my story – Page 2 – The Welcome Home

the suicide option

Through our lives we have experiences that are etched on our hearts and minds — experiences that shape our thinking, shape our reactions, shape our responses, shape our decisions — maybe even shape our initial theology or lack thereof. If these etchings were recorded on 3×5 cards, in time we’d have quite a card file full, wouldn’t we? Events and experiences, lessons and influences all recorded on cards make up our individual card catalogs. It’s interesting to me, every now and then, to come across a card I realize has had a profound impact on my life and thinking. One of the greatest regrets I have from a young age is collecting a couple of influence cards I wish I’d never acquired. On the cards are written: the suicide option. I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently… deaths of friends and loved ones, news headlines trigger memories… the file drawer opens… the influence cards tumble out.

I was a second grader when my mother got the call that her father had died. A strange disconnect defines that event. On the one hand, I heard that he never looked better and on the other hand, I saw my grandmother weeping over her loss. So young I was, so innocent regarding the trials and tragedies that befall people in life — at that point, unaware of what would later be the personal impact of my granddaddy’s death. When my mother returned from Texas after his funeral, she gave me one of the few things she brought from his home — a little tin box decorated with flowers containing my granddaddy’s sewing kit and also a package of “moth balls” — not chemical mothballs used in storage containers, but candy… small balls of sweet, nutty deliciousness.

Through the years stories pieced together framed the mental picture of what really happened with my grandfather; he was an alcoholic who’d come to the end of his options and resources and succumbed to the enticing lie that death was the only way out. On one of the cards in my mental card file is recorded that in a closed garage, carbon monoxide from a car’s exhaust system is a suicide method. Little more than three years later my mother’s brother would add another suicide option card to my card file. It was August… I was eleven when that card was added.

I’m amazed, through the years, how many times those cards have made their way into my hands… how many times I’ve turned them over in my hands, carried them around, and for a time mulled them over. Stunned from time to time that I could possibly take those cards out and look at them as options and ever for a moment consider listening to the lies of the devil that my life’s a waste or that everyone would be better off without me or whatever the devil’s lie du jour is. By the grace of God that’s all… but by the grace of God… I am carried through that darkness.

Throughout time, the devil has been capitalizing on twisting variations of the same lie. The lie always includes a form of death… death of self, death of relationships, death of purity or innocence, death of faith, etc. In the beginning, in subtlety and condescension, taking advantage of her innocent reasoning, satan challenged God and enticed Eve, saying: …you shall not surely die. And throughout history he’s played with the emotions of despairing and desperate individuals to persuade them one way or another, but the end is the same: death. From the beginning, the devil’s been twisting the truth on death.

Like his father before him, I’m sure my uncle felt much the same desperation that hot August day. He’d run out of options and resources and probably reasoned there’d never be an end to his financial losses and never a solution to his mounting obligations. No amount of reasoning could restore confidences that the financial gains and successes he’d previously enjoyed in life could possibly be rebuilt or that the losses could be overcome. Another method was recorded that day — if his life was a mess, his death was more so. I feel sick every time I hear that song’s refrain: he put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger. I hate that song. It’s no lullaby.

The devil’s a master of all or nothing — that whatever’s happening today will be happening forever — the all or nothing that things will always be this way, nothing’s ever going to be any different or any better than it is today — thus, there’s just one solution: death. Problem is, the devil never gives any warnings about what else really happens when he tempts (or succeeds) with that suicide option. It’s not a solution—it’s an amplified problem but the despairing one is gone and never sees the enormous ripple of the suicide rock hitting the pond. Is it desperation that fuels depression or is it depression that fuels desperation? Eternity will sort this out; whatever the case, both block out reason — both are blinding. Both fall into the abyss of great darkness. And the devil loves darkness — and loves to shroud us in darkness at every turn because his deeds are only evil continually.

His playbook is thin — satan doesn’t need many tricks. The same traps and tricks have been working for him since he first beguiled Eve and all the others since… the lies he tells you and me… the lies he’s perpetuated from that day to this come from his little playbook. Hath God said?

