all of you who turn your head are cowards! They are children! They are adults that still have this child trapped within needing support now!

If maybe my mom would not have ignored me. If only the church that my mom drove me to in the middle of the night when I built up the courage to say five words, ” mom, grandpa is hurting me”. If only, if only….  How could a church turn their back on a 12-year-old girl? How could a mother allow evil to happen and ignore? How could a dad be blind? How could people now tell me to live in secrecy… why would churches tell me to stay hush? All those should have’s – could have’s did not, has not and will not happen. It is now my time to take those odds, stack them all up, step on top of them and tell all those people: You have wronged a mighty soul and the God of all is not happy. STOP KEEPING SECRETS!!!! STOP! It is your turn to shut up, sit down and stop doing God’s job! He will protect the precious name of your organization, your church name, etc… BUT if you choose to  hide ‘it’ thinking that hiding ‘it’ will make it easier for you maybe in 30 years, it will come back to haunt you like it did with this missionary organization that thought they could play God. (Read here.) These places must know that you have to educate themselves when working with children or are in the ministry.  You need to know how to deal with these situations.  We are fragile humans that need love and support.  Take up a stand, start support groups, know where to send people to get help, and for goodness sakes take part in Child Abuse Awareness Month this April! Listen to the abused even when their voice is silent.  Listen.

It’s time we told those odds that they can go to hell where they belong; they can burn in the flames where the ones that tried stealing mine and so many others’ life away.  They don’t define us even though some of them are true for us.  We are not a statistic. We are beautiful and can rise about the odds! And my Friend God does care, He is not a statistic.  I know He is real because I would not be alive or functioning with out His hand holding me from drowning in this raging sea of statistics and odds and all the secrets.

I am rising above the odds.  I have a long road to heal… but now that I have shaken some of those odds off; the road sees a brighter hope.

Watch this…. This is a clip from a T.V. show…. To set the stage before this clip: A troubled young adult named Gary, endured unspeakable abuse from his foster parents. Gary has turned very angry to society killing people who trigger his abuse.  This post is almost incomplete without this video.  Thanks for watching. 

I am not all good or bad, but I do have a choice …  I am not my mom; I will protect my kids at all cost.  I am not like so many in my family who choose to live in silence, hide in drugs and alcohol and suffer because they choose to ignore God and tell me I have a ‘creative imagination’.  I’m not the one living in a house with no electric, filth and smoke pot 3 -4 times a day.   …or the one who abuses his children and wife.  I am not the one who goes back to her abusive boyfriend over and over and over again. I am not the one who get’s himself in trouble with the law over and over again.  That is the family I grew up with and it’s sad… it’s very sad and I pray so hard that they will see and one day overcome the awful statistics that they hold on to in fear. It’s the only way they know.   I am rising above the odds because I have chosen to have my God be my guide and not secrets and evil! (oh, ouch!!! I am editing this a year later and I oh did I just eat a piece of my own advice… ugh) I am not saying  better than my family… I am choosing to live better. Like I stated I have my demons but they no longer define who I am!!! That is why my God is real and why I know that I know that I know :)  Don’t believe because I do… find Him and seek Him with all your heart… He will show you His realness. Try it… you might like it :)

I also refuse to split this post in a million pieces because it’s 3,115 words plus an 8 minute video with even more words :) Statistics say you wont read it all… but for those who did… I thank you for beating the odds :)

much love, ~L

Why He’s real to me. How I believe in a loving God that ‘seemed’ to never really love me at all? (Part II)

If you have read my blog you all know what happened on my 7th birthday. Maybe the post comes to mind about the ‘Yellow Dress’ it kinda sums it up a bit.

There have been many posts that have giving you some idea of what happened on and after the day I turned seven. Where was God then, right? I was an innocent child celebrating her birthday on the first day of summer. The longest day of the year was the longest night of my life… a night that lasted for the next five years plus with an evil man that was suppose to love me. Where is this God now, and when I was teenager… when, when, when? A night where my little mind became acquainted with evil hands from a man who was supposed to love me. Where in the heck was my friend that has kept me safe and I felt his power? Why was He not here? Why was He not listening to me now?

