March 30, 2010

Tonight:

Tonight I feel totally depressed.

I don't know where any of this is headed.
I am tired, but I have slept naps for most of the day.
My heart is tired.
My soul is tired.
My emotions feel like a truck ran over them.

In my mother's words--I am 'bitchy' tonight.
It is nights like this that I wonder why it matters.
It is when I wonder how stable I really am.
When I wonder how I could possibly accomplish anything.
When I loose all hope.


I cannot cry because I know that's weakness in your eyes
I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh every day of my life

Don't Forget Your Place!

I have been wrestling for a while now with how to act. I am still at home (in case anyone missed that point) and I have been having some hit-and-miss trys at how to live peaceably with men yet not be a doormat in the process.

I am an adult. I have my own person, my own rights, and my own life. How do I reconcile that with living in a Patriarchal, communist household? I need to be submissive, but do I agree with everything? I need to honor my parents, but should I kiss up to them and act like I am the perfect daughter?

I need to be honest with myself. It is something I have been working on understanding more and more as time goes on. So much of the self-hatred and stuff that goes on is when I am trying to (1) change my thoughts/reactions and (2) trying to convince myself of something that I may or may not personally believe.
I have been stopping lately and asking myself: What is your reaction to this? Why do you feel this way? Is this justified, or justifiable? It this wrong or not necessarily? What are you going to do about it?

Things like that help me to be honest. Our conditioning teaches us to think first of what is “right” and to then put down any other urges that are (have to be) from Satan as a temptation to get you to sin.

In being honest (how do I feel about this) I can look at the things that I have been taught and evaluate them based on logic and sense. The biggest area I am concerned with now is lying. Is it OK to “lie” to my parents and not tell them the counter-patriarchy things I am thinking/reading/passing on/promoting? (My mother would definitely qualify this as deceit, if not a lie, because you are not being fully truthful)
I have been trying to figure out if I should lie and agree (either because they want an answer or by silence) with them even when I want to roll around in laughter or scream in desperation at the crazy things they are saying. Or how about when I try to talk with the children? Is it ok to “influence” them in a way that would probably get me grounded for eternity or booted out?

I have decided that for now I need to change how I have myself in the pecking order and such of the house. The best way to describe the emotional and literal state of me at this point is Nanny/Housekeeper. I cook, clean, and watch the children. I do as I am told and I am not expected to have an opinion most of the time.
Suddenly, it clicked for me. In this mindset, I don't have to contradict my mother. I would not contradict the woman of the house where I was working. She may believe and do as she likes. She is supposed to have me work and do things around the house. I should expect jobs like this and griping would get me fired.
Here, I am provided with a room, about $50 a month (for cat upkeep) and medical care. I have food and clothes and in return I am the maid. I must say, I could do better elsewhere!!

It is working for peanuts to be sure, but the clincher is my emotional connection with the children.
I have it to the point where I can be just about emotionless with my parents. I still remember vividly my mother being so hurtful to me (I don't remember what or why, I believe I was 12 or 13) that I decided not to cry at her death or funeral. I vowed to laugh when she died. It was the utmost on my power I could do to harm her. But I have not breathed a word of this to anyone. My father I have not respected for a long time, and I care very little for him. Being emotionless is hard, because I know that it is not how it SHOULD be. I should run to and hug my parents when I see them. I should be able to really care. But I don't. I tried to hug my mother the other day. It was terrible. I never even got close to her. Maybe something is wrong with me, but it seems the easiest (maybe best?) way to keep on trying here.

Like I said, my biggest problem is how to relate (in the maid mindset) to the children. I very much love them. I try to talk, but I get “reported” to the thought police. I want more than anything to give them knowledge, independence and freedom, but I really don't know how.

I forget every now and then who I am (who I need to be right now) and things go bad. Then, I remember and shut up. Pray for me. I am really trying hard and seem to be getting nowhere.

March 29, 2010

A Fight

So, tonight I had a big fight with my dad.

