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Silent Secret Screams

 Silent Secret Screams

I want to scream aloud
all the pain that lies within
dig at my rejecting flesh
no longer can I withstand to inhabit this skin

I desperately grieve
for this agonizing energy to leave
pleading for it to flee!
be gone
go away
I want ‘me’ back

My body is in great agony!
How long must this go on?
I am falling – I am weak
I am sick of being incomplete
This fear won’t let my mind speak

Too much pain to even gasp
these silent screams too much for one to grasp
there is nothing left but to collapse
as tears now trail
their threats never prevail

This is Hell on earth
I am extremely certain
behind this curtain stages Satan’s lingering flames
His relentless games
and fear has set a blaze to every single nerve!All as I am drug across another day
where the shards of glass continue to rip open my flesh
as I bath in the salty sea as it floods
with the  forever-spilling of my blood…
waiting for sharks to attack –
because as long as I’m a bleeding beating drum

I am burning in pain with excruciating silent screams
desperately trying to
break free from the silence
of unending sadness
and increasing madness

In desperation,

Untitled (I can’t title a moment if I don’t really know what ‘it’ is… it just is) Untitled


My mind is in a fog
and I seriously am crying
from the inside out,
shedding not a single tear…Drowning in a single mirror
from the outside in
as I dangerously am contemplating
My heart’s remaining years



“Hold on”, You say… … “I’m trying… I really am”, she whispers

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

at times when the world seems to be a dream

at times when the world seems to be a dream
and all you want to do is wake up and scream

when your faith is tested
and you now hesitate to believe what God has invested

when the darkness seems to surround
I desperately need the light to abound

so much pain
too much has been drained

to understand the me
is to understand how to be free

to know who this girl is now
is to know who the girl was then

to receive the love of God
to know it’s not a facade

it’s not delirious
it’s mysterious

his love is like an avalanche of grace
it has not been misplaced

and as the walls close in around us
the pressure tests us, I must confess

I search to find a peace
an inner strength to increase

in this world we will suffer
and somehow it makes us tougher

when earth is no more
and it’s time to soar

I pray that I have been faithful
despite the world and it’s dark pull

we are his masterpiece
an artsy of an almighty God

and someday I will know why
the fathers love and why he had to die

it’s not a great philosophy
His love…

we must not guess
the answer is yes
I must profess

He loves us
because He loves us
because He loves us

peace with in the distress
because He loves us

because He loves us

late at night… going through the motions the only way I know how… singing… music… raw…

Because he loves us…

The reality is… in my reality you can’t come

wishing you could come...

Won’t you come?

Keep me safe in the darkness
As shadows rise
and memories begin to flood my eyes
Won’t you come?

Let the safety of your hand
resting on my shoulder bring comfort
It is needed much
I wish for a gentle touch
Alone this is too much to confront
Won’t you come?

I just can't be alone with my eyes are closed

When I close my eyes
The movie trailer becomes
And all I want to do is die
As the many awful memories
Are behind each and every sigh
I am not sure I can do this alone
This hurt is too hard on my own
Won’t you come?
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 –>

Does Love really win?

38. love never fails

Love washes away when it rains

I just can’t cry anymore. I had an hour break on the way home… and slept 3 hours… to only wake up and Cry some more and more and more! What happened to the girl who just wrote a few days ago that she was going to fight and not give up????? I just am loosing so much and something that I thought I would never never ever loose. I hate promises! I hate love! LOVE DOES NOT WIN! LOVE TAKES AND TAKES AND HURTS! LOVE NEVER FAILS? All I once thought true… all I once held dear… It’s not true…. LOVE???? I thought that was it… the greatest commandment… BUT WHY DOES IT HURT SO BAD???? You know whats crazy???? That I thought that I was a girl who loved too much…. but I don’t know what love is anymore… UGH! I think I can only give love if I don’t have to be attached… a quick act of kindness in passing because I care… but once I am attached either A) It is taken away or B) It’s not what I thought it was and feel beyond stupid for thinking I could belong like that. Why :'(
Continue reading


I will rise! (in a thousand words) ;)

No poems tonight; just a passionate girl writing about what was stolen, what is wrong, what has been taken and also what is right, what has been given and what will be replaced! I never seek for people to think … Continue reading

The Yellow Dress

Daddy bought her a beautiful birthday dress.
She twilled about in the summer’s breeze
singing and dancing amongst the trees.
Fields of flowers and butterflies caressed
as the summer day progressed.