I look back today; I really actually mean today… to those untitled moments in a whole new perspective. A sadness and joy came over me at the same time. I was beginning to understand more clearly. I now see that day differently and my God with tears streaming down his face as he watched someone He loved be hurt by the choices of other men that choose to let evil be their god and hurt such little beautiful children… this is so emotional for me right now!
I honestly don’t remember all of what happened as a child. I honestly don’t remember what all I was thinking about my friend, Jesus. I remember telling him my fears, confusion, and sharing the moments of joy’s too. I still believed and loved Him even more – as it was in this time I needed my friend during those awful moments the most. I now know that He protected my mind from so much of that pain. I would have never been able to be the out going little girl I was. I somehow managed to separate the double life I was forced to live. Sometimes they bleed together and I remember those times the most clearly. It’s now that learning to know ALL of what each of those worlds held is the only way to heal and get through… to bring justice and peace to the child then and the adult now.

Through it all I still believed and loved my God even more. It was in those times I needed my ‘friend’ the most. Escaping to the woods or in a field I sang and sang my little heart to Him. In the winter I would build forts deep in the woods having conversation with this ‘friend‘. It was when I became about 9 -10 when my doubt filled my mind as time and time again I would ask my God, why? Is this not enough? Please just come rescue me from this evil. I became very angry. I fought everyone with unkind words. Hate began to fill my soul and I spoke less and less with my friend, Father God.

I still ask how and why? I don’t know that answer – I just don’t! It makes me angry all over again. How can this child lay in such a room full of darkness and cry out to her God to come rescue her and hear nothing. I fought tears. My little eyes would search and search the room for an angel to help me. If you have ever taken a drug to fall asleep or something for pain that makes you feel distant; I explain it like that. I felt like I was not all there. You kind of know what’s going on but you just don’t understand really. Perhaps like an out body experience. I felt like that a lot. And sometimes I wonder… maybe I was drugged half the time?
I didn’t stop believing in my friend; in God. I told him my hurts. I told him my anger. Even in my time of distance with Him, I would fall on my bed crying begging Him to please just keep me safe, please, please don’t let this happen tonight. Too many times my words meant nothing, so it seemed. Time and time again I was drug from my room to ‘this place’ and the unspeakable happened and where was my ‘friend’ then. If my God really made the stars and earth and moon and everything all around it, then why could he not make the evil disappear? He is all-powerful right? What’s the point of talking to my God if He is ignoring me?!? Ten thousand Angels rejoice in Heaven when a soul is saved and a relationship is started with Jesus, (words I read and was told) then why could He not send those ten thousand angels to fight for the little girl these Angels were so excited to be a part of their kingdom???? What is the point of talking to my God and asking Him to use his power if He won’t? (more words, but not now)

1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8, .........126

So here I lied, a little girl, cold and scared in the darkness of evil and all I could do was pray and here nothing… I was left to count the blocks on the wall… one, two, three, four, five, six, seven… all the way to 126. I would start again and soon I was lost in that wall and into another world where I was free from the pain, confusion, and heartache. It was there I met a boy who became my best friend. He became someone to keep me safe while the monsters tortured my body but here they could not have my soul. I was safe in another place with a ‘friend’ who showed me beauty and colors that we have never even seen on this earth. No pain, no sadness… just me in my ‘friend’ away from the world below where evil hands choose to take what does not belong to them. It was my fairy tale. (Maybe your thinking of a post a few weeks ago I wrote about my Fairy Tale World)

...no more pain

This world was just as real as the grass beneath my feet in summer… the snow that fell from a winter sky and the change of color when fall came. It was the excitement of spring being reborn times a hundred. Us humans, marvel in the seasons here on Earth and many of us know how scientific it is, but there is nothing scientific in the beauty and creativity of it all. You think that because a bunch of rocks collided or whatever you believe created the creativeness that this earth we know now surrounds us in? What about the Earth’s landscape of nature and its infinite creatures and plants and bugs that sea and land home is far too beautiful and speechless for it to be numbers and figures? God created science… it’s too creative and complex for it all too just form; and that’s just our Earth; what about the galaxies that go on and on and on and on? (How’s that for a run-on sentence ) So do you see, the dialectical thinking here; How do I believe in a loving God as I think He’s ignored me, but how do I not believe in a God who I feel just being surrounded by the beauty of Nature? … but it was not enough, I had to create yet another world to escape HIS) ? It is so confusing for an adult let alone for a small child? It does not make sense, does it?