I usually try to stay away from situations like this, but the best place to get wireless Internet connection is within 10 feet of the main computer. It happens that they had rented Shenandoah (a Civil War movie). When there are two lines shooting at eachother, the children ask: “Which ones are the bad guys?”
I personally hate that question. Both sides are PEOPLE willing to die for something they believe in. Real life war is no batman movie with some dark, evil, brooding side and a hero side!!! And esp. when it comes to the Civil War!!

Well, there I was, doing online stuff, reading the forum, chatting with people on FB when the movie ended. My father decided to launch into a discussion, and sat down in the chair opposite.

Now, history discussions between us are not a pretty sight to see....and never to hear. I have read and I firmly believe/agree with some of the things I have read. He must have studied history at some point in time, but I am not sure of what extent (and he claims to have lived so much of it...). My ideas are usually strange to him, and he is always right.

Tonight, it was our old standby, the Civil War. He is firm in the belief that the South only wanted to enslave countless millions of human beings for their carnal monetary gain and abuse. I believe that (although many people might have fought for such things) it was one of the “other” issues that got thrown into the big cacophony that surrounds the actual events.
I made the case (based on economic principles and logic) that wars are not fought over morals. War is fought over land, money, or power. He said that I had no base and because some random economists (he consistently mis-pronounced that word, I think to annoy me) said so did not mean that it was true. After circling this topic for a while, he suddenly came out with the idea that if economists study human nature and how they work in terms of business (something I said) than he was just as qualified as any of them because he had a theological degree and knowledge of the Bible contained enough anthropology to make him so.
(I wanted to ROTFL...hem)
I told him that was quite a large mental jump, and that it didn't really make sense.
After more circling, he said that God had something to do with the principles and I told him to to get Vision Forum-y on my and start dominion mandate and “God's Providential Nation America” me.
He doesn't like that aspect of VF very much, so he dropped the topic.

Then, we happened upon the topic of the Gettysburg Address. I remember a well-written article my sister read to me about it being very much propaganda and not much history, and was unConstitutional. My father reacted strongly to that and asked me to quote it. It has been a year at least, and I told him frankly that I did not know where it was, and that I would have to google search it or something. He jumped on that and began egging me that I made unfounded comments and said that until I could pull up something concrete I was making it all up.
WHHHHHHAAAAATTTTT????!?!?!?!?!?!?
I told him to his face that that statement was hypocritical because he makes reference to books and things he read to base his leaps into historical analysis (He once said that Hitler was out to “resurrect the Roman Empire a third time—therefore bringing about the end times). I referenced this exact time, and he brushed it off saying that “common knowledge” did not count as being a baseless-made-up statement. I kept pushing the word hypocrite. He was doing it, it was true. He said I was being disrespectful, and that I should not use that word to him. I said “Is it true?” He said “No, but even if it were you should not be disrespectful to me.”
I proceeded to ignore him. It is the only way I can get out of a discussion like this one.

He finally stopped and asked “.....Yes, sir?” (that means yes, Daddy, you are right, I should not say anything negative about you and I should agree with you and everything else you said that I tuned out for)
I waited to see if I could get out of it...but I should have known better than that. No one gets out of a “Yes, sir” in this house. I said “I'm sorry, you said that: 'To accuse me of being hypocritical, besides being disrespectful, is....' something and I didn't catch it.” (in my most carefree voice possible)

He scoffed at me and got up from the chair. He walked out of the room, paced, and then came back and told me to pack up the laptop and go down to my room. I was grounded. I said that I would go, but I had to help mother with coupons. He began yelling and told me to GO NOW. I did, calmly. Not slowly, but deliberately. My siblings were all watching me (they had been for a while) and tried to see if I was disappointed or anything. I smiled at the 6yo, walked by the 11yo calmly and walked downstairs.

As I headed down the hall to my room (which does not have signal, ugh. Sometimes I can't even get cell signal) I heard him yelling at my mom when she begged that I be allowed to help her. “She can't just get away with putting her nose in the air....calling me a hypocrite...who does she think she is...” etc.

