To Mom, with love

I know I said that I was done posting here, but an unexpected thing happened.  My mother passed away.  It reminds me very much of another sexual abuse survivor that I met through this blog.  I keep thinking of her, and thanking God for placing her in my life.  For her vulnerable sharing, and my marveling at her healing and restoration journey with her mother in the final months of her mother's life.  How unbelievably similar our stories are.

My brother, sister and I had the honor of eulogizing our mother one week ago today...  I share this with you in celebration, as the journey we shared in the final two years was one I'd once believed was hopeless and impossible. 

"What is impossible for people is possible with God."  Luke 18:27.  So grateful for a loving God who can make the impossible, unimaginable, hopeless things happen.

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There are countless stories to share about our mother.  Just about everyone she knew has talked with us about how quickly Mom could throw together a meal, and fry chicken like no one else.  On Sunday, Tonya reached for a bowl at Shanna’s, and the one she grabbed was chipped.  Tonya reached for another, and it was chipped too.  Shanna laughed out loud and said, “Those were Mom’s dishes.”  We’re pretty sure Mom never had a full set of unblemished dishes for more than a week.  She was a little clutzy…  Mom loved parties, adventure, music, old movies, traveling, and the outdoors.  We have so many fond memories of roller skating, riding bikes, scouting, swimming, fishing and picnicking with our mom.  And Antioch Park will always be “our” place.

But more than all of these wonderful times together, Mom gave us an even greater gift. 

It is no secret that Mom’s life had its fair share of pain and turmoil, but we are so proud of how hard she worked in her final years to mend her heart and reconcile relationships with each of her children.  In the last couple of years, Mom made every effort to live intentionally; really taking the time to know each of her children – not just as her children, but as the adults we’d become – and allowing love to be a verb and not just a feeling.  She’d learned how to give of her time and her heart unselfishly, rising to the occasion and mothering her children in ways we’d previously not dared dream of.  She patiently sat through as many difficult discussions as we’d needed, genuinely taking the time to make amends … and allowing us to do the same. 

As her children, our constant hope and prayer was that Mom would arrive at a place of genuine happiness, belonging and peace.  In the end, she found just that!  While her physical body was failing her over the last couple of years, Mom’s heart and emotional well-being was better than ever.  She was surrounded by her children, grandchildren, and Michael.  She delighted in those around her.  She loved well, and was well-loved. 

The reconciliation of our family is a precious gift, and we are overwhelmingly grateful to Mom for being so bold, so brave, and so humble in order that we could become the family we’d hoped for.  The Lord moved in Mom's life – in OUR lives – in mighty ways … and He continues to do so even as we speak and cling to one another.

While our time has been cut short, we will forever cherish every moment we had with Mom.  She will be deeply missed

I think this is good-bye

I think this blog may be coming to a close...  In just a couple of weeks, it will have been three years of writing here about my story and my recovery journey.  Surprisingly - while I don't think the wounds ever mend completely - I am finding myself in a place where I just don't have much to process through aloud anymore.

It seems that the last piece of my recovery puzzle is falling into place...

As I grow in grace and mercy, my intolerance [anger] for my family's shortcomings are becoming grey areas ... instead of the harsh black and white it's always been.  As I've become willing to really listen to their stories - to sort through and understand the brokenness that has plagued them and [unintentionally] wounded me greatly - I've begun to understand that long before they were ever "screwed up" individuals making bad choices that hurt children, they were heart-broken and wounded children themselves.

So often, abused children develop unhealthy coping skills and skewed visions of the world around them.  And so often they [unwittingly] abuse and neglect their children.  Let's not allow ourselves to fall into that category ... or stay there, if that's where we're at.  Keep reaching for recovery.  Keep seeking the Lord's hand and heart.  He loves you so much.  Wholeness and healing await.  It is a long, scary, painful journey at times ... but it has changed my life.

And allowed me to close this chapter of my recovery story.  For now, anyway.

Thanks to all of you who have read along, commented, emailed, encouraged and prayed for me, and joined me in prayer and ministry for survivors around the world.  This blog is ending [I think], but I will continue to spend my life in ministry with hurting children and adults.  Well, as long as God will let me.  ;0)

Even as I type this second third-to-last sentence, I can hardly believe that God has moved me to this place of utter peace and contentment.  He is a miracle worker.  Praying that He does the same for you.

With much love, gratitude and prayers,
Tonya

For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.  Jeremiah 29:11

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 

The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.  Psalm 34:18

Prayer

Heavenly Father,

Draw us closer to you as we process through the pains of our past...and the pains that continue to burden us today.  Open our eyes.  Show us, in your gentle way, the dreams we need to let go of, the parts we are still denying, the ways we are compensating - yet hurting ourselves, and perhaps even others - at the same time.  Help us to acknowledge the sad facts of what has happened in our lives, shedding your light on the truth, so that we may let go of it and reach - with open arms - for the greatness you have in store for us.

Teach us how to walk towards wholeness.  Hold us close as we see the wrong-thinking, the abuses, the way we've been hurt and the ways we've hurt others...  As we begin to see clearly, equip us with the tools to break free from the bad and walk with confidence towards wholeness -- towards your perfect plan for our lives.  As we make tough decisions, as we repent, as we feel heartbroken...open our eyes in order that we will notice the BLESSINGS.  For you are a great God, our redeemer, the one true healer, the maker of all miracles.  Today, help us to count the ways in which we are richly blessed, deeply loved, forever counted and belonging to you.  I praise you for all that you are....for how you've taken this messed-up orphan and provided a family and a purpose for my life.

In Jesus' name,
Amen

Do you think I would stand still?

A reader presented me with the most amazing question the other day.  I won't pretend to know the answer, but I do have some thoughts...

It is related to this post about why God allows bad things to happen.

Question:  I am having great difficulty with understanding how God could have allowed this abuse. I read your intellectual explanation which I have heard before regarding free will. I believe in free will, but if I witnessed one of my daughters being abused do you think I would stand still?

My thoughts:

In my limited human wisdom, I absolutely would intervene if I knew one of my children was being harmed.  As a mother, I always interject myself into my kids' lives whenever I feel it's necessary.  And God charges me with that responsibility!  It is up to me (just like it was up to my parents) to protect my kids, but in my humanity I can only do so much.  I pray daily for his direction in mothering, so that I am hopefully acting in God's will and not my own.  However, my wisdom and foresight is limited.  God, on the other hand, is all-knowing and sovereign.  His plans are perfect (no matter how unsavory at the time), his provision overwhelming (no matter how lonely I sometimes feel).  God does not fail.  He always triumphs over evil.

