Forgiveness As a Choice—Not a Feeling

 

Forgiveness As a Choice—Not a Feeling

I’ve been struggling with an inability to forgive and I found a study with a completely new perspective. What if I chose to forgive now, instead of waiting until I felt like I was ready to forgive?

God sent Christ to die for my sins BEFORE I was sorry. God made a choice to forgive me. God canceled the debt, releasing me from anything I owed him. That’s what real forgiveness looks like.

True forgiveness is a total release from anything we are owed or they deserve as a punishment.

Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others. Col 3:13 NLT

Forgiveness is a choice, not a feeling. It’s choosing to cancel a debt owed to us. Our feelings may cry out against the whole idea of forgiveness. Still, we can choose. This mirrors what God did when he chose to forgive us.

The divine sequence God has given us is: think, choose, then feel.

1)      We can set our minds on the truth of what needs to be done.

2)      We can choose to forgive and release someone from the debt owed to us.

3)      We can remember the choice we made from then on.

4)      We can live in agreement with the choice we made.

We don’t have to wait for our emotions to line up with our choice.

When we choose to forgive someone, it’s mostly for us, the person we’re forgiving may never know we’re forgiving them; they may not even be alive anymore!

Do we pretend our anger and pain don’t exist or matter? No! Get alone with God and talk to Him. Be honest, He can handle it! You might want to talk to a trusted friend or sponsor too. Then tell God you’re choosing to forgive the person and releasing them from the debt they owe you. Ask God for help when you need it.  

It’s a sin to let my emotions control me rather than holding onto the unchanging truths of God.

Abba Father, thank You for showing me how to forgive, I choose to forgive Richard Eugene Dowden for molesting me when I was a child. I choose to forgive him for making me feel like it was my fault. I choose to forgive him for making it so hard for me to trust You. I choose to forgive him for making it so hard to trust people, including myself. I choose to forgive him for making me feel unloved and unloving and unlovable. I choose to forgive him for awakening evil desires in my mind. I choose to forgive him for demeaning my mother, myself, and my siblings. Lord, I release him from all debts he owes me in this life and in the afterlife. Dad, when I start to fall back into old habits, I ask You to remind me of the choice I’m making today to forgive Richard Eugene Dowden and help me stand firm in my decision to let go once and for all. Thank You for the healing You’ve already given me. Amen.   

Shifting the Blame or Avoiding Responsibility

Another characteristic of abusers is denial of responsibility. The abuser actively and constantly attempts to shift the blame for their actions or thoughts, from themselves to others. Abusers are unwilling to accept responsibility for their actions.

They minimize their actions and the aftermath. When I confronted my evil step-father Dick (by letter) about his abusive ways during my childhood (I didn’t have the courage to truthfully and concisely discuss the abuse, so my accusations were somewhat vague), he wrote back that he had “bittersweet” memories too.

Abusers claim others “made them do it” or “made them mad”. Dick was constantly talking to me about girls who were loose based on their appearance and walk. He made it clear that kind of girl deserved whatever she got. And all women are alike, so they all deserved maltreatment.

Abusers are rarely remorseful. Dick seemed quite uncomfortable with any show of emotion, except anger. I was encouraged to be angry with my siblings. When I was laughing or smiling, his demand was, “Why are you smiling?” When he didn’t approve of the emotion showing on my face, it was “Wipe that look off your face!” When I cried, he’d mock me or spank me longer. When I was bleeding due to an injury and crying, Dick threatened to let me bleed to death if I didn’t stop crying. I learned to deny my feelings for so long that eventually I couldn’t even recognize my feelings.

The abuser tries to make the victim feel responsible.

The victim is often expected to meet needs which are not their responsibility and often beyond their ability.  I never did anything to Dick’s satisfaction, my best efforts were always lacking. 

Once abusers are successful at making their victims feel responsible, the victims carry around an overwhelming sense of shame which makes them feel worthless. The abuser can then use that shame to manipulate and control the victim.

Often, other family members encourage lying or denial in dealing with the abuser; which reinforces to child victims that the abuser is somehow justified. When a victim tries to tell an authority figure about the abuse and is either not believed or encouraged to keep it a secret, they are led to believe they are somehow culpable for the abuse.

This is what the Bible says God feels about blame-shifting and the treatment of victims:

“Acquitting the guilty and condemning the innocent – the LORD detests them both.”                         Proverbs 17:15

Prince of Deception

My evil step-father Dick was a liar. Everything about him was a lie. He didn’t complete grade school, but he would use large words which he thought he understood. Often enough to make him sound ignorant, he would use them inappropriately. He didn’t want to be corrected: I tried.

We were told repeatedly that “we don’t air our dirty laundry in public.” We were taught to keep family secrets; at the same time, we were being told that God considers lying a sin. It is extremely common for abusive families to lie to hide the abuse.

Dick told me repeatedly that I was ugly, unlovable, stupid, of no value, etcetera, etcetera. These were all lies! Unfortunately, I entered adulthood believing all his lies.

Both of my parents and the church told me that a good girl would be a virgin on her wedding day. Dick took my virginity and when I realized it, I knew it meant I was no longer a “good girl” but I was confused because everyone talked like I had a choice in whether or not I was a virgin. I also had to continue lying to my mother because she didn’t know, and I felt a fierce need to protect her. I was profoundly confused.

As I got older, the sexual abuse stopped. When I began working, Dick knew when I got paid and would be waiting for me to arrive home. He would tell me he needed a favor; then ask to borrow my entire paycheck to pay a household utility. I lent him money every time he asked (I would have done anything for my mother and siblings); and he never paid me back. Once I realized what he was doing, I began going and spending my paycheck for what I wanted before I took it home. It didn’t occur to me until I was an adult looking back, but how did he pay the utilities before I started earning a paycheck?

As a teen, I purchased a vehicle using a bank loan. Either, I couldn’t have a title in my name or I couldn’t get a bank loan in my name due to my age. I did go pay on the bank loan every time I got paid until it was paid off. I was so excited. Until I saw my car on the corner with a For Sale sign in the window. (I had been grounded for breaking curfew and was riding the bus.) I asked Dick about it when I got home, and he told me he was selling. When the car was no longer there a little while later, I asked Dick if he’d moved it. He’d sold it. I asked him where my money was from the sale. His reply was “What money?” Lying, stealing, manipulative, abusive, evil man sold the car I paid for and kept the money. (Just when I think I’ve forgiven him, I feel angry all over again!)