You’ll be better off. It’s your life. You’re not hurting anyone. They’ll be better off without you. This is the only way. You always do this. You’ll never change. Life is only misery, you’ll be in a better place and on and on. His methods have not changed — his motive has not changed — he hates God and God’s glorious creation and will stop at nothing in his pursuit to steal, kill and destroy life, faith and hope in God — ultimately to persuade individuals to take their eyes off God. But remember this: he’s a defeated foe — a lion with no teeth, a roar with no power. In the end, his challenge is not with you — you’re just a pawn to him. His challenge is with God. Remember that: he hates God and doesn’t care a thing about you.

…He [the devil] was a murderer from the beginning,
and abode not in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he speaketh a lie,
he speaketh of his own: for he is a liar, and the father of it.”
john 8.44

If life’s dealt you a suicide option card… remember that it was an option someone else took. It doesn’t mean it is your option. You ought to talk it over and get your mind set on Truth. Guard your mind, guard your idle thoughts. Remember, your adversary, the devil, is a thief. Get acquainted with, and very familiar with, the Truth. Know the Truth that the Truth will set you free. Remember that Jesus said, “The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.” In Jesus is life. Abundant life. He also said, “These things I have spoken unto you, that in Me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” (John 10.10 / 16.33)

May the Lord be your peace and comfort if you’re hurting over losses today. May the Lord be your strength and salvation and source of joy.

[I originally wrote and published this article 8.12.2014]

Writing Raw

Tonight I’m doing something I never do: writing raw. On purpose.

On purpose, generally, I never write raw. I write. I let it set. I come back and rewrite. If it seems pretty set, I “publish.” Tonight I’m writing raw.

Eighteen months ago a journey began here at our house. Totally uncharted territory. Big time. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know what to feel, I didn’t know what to think, I didn’t know what to say.

But time went on… and as time went on, I began to know what to do, I began to know what to feel, I began to know what to think, I began to know what to say. But all the while I was guarded. I guarded the doing, I guarded the feeling, I guarded the thinking, I guarded the saying.

And then the baby was born. A Beautiful. Precious. Marvelous. Blessing: this baby.

God’s great, glorious grace.

9 more months have passed. Time’s quickly slipped away. Long days, short months.

And as time’s gone on, I’ve known what to do, I’ve known what to feel, I’ve known what to think, I’ve known what to say. But all the while, I think I’ve been a bit guarded. I’ve still guarded the doing, I’ve still guarded the feeling, I’ve still guarded the thinking, I’ve still guarded the saying.

Tonight, the baby and the mama begin the next chapter of this story.
It’s quiet here tonight. It will be quiet here tomorrow, and the next day, and the next.

So tonight, the writing is raw. Unguarded tears.

I’ll remember how it felt. Knowing I’d do it again. Raw living. In a heartbeat.

Living 99 Years

Living 99 years… determining to finish well.

Living 99 years… imagine that. This journal entry is inspired by the 99th birthday of our aunt Martha. The more time passes, the more I hear of her life, the more I see the inestimable potential value of a life. She’s lived through so many seasons, so many early tragic hardships, trials, losses, disappointments. Those seasons blended into elegance, grandeur, and luxury in her life. And as some of those things slipped away, faded or diminished, she’s carried on more alone, quiet, living in memories of days gone by. She’s one of the strongest women I’ve known. She’s a long, long way down the track of life.

A long, amazing life… beginning her 100th year today.

I didn’t realize, a couple of days ago when I blogged about beginning again that I’d be all caught up thinking about all these things today. I wasn’t necessarily thinking about living long or making plans to live long. It was just on my mind to determine to live well. To finish well. And, in order to do that, I needed to consciously determine to set my face to the Son and take those determined steps. So Unless you know me, it might seem strange that a daily devotional and a diet plan were the two driving forces of my thoughts as I wrote that journal entry determining to finish well.