This world I escaped to when I counted those blocks, it was as real as the one we all know now. And tonight as I started writing this I almost wondered if that world I ‘made up’ was a preview of what heaven is going to be like. And… I even go as far to wonder if my friend was the ‘friend’ I knew all along. Maybe it was just my imagination? Hmmm… Maybe it was an angel? I never let this idea of this world go or even my imaginary friend from my ‘made up’ world until I was about 18 or 19. I don’t know what that world was or who my friend in that world was, but I can’t help but wonder if just maybe… maybe my other friend, Jesus, loved me enough to rescue my little mind from the torture and bring me safe into His arms by giving me a safe friend (imaginary) a safe world to escape the pain below. If that is so… and I am really beginning to think it is so… then yes, my God is that amazingly powerful!

Why He’s real to me. How I believe in a loving God that ‘seemed’ to never really love me at all? (Part I)

If there is one post that will be the hardest to write will be this one today. I was asked a few days ago what I should write about and each response was about my faith. It was the last comment that really made me pause, cry, and determine to explain. This is going to very hard for me to write  in a way that explains it for you, as the reader, to understand; especially to explain why I know God is real even amongst all the struggles of my doubts and suffering because of the abuse I went through as a child and the struggles of life leading to now.

I was about four years only when I moved from a big city to a small country house that my parents were renting. I remember waking up screaming and screaming one night. I don’t know why… I was scared, I just was. That same night I felt someone or something touch me. I felt warmth all over me.  I was okay, it was such a good feeling that I didn’t have to run down to see my mommy and daddy. I knew at the very moment I was not alone. Something was in this room even though I could not see it… I could feel it.

I like to explain it like the wind. You can’t see the wind but you see the effects of the wind, you can feel the wind… and you just do.. you know its’ there. The same way I could not see what was in that room with me but I could see and feel the effects of what was in the room. I was so little to be able to even comprehend this.  Having a four year old right now puts me in awe that at four years old, not knowing who God, how I would have it in my head that something that I can’t see exists and this thing that exists is powerful because once I felt what I did that night, I never wanted to lose it.

Throughout my days after that experience I would talk to this unseen thing and ask to make me feel safe. It was not a make believe friend because I never had a face for him or a name. I just knew that there was something out there that was real and powerful; even thought I could not see it. From that day on I walked and talked with this ‘friend’.  The more I believed the more I could feel whatever it was  and that it was amazing.

...and why wouldn't she share this amazing new friend with the world ?

I remember a time that I had all the neighbor kids and my little brother and sisters line up on the lawn. I excitingly told them, “we are not alone”. There is something that we can’t see and it is our friend. You can’t see this thing but you can feel it if you believe”.

I could not fathom my five year old remembering that much after 20 plus years has gone by. I don’t remember much from those years but I do remember when I met my ‘friend’ and some significant moments.

When I was around six my parents bought a house on forty acres Around that time is when we started going to a small country church. This is where I first remember hearing about God or Jesus. When they talked about how you could not see God and you needed to have faith to believe and ‘ask Jesus in your heart’; I knew!  This is who I talk to and feel! This is my friend, He has a name!  I was so excited; now I could tell everybody about my friend names Jesus and how wonderful it was to have a friend like this… and boy did I ever.  My mom has told me of times when at the store I would tell everyone about my friend and how if you believe in him he will be the best friend you will ever have and he will keep you safe forever.

The more I learned about Jesus and His love the stronger my relationship became with my ‘friend’. I already knew before anyone told me that there was something powerful and kind who loves us. Learning how He was all powerful made me have a increasing respect for my ‘friend’.  I may have been thought many things about Jesus and some could say well the rest you were taught and brain washed.

Intensely reading about her friend, Jesus.

But see the thing is that when I got my first little kid bible and started looking at all the pictures and being read to, my friend would come more real to me. It was like He was teaching me all about Him through a big story book. I read slowly and sounded out so carefully each word.  I was just six trying to read this little kids bible and barley knew how to read. My daddy would read to me a lot, and when he did I would memorize the pages.

