Barefoot, Brave, and Bold

It’s a funny thing… I’ve gained several followers since I took a break from posting. I miss you all and I DO miss writing AND YET… I’m doing what I know I’m supposed to be doing.

I’ve become more organized since becoming employed again. I also find it strange and interesting that my balance has improved since then. Also, my brain is firing in ways it hasn’t fired in 10 years and that’s actually a really good thing. I’m able to manage multiple issues somewhat simultaneously now. That wasn’t as common during my slower living days the last few years! Ha! And I absolutely love what I do, though it is very challenging and quite consuming.

My dedication and love for women who have gone through the struggle of abuse, trauma, and many times divorce still exist in my heart. And the ministry I’m involved with now is equally dear.

I hope to pop in from time to time and write here, but it probably won’t be daily for quite a long time. Know that I very much still care about the struggles and pain and I also absolutely believe in healing from abuse. I’m a living example of that and you can be one too!

ANNOUNCEMENT-
Dear followers,
I want to let you know that I have recently accepted a position with a local ministry and am so excited to follow God’s leading and to guide the already well established ministry / outreach into the next years.

For the last 6 years, I have been such a blessed grandma, charged (gratefully) with caring for my granddaughters. Now they are in school and we are all transitioning. I really had not planned to return to work (it is a paid position) and I’ve been “retired “ for 6+ years…. but God had other plans… and I’m on board! The fact that it is with a ministry dear to my heart, is such a blessing. God is always writing our chapters, even when we aren’t aware of it until much later.

So…. I am going to suspend writing here for a time. There are a couple reasons.

1) I’m going to be super involved in learning so many things (people, policies, budget and more) quickly in order to be a knowledgeable leader.

2) Very willingly, I’m reducing my presence on Social media. As a representative/ face of this organization, I want to focus on that and it is also my obligation to represent views accurately of that organization (which I do personally agree with). I feel that stepping away from writing online is a prudent thing to do to honor my commitment.

I am NOT planning to delete this page… and please feel free to reach out to me privately if you’d like… just know it might be a slower response time. I will still share some things but will be finding my footing in a new arena for the upcoming near future.

I appreciate ALL of you. I continue to pray that you find peace and JOY in your healing journeys. It is absolutely possible, in spite of the struggles so many of us have endured.

Lysa is a favorite of mine. She ministers to me and I hope these words encourage you.

💗🩵💜

Oomph, I find this so comforting, because the Bible never hid the mess. People doubted. Ran. Failed. Fell apart. Made terrible choices and had moments where their faith looked anything but impressive.

And still, God stayed.

Goodness, that changes how I read my own messy story too.

“Though I have fallen, I will rise. Though I sit in darkness, the Lord will be my light.” -Micah 7:8

- Little Sparrow Loved

littlesparrowloved.com

Oddly, (or perhaps not-so-oddly) September is my second favorite month, only behind October. There are so many “dates on the calendar” in both months… dates that shaped me, scarred me and terrified me.  Some beautiful events occurred in those months, too. Today, I’m just going to write about one of the dates that September has etched into me.

On September 5th, 39 years ago, I donned a white dress and walked down the aisle of a Lutheran church. Some divorced women continue to cherish the memory of their wedding day. I’m really not one of them. When I’m fully honest with myself, I knew even then that I was making a mistake. That proved to be the case. I have written before, I really only have one cherished memory from that day…. One of the songs… “Morning Has Broken.” I adore it to this day, especially the Cat Stevens’ version.

Also, on that date 2 years ago , I launched this page. I’ve been able to fulfill a lifelong dream of writing from inside a deep place with rawness and honesty. It has been truly gratifying.

Both of my sons were in serious accidents in Septembers of the past. My youngest was severely burned in a motorcycle accident on Sept 20, 2015. The aftermath was grueling and I’ve written about it before, on this page. And my older son, Nick, escaped serious injury in an accident he should not have survived on September 5th (there’s that date again), 3 years ago.

Nick had just come home from Men’s Encounter and he was deeply touched and changed there… and he has walked the Truth he learned there since that day. Five days later, he awoke in the hospital, knowing nothing of what had happened to him, due to a deep concussion.  Miraculously, after rolling probably multiple times in a farm truck (old, without seatbelts) he crawled out of a space so small that a child would barely fit through. The attached photo shows… the cab was CRUSHED.