But now… really, what if I live long? What if I’m to live 99 years? Truth be told, I never ever expected to live as long a I have, let alone 99 years! And, truthfully, I’ve sure not lived like I was planning to live 99 years. Do you think about longevity in your life? Do you imagine living 99 years??

Many years ago, my precious old friend, Florence, told me that whatever you want to be doing at 80, you’d better be (or begin to be) doing at 40. She’s the one who jokingly (but not joking at all) said, if you want teeth to floss at 80, you’d better be flossing them well at 40.

Mulling over these thoughts today gives me great pause to continue this sort of “self inventory” kind of introspection (I’m not planning to stay camped on this subject, btw, it’s just imperative to me to get regrounded after drifting a little off course).

What am I doing here? Is it obvious that my life is to bring God glory and ‘enjoy Him forever’? Is that my chief aim? Is that what I demonstrate as my duty? So in my determination to walk with the Lord, in the light of His Word, and finish well, I’m thinking long on how today’s decisions and actions might read in 40 years.

Interesting. Today’s question 10/27 in the Q&A a day For Moms – five year journal:
“I wish I could give my child: ______________”

I want to give them: a mama who walked with God (99 years).

I don’t want this to be a “wished I’d done.”

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He’s Writing My Story

Every day, year after year, God’s writing my story. Every day, whether or not I can understand the circumstances I face, He has a very good plan for whatever I face. And regardless of my comprehension, His plan is for my good and His glory.

I believe this not only because His word says so, but also because I have seen His work and His glory has been continually revealed in His work in my life and in the lives around me. This isn’t one of those God’s Word says it, I believe it, and that settles it! sorts of statements. Truly, it doesn’t matter if I believe it or not: if God’s Word says it, it’s settled.

But by God’s grace and mercy, my seeing or experiencing God’s work affirms His work to me—it affirms His purpose in me. That’s one of the precious angles of the Lord I appreciate so much. He loves me so much that He affirms His work and reveals it to me. In some of the darkest days I wrote in the margin of my Bible next to different texts that spoke to my heart — things I could neither articulate nor utter. But the Word was so real to me — so living. And now, looking back at those notes in the margins and the accompanying dates they were written, I can clearly trace the Hand of the Lord in what’s been accomplished or experienced in and through those events.

Dark days or heavy trials are interesting things… I feel so isolated and helpless in them sometimes — even though they are the very things God uses to broaden my understanding and deepen my message — or to add to the story He’s writing. So many times I look back now and see that I was going along making a mess of my life—though I didn’t know it or think it at the time—and God has miraculously taken the messes I’ve made and is working them into a beautiful testimony of His faithfulness. Not a testimony of my cleverness to make it through this or that trial. No. Simply, His work to redeem what was hopeless and make it into something He could use for His glory.

I see more and more that’s why we go through trials——–trials prove the Lord strong on our behalf. Trials demonstrate to us our great weakness, our great need — and His great love.

I used to fear “the next trial” so much because I used to think that trials were given in some sort of level of intensity to prepare us for harder or more difficult future trials. And that sure put God in a peculiar position, didn’t it? As if in good times He’s a good God, and in bad times He’s an austere God — as if He’s got a tally sheet, or a punch card, keeping score on everyone. That’s not an accurate understanding of the merciful Lord. While the “next thing” might indeed seem a harder thing to face than the one previously faced, God’s not locked into the box of dealing in varying levels of hardships or trials for His children.

But I do know this—-He surely is a Master Pruner, a Master Gardener, cultivating in our lives the very things we need in order that we will be either more useful to Him or that we will be strengthened in faith to bring Him glory. And He uses trials to develop whatever angle of Spiritual fruit lacking or needing to be revealed in our lives. We would likely never choose those often painful tools the Lord’s chosen for our sanctification, would we? But think back on hard trials… they’re exactly what we needed to bring us to where we are today. And those foolish choices we made along the way? Even those are working together for good. Hard to see it sometimes, isn’t it?