Their came a time when I was so sad that my friend needed to die for all of us in the world.  I was mad and didn’t understand why people would kill my friend.  Oh, but the joy when I found out that my God was so powerful that He raised Jesus from the grave and someday I get to see my friend because I believe so much that He is real! I was one excited little girl that Easter!
My Sunday school teacher use to ask me if I asked Jesus into my heart and I would tell her “NO, I don’t have to ask Him into my heart. (so proudly stated) …I felt Him when I was four and I believed He was real then. I don’t have to ask him in my heart, He is already my friend”! (So there… take that from a 6 year old! :) )

So here I was an innocent little girl with joy and love and full of life ready to save the world. Telling everyone about God’s love and trying so hard to be a good little girl. Six years old with joy unspeakable singing to my Jesus everywhere I went and thanking Him for never leaving me even when my daddy came home drunk and my parents would fight all night long.  My friend was still with me and teaching me that the world is dark and that is why he had to send His son to die so that we can say we’re sorry and live a life that is pleasing to God… so that in the end we can live in a world where no more mommy’s and daddy’s fight and where you never loose your animals. Such innocence and unaware of what was to come…

And then I turned seven.

Next post –>

She still lies trapped. I still am haunted. ‘we still remember’

(trapped little girl)
I live through you
I breathe only if you remember
The more you share
the more I die
I don’t want to leave you
Don’t make me go
Let me stay with you
the protector of my flesh
Keep breathing into me

(little girl now grown)
Oh your haunting needs to stop
you are forever in me
and forever I’m in you
Because of you
Every one leaves me stranded
forgotten. abandoned. left behind
I can’t let you stay another night
You need to go


You need to find the light
your place is no longer here tonight
you can’t stay with me
I’m filled with sorrow
as I’m bitter in my tiredness
and how It seems that I am
always being stranded
It’s time for goodbye
Each memory of you is keeping hope alive
it’s a dream that just can’t be
I need to let you go
Continue reading

Dear heartless gentleman,

Dear heartless gentleman,

If guilt was penniless my anger would have bitten into your flesh. My fingers would leave this haze of blistered purple and vicious blue around your neck. She had no choice. Your satisfaction took advantage of her ignorant innocence and the brokenness of a severely depresses girl. The moment your heartless actions faltered… you crept into her dreams with your mystical bliss.  You hid that little girl and she shut her green sad eyes that were finally telling what they witnessed … but your heartlessness locked her back in shame! You disgust me. This isn’t poetic. This isn’t brokenly beautiful…it’s a crime. A crime I never knew and was oblivious to. A crime that seeped into her blood and turned it to ice. Did you know she almost killed herself? Did you know that? Did you know that because of you she felt this was all she knew how to be. Did you know that she thought she wasn’t worth the fight anymore.

And then there is more??? Ugh! It makes me sick to know that I begged and stood so close to such evil!  “Once I was young and now I am old. Yet I have never seen the Godly abandoned or their children begging for bread” Psalms 37:25 ~You left a child of God begging for help and then abandoned.  Ouch… Not a very pleasant act to face our Maker. “For the Lord loves justice, and He will never abandon the Godly. He will keep them safe forever. But the Children of the wicked will die” Psalms 37:28 ~I heard that last line many times as a child… “the children of the wicked will die” I believed it all my life and still struggle not to puke as I read it now…. What evil it is to take GOD’s Holy Word and use it to shame a child.  And you… you have made her again, hold head down and cry many many abandoned sleepless nights and caused me to re-live all those lies over and over.

Continue reading

Sink or swim

Stuck under.You had asked me to fight and not give up
you told me it would be hard but you would never give up on me
I believed you
so i started swimming
i would get tired and thought i was going to drown
but you kept telling me to swim
you never gave up
you knew what to do

Many times I felt the monsters of this sea tugging on me
it was hard!
it would get dark
cold and rough
but you kept coaching me all along
telling me you believed in me
you knew i would see it through and reach the other side
your faith, you where so sure of
telling me someday you will tell me… I told you so

I would want to give up
i would tell you
I’ve been swimming forever
fighting the current is much to hard
and still
through all my doubt
all my complaining
you still promised that you would never give up on me
again you told me to keep swimming
one more stroke
just one more
and someday you will see
you will reach the other side or the sea
Continue reading

