I’m a Survivor, but I don’t want to be

I am moving on and realizing that this has to be a conscious decision.  Since the age of 10 I have been in survival mode.  Worried about the future but all I can focus on is this moment.  Constantly sprinting forward running from the past that haunts me, striving for a future that was always just out of my grasp.

I have decided it is time that I  “throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” Hebrews 12:1.  This race will require perseverance and the prize is not the hill tops I used to desperately seek after.  Instead the prize is to grower closer to Christ every day and enjoy His presence in the monotony  of life.

When I started this journey, I remember one day laying down on my bed sobbing for God to help me understand.  He gave me a story I call my safe place.  Many times I have felt the last sentence resonate with me.  Never more than I do now.

I whispered “I’m scared”. He said “I know, its okay, take my hand and I will show you the way”.

The old is gone!

I think it is about time for me to let this anger go, completely and fully.  So starting today I am praying for the salvation of my dad.  What is that you say?  Big deal? BIG DEAL?!?  Yes this is a very big deal!  A few days ago, I would have preferred he rot in Hell.  But the Grace of God has been at work in my heart as well as the words of my counselor.  A week ago my counselor mentioned that she didn’t think my dad had ever learned the skills to love me the way that I needed.  So in a way he did the best he could.

This is a hard statement for me to swallow.  Part of me wants to be angry at this, but I have chosen the way of Grace instead.  It is weird to see my dad in this light since I have fed off this anger for so long.  However, as I release this anger my heart begins to ache to see my dad free of his pain. 

Each step I have taken on my spiritual journey with God, has been to remove a scar associated with my relationship with my dad.  What an important responsibility a father has towards his daughter.  He is charged with protecting her, guiding her and teaching her how to be a woman of God.  And most importantly he is her model for what her relationship with her heavenly father should be.  (Wow, what a responsibility...so glad I’m a woman!!)  Most often though the fathers are just men and despite how much they love their daughters they are still sinful creatures.

So what are we to do?  Who is to be that model for us?  In the past I chose any many who would give me momentary acceptance or love.  The new me though, who has been bathed in the love and mercy of Christ, feels content as I am.  The change is my relationship with my heavenly father.  Because I fully trust Him and can see myself as He see me I no longer ‘need’ someone to tell me who I am.   I know who I am and I am fully confident in Him.  I also trust that some day God will introduce to me that man who will encourage me, love me, and push me to become more than I am now.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” 2 Cor 5:17

Round and Round we Go

I am currently learning that life is all about the process.  The day to day struggles, fleeting moments of joy, and the monotony of life.  I hate the process and have always struggled uphill to find the mountain top and get out of the valley.  Today something changed.

A year ago this month God started a life-changing process in me, with one simple phrase.  “Every minute two children are sold into slavery”.  Every minute…every minute??  I remember a year ago as God demolished my heart with this phrase, hearing  the song Hold My Heart by Tenth Avenue North.  Each time I heard it I would sob through the chorus wondering “In this sea of pain, can the maker of the stars really see me?”  “Is He really everything I need Him to be?” After all, the processes of the last 6 years had done nothing but tear away the old, leaving me bare and afraid.

Today I came full circle with this song.  This time as the words left my lips there was no doubt that He would always hold my heart.  No doubt that He is all He says He is and more than I can ever comprehend.  As my Spirit exploded with Joy, I swear I left the car and danced with the King of Kings.

I officially love the process (remind me of this in a couple weeks, or months when He puts me in a another!)  Because of His process I am no longer the scared little girl that I was 7 years ago.  Instead, I am a woman who is confident hat my identity and my worth can only be found in Christ!

Can you hear my heart beating?

Today I had an epiphany.  Well maybe not an epiphany, but a light bulb moment any how!  I LOVE words. 

The harmony they sing as they roll off your lips.  The perfect paring that sings to the depths of your soul.  This love of mine has haunted me for years and I keep missing the train.  Stories, ideas, and random thoughts are continuously rattling around in my brain.  In the past, I have even mustered up the courage to write a few down.  But, never have I chosen to pursued this love of mine.  Until today that is.

I was minding my own business reading a friends blog when this one literally fell into my lap, (Click Here), and I swooned.  Knees buckling, heart pounding, speech dissipating swooning.  I don’t swoon!  I might find something interesting, or even get excited for a moment, but I do not swoon. 

But as the words danced on the page to the rhythm of the writers heart, my heart leapt for joy.  As the honesty in the words sunk into my soul my knees began to quiver.  And so it begins, I have fallen in love with writing. 

As I pursue this love of mine I would love your help!  What are some things you always wondered about? (like why does the Pope wear white…ooh I may have to look that up!)  What about questions you have about being a Christian.  Anything goes, leave me a comment, send me an email!  My pen (or at least my keyboard) is poised…

Why

Why do I find it so hard to write.  The words tumble through my brain.  I close my eyes and the onslaught continues.  I wish I just had an off switch or could punch a small hole in my brain and they would stream out onto the paper.

I have started three blogs in the past week and have many more rumbling around in my head. I find time and time again that as I begin to type, the words dissipate like rain in the desert. 

I feel that God has given me a gift of expressing myself in words, yet so often those words don’t come out. 

Why oh why will they just not flow!?!?