March 27, 2010

Zephaniah 3:17

The LORD your God in your midst,
The Mighty One, will save;
He will rejoice over you with gladness,
He will quiet you with His love,
He will rejoice over you with singing.”

March 26, 2010

Fear

Right now, I feel like I am treading murky waters.

Fear has a vice-grip on my mouth. I don't want to tell people, even people who say they love me, things that I fear they won't understand or might not be able to handle.

There are so many things I want to say/scream...and I am to afraid to say them.

My mom talked to me a long time tonight about her journey and what "those women" needed to know. She had very little understanding, she belittled emotional abuse, said we needed to get a grip. She said that blogging was like spewing our depression out into the world and it was terrible. She said that if you kept it between you and god you would get a special reward and that you would grow, instead of having one big online pity-party for yourself.

She said that "these people" drag their "terrible" (quote-unquote) lives around with them and they are always depressed and whining. "There is no healing in that!"



It got to me....but like I noticed....she has no idea. Of course we drag our troubles around. The very core of our personality and life has been affected by our upbringing. You don't just "get the victory" when you pray. It isn't about "bringing every thought captive".

It is about LIFE. It is about how I can find GOD, and redemption, and FREEDOM from all the junk that follows me.
I guess I am just having a hard time tonight.
But there are people out there who love me.....

March 20, 2010

An Old Letter

Have you ever written a letter to your future husband?

I heard that some girls do, and on a fancy I write letters in my diary every now and then.

I was just going back over some of theses (to laugh and wonder at myself, mostly) when I realized that these letters were one place where I let it all hang out. I wanted to be completely honest and open to the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.

Here is one that I am frankly amazed at. Amazed because it is all so familiar, so frank. I did not think I was that honest with myself so long ago.

April 12, 2007

"...I fear you may never want me because of the blackness within me. If I didn't fear these (letters) falling into the hands of some big-mouthed individuals I would elaborate. I hate someone –passionately... I really do not know what I have become. My heart is curled up in it's snail shell glad to creep out for a split-second and try to kill/maim any passers-by. I feed on slime and trash and tell myself that they don't care, and that it is their fault....
I am maiming myself too... I hate my present, I want to destroy my past. I am seriously considering running away—maybe making myself into something I can live with...it is one way of forgetting. Suicide really stopped being an option after a while. I did not have the gumption and I couldn't bear not being around. (I almost laughed here if I wasn't crying so hard for myself)
So—how do you like the (pity) party? If you have not yet dropped this and run like all evil was pursuing you have my permission.
I am this
This is me right now: angry, hurt, and yes—bitter to the very core. Never satisfied, uncontent—yet a master at wearing false faces!
Here I wallow—pity and anger—I am telling myself that there is no tomorrow. That if there were it would be as black as today.
Why did you want a person like this? What worth is there in me? Are you sure of your sanity? I am not of mine. I keep waiting to snap. To loose the mind which I cherish, tear out the hair I prize so vainly and blind the eyes I'd do anything to keep. The ones which are right now producing enough tears to keep them red for an hour or two. Why was I born? What use is there in life? How can I face death? When will it all be over?
I don't know what you'll say.....and I don't know if I can face you. Perhaps, this afternoon, I'll write with another tone and tell you that this was all rubbish. Perhaps it is—perhaps that will be...perhaps both are true. What am I? Really! Inside! I don't even know—if I really cared. Don't tell me dumb things to make me feel better! Don't murmur nonsense! Salt may hurt but it cleanses. I'd prefer harsh words and a stout slap to any fakeness. I have to face what I am—yet here I am—on the floor in a muddled heap—weeping!
Does life matter? Does He really care? IS He there? Why doesn't He speak?
Why isn't He with me?"

At the risk of showing how little I have progressed from this state of depression, self-hatred, and crippling pain, I shall say that times like this still come over me. And truly, the next day I laugh them off and remember them like I would a nightmare.
This is where healing needs to come. This is where I am. This is where I am working from.