Two small hands and ten small fingers

Two small hands and ten small fingers
turn the pages of a book
protect her from his evil look

Two small hands and ten small fingers
build a castle in the sand
push away his unwanted hand

Two small hands and ten small fingers
climb the tallest tree she sees
grasp the sheets beneath and freeze

Two small hands and ten small fingers
catching butterflies in her field
count the blocks to escape his wrath

Two small hands and ten small fingers
pressed together in a prayer
twist and pull at strands of hair
Continue reading

Protected: What I am thankful for…

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

I am not yours, I am not mine

I am not yours
I am not mine
I was born in secrecy
Born among thieves
Born into a family where
addictions cradled me
and evil tucked me in.
Where the waves of the dark sea
sung to me lullabies each and ever night!

I was born into a family that was well acquainted with pain
Thrown in a cradle of addictions
My father an alcoholic
My mother an addict

And yet although both my mother and fathers’ addiction affected me
It was the my grandfather’ addiction
That would prove to be the root
of all the strongholds that have enslaved my life.

I am not yours I am not mine
And yet I was born to you
Born into your secrecy
And all of your thievery.
All of your madness has made me separate from loving you.

I may have my mother’s laugh
And my father’s passions
I may attempt at times to be a part of your genealogy
but will live my own legacy.
I may consider that a normal gathering is a desire of mine.
But when I think about all you have done to destroy me
I remember…

I am not yours
I am not mine
I was only allowed to be thrown into the storm that you created.
forced into a gathering of evilness
as you spoke against my creator
and stole my innocence
night after hell damned night!

Who am I

If I am not yours
And I am not mine
The question than lies
Than Whom do I belong?

Continue reading

Singing through the pain

Continue reading

Processing my feelings

It’s kinda been a rough few days for me.  Recovery is seeming a little gray at the moment.  I know that I’m moving forward and that I’m healing, yet it hurts so bad right now.  I’m  proud of how far I’ve come these past months…. it still does not make it easier… some days it seems harder!  The difference from then to now is hope.  I have a grasp on hope and I know deep down inside my sadness that there will be a day when I can look back and say, “I am who I am… beautifully made by my Heavenly Father for a time as such to embark on my passion that God has favorably fashioned in me… and free from the darkness that once kept me silent”

Sometimes it seems like moving forward is so very slow. Sigh… and I know I am doing the very best I can but sometimes my best is not good enough. I want to stay focused and climb this mountain once an for all. Which is also hard when my insurance company is being difficult :/

I have a daughter that is a swimmer… a very good one I might add :) Her main event is the 50 free and every time she shaves a 100th of a second off she is disappointed that it’s not more. At the beginning of the season she never thought she would get any ware close to state time. This weekend she PRed her time and took off seconds of her time that she started with in the beginning of the season. Who would have ever thought that all those 100th of a seconds would some day add up and make her one of the fastest swimmers? (FYI, High School swimming is fun to watch… I myself was the basketball/soccer girl so it took me awhile to enjoy watching this sport :) )

Sigh… that’s just it for me… I need to realize that all these 100th of seconds in my life will add up and before I know it I will be there… ready to embark on the life God has for me. I’m getting it… I am understanding that slow is not bad, yet necessary.

It is my prayer that God will keep me safe in His arms… it’s a hard prayer for me seeing that I am struggling understanding why he would keep me safe now but not then. It’s a hard question many people ask. I just need to remember that despite my doubt I know that His love is real… I know because I feel his presence around me so many times. I need to remember how important it is to feed my faith and starve the doubt. God has a plane for this life of mine. I am sure of this… I just need to keep reminding myself…

Should I be bold enough to speak in this moment?
A Reverent heart must surely be unbroken…

With no regrets
Should I be,
Lost in forgetfulness
With no regrets
In my head,
Faithfully shared

Should I be rich, or poor and scattered
In my dreams?
While all the figures that surround me live unguarded

Free from the worry
Free from the dark that lives in me
Free to embark on the passion
You’ve favorable fashioned in me

With no regrets
Should I be,
Lost in forgetfulness
With not regrets
In my head,
Faithfully shared.