Let me interject here to say that I do not believe it is ever GOD'S will for a child to be abused.  That is entirely HUMAN SIN, but God can use even the most heinous acts for his glory.  It is never God's will for a parent to ignore child abuse or knowingly put their child in harms way.  I just mean to say that everything rests in God's hands and He can use every good and bad thing that happens to glorify Him and minister to us -- but we must choose to allow that to happen.

If God had run interference in my abuse, my life would be completely different.

Most obviously, I would not have this ministry.  God would not have used my story of abuse and miraculous restoration to reach others.  He would have spared my one life, but would have left countless others without this resource. 

He might not have cultivated in my heart a constant concern for children in need.  And, without that, my family might not do the advocacy work we do with foster and abused children.  The four hearts that reside under our one roof might be bent towards those in pain.

And most importantly, I don't think I would have the relationship I have today with my heavenly father.  While being abused was no picnic, there is an inexplicable closeness when one wakes up one day and realizes the only thing they have is their savior Jesus Christ.  In having no one else, I learned to cling to Christ like a life preserver in the stormiest seas.

I had a sweet conversation with a girlfriend one night...  She and her husband had relatively charmed childhoods, raised in church, never knowing a day without God and their loving families.  Now in their 30's, they are both looking to claim their relationships with Christ as their own.  They have never fallen flat on their faces, needing Christ to lift them up.  For them, it is often easy to take their easy-breezy lives for granted and forget all about God.  That doesn't happen in my life.  I know full well what it means to speak with my Father God, as I have no other parent to turn to.

As a mom, I do everything I can to protect my children.  But my knowledge is limited.  I do not know what God knows.  I do not know what the future holds.  Only God knows what he's going to use in each of our lives to fulfill his purpose.   I can't put my human limitations and responses on God.  I cannot expect him to behave the way I would.

But his perceived inaction is not proof of an unloving or neglectful god.

At my very first Christian counseling session, I was given some homework...

Read the story of Joseph, Genesis chapters 37-50.  Write down any circumstance of Joseph's that was similar to my own life.  I learned a great deal through this exercise.  Families have been in the business of failure and betrayal since the beginning of time.  One can be grossly mistreated and still come out on top.  God knows how to use all suffering for good.  "You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good.  He brought me to this position so I could save the lives of many people." Genesis 50:20.  How powerful is that?

Another piece of my homework was to claim a life verse.  I couldn't pick just one, so I went with two...  "A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling."  Psalm 68:5 and "The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."  Psalm 34:18.

I am not an orphan.  God is close.  He saves!

Terrible things happen to both good people and bad people...  In fact, everyone will face some sort of tragedy in their lifetime; whether it be crime, illness, death, natural disaster, etc.  When those bad things happen, God is with us and always has a plan to use it to draw us - and others -  closer to Him.

To my anonymous asker, I love your question.  I don't have all the answers and I understand completely if you don't embrace my thoughts...  I do know that God is bigger than me.  He is wiser than any parent.  He knows our every secret and heartache.  He does not stop every bad thing from happening - even when it seems so obvious to us that he should - but He does have a plan to use every bad thing for good.  Our pains are so deep and so personal.  What happened to you is not okay...and it's understandable that you would feel confused, angry, hurt or even betrayed by God.  He is big enough to handle your every thought, so take it to Him in prayer.  Be honest with how you feel, and allow God to reveal himself to you.  His grace and love is sufficient.  Know that I am praying for you as you process through the pain of your past.

“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the Lord.  “And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.  For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways       and my thoughts higher than your thoughts. “The rain and snow come down from the heavens and stay on the ground to water the earth.  They cause the grain to grow, producing seed for the farmer and bread for the hungry.   It is the same with my word.  I send it out, and it always produces fruit.  It will accomplish all I want it to, and it will prosper everywhere I send it.   You will live in joy and peace.  The mountains and hills will burst into song, and the trees of the field will clap their hands!   Where once there were thorns, cypress trees will grow.  Where nettles grew, myrtles will sprout up.  These events will bring great honor to the Lord’s name; they will be an everlasting sign of his power and love.”  Isaiah 55:8-13

Bridging the gap

I am so frustrated.

I have been trying all year to reconnect with my mom and sister.  After our Christmas dinner, I came to the realization that I don't really know them, they definitely do not know me, and I don't trust them.  If we're ever going to have a relationship that's not hollow and irritating, we are going to have to get to know each other.  We need to find common ground.

I have been really intentional about calling my sister weekly, and I've been involved in my mother's medical care for a couple of months now.  I talk, text or email with each of them at least once a week and I've seen my mom several times recently.  (Previously, I'd call a few times a year.)

We had my family over for Easter this past weekend.  It was really pretty lovely; except that I ended up sharing something with my mom that I wasn't quite ready to share.  Because I don't trust her.  Because I don't know her.

Once the words were out of my mouth, there was no putting them back.  She knew.  And she wanted to talk about it.  Initially, her thoughts were all about her.  About how a bitter disappointment and closing of a chapter in my life affected her.  Then her thoughts turned to me...and how I surely need my mother at a time like this.

The thing is...I don't.  I don't need her to mother me in the way she would like to.  Sure, it would be ideal to have a loving, reliable mom, but the truth is that I'm more of a mother to her than she's ever been to me.  And I'm okay with this.

I'm not so okay though with her insisting that surely I must need her the way any daughter needs her mother.  For advice or babysitting, to confide in, to cry to.

(Insert hairs standing up on the back of my neck, quickening of pulse, taking two steps back, feeling smothered by the tight hug that she's insisting on holding for two full minutes.)

I need a minute, Mom.  I need you to understand that this relationship you are ready to dive into as if nothing ever happened is too much to ask.  Unreasonable.  Bad things did happen.  Horrible.  I have never known you to be loving or caring.

I do not trust you.

My impulse is not to lean on you.  Not yet.  You are pushing me away by pushing yourself on me.  I need you to let me come to you as I am ready.  Stop forcing yourself on me.  Stop putting me in a position where I have to say no.

Mom was so convinced that I needed her yesterday (two days after our discussion), that she called me asking if she could leave work early to frantically come to my house to talk.  (She presented it as if she needed to talk.)  I told her I had an appointment in two and a half hours, so my time was quite limited.  She showed up two hours and five minutes later.  She left her work, drove all the way across town, did who knows what for the extra 1 1/2 hours it took her to get here, only to put me in a position to tell her I really didn't have the time anymore.  She insisted though, so we talked.  She left while I went to my appointment, returning to finish our conversation an hour and a half later. 