The story He’s writing is a beautiful story — because He is good, He is loving and He is merciful — even when the story seems to have deep, dark valleys and rocky places. Do you see His hand in your story?

blindsided

I was once in an accident that blindsided me. It happened in a startling flash! And though nearly four decades have passed, I haven’t forgotten sitting there in the car, shocked that while making a left turn in a blind hilltop intersection, I’d just been spun around and was facing an entirely different direction on the hill I’d intended to drive down to go home. Soon I would talk with an officer and would receive a citation and have to go to traffic court. It was a mercy that a very lenient judge determined that though the accident was my fault for failing to yield right of way, were I to successfully attend and pass the traffic school course, I could, once again, have a “clean” driving record. Completing the course may have changed the record, but I knew differently. Even though I now had no blot on my record (and no one was injured), I still knew the accident was my fault. I didn’t drive again for a long time.

Incidentally, where we lived in Seattle, I didn’t really need to drive anywhere. Even still, it wasn’t that I couldn’t drive anywhere but that I wouldn’t drive anywhere. That accident blindsided me and caused me to believe I ought never drive again. Fear. It caused me to believe I was a terrible driver. It caused me to question if I ever was a good driver. It caused me to think that were I to ever drive again I’d probably get in another accident, wreck the car, permanently mar my driving record, or worse, hurt someone. Everyone would know–they’d know I was a failure and that I should never have been driving again. Shame. It was disproportionate fear and shame.

Fear and shame are powerful things — they can paralyze us, cause us to do or not do things, and can cause us to doubt ourselves, or other people or things. Guilt only adds to the paralyzing results of blindsiding event. Disappointment is another angle that comes to light, and, incidentally, pride does this, too. Sometimes.

Things that’ve blindsided me in life have revealed one or any number of these things and I’m pretty sure these are what have caused me to seek God’s purposes for them– and much more so with each passing year. I’ve determined to ask, why is this thing making me ashamed or afraid, or is this thing hurting (thus revealing) my pride, or why did this thing bring such instant and great disappointment, or why do I feel so guilty or responsible for this problem, or was thing to add to or to strengthen my faith?

I’m resolved to really quickly assess what’s going on when I experience and react to a blindsiding event. I have to chuckle at this point; this is reading as though a blindsiding event occurs regularly. Even though it feels like it, it’s not true. I’m just learning along the way to seek to repent or correct my actions quickly, to be circumspect, to keep short accounts, to guard my blindsides: to determine to be real careful how I initially react when things seem to come out of nowhere.

I can sincerely attest that initial reactions, statements, or decisions can be dangerous, or damaging to myself, hurtful to others, or to relationships if the reactions are not harnessed and words not carefully chosen — especially when/if they’re of the flesh and not of faith.

I can also affirm that there’s never a second chance to say the right thing first. Lately a guiding principle has been: How would I wish someone would treat me were I to be in this same position? Most importantly, I sincerely know the things that happen in my life are for God’s glory and my good — this is where blind faith is continually established or cultivated. He’s already sifted all the events through His loving hands – and if this is true, and it is, then what’s happened may have blindsided me, but it didn’t blindside God.

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reclaiming former resolve

Resolve. Quite a number of times recently I’ve longed for reclaiming former resolve. Sort of the embracing of the old paths — things that became such high priorities in former days. So now, I humbly say, experiences in recent years have really knocked me down and drained my resolve. Sinking in worthlessness jolted my senses and made me realize resolve had slipped away. Wait! Where’d it go? Where did the eagerness go?

In the eighties and early nineties I had many young children — the days were full and busy — and while some of my priorities bordered on legalism, most were just sincerely steeped in the fervent desire to live well, and impart to our children, a joyful life of order and faithful obedience. I say it “bordered on legalism” more as a description I heard from others than how I would have characterized it (then or now!).