He still had his phone (another miracle), and called 911 (we just know that because they got the call, not because he remembers it). At some point, he called me… twice, telling me the same thing both times. “I’ve been in a wreck. I don’t know where I am.” When asked if he’d called 911, he “wasn’t sure.” Yes, I was terrified. I prayed for him to be found… and to survive what appeared to be ominous. I’d received this kind of call before, and to be honest… that one (with younger son) was much worse than I’d imagined.

This time, what appeared horribly injurious, was a week long concussion recuperation at home… and otherwise, no lasting physical mark. The timing of the event, right after his life-altering “encounter with God” affected him… and me… and many others in profound ways. He has since dedicated himself to bringing others along with him, to faith.

I am beyond grateful that both my boys were spared on these September days. Thank You, God!

Something I’ve brought up before, but feel I should address every once in a while…. I’m highly “pro-marriage” and definitely not “pro-divorce.” This is in spite of the fact that I support primarily divorced women… and am one myself. So what’s the deal? Perhaps it sounds confusing… and being candid, it used to be confusing to me too.

Marriage was given as a gift by God with certain instructions. Men were instructed to love their wives as Christ loves the Church and women to respect their husbands. When two flawed humans join in a marriage, perfection can’t be expected and shouldn’t be. It can be hard, a struggle at times and even a disappointment from time to time. Because the two are partners, they are designed to stand together as they face hardships coming at them from various directions.

What marriage was not intended to be was mere survival for years on end. The source of pain we naturally experience in life, shouldn’t be coming year after year FROM the person who vowed their love to us. The hardest part of our lives, consistently shouldn’t be because of behaviors and words from our spouse.

I AM pro marriage
…. And pro safety (physical, emotional)
…. And pro connection
…. And pro “not not having to think about escaping abuse
…. And pro understanding instead of battling

I don’t celebrate… ever… the concept of divorce though I’ve celebrated some women choosing safety. I celebrate myself choosing safety and a whole new life that showed me I am loved and chosen by God.

In a perfect world, divorce would not be necessary. In a fallen world, many people have learned how to, TOGETHER , love and respect one another. It always takes both. I applaud them. Other times, one or both can’t / don’t find that path, causing grave harm and brokenness. It is then that we go to the one who does love and choose us… the One who restores brokenness.

Before school started, a couple “mom friends” and I took our 6 girls for an outing. To be clear, I’m the “grandma friend” of the bunch… considerably older than the other 2, who are the moms.

We took them to a splash pad where they ran wildly in the spraying water, laughing. Of the six, only one brought a toy of any kind… a little 2” metal car. The six of them took turns sending that car blazing through fountains of water and watched it fly and land back on the cement. Eventually, they all laid their towels beside the splash pad and sun-bathed… about 15 minutes, their little bodies resting from their play.

Six little girls, all just a week from entering pre-school, kindergarten or 1st grade. A carefree summer day and a new horizon for each. Though excited about school, they (or we, the parents/ grands) can hardly imagine all the next nine months will bring.

After the splash pad, we jaunted over to the Dairy Queen. Ice cream!! They ate and chatted at a “kid’s table” while we adults sat at the one next to them, giving them just a bit of independence.

The photo was taken as we left, tummies full of sweetness, friendships celebrated, water soothing them on a hot day. I look at this and see them walking, hand-in-hand toward their futures. May they always have some friends to walk beside, some joy to spill over and a future of hope. May God bless and protect them always, on their way. May He do the same for your beloved children and grands.

When I backed out of my driveway on an October morning, 2017 there is no way I’d have believed these words (in the photo). I wasn’t really expecting or even hoping for good things…. I was just wanting some of the bad aspects of my life to cease. Truthfully, I just wanted to breathe a fully inhaled breath and let it go. My desires for the future weren’t monumental… just wanted to survive.

As the first months crept forward, I felt relief to live in a peaceful, quiet place but I did start to “want more.” That was a double-edged sword. While it planted seeds of hope, it also shined a glaring light on my reality. That reality was that I was living in a “borrowed” home (from my church), with an income of $615 a month and no idea how or when that would change. I was disabled from PTSD and severe joint pain, but was in year 2 of waiting for any disability income. I was alone, which at the time felt lonely even though safer than sharing a space with my husband.