March 19, 2010

Cat Food

I love cats. I could really be an old cat lady in the future if no one wants to marry me. You know...those old ladies whose entire pension is spent on food and cat litter? They feed all the hundred wild ones who visit as well as the 15 or so that they keep inside....

But anyway, I had to leave my cat in the RP when we moved, and my parents promised that I could get a cat once we got a house. After renting and doing other things, we finally moved to where we are now, and I was able to adopt an older one that some people were giving away. For a couple months my father paid for the supplies for it. Well, a couple months later it had kittens. SURPRISE!!! Being a good breed, I was able to sell them for money, and my father suggested I use the money for the mother's future upkeep. So I did....until it ran out.

I would continue using the small amounts that came my way whenever I could, and I did not have a problem with it. However, lately I do not have the cash flow, and my father had taken back that responsibility.

The other night, I asked him about getting more cat food (I am running out). He suddenly got on a "well, isn't this a wonderful situation" mood. (I can read him very well....I am only just now finding this out) He sat down in the chair opposite me and said he would....on one condition.

I suddenly got really scared. My mother had been acting very gloating and suspicious lately. This has been one of the hardest "roles" I have ever plaid. I have been told many times that I was a born actress. I was always the "drama queen" of the house. Whenever I have had the opportunity to act, I enjoy it to the hilt.
However, this is real life. My mind and plans are changing. I am no longer the same person that they raised me to be. However, I have to keep up a front or else I may not be able to accomplish my goals for these two years.

Back to the moment:
He asked me "Are you an independent sister-in-Christ, or are you an obedient, submissive daughter in this house?"

I was frankly dumbfounded. "I would say both. In Christ there is no male or female...." (I forget what else I said, but it was good!)

He replied that in many cases they were not the same, and in this case they were opposite. So, which was it?

I tried to delve deeper, and I asked him where he was assuming these attitudes from. He mentioned a week or so ago when I was complaining and telling the kids bad things about them (him and mother) and that they had reported my treason.
Then, he began referencing the blog you can find on my left sidebar. A blog I love deeply. He said I had linked to it from our Michael Pearl discussion. (that would be another whole blog post. We (him, me and mother) had a long "talk" and I had to get the article online) I remember distinctly pulling up a different blog. I asked him that and he admitted to blog-hopping.

He then expressed complete shock and amazement at the fact that when he checked up on this blog, and found a post saying "verbatim" what I had said to my siblings.

Anyway, all he ended up wanting was for me to say (and I quote) "I will live in this communist house...." etc. I told him that I had been living in it, and it was amazing how he acknowledged the word...and he cut me off and said for me to SAY it or else the "first result" would be me having to buy my own cat food.

I said: "I have been living under this communist system and I will continue to live under it for a time." He was satisfied and he walked away.


Later, he and my mother were talking and he said the I said the words and he could hold me to them. He also gave my mother a lengthy lecture as to why the blog was supporting girls who were rebellious against authority and leaving the protection and sanctity of their father's homes. He talked about how wrong it was to say that these girls "could not find God" through their parents homes because that was the only place where God WOULD reach them. All the suicidal issues and junk that they went through after was a sign of that.

I am right now in jeopardy of all this coming up.
A friend asked me what might happen if my parents knew any of this.
I said I wasn't sure. It would be considered the same as treason, and I didn't want to think about it.

Well, now that reality is staring me straight in the face.
I am scared spitless right now.
I have written out some questions for myself. I am working on answering them
The biggest one is: Am I just too scared to leave?

March 18, 2010

A Promise

I Will Be With You

I will be with you in joy and in pain
Your cry for mercy echoes My name
Now and forever I’ll be at hand
I will be with you,
I will be with you
For that’s who I am

I’ll be with you, I’ll be on your side
Your prayer for deliverance will not be denied
I’ll fight the battles that evil might wage;
I will be with you,
I will be with you
Till the end of the age

I will be with you

Now and forever I’ll be at hand
I will be with you,
I will be with you
For that’s who I am.