I’m still confused by the level of lying in my childhood home. As a child, I lied all the time. I lied about my home. I lied about my step-father. I lied about my siblings. I lied to my step-father. I lied to my mother. If my lips were moving…I was most likely lying.

At some point, I stopped lying. I think it happened when I started to realize that Dick was evil. I think this was when I stopped overtly lying and began learning to deny the reality of the bad things that had happened in my life.

I became more and more verbally honest as time went by and even flipped too far the other direction; using the guise of honesty to say very hurtful things to people I claimed to love.

My mother (who has a pure, loving heart) doesn’t always embrace the truth. She often shades reality by suggesting it’s better than it is. I don’t know if she was in denial or if she was afraid that by facing the problems honestly, she would make them worse. This added to my confusion about lying and honesty.

Today, I hate lying, I pride myself on honesty; however, I’ve learned to be more loving in my approach. Every day, I’m conscious of the fact that I lived most of my adult life in denial of my reality and I need to be wary of doing it now.

I can’t stand a liar. I just figured out why today. What can I say? Sometimes I’m slow on the uptake.

The 3/5-3/8 2019 School Week in Review

This week being a learning coach was mostly a blessing.  Last week, it felt like a curse.   

My 10 year old nephew Nathan is an everyday liar.  I’ve learned through conversations with other adult family members that this has been a problem for years and Nathan continues even when caught blatantly lying.  I hate being lied to.  If you lie to me and I know it, I’m going to call you out. 

This week, I remembered how much I lied at his age.  I was distrustful of everyone and lied to protect myself.  I’m like a reformed smoker who wants to force the rest of the world to stop.  I’m a recovering Control Freak!     

Nathan is lazy.  He’ll ask me for scratch paper that is the same distance from me, as from him, expecting me to retrieve it with a sly grin on his face. I haven’t told Nathan he’s lazy: he told me “I’m lazy” while smirking.  He consistently chooses what requires the least of him.  He’s in a remedial reading course (in addition to his regular Language Arts) because I was concerned he may have missed some essentials previously.  Yesterday, I observed him skipping through being read the stories and guessing at the answers until he hit upon the right one.  He lied about it even though I was standing behind him as he did it and saw with my own eyes.  It seems his reading skills problem is from his choice to do as little as possible.   

This week, we talked about how the bible says a person who’s not willing to work, shouldn’t eat.  We identified what Nathan’s work is school right now.  I’ve begun seeking opportunities to praise extra effort, regardless of the end result.  I’m a recovering Perfectionist, so I tend to be very harsh in my expectations and interactions.   

Nathan is disrespectful of his elders.  He argues with me every day.  He uses sarcasm and insinuates a lack of intelligence.  If I say get out your English book;   he responds with a sneer in his voice, “Do you mean Language Arts?”  If I tell him it’s time to take the test; he says “It’s a Quick Check.”  When an adult says no, he demands to know why.  He pulled the stitching out of one of my best chairs.  He uses other people’s belongings without asking.  He has strewn the contents of his school art kit about because he doesn’t put his belongings away unless I stand over him like a drill sergeant.     

This week, I realized that the adults in my family may be talking about and treating each other in ways that are disrespectful in front of him.  I have criticized the lesson content, the communication with people at the school, and the frequent class changes and cancellations in front of him.  Our attitude is often that if someone disagrees with us, they lack intelligence.  One of the things I said repeatedly in my former life was, “Stupid people annoy me!”  I’ve started trying to change this behavior in myself.   

Nathan rarely takes personal accountability for his actions.  He told me “Everyone lies.” when I confronted him about a lie he had just told me.  He has blamed shoddy schoolwork on myself and his grandmother.  He blames low assessment grades on poorly written questions and not being taught the material.  This week, we discussed the fact that we’re both Christians and will have to give an accounting to God someday and that God won’t want to hear what anyone else did when we’re discussing what we did.   

This week I put up new verses and we talked about what they mean and how they apply to us.  Luke 17:2 is my verse for the week, “It would be better for them (me) to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around their neck than to cause one of these little ones (Nathan) to stumble.”  As an adult Christian in my nephews life, I’m a representative of God.  He learns who God is by observing who I am.  If I don’t behave in a way which is deserving of respect; how is he supposed to respect God?  If I use scripture (God’s word) to beat this child and fill him with shame; then he’ll believe God sees him as worthless and unredeemable.  

Nathan came prepared to listen and do this week.  He didn’t lie to me until Friday.  He didn’t attempt to skip lesson material without permission until Friday.  He suffered some natural consequences (instead of me trying to force a different behavior)  for not following directions and had to use “free time” to complete some assignments he didn’t finish during assigned school time because he was stalling or refused to follow directions.  I had many opportunities to praise him. 

Red Flags to Avoid

As pervasive as abuse is, it’s important that we’re aware of red flags while we’re selecting our life partners. Better to completely avoid becoming entangled with an abuser. Survivors can easily connect with an abuser because we’re comfortable with the relationship dynamics with them. It’s what we know.

According to “Mending the Soul: Understanding and Healing Abuse” by Steven R. Tracy, the general characteristics of abusers include denial of responsibility, deceitfulness, harshly judgmental of others and calculated intimidation. I agree with this conclusion as it’s what I experienced at the hands of my abuser.

My evil step-father Dick was extremely judgmental. He seemed to hate everyone. He was misogynistic. He had nothing nice to say about women ever. He was also racist. Basically, it seems he hated everyone but himself and other pasty-faced white men. Yes, I still have a lot of animosity toward him. In retrospect, I think he was comparing himself to others and finding reasons so he could believe he was superior to them. At some level, he may have known his behaviors were wrong; however, he never had to look at his own shortcomings because he was busy badmouthing others for what he perceived as their problems.