There were, in those very early days, so many new opportunities and experiences for me as I sought to learn how to be a godly wife and mother. The more I learned, the more I wanted to learn! I hadn’t been raised in a Christian home and didn’t have the disciplines of a woman of the Word and so, those were days of forming habits (as well as unforming others!), and learning Scriptures through sermons, studying my Bible, and in church fellowship. Every now and then I’d meet and spend time with women from whom I’d glean more foundational truths, habits, and practices. It seemed that everything was new! I learned homemaking skills, child training methods, bread making, cross-stitching, gardening, meal planning, bulk shopping and bulk cooking, homeschooling and a whole host of other things through women’s books, Bible studies, retreats and even through magazines that are still dear to my heart. Those early days were filled with such eager resolve. Eager resolve with lots of children and lots of laundry.

A lot of those early resolutions led to the embracing the teachings of the Institute in Basic Life Principles and then a little later, the Advanced Training Institute – it all seemed like so many more good things!! I’ve written quite a bit about IBLP and ATI (there are a number of posts, actually), so I won’t rehash all that here except to say, we were sincerely blessed in many ways early on. And then we weren’t. But one thing I miss and sort of long for is that exuberance we had in those days — those days that became many years. I’m attempting to recapture that eagerness.

So, I’ve begun doing some of those former things — interestingly, it’s as if I’m tapping into some of those early resolves. I’ll tell you a few — maybe my rediscoveries will be helpful to you. I’ve begun reading a morning and evening devotional. I’ve begun writing a line a day in a five year journal. I’m writing down specific answers to prayers. I’m memorizing Scripture again. I’m trying to decorate for small occasions, I’m looking through old photos, cooking a few old favourites — yes, some from those old magazines. Inspired by my old Gentle Spirit magazines. I know. I’m overusing old. I’m working on crafts, lettering, and cards. I’m resolved to be looking for ways to be a blessing here at home and wherever I go. I’m working on writing. And blogging. This resolve doesn’t look like former days so much, but the desire feels very similar.

I didn’t have the hindsight I have now — which, by the way, is a very good thing. I’d have thrown in the towel early on if I’d known then what I know now regarding not a few of my motherhood chapters. I’ll tell ya, lots of things haven’t worked out real well—Yet. But lots of things have worked out so much better than I’d ever have imagined. What I didn’t have then was the faith that all these years walking with Jesus have given me. I didn’t have blessed assurance that Jesus is mine and that He would carry me. I know now. He has. Bcz of what the Lord has done for me I want to finish well.

So now, Mama’s Journal is underway with the resolve of the former days and bright hope for tomorrow.

bold confidence, sheer determination, blind faith

In my earlier years, I seem to have had no lack of bold confidence or sheer determination (and what was becoming blind faith). As I look back now on those earlier days — so many amazing (and so many cringe-worthy 😲) days! I marvel at the goodness and mercy of God!

The other day Hannah asked me if I regret any of the purchases we made in the early days of parenting. This conversation was sparked by a comment I made regarding the proliferation of infant and toddler necessities — all the latest stuff young mothers think they must have these days – in addition to all the other things they need to buy and do and be! I told her, no. No, I don’t regret what we bought for our kids or for my pregnancies, or our home… and I laughed as I told her that most of the time we couldn’t afford to make poor decisions! ~smile~ But I did go on to say that we didn’t have all the things in those days — so many things! — that are pushed as necessary and imperative today. Again laughing, I said, I sure sound like an old person, don’t I?!? I’m so glad now… glad we didn’t have the money to buy things which didn’t exist then. ~smile~ There were enough stresses just “making it” through without the added burden of having to measure up or deal with what I see are today’s must have‘s (must be‘s – must do‘s) for young mothers. We had all the necessities for the babies — may’ve been short on space and money, but sure long on imaginative creativity.

Those were the days of bold confidence and sheer determination. Those were the humble beginnings of blind faith. Those were the days where I began to see that God was in it all. [cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]”The years teach much which the days never know” — Ralph Waldo Emerson [/cp_quote] In those days I was beginning to collect the thousands of mercies, experiences, provisions, protections, and miracles from the Lord — the years now teaching much which most of those days never knew. But in bold confidence and sheer determination, God was working to instill blind faith.