I will be with you, there’s no need to fear
How can they harm you
When I hold you dear?
Your life is in My life come peril or sword
I will be with you,
I will be with you
For I am the Lord!!!



Once again, I can't find this song on youtube. I have it on CD....I think. It came to my mind today while wrestling with some serious questions.
Please pray for me. I will try to explain more later.

March 16, 2010

A Milestone

Tonight, I turn 15 years old.

No, this is not a different person. It is just a different birth-day. A little after midnight I will be remembering a little girl, who had very little idea of the import of her words. But she meant them, and she was ready.

I can see her.....

She is supposed to be in her room resting. It is after lunch, but why isn't she obeying? She is restless, she wanders into her parents empty room, and stares out on her favorite view: the mountain all the way on the left, the trees and the road (the water of the sea just out of sight behind them) in front of her and to her right. The wonder of it all was weighing on her mind. “Oh God who created all this,” she suddenly addresses One she knows is important. “If you did all this—created all this beauty—I want You, I need You in my life.” It was simple, but she knew what she was doing. Suddenly, she realized what else she needed to do! She ran downstairs and told her parents, who were excited for her, and celebrated, and then sent her back to rest where she should have been in the first place.

How little she knows! And how little anyone else knows! She remembers little else of her very young childhood, but that memory has always remained sharp and prominent. The emotions come rushing back, and the same beautiful scene. Later in her life, she would call it “her place”. She would escape to the corner of the house to sing and pray and look up at the bright full moon (her best friend) and remember, or hope for her future, or cry—telling the plants all around the latest thing that had happened to break her heart.

If she was around now, she could only see it in her mind's eye, and in the drawing someone gave her of it before she left.
But the girl who now inhabits her mind and body, whose spirit is now passing another year marker is meditating. How have these years shaped and affected my spiritual walk? Have I matured much/any over time?
Having to re-learn so many things makes me feel like a child, a baby trying so hard to stand over my wobbling knees and force my baby feet to carry me a few steps. I fall down, all babies do, but I keep falling...
Maybe soon I will learn how to walk.

March 14, 2010

All About Shame

On Wednesday morning I was driving (unusual) and I had on the more moderate Christian station (versus the louder/rockier CCM station or the country station). I began actually listening around the 7 minute mark. I would have cried, but I was driving, so I had to keep my eyes open.

Getting Through The Tough Stuff of Shame


It is a very powerful message. It was amazing how he equated it with suicide and depression and self-loathing. Because it was a two-part series, I waited for the entire thing to post on here.

I hope it blesses you like it did me

March 13, 2010

Love pt.3

Love pt.3
The Balance of Vulnerability

One of the most complicated things about love is it's vulnerability. To truly love, you must be open. And being open to love also means being open to being hurt.

Again, a quote from Captivating:
“We have missed many of His notes simply because we have shut our hearts down in order to endure the pain of life. Now, in our healing journey as women, we must open our hearts again, and keep them open. Not foolishly, not to anyone and anything. But yes, we must choose to open our hearts again so that we might hear his whispers, receive his kisses.”

Then, she tells a story. One that has stuck to me, and when I gave a copy of this book to a dear friend, she mentioned this exact same illustration. Her husband was walking along the beach and saw a whale.
“John told me this story and, happy as I was for him, I was more hungry for such a kiss for myself. I wanted a whale too.... I...snuck away one morning for some much needed time on the beach with God. I sat on the sand, looked out to the sea, and asked God for a whale. 'I know you love John, Jesus, but do you love me too? That much? If you do, may I have a whale too?'

I felt a little silly for asking, for I knew the truth—that God had proven His love for me....
After a while, with no whale in sight, I got up off the sand and continued to walk... I rounded a corner and came upon a starfish, a beautiful orange starfish. And I knew at once it was God's gift to me, His kiss. He didn't give me a whale; no, that was for John alone. For me, unique to me, He gave stunning starfish. He answered my question. Yes, He loved me. I thanked Him for it, then rounded the next bend and came upon a sight I will never forget. There, before me, behind me, surrounding me, were hundreds of starfish. Zillions of them. There were purple ones and orange ones and blue ones, all sizes. I burst into joyful laughter, my heart exploding inside me. God didn't just love me. He LOOOOVED me! Intimately, personally, completely...