We moved to a town which had a sign on its border which said (I apologize profusely) “No niggers, spicks, or chinks allowed.” He would say the “n*****” were trying to take over the world by interbreeding with white women. I was astounded by his ignorance. He would see a girl walking down the street and proclaim she was a whore and he could tell by the way she walked and dressed. He would tell me all women were alike if you turned them upside down.

My evil step-father Dick also used intimidation to keep myself and my siblings in line. I don’t remember Dick making any direct threats: I just felt this constant, overwhelming sense of dread. I knew I was going to be subjected to more abuse because my best was never good enough. I’m in a constant state of alert because I’m always expecting more suffering to come my way.

When it was time for a spanking, Dick would send me to get his belt. If I was crying, he would spank me until I stopped. If I was not crying when the beating began, he would spank me until I cried.

I wasn’t allowed normal emotions. I was allowed anger.

I split my knee open playing tag in the dark and was crying when I came inside the house. Dick was there and told me to stop crying or he’d let me bleed to death. I stopped. He put rubbing alcohol on my open wound; and I passed out from the pain.

He was always threatening to “wipe that look off your face” or “give you something to cry about.”

Abusers are master manipulators and use all kinds of strategies to trap their victims for as long as possible. I believed I had little to no power as a child. At 11 years old, I began planning my escape by trying to save up enough money to leave my childhood home. I believed that was the only solution.

People were always complimenting my parents for how well-behaved their children were in public. We were terrified of being beaten by Dick when we got home.

No one knew the truth. I didn’t know how to ask for help. When I finally tried, I was dismissed by a health care “professional” as a dramatic teen. My maternal grandmother sensed something was wrong but didn’t know how to ferret out the truth. What my childhood family showed the world was a lie.

Blaming the Child Victim

Something I struggle with nearly every day is the belief that I’m not enough, that I’m defective, that I’m responsible for every bad thing in my life and the lives of everyone else.

Intellectually, I know it’s not my fault there’s a war in Syria or racism or a myriad of other evils but the soul damage I suffered at the hands of my evil step-father Dick has caused what seems to be permanent damage (unless God decides to miraculously remove it).

Ironically, I even feel like it’s my fault I can’t figure out how to overcome the belief that I’m to blame; this is a perfect example of my “stinking thinking”.

As I read “Mending the Soul: Understanding and Healing Abuse” by Steven R. Tracy, my dilemma was explained at long last.

Abusers blame their victims. My step-father believed everything was my fault and told me so every day of my childhood.

I believed the abuse was my fault. I believed it happened because I wasn’t good enough. I believed that if I was good enough, my evil step-father Dick would finally approve of and love me. I believed that I had the power to stop the abuse if I was just good enough. The abuse didn’t stop until I moved away as a young adult. I was never good enough in Dick’s eyes.

Rather than conclude that a parent is wrong or evil, children decide they must be bad and at fault for their parent’s abuse.

Children come to believe they deserve the abuse.

My reaction is common among victims of child abuse. They falsely believe the parent is good and they are bad. They believe their own bad behavior brought on the abuse and they can stop the abuse by being good. This gives them a sense of hope and power. They hold on to this belief tenaciously.

I had requested counseling because I thought I had a sexual dysfunction. We discussed the sexual abuse I suffered as a child in the broadest terms. The counselor asked if I felt ashamed of what had happened, and I burst into tears. Of course, I did, and I thought it was because some of it felt good to a child. Sexual touch was designed by God to feel good and it’s good for us when done within the boundaries of God’s plan for us. Now, I understand it was also because my evil step-father Dick had blamed me as a child, and I believed him.

I was attending Celebrate Recovery meetings for abuse survivors in Washington State. The first meeting, the facilitator stated if anyone was abused as a child, they were NOT to blame. I cried as if I was a child again. I needed to hear that so badly and didn’t even know it.

I would love to leave this habit I have of blaming myself for anything that goes wrong behind; however, I’m certain I’m not capable of leaving this shortcoming behind on my own. I’m totally willing to let God remove it from my life. I’m also totally okay with having God use this about me to help another person who has survived childhood abuse. What man intended for my harm, God will put to good use.

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.”     Genesis 50:20

The Image of God Distorted and Mended

Recently finished reading “Mending the Soul: Understanding and Healing Abuse” by Steven R. Tracy. It was excellent and now I’m trying to distill what I learned to a shareable form.

My step-father Dick was abusive. He abused me physically, emotionally, spiritually, verbally, and sexually. Satan used my step-father’s abuse to separate me from God’s love and nearly destroy me. I’ve always believed in God, but I couldn’t trust him. I thought he was like my step-father.

God’s design is for children to learn about him through their experiences with their parents. My step-father taught me what Satan is like, but it has taken me decades to understand this. My mother is a godly woman, but she was unaware of the extent of the abuse and she was unable to protect me from her husband. My step-father convinced me that I was all wrong, stupid, sinful, unlovable, good for only one thing-being a virgin when I married. I believed I was unforgivable and hopeless. My step-father blamed me for his actions and I believed him.

I attended church faithfully throughout my childhood and on and off as an adult, but I was trying to earn God’s favor. Every time I heard the following verse, I again felt like the abuse had to be my fault, because what kind of father…?

“Which of you fathers, if your son asks for a fish, will give him a snake instead? Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” Luke 11:11-13

If evil, human fathers give their children food when they ask, why was mine abusive? Why was he angry all the time? Why did he ravage my soul with his nasty, hurtful words? Why did he touch me inappropriately?

I believed in God and I had accepted Christ as my Savior, but I had no trust in God, so I ran from him, and was disobedient (I trusted my way more than I trusted him). I had very little joy in my life. I couldn’t accept that anyone could love the real me, so I was separate from my spouse and children.

Some of the common distortions abuse survivors battle are: God isn’t big enough, God isn’t good enough, God is mean and untrustworthy, God isn’t safe, and God’s love and approval must be earned.

It was almost impossible for me to believe God loved me. I’d feel it for a moment, then it was gone again. It wasn’t until a Christian woman loved me with Christ’s love (not sexual) that I could finally accept that God loved and accepted me as I was. This is what God says about me and all his children.