I was less composed than I wanted to be.  I was frustrated that she was so late, that she didn't call to say she was going to take 2 hours to get here, that she had left her job for this, and that I had a very important meeting that she was now tinkering with.  I was frustrated that when she finally opened her mouth, the words were "I just thought you needed me."

She called it her "Mother's intuition".  I managed to keep my eyes from rolling and my jaw from dropping, but I was thinking, "WHERE WAS YOUR MOTHER'S INTUITION WHEN I TOLD YOU I WAS BEING SEXUALLY ABUSED AND YOU LET IT CONTINUE FOR THE NEXT 7+ YEARS?"  I didn't say that, but I did say other things I wish I hadn't.  I want so badly to let the past remain in the past, but I totally snapped and reminded her of some of the reasons I don't trust her.

I clearly snatched my anger and frustration back up in that moment.  What I have worked so hard to surrender and set aside, I picked right back up when I was feeling pressured.  I felt like I needed to defend my position, and I presented a relentless case.  I beat her into the ground with the ugly (old) truth, giving little recognition for the recent progress she's made.

I am disappointed in myself.

This reconciliation thing is not easy...  Saturday - our family Easter - was a beautifully blessed day that I will forever cherish, but now it seems marred but what happened yesterday.  I know that all my mom wants is to be my mom, and that I hurt her deeply by reminding her of the ways she blew it in the past.

When she looked me in the eyes and said, "I miss you.", it occurred to me that she once knew me as a happy child.  There are good times that she remembers.  A pleasant, loving, cheerful little girl who called her Mommy and asked her to come outside to watch her do cartwheels.  A pre-teen who needed help with homework or wanted a ride to a swim meet across town.  A teenager who asked on occasion for her mother's opinion, or needed gas money.  There are times that she remembers me needing her; and she wants that back.

But I remember the times she failed.  The days-on-end that she was locked in her bedroom depressed.  The times I begged her to drop bad habits but she wouldn't.  All the times she didn't show up when I needed her.  I remember her as a woman who always put herself first.  I remember being alone, unimportant.

There is a huge gap between how she sees me and how I see her, and it will take time, patience and tremendous effort to bridge that gap.

I owe my mom an apology.  I pulled out old baggage that I wish I had left alone.  There is surely a better way to handle the situation.  A way that I can be honest, without being brutal.

I would also like to ask Mom to celebrate the relationship we do have and wait patiently for it to grow.  I am honestly beginning to like her, and trusting her may come in time.  I never expected we'd be here, so who knows where we might end up?  We are headed in the right direction.

Let me not forget you

When marginally icky things happen, I can easily respond with an "Everything's gonna be alright" attitude.  However, when it's more of a bitter blow, my natural response is to panic, get angry, bawl my eyes out or blow my top.  And, when I get angry, I like to give the silent treatment.  Those who most often receive the silent treatment are my husband, God, and occasionally my children.  I need them to know that I am angry, and I need to be silent....lest I say anything aloud that I will later regret.

I heard something today that was very wise.

"When I turn away from God in a difficult circumstance, it only becomes more difficult.  But when I turn back to God, my difficult circumstance becomes easier."

This is so true; but I've often got to be reminded of this the hard way.  I am stubborn and I get angry...and in those moments I refuse to talk to Him or listen to Him as He speaks to me.  In doing so, I drag out my misery.

My wise friend also said...  "Life is not meant to be hard.  It's only as hard as we make it."

We all experience difficulty, and some of us experience gut-wrenching tragedy; but how we choose to respond to it really does impact how hard it is.

I praise God that I know Him and that He is in the business of graciously rescuing and carrying His beloved children.  My friend left me with one final encouragement - pray.  Pray regularly and preemptively that "when I am faced with difficulty, I will not forget who you are."

I meant for this post to be a reminder to not forget God, but I believe it relates to our spouses and children too.  While I am giving the silent treatment to them, I am shutting them out.  They are God's gifts to me.  My husband is my partner that I am meant to journey all of life with.  When I am hurt or angry, I pray that I will not lose sight of who my husband and children are; and that we will live in a way that honors God's perfect design for those relationships.

Not destroyed

I never set out with the intention to write a certain kind of post on here - I just write what's on my mind and in my heart.  Recently, without realizing it, I wrote several posts in a row that depict the really sad consequences of sexual abuse in my life.  If there is someone else out there going through the same things I have (and I know there are!), I want them to know that they are not alone.  And for those who have harmed a child, I want them to know just how far-reaching the devastation can be.  The details are hard to read, but it is a cold hard truth that sexual abuse destroys relationships...and very possibly lives.

I have received the kindest, most compassionate, emails and comments from readers here, in response to those posts.  So many expressing heartfelt sadness over the loss in my life.  I am deeply touched by your heart and concerns toward me.  Humbled to be so tenderly received.  Thank you.  I love the community of survivors.

I want you to know though, that I am not destroyed by what happened to me.  I once was, but I am not anymore.  It is indeed very sad at times.  I think it always will be...  But I am so very good.

I think it's only natural to grieve a loss.  Much like a death of a close family member, I will always grieve the loss of family I loved but can no longer be in relationship with.  However, it is truly for my benefit to not be in relationship with them. 

I am happy.  Honestly, I am way beyond happy.  I never in my wildest dreams thought my life would turn out the way it has.  Happily married.  Mother of two.  No chaos.  At peace with my past.  Finishing my college degree.  Volunteering at church and in my community.  Surrounded by countless loving friends who have become family.  My life is incredibly full.

I have not been defeated.  I am not defined by someone else's sin.  I am not even defined by my own sin!

Praise God for the healing truths found in His Word, the Shelter From the Storm study and groups, trustworthy counselors, wisdom and support of other survivors and cherished friends, and of course my beloved husband and children.  These incomprehensible gifts have changed my life!

Loss

A friend request was waiting for me as I logged onto Facebook last night.  Right away I clicked the "do not know this requestor, block future requests" button, as I didn't think I knew the person.  After about a minute though, it donned on me...  It was my adopted father's step brother.  In my family we've never specified "adopted", "step" or "half" - we were all just FAMILY.  Here I only do it so that readers can have a better chance at following my family tree with branches going in all directions.

My dad was my abuser, and this uncle is his brother.  My dad is a master manipulator and liar to the Nth degree.  I don't know what he told his family - if anything - about his broken relationship with me.  But my policy has always been to never put others in the middle.  Never throw all of the dirty laundry on the family dinner table for everyone else's consumption, judgment, and involvement.