This day was not what was thought to poses
It’s time to confess…
to address…

The darkness of that dress.



A time came when her
pale yellow dress
became forever imprinted
forever in a mess.
Where memories of an eager birthday girl
suddenly digressed.
The day faded
and night became an unforeseen affair.

Eyes sealed tight
there is no might
no remaining fight
tonight… there is no light

She closes her weary eyes tight
struggling her way back
there she sees her field
her butterflies yield
hope is reviled.


An innovative friend is born
as her heart is being torn
darkness had been enthroned
in a world that has been loaned
beauty is envisioned
yet evil has been gathered
Their nothing left to fathom

The sky above now painted gray
take me away
take back my wish I pray
I plead to be forgotten
I want to go back to play


The earth below dyed vile red
it flowed…
…she lie broken.
she feels dead.
For life has been forgotten

How could she address the innocent wish
Go back in time
Hush this mess
Never put on that dress

This was her prophecy
Her wish became a philosophy
taken in secrecy
bound in conspiracy

As she has been removed
From the yellow dress

green – but not that you would know

Green is all I know . ..

green but not that one would know
i barely know
and i’ve tried hard to know
sometimes her green does not recognize even themselves
mostly they know too much
.                         .              .   

this way
that way
but not your way
not long enough for you to know

more down than up

i’ve searched to see what’s within her green
i need the green to feel safe enough to search
to let what’s behind the green do what she is made to do… what she once was.

the green wants to tell
even if there are things longed to be untold
the green is made to learn
even if there are things longed to be unlearned

hesitant – but desperate for someone to know the exact green
the exact shade
the exact hue
the exact brightness

someone to know
that’s what’s needed
that’s what’s feared
that’s the the shade of green
a hidden green

they hurt the green because the green forgot her job

shame hinders her green to look someone’s way
yet longs for someone to know
someone who wants to know
someone who looks long enough
someone who waits long enough
someone who knows too much
and then still wants to know more
someone to take her hand and pull her to the other side
the safe side

but not that you would know


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

In the stillness of the night!

I wrote this many months ago and yet this is still a very real on-going battle for me…   No one said healing from such a crime would be a hop, skip and a jump to ‘la la’ land…  their is a truth that gives me hope… i just need to keep the faith… and starve away the persistent doubt. They can’t have all of me.  This post was protected for a very long time… I’m unlocking it in hopes that it’s okay to disbelieve that curse full of damning lies and be very real with you today. (6.27.11)


In the stillness of the night as humans sleep …another world awake.
It begins to lurk into homes where windows have been left open
and doors remain unlocked

In the stillness of the night as a little girl lies a sleep.
Alone, there she is dreaming…  as her angels are unaware
Their swords have dropped be their side and her God has seems to disappear This is not the time for her protectors to be left napping
A little girl has been left in despair
as ‘they’ are now unwrapping

Heavens realm has been sealed tight
from protecting her tonight
As demons awake they
lurk around those supposed protectors of the night

How easy for them to carry her in this dark flight.

They slipped under her covers
Taunting her dreams that hover
Darkness blankets her cries
and haunting melodic sounds whisper her lullabies

Fear has imprisoned
Now possessed humans have arisen.
No longer a home to keep her warm
yet now there she lay,
Belonging to the cold unknown to be conformed
Where evil has tainted with her soul
Her Angels and Saints have lost control
as she fearfully lies less than whole

This is awful! This cannot be!
I shall testify what I see!

In the stillness of the night darkness has come for me
with just enough flickering light to see
these monsters taking over thee

Her little belly in knots
Her tiny hands too still
my sinking soul meditates despite the chill
Child eyes scan the room
for just one angle to rescue her from this doom.

God, please! Fight for her till dawn
Cradle her in the silver lining of Your embrace
hold her still in Your grace
Don’t let them know her soul lies safe
and no curse will break Your grip on her.
If they know
They won’t let go
until they finished killing
as blood forever spilling.

As night fades back to dawn
and my mind has been removed
Rushing water drowns her soul,
traps her thoughts as she now ‘goes’
this body can’t withstand the torture as it flows.

The water never hot enough
to clean the stains within
and never cold enough
to freeze remaining memories
Her mind has been strained
Tears too long have been refrained
Tears that now can hide
in this drowning so inhumane.
The memory is sent down the drain
as innocence has been slain

No longer can she maintain.
Her mind has been stained,
as these ritual drownings
ends the night in this crowning.