“The LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17

It was not part of God’s plan that I suffer abuse at the hands of my step-father. Dick made sinful choices which created consequences for me. Jesus chose to be abused in order to save my eternal soul, so he understands my hurt. God is sad when his children are hurt. Here is what God says about abusers who cause children to stumble.

“If anyone causes one of these little ones-those who believe in me-to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.” Matthew 18:6

Today, I’m convinced God, my heavenly Father, my Creator loves me!

Slow to the Pace of Grace

I heard this phrase in a sermon when I lived in Washington state and it resonated with me. 

I was taught as a child that doing tasks was important and a possible way to win favor.  I was also taught that my best would never be good enough; therefore, I have no worth.  Sorry, I had an evil step-father named Dick.

Because of my childhood training, I have spent my adulthood doing.  And what I did was never enough so I could never slow down or stop. 

The pastor said Christians need to slow to the pace of grace.  We need to make time in our busy lives to do what God prompts when he prompts. 

His example was the Good Samaritan in Luke 10.  A traveler was beaten and robbed by thieves, and left naked beside the road.  The Samaritan was traveling but was filled with compassion when he saw the beaten man.  The Samaritan cleaned and bandaged the injured man’s wounds.  He put him on his animal and carried him to an inn.  The following morning, he gave the innkeeper some money and asked him to take care of the man, explaining he would return for the injured man. 

My first instinct is to say, “What? Who has time or money for that?”  And yet, that is exactly what Jesus expects from Christians. 

We need to get our priorities right.  In today’s world, businesses are pushing their employees to do more and more and more with less and less and less.  Sometimes, as Christians, we’re conflicted because we have multiple goals and we’re not sure which should come first.  But God tells us that his priority is more important than the world’s. 

“The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever.”

1 John 2:17

We need to stop doing what we think is most important and do what God is asking.  He will bless us if we obey him. 

As a Christian, the thing I desire most is to hear “Well done, good and faithful servant,” cross my Father’s lips. 

All I have to do is obey him and the most important command he gives me is to give people a glimpse of who he is by loving them in action. 

“Dear children, let’s not merely say that we love each other.  Let us show the truth by our actions.”

1 John 3:18. 

I can’t show love to anyone if I don’t slow down and give them my time and help when they need it.  

How I Escaped His Attack

I had agreed to work overtime to speed up when I could afford my own place. I had just finished my early shift and was due to start my regular shift shortly when a coworker told me my husband was there looking for me and wanted to talk to me. I agreed to go out back to talk to The Rock. The store was the central retailer in a strip mall. The parking was in the front of the various stores, but there was also pavement in the back which was never occupied by anyone. At the time, I was a cigarette smoker and that’s where we took our smoke breaks.

I go out back and we’re talking. The Rock is accusing me of having sex with the person I’m rooming with. I’m denying it again. Suddenly, the light goes out of his eyes, and he says “Well, I just came here to do this.” He pulls out a brand-new switchblade and opens it to reveal the 6” blade. He makes a stabbing motion toward my stomach and I put up my hand in defense: he cuts the tips of three of my fingers and I begin to bleed quite a bit.

I was hopping mad! Literally.

I lost my mind and started hopping in a circle, screaming at him, “You cut me! I can’t believe you cut me!” I was thinking about the woman they’d recently found dead in a secluded pond, killed by her angry lover in a domestic violence attack. I was thinking about the fact that he had an open switchblade in his hand. I was thinking if I ran, he would catch me before I got to safety. I was thinking that I was losing blood and starting to feel woozy.

A couple in a VW pull up to ask for directions and I ask them to call for help. They sped off.

I told him I needed medical attention. He offered to take me to the hospital. I didn’t want to get in the car with him. (Never let them move you to a different location.) I told him I was woozy and there was a pharmacy in the mall where we could purchase hydrogen peroxide and bandages. He agreed. We walked in together, got the items, waited in line for them, and paid for them. I couldn’t believe no one noticed my distress, the blood, or my wounds.

I told him my regular shift was starting soon and I needed to eat before it began. He offered to treat me to fast food across the street. I suggested we eat inside Montgomery Ward at their little diner. He agreed. We went inside, ordered, and sat down in a booth with our food. I sat there picking at my food, trying to respond to him in a way that wouldn’t create suspicion, while I was trying to figure out how to get away from him.

My supervisor comes in and approaches us. I’m thinking she’s looking for me because I’m late for my shift. Yay! She kneels next to us and starts making small talk. I’m wearing white flats which are splattered with blood and am sporting new bandages on three fingers. She doesn’t notice. While she’s talking to him, I interrupt to ask him if it’s okay if I go to the restroom. He agrees. I leave the table and head upstairs to the employee only bathrooms. He can’t get past the locked door. I go straight to Security and tell them what’s going on. They go detain him until the Air Force Security Police arrive to take him back to base.

God is Love

I was so surprised to read “God is love” in the bible. 

I believed God was this all-powerful being who created mankind and then tormented his creation for his pleasure.  I thought God believed I was evil and unlovable and that he was just waiting for me to die so he could judge me and send me to hell for eternity. 

I believed I could fix this if I could just show God some success in my life at following his directions. 

I experienced Christians as better-than-me do-gooders who had perfect lives.  I felt shut down when I tried to share my real struggles.  I heard them saying my faith and obedience weren’t good enough.  I believed they were reinforcing my brokenness with their judgment. 

I finally God desperate enough to try something different and I went to a 12-step program where most of the people were at some stage of growth and healing.  These were a loving people and they welcomed me with love. 

I went back to church and found myself welcomed with loving embraces by the female leader of the singles’ group.  She knew I was living with a man, but she left that up to God and loved me where I was. 

When God invited me to surrender; I did no without hesitation or reservation. 

It was amazing. 

Then I started reading my bible and praying every day. 

People always talk about the love chapter in 1 Corinthians 13, love is this, love is not that, blah, blah, blah, human love.  Human love had failed me, that chapter left me feeling disappointed. 

I came across 1 John and sprinkled throughout the pages are explanations of God’s love, our love toward him, and how he wants us to love each other.  I’d read these verses before but my eyes and heart were closed, they didn’t make sense.  Now they do. 