Instead, I've just gone away quietly.  So quietly, and so far away, that I did not even recognize my uncle's name when I read it.  I haven't heard from him in well over 20 years.

As I looked at his friends list, I saw faces and names I hadn't thought about since I was a kid.  My father has four brothers and two sisters.  I had four uncles and two aunts, cousins too, and grandparents...  I loved them.  They seemed to love me.  They never laid a hand on me or said an unkind word in my presence.  They were not your leave-it-to-beaver types - lots of dysfunction for sure, but they never touched me the way my dad did.

I don't have them in my life anymore, and I suspect that I never can again given what my father did.  Their brother.  Their son.  In all likelihood, given the emotional condition of my family, I am guessing they would choose his side.  Perhaps these thoughts only come from my woundedness, the feelings and very low expectations of a little girl whose abuse carried on for years despite the family members who did know and did nothing...  Perhaps they would respond with loving kindness and righteous anger.

My uncle had to search for me on Facebook by name.  I was on his mind.  Did he look for me on his own, or did my father put him up to it?  Having been sexually abused by my father makes me almost paranoid - second guessing the intentions of my uncle.  His brother.  I think I sort of lump all of them together.

As I thought about the extended family that so abruptly fell out of my life all those years ago, I laid on my bed and wept over the loss.  So much loss.

Where do we go from here?

Many people know that I recently celebrated Christmas with my birth family for the first time in ten years.  A handful of friends have asked how it went, but I struggle with my response...  Not sure what to say or how to say it.  There are so many emotions, so many harsh realities, so many things wrong, and even one startling revelation.  When I think about verbalizing our Christmas celebration, the story that comes to mind is not about that one night but about where everything stands.  The words decorum and discretion fill my mind, as I ponder answering their questions completely...  Reminding me that polite people want to hear how the evening went, but very few people want to hear where I think it might take us.  I expect that people from relatively functional families will have their heads spinning as they hear the unsavory dynamics of my family.  Every family has their issues, but issues like ours are kept quiet - they are still taboo dinner fodder.  The issues faced by my family are made for Intervention or Celebrity Rehab or Dr. Phil - shows that people can watch and gasp at in private.

For those polite people who merely want to know about the evening...  It was awkward, but nice.  My mother was beaming, as she sat with her daughters and all of her grand kids for the first time ever.  The cousins played together, just as I remember playing as a child with my cousins.  The menu was simple, and the mood was relaxed.  Conversations easily flowed as we discussed jobs, budding romances and mutual friends.  I felt more connected to my sister and her kids than I had in many years.  I enjoyed seeing the tiny boys that I loved so very much...that are now early teenagers.  And I loved looking into the face of my niece and being reminded of the little sister that I once shared a bedroom and secrets about boys with.

There were also parts that were difficult for me.  Seeing into my sister's life, and knowing some of the brokenness that holds her captive in challenging situations.  Knowing that my nephews and niece have sad holes in their lives...  My heart goes out to them - my sister, her kids, and my mom - and I yearn to make a difference in their lives.  At the same time, I pull back to protect my own.

And I remember my extended family...  Those who offered kind words of encouragement and spent time with me, yet made no move to help me in the ways that I really needed.  To my knowledge, they never tried to give me a solid, loving home.  I felt so abandoned.  I frequently heard that my mother was doing "the best that she could".  The older I got, the angrier that statement made me.  My emotional response was to say that she failed miserably and could have done better.  It wasn't until our family Christmas that those five words finally made sense to me.  As my mother shared that she is bipolar, I understood that she actually had done the best she could without medication.  In a new way, my heart goes out to my mother.  I am grieved by all that she's lost to her mental illness.  And by what it's cost my brother, sister and me.  And my nephews and niece.  And my children.

What do their futures hold?  What is my role?  How can I help?  And how do I get convinced that helping them will not destroy me in the process?

Mental illness

As a young girl, I thought that my mother was very tired and very sickly.  She would sleep from the moment she got home on Friday night and not get up again until time for work on Monday.  Was she sick?  Super tired?  Avoiding me??

She missed a lot of my school functions, and even our church Christmas program every year.  My dad would show up and explain that Mom was "not feeling well".  Having her miss my functions made me cry in grade school, but by middle school I was used to it and didn't expect anyone to show up anymore.

When I was 8 or 9, I remember Dad saying that Mom needed to see a doctor.  I'd suggested that he call my friend's dad (a general practitioner), and Dad replied with "Not that kind of doctor."  He mumbled something about needing to see a doctor about her mind, her thoughts...  I didn't understand.  No one ever explained it to me.

When I was 19 - after watching her moods shift from deliriously happy to unable to get out of bed, and listening to her version of my childhood, her childhood, subsequent marriages, and our home life - it began to dawn on me that something was actually wrong with my mom.  I figured it was one of three options - she was a sociopath, she was mentally ill, or she was just plain mean.

As I was wrapping a very typical "granny" gift for my mom from my boys last week, I remembered something I'd long ago stuffed away...  When I was 14, my dad took my younger sister and me shopping for a gift for Mom.  We picked out a Christmas sweatshirt and some leggings (it was the 80's).  We LOVED it and thought Mom would too.  She didn't.  In fact, as we sat around the beautifully decorated Christmas tree opening gifts, she yelled at us.  I can still hear her saying "Did you really think I would like this?  When have you ever seen me wear something like this?"   On December 26th she took us back to the store to return it and made us hand the cash over to her so she could buy her own gift.  I was forever scarred by that...  I never bought a gift for her again without a specific wish list.

For the last several years I've suspected bipolar...  She has a ton of personal issues to work through, but she is more than just troubled.  Last week, my mom shared with me that she quit counseling in June and that she was diagnosed bipolar a long time ago.  She's taken various antidepressants, but a doctor has never even offered her lithium.  I thought lithium was the most effective way to stabilize the effects of bipolar?

She has seen dozens of counselors and doctors over the years, resulting in diagnoses of PTDS, anxiety, psychological shock, chemical imbalance, depression, and now bipolar.  And every time she walks away from those treating her, and ultimately the meds too.  She has made so much progress over the last couple of years.  I hate to see her get swallowed up again by old thoughts and patterns that continue to chip away at what is left of fragile relationships, her job, her LIFE.  When she is not overcome by the things that plague her, she is wonderful.

I heard the other day that children who are raised in volatile homes have higher incidence of mental illness, drug and alcohol use, depression, anxiety, and low academic achievement.  Looking back over the generations in my family I see this pattern played out over and over again.  It breaks my heart to look out at my extended family and see all of the children who were destroyed by ill parents, and in many cases have become ill themselves and are now caught in the cycle.