I don’t think in those days that I expected God to work — He was working marvelously, but I didn’t know Him enough to know it. Working through my bold confidence and sheer determination, those were the days where the Lord allowed for a very,very short season –about a year’s time– a great amount of money and lavish living. I know we credited Him for that prosperity — but it was, in reality, misplaced or misunderstood credit. What was happening was that God was showing Himself strong on our behalf — not in the sudden wealth so much as what He was going to do with it all. We’d asked Him to bless us. And He did. O, He did. We thought the blessing was in what we could see — the goals and the things we could obtain. That wasn’t the blessing at all. The blessing was in what we couldn’t see/didn’t see — at that time. Part of the blessing was to put us back on the track of humble beginnings. The years have taught so much what those days didn’t know. It was the beginning of blind faith. It was the beginning of very sharply refining that bold confidence and sheer determination. It was the dawn of knowing that God does all things well: All the time.

Journal entries for days… What the Lord gave and what He took away. What happened to that confidence? What does blind faith look like now?

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change is a good thing

Change is a good thing. You may have noticed that I’ve made a change to my site title… the url remains the same, but the title is now: mama’s journal. I’ve done this for a couple of reasons, one being, streamlining a couple of blogs and the other, a first step in changing the url to this page. I recently noticed that there’s a “welcome home blog” page for home-coming soldiers and so, to leave that honour for them, I have decided to merge a couple of my sites into this location and eventually discontinue the use of thewelcomehome.

Additionally, I’m wanting to begin “blogging” again and not without a bit of fear and trepidation, I might add, I sincerely want to just write what’s on my heart… slices of life, and personal commentary, but my fear is that what I often want to share might be misconstrued, misread as an attack on those who see slices of life perhaps a bit (or a LOT) differently than I do. That fear is a powerful silencer. Then, there’s a myriad of fears that my failures, my kid’s failures, my shortcomings do or will disqualify me. So, I can only fall back on Scripture and say, not that I have attained… but I press on. (Pips 3.12, 14)

As many of you know, I love to write — I write things every day — and so I’d like to, once again, share pages of my life story in hopes that my observations, gleanings, experiences — yes, and failures — might be of some help, some hope, and some encouragement to you.

[cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]Change is a good thing[/cp_quote]And as always… to God be the glory; great things He is doing. I say this in faith as there are so many days it might not look like He’s doing great things. But He is. He truly is.

This is my story. These are now pages of this mama’s journal.

CSA… It Steals and Steels

freedomchildhoodpamelaspurling For days my mind’s been flooded with grief and all sorts of other CSA emotions I’ve been trying to stifle. (I wrote this a week ago; gripped with the reality that sexualabuse steals and steels. Today I wondered if I wrote it as another of many, many entries I would write and never publish. But I’ll publish this today with the prayer that grown up little girls might be helped, encouraged and comforted — not alone, not wrecked, not forever bad or without hope.)

[trigger warning] Hot tears flooded my eyes as I read a letter describing the discovery of sexualabuse that would lead to the destruction of a family, a home, and many individual lives. The truth is that already bits of little lives have been forever altered, forever raw, forever lost, forever attempting to get and/or understand a correct picture of what God designed and intended for each little life.

Child sexualabuse steals and steels. Decades later, I see this grim reality. Decades later, I’m still occasionally gripped with the sneak attacks of fear, horror, anger, deception, and disgust that stem from my childhood experiences. Instantly, brought to mind, is a childhood memory of being at the circus and watching the clowns spinning plates on slender poles, spinning and spinning until one or two of them teetered on the pole and then crashed to the ground. That’s what the memories of sexualabuse is like. Sudden gripping memories… like a bunch of plates crashing on the ground, glass flying everywhere. Or like steel reinforced concrete twisting and crumbling in an earthquake.