Dear Father, I pray anyone who reads these verses does so with their eyes and hearts open.  I pray they understand the depth of your love for us.  I pray they understand what you’re asking them to do.  I pray they will see through Satan’s lies about love as he tries to take a beautiful truth about you and distort it to separate us from you and your love and mercy.  In Jesus’ precious name.  Amen

“God is love.  Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God in them.”       1 John 4:16

“This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.”                        1 John 3:16

“Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.”            1 John 4:8

“Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar.”     1 John 4:20

“Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.”

                                 1 John 3:18

God loves us and wants a relationship with us.  God designed us to love others and to be in relationship with them.  Satan tries to convince us that God doesn’t really love us and that we can have love and relationships that are better than God’s plan for us. 

Don’t be deceived. 

“He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him.  When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.”                           John 8:44

God and Satan want two different outcomes for you. 

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”       John 10:10

God wants you to spend eternity with him in heaven.  Satan wants you to keep him company in hell for eternity. 

I would love to hear from you.  Let’s share our master’s (God and Jesus’) joy with each other!

“Mending the Soul” Book Review

An important part of my relationship with God is connecting with Him each morning. I read out of a daily 12-step inspirational book, and out of whatever book I’m studying (either the Bible, a bible study book, or a topical book by a Christian author), and I pray. If I don’t start my day on this solid grounding, I’ve pretty much screwed myself. I’ll end up behaving in a way I’m not proud of or I’ll have to endure something alone when I could’ve had help from my Father.

Anyway.

I’ve been reading “Mending the Soul: Understanding and Healing Abuse” by Steven R. Tracy. He and his wife are the founders of Mending the Soul Ministries.

This is an excellent book. I recommend it to anyone who has survived abuse or works with people who are abuse survivors.

I don’t remember how the book came to be on my radar. I may have read about it in another book or I may have had friends who were reading it and talked about it on Facebook. Either way, the book made it into my bible study material.

I’m a survivor of childhood abuse at the hands of my step-father Dick. I spent decades trying to heal myself. I didn’t trust God because I thought he was like Dick. My life was a hot mess when an atheist friend suggested a 12-step program. God used that program to begin healing me and our relationship. He continues to improve me.

I know a lot of people at various stages in their healing process and I have a lot of compassion for them. This book seemed like a good fit for me.

The book outlines what abuse is and how it colors our perception of God. It describes abusers and their families. It discusses the extent of abuse and the origins. The author also talks about how abuse affects the lives of abuse survivors. He also goes into detail about how to seek healing and how to help others on their journey to recovery.

I’ve read a lot of self-help books over the years and received a substantial amount of counseling. This is the first book I’ve read that discusses abuse within the Christian community honestly. He doesn’t dismiss counseling, he explains how to help abuse survivors in a spiritually sound way that will help rather than further traumatize them.

There were some specific areas of interest for me, including: guilt versus shame, feeling like it was my fault, minimization, repressed memories, learning from the past, wrestling with God, how God feels about abusers, and forgiveness.

I plan to discuss this in greater detail and would love to hear your thoughts on the subject.

Snow Day

Well, this is almost unheard of.  The forecast snow storm actually arrived.  My mother doesn’t like to drive in snow, so she had forewarned me there was impending inclement weather.   

Early this morning, she sent me a link to local traffic information which showed many road closures due to snow.  The city had already closed its offices for the day.  My brother works for the state and they hadn’t closed.  I let my brother know his boys could spend the day with me and was trying to decide whether or not they were going to have school at my house.  (The youngest has been doing his school at my mom’s for the last week and a half due to behavior issues which meant they needed to be kept apart.)  I began getting ready for their arrival.

An hour later, my mom sent a group text to my brother and I and our out-of-state sisters of her yard with five inches of snow and still falling.  I followed up with a photo from my front door.  My fun sister Tammi suggested we make snow angels.  I advised I do not want to touch the snow: I only like the way it looks.  My brother reported his boys were up at 6 am playing in the snow in his yard.  They did make snow angels.  He announced his office was closed for the day. 

Yay!  Now the boys get a real snow day to play!  I notified their online charter school.  Ours is an odd situation since they’re attending class online but not at my brother’s home.  We’ll have to catch up, but it’s worth it to have a rare day to play in this white stuff we almost never get. 

My brother added photos of his yard to the group message. 

I’m thinking I get a snow day too!  Hopefully.  My husband is horking (the sound he makes when he’s puking and nothing is coming up).  I’m thinking I’ll work on writing my blog and watch some scary flicks, maybe catch a few episodes of “Designated Survivor”. 

Three hours later, my mom reports her power is out.  Yikes!  We’ve already had two brown-outs, so I turn off what I don’t need.  I play nurse to my husband (I’m not very good at it): made him peppermint tea and oatmeal but he can’t hold anything down, brought him things he asked for and checked in on him while he slept.

I did watch two episodes of my series and two scary movies. I worked on my blog and actually enjoyed it instead of feeling like it was a chore.  I haven’t gotten dressed.  I ate homemade tuna salad on homemade bread for lunch (both made earlier in the week).  I snacked a bit here and there.  Our power never went out.  Yay!

I saw two cars drive past during the morning.  A little before noon, two more vehicles drove past.  The pickup stopped at a stop sign, then tried to turn right, couldn’t do it without sliding and skidding until he got some traction again.  Heard sirens approach and stop about a block away around mid-afternoon.  Have seen a few more vehicles drive past late in the afternoon.  It has stopped snowing.  The air temperature has increased to the point that it’s melting now. 

My mom reported their power was back on about five hours after it went out.  Mom and Dad had breakfast in their camper and listened to the news on their radio.  They’re fine and grateful. 

My family prayed for my husband and he got a good two hour nap.  He’s still not feeling well but at least he’s rested for the moment. 

I fed our little dog and she began whining because she wanted to be let into the side yard.  I let her out but she wouldn’t step off the covered concrete into the snow.  Pansy!  

An Attitude of Gratitude

Where do I start? 

When I was in the Army National Guard, one of the call and response deals we did went like this:

     Sergeant:  “Company!  You all need an attitude check.”

To which we would respond:

     Company:  “Aw shit, fuck you, man.”

I have no idea why I like foul language so much.  I feel like they convey a deeper emotion than a more civilized choice.  It’s like, your feelings are so intense, you have to swear. 