I pray for those effected by mental illness.  It is far reaching, for generations and generations.  I pray that we can rise above the circumstances in our childhoods when we have the opportunity, making wiser decisions than those who went before us, and knowing the hope and freedom there is in dealing with our struggles instead of being defined by them.  I pray for comfort for those whose loved ones are slipping away, and for strength and wisdom as we try to help those who need it.  For those who are in the grip of mental illness, I pray for a long enough pause in the turmoil that they will seek treatment and that their doctors would have the wisdom and know-how to treat them effectively.  I pray for an end to the suffering caused by mental illness, and for restoration to become common among families impacted by these devastating diseases.

"May the Lord bless you and keep you."  Numbers 6:24

A family Christmas

Five years ago my mother invited us to Thanksgiving.  I emailed one of my pastors as soon as I received the invitation, heart pounding, hands shaking, seeking his reassurance that I was not sinning if I turned down the offer.  He didn't spoon-feed me the words I was looking for...  Instead, he reminded me that God's natural design was for families to be together, but also affirmed that in no way would God want me to be abused.  With our pastor's guidance, my husband and I established firm boundaries and a solid exit strategy should the Thanksgiving function turn bad.  We were relieved to not need the exit plan.

However...  That was the last time we spent a holiday together.  Heck, that was the last time I was under the same roof as my mother and sister at the same time.  In fact, I haven't even seen my sister in over four years.

I was keenly aware of my growth and healing when I came to my husband last night with this statement:  "We stopped having holidays with my family because it was too upsetting for me - too painful and unhealthy.  That rationale no longer exists, as I'm strong enough now to handle whatever happens and wise enough to know that their issues are not about me."  As we talked, we settled on a very different way of spending Christmas this year.

We are having my mom, sister, nephews and niece over for a Christmas celebration tomorrow night.  I know it's not Christmas Day, nor is it even Christmas Eve, but it's a start.  My children have only met their four cousins twice - very briefly in passing - I cannot imagine them never knowing them.  And, as disconnected and dysfunctional my mother is, she has shown tremendous commitment to getting well, and shows a sincere interest in being a better mother and grandmother.  I know that this time together would mean the world to her.

Truthfully, I do not like my mother or sister very much, but these feelings I have about them are based on things that happened in the distant past, when my sister and I were young and didn't have a lot of life experience (maturity) under our belts.  Of course my mother doesn't have that same excuse, but I believe that wounded people hurt people.  I have grown so very much in the years since we were last together, and I'm eager to see if they have too.  I have no idea where this meal will lead - if anywhere - but I look forward to seeing them and am praying for changed hearts and lives.  It would, indeed, be a Christmas miracle if the overwhelming feeling in the room was love.  I pray for love towards my birth family.  Blessed, relationship changing, opportunity-giving love.

You've been remade!

You Are More
Tenth Avenue North

There's a girl in the corner
With tear stains on her eyes
From the places she's wandered
And the shame she can't hide

She says, "How did I get here?
I'm not who I once was.
And I'm crippled by the fear
That I've fallen too far to love"

But don't you know who you are,
What's been done for you?
Yeah don't you know who you are?

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

Well she tries to believe it
That she's been given new life
But she can't shake the feeling
That it's not true tonight

She knows all the answers
And she's rehearsed all the lines
And so she'll try to do better
But then she's too weak to try

But don't you know who you are?

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

'Cause this is not about what you've done,
But what's been done for you.
This is not about where you've been,
But where your brokenness brings you to

This is not about what you feel,
But what He felt to forgive you,
And what He felt to make you loved.

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

You've been remade
You've been remade.
You've been remade.
You've been remade.

Interview

I have been speaking and writing a lot about sexual abuse on the campus of the college I attend.  I'm a non-traditional student in my later 30's, and I've found that I'm occasionally looked to as a mentor figure, especially by young survivors of childhood abuse.

An 18 year old student approached me last week about doing an interview for a project she is working on.  She has to write a paper about "a local organization or place that people might like to visit".  While she concedes that no one wants to visit a child abuse victims advocacy center, she feels that a tremendous service can be provided by talking about sexual abuse and those who are committed to preventing and responding to it.  She is so awesome!  She has courage, tenacity and composure beyond her years.

I am so honored to be a part of her paper, and I thank her for the opportunity to share...but even more, I thank her for standing in the gap for survivors of sexual abuse and doing her part to make this world a safer place for children.

************************************************

Sexual abuse is so painful - so intimate - that it often isolates survivors from healthy relationships.  Sexual abuse not only violates ones body, but their boundaries, sense of self, and ability to love and trust as well.  All too often, the experience teaches survivors not to trust appropriately, and sets survivors up for a lifetime of excruciating isolation and secret keeping, interrupted by periods of blindly trusting all the wrong people.  This cycle sets in motion a lifetime of repeated victimization.

I am a survivor of sexual abuse.  Abused at the hands of my parents, overlooked and neglected by my entire extended family, I know all too well the pain and isolation accompanied by sexual abuse.  For 29 years I accepted the blame and carried their secrets with me.  It was only when I stood firmly on my own two feet, declared that their crime was indeed a crime and no reflection on me, that I was able to begin moving forward, healing, recovering from what had interrupted my life for far too long.

It is only through breaking the silence - discarding the false beliefs that I was dirty, unlovable trash - that I began taking my first steps into wholeness.  Wholeness is delightful.  I never dared dream life could look this way.  I never believed I could truly be happy, loved, capable, confident, seen and known.  I cannot keep the fact that recovery is possible a secret; therefore, I talk.  I speak to student groups and women's groups, I lead support groups for survivors, I write a blog, my family chairs a fundraiser every year.  I share the facts about sexual abuse, define it, put a face to it, encourage survivors to seek recovery, share tips for keeping children safe, and support organizations whose mission it is to eradicate and respond to child sexual abuse.

One of my favorite organizations is Sunflower House, serving Johnson and Wyandotte Counties, providing abuse prevention classes to adults and children, and meeting the needs of children and families currently processing through a case of child sexual abuse.  Sunflower House provides an environment in which children undergo forensic interviews and medical exams on-site, rather than in police station interview rooms and doctor's offices.  Doctors on-site are able to write prescriptions as needed, and Sunflower House provides gift cards to cover the expense of medications.  Additionally, every child who comes through the door at Sunflower House is able to pick a gift out of the Bear Showcase as a pleasant surprise.  As a young girl who went through "the system" 28 years ago, shuttling between two different police stations and a sterile, grown-up gynecologist's office as a fourth grader, and then again as a teenager, I cannot emphasize enough what a difference Sunflower House makes in this part of the journey.  This serves to make an unbelievably difficult situation gentler.