One of my children was highly distressed by my move away from his dad and not talking to me. My little companion Kenzie, a silver miniature schnauzer was fading in health. Several long-term friendships weren’t faring well in the wake of my decision to leave.

There were many hard months ahead of me.

But God…..

Still had a plan for my life (Jer. 29:11) and my best days truly were ahead of me, despite my foggy vision. Since that time, there has been more joy than I could imagine. Restoration, improved health, old relationship restored, new ones built. A darling, homey abode. Yeah, even income.

AND… Grandchildren!

Life would unfold in ways that I couldn’t even dream or hope for…. And I was 59 years old. Maybe if you’re in that early hard, sad place I can’t convince you that there is still beauty in front of you. But I surely hope I can give you a glimmer of it…. I hope you can find a mustard seed of faith and a dab of hope.

After an arduous time of healing, I knew I was to reach out to other women who had experienced marriages which were abusive, hurtful and oppressive. To say that God has given me a “front-row seat” to other women’s rocky paths isn’t an exaggeration… and it’s definitely not said with any disrespect.

I’ve seen marriages that were/are like mine. I’ve seen some way worse than mine. I’ve seen marriages with infidelity and a few with physical violence (though emotional abuse has been much more common). I’ve seen the women left in the aftermath, dazed. Some barely functioning…. And having been a nearly non-functional divorcee myself, I haven’t been intimidated by that.

I always find myself wanting them to have something which isn’t mine to give… peace. And at the same time, I know that is unlikely to come quickly… many more steps demand to be taken before peace will come. Over time I learned many strategies for dealing with my own grief but ultimately, the thing I wanted was… the same, exact thing… peace in my soul. I couldn’t manufacture it for myself and I can’t give it to others. I can only point in the direction I know it can be found.

All I can really do is tell them that much of my story was like theirs… crushing, confusing and seemingly as long as an endless night. I can tell them it’s acceptable to grieve and that two things can be done at once…. ache and heal. I can tell them what I learned from wonderful authors like Lysa TerKuerst, that our feelings aren’t always reliable but that God is. I can tell them that the more I surrendered, the more peace came.

I can tell them not to ever give up and to keep leaning in, to keep opening their hearts to the God who saw it all and wants to heal them. Real healing. Not a band-aid. Not a tougher skin. Not a bitter heart. He has healed me even more, while walking with them. And so we trod… and sometimes fall… and rise again. We wipe tears. It is my honor to walk along side them, on the way. I may be able to see a bit further down the path than they can, having traveled it already. Let’s walk toward Peace… together.

After I realized that what I’d lived in my marriage really WAS abuse (being intermittent made it harder to determine) and after I received a PTSD diagnosis, I began to work toward two things: escape and healing for myself. In that complex process, I accepted some labels that helped me explain what had happened and what I needed to do.

These were some of the labels and were true at the time:

*Abuse and trauma “survivor” (though I questioned my survival at the beginning)
*wounded
*broken

Yes, my experience of abuse and other tragedies had made me those. And in a different way, living as a human, had also made me those things. Sin in the world create those things for humankind … others’ sins and my own.

About a month ago, I was attending an incredible weekend retreat where I had some real “encounters” with God. One of the directives I heard plain as day… “lay down those labels.” Generally, I’d already quit referring to myself as wounded or broken (from the marriage) but I still clung to “abuse/ trauma survivor.” It seemed so appropriate and descriptive of what happened. Honestly, I was pleased by the healing work I’d done and more than that, grateful to God for His hand in all of it. But it seemed very clear… I wasn’t to refer to myself that way any longer.

Then the new word came to me. Restored. Though I’ve been a Christian many years and as Believers we are told that we are “made new,” it became so clear to me that God had miraculously RESTORED me from the years of marital dysfunction… really, made me new even yet again.

I will still talk about abuse and trauma as I reach out to women. Those words aren’t wrong or even misused for many who have been severely hurt in their marriages. But when one has been RESTORED, it’s a blessing worth grabbing securely on to.

Interestingly enough, the organization I volunteer with, “Called to Peace,” soon after announced that their groups would not be called “support” groups any longer, but “Restore Groups.” I think God is really telling us in the community of women reclaiming their worth…. That He intends to fully restore us, not just help us survive. Aim high ladies! Ask Him for full RESTORATION!