I loved that I had been instructed by someone with more rank than I to say this phrase.  It tickles me. 

I’m so very grateful for the sense of humor God created me with.  Laughter is my main coping mechanism.  As a child, I loved to make my mom laugh.  I’d come home from school and regale her with stories chock full of humor. 

Oh and we’re a bunch of sarcastically funny people, my family.  I’ve been told the Greek root of sarcasm means to “tear flesh”. 

I have no idea how much of my life I was so focused on the negativity in my life that I totally missed out on many, tiny moments worthy of gratitude. 

After I started my recovery, I remember the first moment of gratitude to take me by surprise was seeing a tiny butterfly flitting about, sharing its exquisite beauty with me. 

What makes it really funny is I previously considered myself a positive, glass is half full kind of gal. 

Right. 

I find that if I start telling God what I appreciate and am grateful for, my focus shifts from the problems in my life to all the good in my life.  And in the reverse, if I let my thoughts and energy weigh on my problems; I don’t even notice my blessings. 

I can make a choice to improve my life by simply refocusing on the good until it becomes a habit. 

I’m going to face problems throughout my life on Earth, it will be easier if I do it with a grateful heart. 

I have much to be grateful for:  a loving husband for whom I have an enormous amount of love and respect, loving parents, loving siblings, two wonderful sons, seven amazing grandchildren, food, transportation, clothing, home, friends, eternal life, a unique relationship with my Heavenly Father and Creator. 

Yeah, I’m much happier when I exercise an attitude of gratitude. 

I Was a Mixed-up Mess

We went to counseling with a Baptist minister. He told me everything was my fault because I wasn’t honoring my husband like the bible says I must, so my husband can do anything he wants. He is the head of the house and it’s my Christian duty to obey my husband. End of story.

He was sent on frequent temporary duty missions and was away from home a lot. We had a phone in the house, but I didn’t want to tell my mom the truth about what was going on. She and my evil step-father Dick were getting divorced; he abandoned her and his children and left town, so she was struggling financially. I didn’t want to be another burden to her. I entertained my husband’s “friends” while he was away. I did it because I was unhappy, abused by my own husband, trapped and angry. I did it. It was sinful and wrong. It was hurtful. I never admitted another affair. I loved him, but I had no idea how to be married. I had no idea how to have a conversation with him. I had no decent relationship skills. I tried but I was sorely lacking. So was my husband.

I worked in domestics at Montgomery Ward in Melbourne, Florida. I had a supervisor I really liked. She invited me to dinner at her home when my husband was away on duty. I met her husband and enjoyed a lovely meal. Then, she told me her husband wanted to get into the swinger lifestyle and they were wondering if either I or myself and my husband would like to join them in threesomes or foursomes. I declined. Later when she and I spoke privately, I explained to her it wasn’t a lifestyle I was interested in, at all. She apologized and told me her husband was unhappy in the marriage and pressuring her to invite her friends to join them in the bedroom.

Obviously, she and I confided in each other. I had told her about the physical abuse The Rock was often subjecting me to, and she was encouraging me to leave him. I felt trapped. I was raised to believe good girls were virgins when they married (I was not, thanks to my step-father). I thought of myself as a Christian and Christians don’t get divorced. I didn’t think I had anywhere to go, even though my mother would have welcomed me home. I was a mixed-up mess.

Not My Will, But Yours

For decades, I acted like I was God. I acted like I knew just what every person I loved needed from God. I had no idea what I needed, but I was confident I could fix anyone else; if they just listened to me.

When I prayed, I would go on and on about what they needed to change. I would ask God to give them patience or wisdom. I would ask God to fix what I perceived as their sins and/or shortcomings.

Bah hah hah!

I wonder what God thinks about my haughtiness! This is my basic sin. I set myself up in the position of God in my own life, and then the lives of the people who were closest to me.

If you shared a prayer request with me, I’d evaluate and judge, then start asking for what I believed was needed.

A 12-step program taught me to “Let Go and Let God.” It took some time, but eventually I added to the saying because it makes even more sense to me: “Let Go and Let God be God”.

I’m not God.

I must remind myself of this frequently because it’s easy for me to slip back into old, bad habits.

In Matthew 6:9, Jesus teaches us how to pray to God. We’re to ask for his will, not ours. So why was I giving God a laundry list of my will? Sinful pride. Blame shifting. A desire to control.

It’s funny how hard this simple thing is to do. People ask me to pray for specific things for specific people. When we do that, we’re putting limits on God. He can do and imagine so much more than we can! Stop telling God what to do! Get out of his way.

LORD God, you are incredible, always surprising me, always loving me. Thank you for all your creation, for the weird animals and the funny bugs. Thank you for your spectacular sunsets. I pray for your will to be done LORD, not mine. I pray you will keep me humble. LORD, thank you for providing for all the needs of my family and I ask that you continue to provide what we need, food, shelter, clothing, and relationships. LORD forgive me for the sins I’ve committed against you today. Please continue to remove my shortcomings as you give me the courage to face them. LORD, thank you for loving me in just the way I need. Please continue to protect me and my loved ones from Satan’s attacks. In your son Jesus’ name. Amen. Amen.

How Could a Loving God Allow This?

I understand why people ask this question.  I asked this question repeatedly, as a child. I was being victimized at the hands of my step-dad Dick.

Here’s the answer: 

The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness.  Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.                                 2 Peter 3:9

God hasn’t returned because he’s giving us more time to get right with him. He wants every single one of us to spend eternity with him in heaven. Heaven will be the perfect place so many of us long for now.

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.       Revelation 21:4

When God created Earth and everything in it, it was perfect. Man was perfect too. God created Adam and Eve and they lived in the Garden of Eden. They were naked but they felt no shame. They didn’t have to work to satisfy their needs. There was no pain. It didn’t last long because Satan twisted God’s words. Adam and Eve both chose to disobey God (sin) and ate the fruit God told them not to eat. Each subsequent human has had to decide whether to obey God.

Everything that’s wrong with the world is a result of our individual choices to sin.