Sunflower House is making a remarkable difference in the fight to eradicate and respond to child sexual abuse.  It is our honor to chair a fundraiser for them each year, and to spread the great news about their work.

Redemption

"Redemption is not only something that means we get to go to heaven, but something that He is passionate to carry out now, in specific life situations, to make things show His brand of beauty - in which a healed relationship or person can reflect more glory than one who never knew brokenness."  -Kelly Minter, No Other Gods

Praying this for each of us today.  For too many, the abuse has been far-reaching and forever scarring...  Painful beyond what we can verbally express.  Isolating.  Lonely.  Fracturing families.  Robbing of us years and years of our lives...  Through that deep brokenness, healed by God's even deeper-penetrating healing, love, acceptance and provision, may each of our lives reflect more glory than one who never knew brokenness.

Genesis 50:20

One trade off of returning to college this semester was that it wouldn't leave time for me to lead a sexual abuse recovery support group this fall.  I didn't even have to think about the decision to lead or not to lead because it was so completely obvious that I wasn't being called to lead a group right now.

Then my Public Speaking class started.

My teacher slips life lessons into his lectures every single day - most of them themed along the fact that how we talk often conveys "where we've been in life".  Where we've lived, how we've lived, what we've lived through, level of education, financial status...the list goes on.  The lessons are always accompanied with indirect encouragement and the God's honest truth that not one of us is limited by whatever difficulty we are facing.  I marvel at his heart for these young people and his uncanny ability (and willingness) to meet them where they are at in order to help them get to where they want to go.  So many of these kids have high aspirations that can easily become dwarfed by the challenges they are facing.

I knew from day one that I wanted to give a speech or two on something related to sexual abuse.  As I have been watching my teacher in class, I have diligently tried to piece together my first speech.  He has asked for volunteers to go first for the past two classes, and not a single hand has been raised.  After class the other day I went to talk with him about the difficulty I was having narrowing down the information and my heart to a single 5-7 minute speech.  Then he asked me to do something that still has my head spinning...

He wants to give me 10-15 minutes per speech, and he has asked me to give every speech this semester on the topic of sexual abuse.

I can hardly believe it!

I have mulled over my first speech quite a bit and have decided that rather than jump in with a bunch of abuse prevention information (for an informative speech), I would start by sharing my story.  Pinch me.  I get to talk with them about my own experience with poverty, a broken home, an absent birth father, a sexually abusive adopted father, a neglectful mother, feeling orphaned at 18, dropping out of college due to overwhelming loneliness and confusion, utter helplessness and paralyzing insecurity, underage and reckless drinking, destroyed relationships, and countless other unwise decisions that I regret to this day --- all as a result of unaddressed brokenness.  And I get to share the healing that takes place in a solid, loving relationship, with unwavering sobriety and careful attention to other unhealthy coping mechanisms, an unimaginable community of friends, and an honorable heavenly father who fills every hole left behind by not-so-honorable earthly beings.  The purpose of this speech is to persuade them to address past hurts sooner rather than later, saving precious time and allowing life to be restored to them.

Seriously?  I get to do this?  In a college classroom?  And after that, I get to talk about ways to keep kids safe!

God is good.  All the time.

"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

College...your future...within reach

Did you know that fewer than 50% of all high school aged foster children in the United States will graduate from high school?  And only 3% of those kids will graduate from college with their Bachelors Degree?

I was never in foster care, but I should have been.  I was abused and neglected from age 7 into adulthood, but no one did anything about it.  I remained in the family home, and did my best - on my own instincts - to get through school.  Never once did a grown-up encourage me to do my homework, study, apply myself, take the ACT, or apply for college or college financial aid.  I didn't ask for help at school because I was afraid I'd have to explain why I needed their help.  I also never wanted to stand out as an excellent student, because I didn't want to be noticed.  So, I gladly slipped through high school without a single college credit and report cards full of B's and C's - well below my abilities.  I never studied for the ACT and never even looked at my ACT results.  I applied only to the nearest community college where I dropped out with a not-so-stellar GPA. 

You see...  This is where I compare myself to a foster child.  I'd moved out of my mother's home after graduating from high school.  I was suddenly on my own - no support, no experience, no one giving me advice or encouraging me, but also no one abusing me (at least not physically).  I worked full time to pay the rent, and went to school full time.  I still longed for my family, so I kept in touch with them often.  My mother was constantly criticizing, insulting and blaming me for her rotten life.  Every phone call ended with her unkind words followed by her slamming the phone down.  I'd call again a day or so later for more of the same.  Between my jobs, my relationship with my family, and trying to wash my sorrows away in bars, I was distracted from my academics to say the least.

I applied for financial aid that first semester and did not qualify because I had to include my parents' income due to my "minor dependent" status on their income tax return.  Never mind that I was not dependent on them.  Today there are ways around this - exceptions can be made for abuse survivors, emancipated children, etc.  Even if the government turns down your request for aid, the school has discretion to appeal on your behalf if you have extenuating circumstances!  I don't know if these exceptions existed in the early 90's, but I do know that I would never have asked for them if they did.  I did not want people knowing what trash I was.  At least that's how I thought of me - trash.

Flash forward all these years and I know that the abuse was no reflection on me, but had everything to do with them.

I also now regret nearly every decision I made regarding my education.  I wish I would have studied harder.  I wish I would have asked for help.  I wish I would have had the courage and confidence to pay attention at those college fairs at my high school.  I wish I would have allowed myself to dream bigger and believe that dreams can come true.  I wish I would have known that my youth was only the beginning, and that my future was up to me. 

The sky is the limit, not our abuse.  Abuse survivors - and foster children - are capable of absolutely anything.  We are not limited by what someone else did to us.

I am writing this with my younger readers in mind.  Don't blow the immediate opportunities that you are offered to move beyond the tragic circumstances in your life.  Don't wait years for a do-over, when you've got the chance right now to right the wrongs.

I'm getting my academic do-over right now.  Going back to college, having to do some maintenance to my damaged GPA, balancing life as wife and mother with a full course load at college, marveling at the options you have in terms of financial aid that are no longer available to me.  I can't help but smile when I reflect back over my life and see how far I've come, but that doesn't stop me from praying that each of you younger girls will not follow my exact (time, energy and emotion wasting) path.  I pray for earlier healing and success for you!