It’s not only imprinted in the deepest
corridors of her mind
but branded in her soul combined
as to the curse was burned deep to remind
of what can happen when her angels have been re-assigned

As scars remind
all that could rewind
to bring me back to evil mankind.
I swear to you I’m not blind!
With my own blood it has been signed.
I have been tortuously assigned
to never undermine!

Child now grown, trapped with in this uncertain adult…
now only memories assault.
Yet, still…in the “stillness” of the night…
I can’t help but wonder
who is still yet lurking into my bed with me at night.


the more I try the more it hurts…

Dark series #12 - the forest rouse

Image by Xavier Fargas via Flickr

Father, I’m going through some heavy things
It seems like this world isn’t getting any better
The more we try to get
closer to You
The farther we run from Your throne

I’ve spent so many nights wondering when will it end
When will the day come when happiness begins
I’m running the race but it seems too hard to win
I’m sick of mourning my stomach is throwing up in the morning

I’m calling for help and watching it melt away
My heart’s been put on display and put away
In many ways, many times I told myself it was ok
And anger was the price that was paid
While these faded dreams just screamed to bring them home

The burden was too heavy I kept running from the throne
I can’t take it any longer
I can taste my spirit hunger
God please help me get home

Lord though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I’m not scared cause You’re holding my breath
I only fear that I don’t have enough time left
To tell the world that there’s no time left, Lord please
Lord though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I’m not scared cause You’re holding my breath
I only fear that I don’t have enough time left
To tell the world that there’s no time left

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

If you want to know… If you really want to know… Listen! They will tell you what I can not…

This is my bleeding heart… each word!
I promise you this girl knows EXACTLY what it feels to be me! This is it! If you must know.
This is my secret. This it in whole! every word every note every feeling… every note!

I know it’s a lot of songs… but if you really must know… if you really want to know what it was like for me! I promise you this it…
…. it’s obviously been a bad day. Please pray!

(some OS wont play click here if you can’t watch.This video is exactly how I feel at the moment. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpxHzZ11qLo It goes to show you that visual is just as important as words!)

Lies! Lies Lies! All his awful evil lies!!!!!!!!

Continue reading

Recovery begins when….

My spirit flows in the wind
in hunt for the protectiveness of my savior
I’m listening for my Fathers voice
but that’s all I hear is the monsters resounding echoes…
telling me I’m stupid
telling me I’m his

Recovery begins
When you set fire to the lies
When you face the fear
And deny the power of his shaming voice.

Recovery begins
With each breath that is spoken
With each tear that wells up
With each memory penned in ink
All against the evilness of his quest….

My spirit fights in the storm
In search for the forgotten memories
Gathering what’s left
from the damning damage that he created…
all as I was mercilessly forced to endure in the confusion
and harbor a greater pain and relentless torture
of this man that had a dark fixation on my once innocent now bleeding heart.

I’m still listening for my Fathers voice…

Recovery begins
In opening up
In telling my sad story
My story of a girl who was stripped of her virtue
Stripped of her voice
And left forgotten in a world where no one noticed the damage being done
where the villain seemed to always win and the innocence of her small life was tossed into the summer wind.

Recovery begins
When I’m assured that I’m not alone
When I’m assured that I’m not stupid
That what he did was not my fault
And I’m not out of my mind

Whisper to me…
Take me away in the wind
Let me feel the presence of my redeemer…
Recovery begins with HIM!

Little girl I am freeing us today
I am putting voice to our sad story
Defeating the monster
Declaring our memories as is
And no one can take us down

My spirit flows in the wind
in hunt for the protectiveness of my savior
I’m listening for my Fathers voice
And this is what it’s saying…

He’s telling us we are not alone
That recover began at the cross
Recovery began then
And recovery begins now
It begins with the voice of Love

Recovery begins
When I release the grasp of the darkness
When I step out of the shadows
And let the light bring the reality
Of the sadness

Recovery begins
When I let the voice of the redeemer
be the only echoing voice with in.
Recovery begins when I let go of all I have been clinging to and
allow His healing hands to recover me from the ashes
and turn me into something beautiful.


*I’ve never found a more perfect song to fit a post before.  I hope you take the time to listen to this beautiful song by Firefight…. it is perfect!  You would think that I wrote this post after I heard this song… yet I found it after as I was searching for a fitting song…. it was meant to be…