Yes, God could have created mankind without the ability to sin. However, without the ability to choose, we become robots without the ability to have a relationship with another. That’s what God wants. A personal, individual relationship with each of his children.

I’m not going to lie.

I still wish I hadn’t gone through the bad parts of my childhood. I wish I hadn’t been so broken when I entered adulthood. I wish life was fair. I wish no child anywhere was ever cold, hungry, abused, hurt or hopeless. I don’t completely understand God’s plan, just a small portion. I fall into the trap of believing I would do things different (better) if I were God. And that’s just it! I’m not God. It’s sinful to put myself (or attempt to) above God. I’m a part of his creation. I have limits. I can’t see the future, I haven’t existed outside of time, I don’t know everything.

God is God and I trust him!

I also struggle at times. What if my step-father Dick is in heaven when I get there? Ugh! I don’t want him to be. I want him to be punished. Yet he may be and that’s between him and God. He may have repented of his sins before he died.

I’ve made some pretty awful mistakes (sins) in life. I’ve hurt people. What if they don’t want me to be in heaven when they get there? What if God listened to us and made his decisions about their eternal destination based on what we want? I might not be welcome. God knows our hearts in ways no one else can. I’m glad he’s the one who has the final say about my eternal home.

I choose to obey him in this area too. When I struggle with a desire to punish those who’ve sinned against me, I ask God to fix that shortcoming in me.

Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord.                     Romans 12:19

What’s In a Name?

I’ve always been fascinated with names.

When I was a little girl, I went through a period of time when I asked my mom to call me by a different name each week. I love my name. It’s been a bit awkward through the years as people assume I’m Latina and a fluent Spanish speaker. This often occurs in telephone conversations. It happens less frequently in person as I’m not Latina and don’t look Latina.

I remember when my brother decided he needed to be called Doug instead of Dougie (his name is Douglas). It was a matter of him needing his name to match his level of maturity. It was hard to switch, but I worked at it diligently as I wanted to show him respect.

I remember another time teasing my little sister Rhonda about her middle name. She was named after our Aunt Ellen and at the moment we thought Aunt Ellen was mean for disciplining us. “Rhonda Ellen Jones, Rhonda Ellen Jones” we chanted again and again, while she pleaded for us to stop.

My mother and I share the same middle name, Sue. I love that I’m named after her. Today, I have a niece and a granddaughter who are also named after myself and my mom.

I’ve heard surnames I would change if they were mine: Roach, Hiscock (or any variation with cock in it), Peanisbreath, Butt, Goodenough, etcetera. I’ve also heard first names which made me think the person’s mother didn’t love them: at the top of that list is Vagina (pronounced Va.jean.uh…right).

Parents, be good to your kids before they even arrive, think through what you name them.  Think about the acronym the first letters of your child’s name will spell. If your last name is Smith, don’t name your baby girl Amanda Sue! Be careful, even a presidential name like Bush can become problematic when combined with the wrong first name, like Vagina!

When I was naming my sons, I wanted them to have choices. I chose unusual first names and common middle names, so they could decide what they preferred. My oldest went by Fergus until the first grade, then switched to Anthony, then back to Fergus when he enrolled in college, his Aunt Tammi still calls him Anthony.

Fergus helped me choose Samson’s middle name.  He was a Ninja Turtle fan, so he wanted Donatello.  We compromised with Donald.  Samson decided he wanted a completely different name altogether and began using a nickname his friends chose for him.

Names mean something.  Throughout the Bible the meanings of names are given and there are many times when a person’s name is changed after they make a fundamental change.  The bible says Christians will be given a white stone with a new name on it. I’m looking forward to it, as I believe it will mark a fundamental change in who I’m going to be for the rest of eternity.

“Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give that person a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to the one who receives it.”               Revelation 2:17

Dishing Some Dirt About Myself

I’m a gossip. A tittle-tattler. A meddler.

My definition of gossip is now talking about someone when that person is not present in the conversation. The intent of the person talking has no bearing on whether or not it’s gossip.

Something had to change.

I talked to God about it and confessed it as sin. I asked Him to help me stop since it was a lifetime habit and I didn’t even know how to begin to change. I talked to my sponsor and 12 step friends about it. After decades of gossip, I knew I couldn’t possibly locate and make amends to all the people I’d talked about behind their backs. I decided to focus on the people I was most likely to continue to gossip about or with.

This is how gossip, typically, played out in my life. I have a loving mother and three siblings she gave birth to in my life. My Mom is Peony. My brother is Adam. My sisters are Tammi and Rhonda. I have a plethora of extended family. Tammi and I would be at Peony’s and we would end up talking about problems Adam was facing and how he could resolve them. Adam wasn’t present. Rhonda and I would go out to lunch and end up talking about problems Mom was facing and how she could resolve them. Mom wasn’t present. Rarely did I go to the person for whom we were brainstorming solutions to share our ideas with them.

I spoke with Mom, Adam, Tammi, and Rhonda. I spoke with my sons, Fergus and Samson. I explained to each of them that I had realized I’m a gossip and I was determined to change. I confessed I had gossiped about each of them. I apologized for being disrespectful both in gossiping about them and in thinking I could solve their problems or even needed to solve them. I told them, going forward, I would not be speaking about them unless they’re present.

It was awkward at first. What do you talk about when you’ve always talked about other people you both know when you get together? Well, you eventually start talking about yourselves. You share more deeply than you ever have before if the person you’re talking to is someone you care about and are safe with. Some family members were offended. Some were hurt. Some were glad I’d finally figured this out about myself.

It is something I still struggle with a bit. Sometimes my unwillingness to gossip is viewed as disrespectful to the person who wants me to tell them details about another person’s life. Sometimes it’s viewed as denial or keeping secrets. Relationships are complicated. My interactions with a loved one may affect me so deeply that I need to discuss it with someone else, now I talk to a 12 step friend rather than another loved one. Sometimes it’s unavoidable: a discussion between two family members must be had when a third family member is incapacitated by health.

I try to follow a few guidelines:

1) Don’t talk about the person if they’re not there.

2) Don’t share someone else’s story.

3) Choose a couple of  non-relatives who are safe to run things past. 

4) Ask myself, “What’s Your Motive?”