Girl Thrive is an amazing organization created with teen girls in mind.  Dr. Patti has occasionally visited this blog and even sent me two free copies of her book Invisible Girls.  If you are a teen girl whose life has been shattered by incest, Dr. Patti is here for you.  If you cannot afford to buy her book, send me an email and I'll mail you one of my copies - victoryoversexualabuse@live.com.  But one of the greatest things that Girl Thrive provides is college scholarships to girls age 24 and under who are incest survivors.  Check out her website for more information!  There is a wonderful life awaiting each and every one of us.

"The thief's purpose is to steal and kill and destroy.  My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life."  John 10:10

Counseling with Mom

You might remember my mother asking me if I'd go to a counseling session with her last winter.  It took until mid-May for her to call again, this time with a scheduled appointment on the books.  Coincidentally, it fell on my son's last day of school and we had a conflict during the exact same time slot as the counseling session.  We rescheduled the conflicting appointment and put off end-of-school celebrations for a couple of hours so that I could go meet with my mother and her counselor.

For me, rearranging my schedule around this counseling session is what loving and honoring my mother looked like that day. While she has not "earned" this, God commands it...  Additionally, God has given me - and will continue to give me - far more than I deserve or could ever earn, so who I am to withhold that from my mother?

I was glad that we met with her counselor.  I knew that if she'd gone to meet with me and a counselor of my choosing that it would likely be counter-productive, scary for her, and would quite possibly do more harm than good.

Her counselor made me chuckle a little with her earthy, meditative Dharma style (as in Dharma & Greg), but she is also sharp, fair and committed to helping people get better.  She is not at all the counselor I'd have chosen, but I hope and pray that she has been hand-picked by God for my mother.

When the counselor turned to me and asked what I'd hoped to get out of my relationship with my mother, I honestly didn't know what to say.  In my childlike heart, I wanted to weep and say that all I ever wanted was a loving, care-giving mommy.  At the same time...  In my vast experience of having been there and done a relationship with her, I know that distance has really been best for me.  So long as she is so broken, confused, confusing, irresponsible, hurting, hurtful, blaming, neglecting and denying...it is best for me to keep a healthy distance.

Before she and I can have a relationship, she needs to experience healing in her own life.  Without a degree of healing, she cannot possibly experience genuine, selfless, regret, remorse and repentance for the acts she committed out of her brokenness.  Without healing from her own pain, she will not be able to recognize or take responsibility for the pain she's inflicted upon others.

Since our meeting last week, I have discovered a renewed heart for my mother.  I witnessed first-hand last week some of the craziness of her mind, but I could also see that she is sincere in her desire to be better.  That is a first.

I have always told people that it's never too late to repair a relationship...but I never really thought it would happen for me.  We have a very long way to go, but I feel hopeful.

"As much as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone". Romans 12:18

Unit 7 Lesson 2, Healthy Anger, Part2

Anger is part of God's nature.  The New Testament records that Jesus expressed anger on several occasions.  We can conclude that anger in itself is not bad, but unresolved anger becomes destructive.  Unresolved anger inevitably causes us inner turmoil.  The Bible says in Ephesians 4:26, "Be angry, and yet do not sin" (NASB).  Most of us know how to be angry, but what we need to learn is how to be angry without sinning.

Anger is  apart of God's nature.

How do you feel about that statement?  What effect does the fact that anger is a part of God's nature have on your recovery?

Anger is a signal that God has given us, just as pain is a signal.  Anger tells us that we rae being hurt, that something is wrong, or perhaps that someone is demanding too much.  Sometimes our anger becomes generalized and we us it as a defense.  When you understand the simple dynamics of anger, you see that, as a survivor of abuse, you have been deeply hurt.  Anger would be a natural response.  To remove that anger, you need to acknowledge it.  Hurt may be a residual emotion that you feel even after you have dealt with the anger.  You may express your anger in sudden outbursts, or you may reveal it in passive ways such as isolation or depression.  If you have displayed your anger in unproductive ways, you will probably retain that anger until you can learn how to release it positively, and use it to find out more about yourself instead of lashing out against yourself and others. 

Anger is a surface emotion.  Underneath the anger you will usually find other feelings that also need expression.

In your journal, write the feeling words that create the greatest emotional response...

Hurt     Rejection     Shame     Used     Humiliation     Alone     Unimportant

You may be using you ranger to protect yourself from feeling humiliated, used or hurt.  To feel anger is less painful than to feel the underlying emotion.

When you have been rejected, humiliated, used or when you have been hurt mentally, physically, or emotionally, the normal response is to become angry.  A young woman who had been a child victim of sexual abuse described how rejected and humiliated she felt as a young girl when the police came to her house.  She said, "I had been walking home from school when a man approached who said he would give me candy.  I never got candy, even though I went to the woods with him.  He raped me.  I was so sore, and blood was all over me.  He tore my dress.  A woman had seen me go with him, but it was over so quickly.  My mother got real mad at me and kept saying, "How could you be so stupid as to go anywhere with a stranger?"  With tha tstatement, my mother gave me a good weapon to punish myself.  I was so confused.  I didn't think anything could feel worse than what he did to me, but this was worse.  I thought, She's right, my mom's right.  Why did I go into the woods?  I was stupid.  I hate myself."

Because we have trained ourselves not to feel our emotions, sometimes we can more easily feel angry about the ause that happened to someone else.  In your journal, describe your feelings about what happened to the little girl you just read about.

Describe your feelings about the fact that the victim was blamed for the abuse.

Is your story similar to the story of the little girl?  Explain.

When Bill read the story it reminded him of how his father had shamed him because of the abuse he suffered from an aunt.  He was finally able to be angry at his father for not listening to him and understanding.

How is your story different?

You need to allow yourself to feel your anger about your abuse and about the way others reacted to your abuse.

Note the following methods you have been using to deal with your anger.

I suppress it.
I have sudden outbursts.
I have become depressed.
I turn it inward through self-hate.
I act out in passive-aggressive ways.
I am self-destructive.
Other...

None of the methods listed above are healthy expressions of anger.  Acknowledging that you are angry, validating your own significance, and focusing your anger on the abuse are healthy ways to deal with your anger.

Describe your feelings about how others have reacted to your abuse.

Jim had panic attacks when he thought someone needed something from him.  He discovered the source of those attacks.  He had never allowed himself to be angry at the soccer coach who sexually abused him.  Jim hated what the coach did to him in the locker room but craved the coach's praise on the field.  Jim was also angry at himself for wanting the praise.  Sexual abuse often puts the victim in a double-bind situation.