Getting sex right — getting the whole concept, the whole plan, purpose, and benefit straight is probably one of the hardest realities for little girls in women’s bodies. The strange and complex reality is that for little girls, the pattern of the beautiful design, being forever mangled or stolen, becomes an elusive quest to recapture, rebuild, and relearn to relate with clean and pure physical and emotional reactions in a manner God intended. How merciful God has been to give me the husband He has and to work in my heart and mind to trust and love as He has — this causes me to ever more fervently pray for women and little girls to be cared for, listened to, protected and encouraged.

Because…………………..

Every now and then, the steel reinforced concrete emotional protective constructs crumble. They crumble with real, raw love, they crumble with seemingly out of nowhere sights, smells, sounds… and they crumble with current stories of little girls experiencing these or similar destructioCSAns — causing old fears to resurface and feel raw and crumble all over again. And because of the stealing of true, natural, physical love… the coping mechanism of re-steeling emotions is triggered.

Two of the most powerful natural emotions, true love and raw fear have such an incredible impact. I think the reality of this is what prevents grown up little girls to allow or give place to either one.

For a little girl who’s been abused, the natural reactions are so twisted with fear and shame, that it’s hard to differentiate between what’s beautiful and what’s totally scary. Breathtakingly beautiful. Creepy scary. Love gets redefined in the mind of an abused little girl. Instead of sex being a physical demonstration of loving acceptance, joyful pleasure, and romantic connection, in the mind of a sexually abused girl, it’s often a necessary act of obedience in a box of secrecy and heart pounding fear. That totally twisted view becomes as much a part of that little girl as all her other abilities and expressions. Everything’s tainted to one degree or another by that destructive abuse — ever reinforcing a wrong physical and emotional response to expressions of true love and true adoration from men. Problem is, coping mechanisms mask the real hearts and minds of broken little girls — little girls with skewed emotional understanding, inaccurate pictures of love and what pure love and behaviour really is learn to steel their emotions and to develop coping skills to deal with what’s now reality to them. Real love almost hurts too much because it is so beautiful, so sweet, so wonderful.

That’s what I’ve come to understand as I survey my emotional responses through the years and that’s why I can, by experience, say that CSA steals and steels.

[cp_quote style=”quote_left_dark”]The good little girl obediently fulfills her daddy’s requests, and she keeps it all quiet so that no one gets hurt, and to make sure everyone is happy.” [/cp_quote]Limited by age related emotional language, a little girl wants everyone to be happy. In her egocentric understanding of herself and the family, her behaviour has an adverse (or positive) effect on everyone. And if that activity (sexualabuse) might make someone unhappy or hurt, then the little girl is groomed to behave as though it didn’t happen. Especially when the perpetrator says, remember, this didn’t happen.

But it did.

And because of this, I lean into the Lord, I trust Him for His perfect will and thank Him for loving me so much that He would allow me to go through trials that I would be able to empathize with and point others to Him; that I would love others who go through trials of many sorts and I would be enabled to say, He does all things well. I have experienced His mercy and know with certainty that His lovingkindness is real and that He alone is worthy of praise. He will lift up the brokenhearted and He will be their peace and in Him is the victory. Jesus said, come unto Me all you who are heavy laden and I will give you rest. And isn’t that just what we long for? Rest? Jesus paid the price for sin and death–separation from God; He died and rose again that we might be set free — that we might rest in Him. He died that we could live—because He lives—we can live.

Thanksgiving 2015

spurlingfamilyjune2015TWHblog From me (and my family) to you, Happy Thanksgiving 2015

We celebrate God’s merciful kindness this Thanksgiving!
I’m filled with awe and gratitude for the opportunities the Lord
has given me and I am thankful to be able to share this blog with you.
I sincerely wish you love, peace, joy, hope, contentment and patience.
May we all give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good. always only good.
May the Lord encourage your heart as you count your many blessings.
May He increase your faith as you recall His loving kindness.
May your joy be full regardless your circumstances.
May your love abound more and more.
May your faith ever be unwavering.
May your all hope be in God.
May He bless you
more & more.
with love
to you.