5) Direct the person asking for detail about someone else to speak to the someone else directly.

My two sons, Fergus and Samson, are examples of the opposite extremes people feel about the details of their lives being shared by others. Perfectly natural to ask a sibling about their children. Right? I have 10 nieces and nephews. It’s much easier to ask 3 siblings for updates on their children, than to contact the 10 nieces and nephews. It also conveys to the sibling that I love them, and I love their children. Right? My son Fergus could care less if you talk about him. If he’s having successes, he wants his family to celebrate with him. If he’s having problems, he wants our prayers. My son Samson is the opposite, he doesn’t want to be talked about whether it’s good or bad. Period. He is highly offended when he discovers someone has talked about him. Neither is right or wrong, it’s just their preference. I do my best to respect their wishes.

Today, my relationships with the people I love are more honest and respectful.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the subject of gossip!

I Couldn’t Have Imagined This!

Thank You Father God!  With one plan, You’re blessing me, my nephews, my husband, my parents, and my brother and I’m sure the blessings spread beyond what I’ll ever know. 

It’s been a week and a half since I started coaching my nephews.  They’re 7 and 10 and were not succeeding in a traditional brick and mortar school.  I’m not here to bash teachers, there are good and bad apples in every barrel, but our education system is broken. 

I’d moved back to my hometown and was happily married.  My husband and I were attending a vibrant church with a loving Celebrate Recovery program.  I was working in child protection and we had more than adequate income and good health insurance coverage.  My husband was teaching me to hunt and I’d discovered it was fun to share his passion and I was reasonably good at it.  I envisioned us spending the rest of our lives loving each other, family, and forever family (fellow Christians).  I thought I was going to work right up to retirement.  All I wanted was God’s will for my life and I was asking him for a different job. 

The vertigo came on suddenly, taking me by surprise.  At first, I was just frustrated (I hate to be sick, period.)  I thought I’d be back to normal in a few days.  That hasn’t happened.  My health is preventing me from working and has basically turned me into a shut in.  I hate it.  I have no income.  I had to give up my position with the state because I couldn’t pay the health insurance premiums.  I can’t do normal things like house cleaning, grocery shopping, and personal care like I used to do; I have to find ways to accomplish these things with the help of family.  I felt like I wasn’t contributing to society.   

Because I haven’t been able to work for four months, the idea that I might serve as a Learning Coach appealed to me.  I was concerned I wouldn’t be able to do it, physically.  I want to be reliable.  After much prayer, much talk with my mother, and much research, I decided to commit to trying it out. 

Whoo boy!  My nephews are delivered to my home four mornings a week.  (I can’t drive right now.)  They’re always smiling and happy to arrive.  They each have a laptop and a seat at my dining room table and I sit between them while they do their online classes.  (Movement is a trigger.)  I clarify what needs to be done, answer questions, and try to keep them on task.  We eat a light, easy lunch:  sandwiches, pizza, leftovers, etc.  They don’t seem to notice when my symptoms get bad.  I hold still when I can, wall walk when I have to, lie down briefly when needed, and smile.  So far, so good.    

I’m blessed.  I get to contribute.  Even better than that, I get to spend time getting to know these marvelous young men.  I get to experience a wide range of emotions, including love (the younger nephew loves to hug and tell me he loves me, so sweet!), amusement (oh my gosh, they’re funny and the older nephew is exploring his gift of humor and testing what makes people laugh), boredom (yes, there are those moments when they’re both engaged in their lessons and I’ve nothing to do but wait), frustration (why can’t I find what I need easily on the school’s website?), fearful (can I handle this?), exhausted (sometimes I almost fall asleep during breaks and I’m not as productive on the weekends), grouchy (side effect of health issues and I try to keep it to myself), joyful (I love these guys!), optimistic and proud (it’s an amazing feeling when you realize they got a concept they were struggling with or are learning how to be students).  

My nephews are blessed to be taking online classes with teachers that are assigned to them, using technology to learn in a world that is technology-driven, with an aunt who loves them sitting next to them giving them tons of attention and love, and a family who loves them and works together to give them the best we can.   

In just a week and a half, I’ve been so challenged and I’ve learned so much about my nephews, my family, teachers, and myself.  I can’t wait to find out what will happen next!

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”                                    Ephesians 3:20

I Resemble These People…and I Like Them

A friend lovingly suggested I might be a codependent and that I might want to try out a 12 Step Program.  I was furious!  How impertinent for her to say I had a problem!  I didn’t have a problem!!  I was in the process of divorcing husband #3 and already dating a new person.  Husband #3 and I had been married 15 years.  I wasn’t happy, not for most of the 15 years.  He was the problem, not I.  I believed I had a faulty “picker” at worst.

It was several years before I had my first 12 Step experience.  My marriage to husband #4 was falling apart.  I had tried everything I could think of to make it work.  My husband continued to drink, gamble and smoke meth. 

I went to my first meeting.  I thought it seemed like they might be a cult; however, I heard something I liked and kept going back.  I started off thinking there was something wrong with the people I met in the meetings.  I went back for weeks, perhaps even months.  I realized I had a lot in common with these people.  I could learn a lot from them.  All of a sudden, I had an epiphany, the people in these meeting were kind, loving people who were making a lot of mistakes but ultimately intended good for their loves ones.  They were nice people! 

I was a nice person too!  I had made a lot of mistakes throughout my life but not because I was bad, unlovable, or trying to hurt someone.  I needed new tools and thinking.

Soon, I was attending more than seven meetings each week.  I spent time with my fellow 12 Steppers and got to know and love many of them.  I was listening and learning.  I began applying and my life started to improve.   

If you need help, I encourage you to see out a 12 step program.  There are many and they are not all alike.  Each group has it’s own “feel” or “flavor” if you will.  I recommend giving each one you try 3 visits so you have a really good idea of whether or not it’s a “flavor” you like.  Try different meetings within the same group umbrella as not all meetings are healthy. 

If you want change, if you need change, if you’re desperate (I was); practice what you’re hearing when it sounds like it might work and keep going back until you receive a miraculous change in your thinking and behaviors. 

I have been transformed.  I have to say thank you, thank you, thank you to God, my Higher Power!