Remember your memory verse.

"Be angry, and yet do not sin."  Ephesians 4:26

Your anger is not a sin.  To feel angry when others take advantage of you is healthy and normal.  As you feel your anger you can deal with it in appropriate ways.  Then you will use less of the destructive ways mentioned above.

"I want to punch them"

Out of the blue, my 6 1/2 year old son says, "Hey, Mom, do you ever want to talk to your dads?"  Having no idea where this came from or where it was headed, I gently answered, "No, not really."  He replied, "Really?  Never?  You never want to talk to your dads?  You never wonder what they're doing and want to talk to them?"  My husband was driving, so I was able to turn my head enough to make eye contact and explain again... 

"My first dad abandoned me when I was a baby.  I found him when I was 26 and spent a weekend with him at his mom's house.  After that weekend, I called him a lot, and sent mail and email and he never responded.  He didn't want anything to do with me.  He doesn't love me like a Daddy should, so I've had to move on with my life without him.  My second dad adopted me when I was really young, but he didn't treat me right.  He abused me terribly and touched my body in ways that no child should ever be touched...  I told my mom about it when I was eight years old, but she never made him stop.  The abuse lasted until I was old enough to make it stop myself at age 15 1/2, and then a judge told him when I was 16 that he couldn't see me anymore and he told me that I was freed from his abuse.  The touching hurt my body, but more than that, the way my mom and dads treated me hurt my feelings and my heart.  I carried that pain with me every single day until I was almost 30 years old, when God really started to help me feel better.  To this day, my mom and my second dad won't take responsibility for what they did, and sometimes my mother even says it was all my fault.  They don't love me the way a Mommy or Daddy should, so I don't really ever think about wanting to call them just to chat."

I was not teary-eyed or angry as I spoke...  I was calm, truthful and reassuring to him that these are things that his Mommy and Daddy would never, ever do.  When I stopped talking, he replied, "I want to punch them."

I had to turn away then, because my eyes were immediately filled with tears.  This was only the second time anyone ever expressed anger over what happened to me.  The first was my husband...  God really blessed me with my husband and sons.  They really know how to wrap their arms and hearts around me and love me into wholeness.

As I quietly cried, my husband jumped in and talked with our sons about forgiveness and surrendering everything - good and bad - to God.  Isn't it amazing how God provides, day in and day out?  He never leaves us or forsakes us.  He has, without question, provided my guys to me as a gift.  They help me to recover more every day.

"Dear friends, never take revenge. Leave that to the righteous anger of God. For the Scriptures say, "I will take revenge; I will pay them back," says the LORD." Romans 12:19

It is sad ... but God's got a plan

My feelings fluctuate as I grow, recover and get to know myself more deeply.  I am humbled by God's care and concern.  I am immensely grateful to be an ever-changing, ever-healing person.  I cannot put words to how it feels to know God's provision the way that I do.

But that does not always keep grief at bay.

For years my overwhelming feelings were anger, bitterness and rejection.  I felt grief for the first time four years ago.  It was freeing; comforting.  I was able to feel grief because I was finally able to see, believe and process the losses in my life.  Feeling grief involved recognizing that I was worthy.  That I deserved more than the treatment I received from my parents.

Ever since that day four years ago, grief  has been an occasional visitor.  It most often comes when I marvel at something that my children have that I did not.  You know - things as simple as childhood vacations or parents who volunteer in class.  My grief is generally a fleeting emotion, but there just the same.

Grief is visiting right now.

My teen years were spent formulating an escape plan.  I had to get out of my mother's abusive home the moment I graduated from high school.  For a few years, I bounced between living arrangements with friends, worked several part time jobs at once, and full time jobs at other times.  I went to college part time, and some semesters not at all.

I found myself completely unprepared to succeed in college.  I was unable to focus on my studies.  I lacked the self-esteem to be a motivated, self-starter.  Paying rent was my top priority and I knew nothing about grants or scholarships.  I didn't trust the idea of asking for help, as asking for help had failed me before.  I had the smarts for day-to-day survival, but did not know how to be an ambitious college student.

I left college with no degree.  It didn't matter to me at the time, but 16 years later it's a little crushing.

It didn't matter back then because all I wanted was to be a wife and mother.  I didn't care about a career.  If I'm being completely honest, I didn't think I had anything to offer professionally.  I knew I could be a good wife and mother - just do the opposite of my parents - but my image of myself said that I couldn't possibly contribute to anything professionally.  I was just trash.

I'm almost 36 now, married and raising two little boys...  I'm also trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up!  I want to do something I care about.  Work with abused children, or in child abuse prevention, or do fundraising for a worthwhile non-profit.  These jobs require a degree; a Masters in some cases.  So, my mind is completely overwhelmed with ideas of how to return to college.  I'm more than a little out of practice when it comes to the classroom!  And how do I fit college into my already busy life with two young children, volunteer work at school and church, a home to keep up and a husband that I want to spend time with?

As these thoughts have coursed through my brain over the last few months, I have fought back a few grief-filled tears.  Sexual abuse not only pierces a person's body, but their mind and heart as well.  Their life.  You wouldn't be reading this if you didn't already know that...  It's just so profoundly sad what childhood abuse can take away from a person.

I wouldn't change my life for anything...  If I wasn't a wreck as a young girl, I might have made drastically different decisions and ended up in a completely different place than where I'm at.  And I love where I'm at.  I love my husband and kids and pretty much everything about our lives.  I'm happy.

But, still, the suffering of children, young adults and grown men and women everywhere breaks my heart.  Sexual abuse has the power to collide with and destroy every aspect of a person's life.

As I ponder that fact, my mind goes to children around the world, waiting in foster care or orphanages for forever families to love and care for them.  These are children who have already been removed from their family's care, and often from their family's minds.  These children have the odds stacked against them.  They have every reason to struggle and fail as they move into adulthood; feeling abandoned, unloved and unworthy.  I pray for their healing and restoration.  I pray for loving families to intervene and give them their lives back.

It is not an overstatement to say that the losses caused by childhood abuse are profoundly sad.  They are.  But, I also know first hand that God is always present and in the middle of all things.  He loves every single one of us.  We were all made special and with a purpose.  And He provides hope and healing.

"Even though you planned evil against me, God planned good to come out of it. This was to keep many people alive, as he is doing now." Genesis 50:20

Read Genesis chapters 37-50 for more from God's word about a family's betrayal and God's perfect provision and plan.  Do you see any parallels between your life and Joseph's?  Do you see God's hand?