All relationships ebb and flow. The ebbing is to draw our hearts out in deeper longing. In the times of emptiness, an open heart notices. What are you feeling? Like a lonely girl missing her daddy? Like a teenage young woman feeling completely invisible, unseen? Notice also what you want to do—how you handle your heart. Are you shutting down in anger? Turning to food? To others?
What is crucial is that, this time, we handle our hearts differently... We choose not to shut down. We let the tears come. We allow the ache to swell into a longing prayer for our God. And He comes, dear hearts. He does come. The times of intimacy—the flowing waters of love—those times then bring healing to places in our hearts that still need His touch.”

Something I have found to be part of my ministry here is to love my little siblings. And really love them. Love them when they woke up grumpy. Love them when they forgot to get to the bathroom and “had an accident”. Love them when they hit you when they are walking by (I still have no idea what it is about me, but they all do it!)

Some days I have suddenly found myself “compelled” (As King Saul might say) to lean over and give my little sister a kiss. She looks up at me like I bit her! I smile and say, “I love you sunshine!” (because her sanguine nature is such a delight to me). She scowls and goes back to her business.

I have been more involved in the younger ones, specifically, because they have that ache in them just as much as the older ones, but they cannot manipulate for more attention as easily, and they have not had life crush them as much as the older ones.
Little hearts are so hauntingly needy. Their little eyes have so many questions, and mother and father rush on by with house payments, grocery bills mounting as inflation takes hold of even basic necessities, and schooling the older ones.
They have learned to be wary, though, they have been pushed away too many times.

March 12, 2010

Why?



But I have one burning question:
Who told you lies? Was it worth the fight?
They were WRONG! They LIED!

March 10, 2010

Who I am

I love fairy tales

We were never allowed to watch Disney movies. When I was little, I remember we watched Snow White, but the humidity and time turned it moldy (as happened to all our Video cassettes eventually).
Later on, we found Cinderella and Peter Pan on VCD (it is a strange concept, a DVD on a CD, only without any options...) and we watched them semi-regularly. When we were on furlough here in the US, I found their stash of movies, and could not resist watching them. I watched the Aristocats, Little Mermaid I and Little Mermaid II.
Yes, I got in trouble.
I was told that I had wasted the time to fellowship, and I was disobedient for watching films that were not exactly approved. I was told to write a paper about the rebellion of the Little Mermaid (which was eventually forgotten...so I never did write it) and what negative consequences she should have suffered.

I have mentioned this a couple times, but I guess now is as good a time as any to say it.
I have a very open, bubbly--what is known as "sanguine" personality. I will usually be more inclined to laugh than frown, and a good joke will always have me laughing. I like people, and I will be your friend of you talk to and are accepting of me.
Oh, and if any of you have heard of love languages, I am mostly a "touch" person. I will totally hug you over talking to you. In second place is gifts. I remember making little trinkets for everyone and anyone whose company I enjoyed.
Combined, I am an open and friendly person who enjoys being with and around groups.

One of the hardest things about my childhood, was being told that how I was, as a person was not suitable for adult company. My father told me that hugging my friends was inappropriate, and talking to/over/with people in my sanguine way was "immature".
I eventually vowed never to use that word, I hated it so much.

Being the third child, I watched my eldest sibling "come out" from the sidelines. At her big birthday party bash, I had to go home, and was not allowed to stay up with "The Youth".
(I don't think she had much choice in the matter, so I do not hold her responsible) I craved being with people. I wanted to socialize and be part of "The Youth".

But in order to do that, I had to be 3-4 years older, and "mature". For years, I put it on my New Years resolutions. I tired and tried to "be mature" and my diary records the nights I spent in penance for messing up. And messing up one time was all it took for whatever privileges I had earned through months of watching and trying.

What I did not realize as a pre-teen was that "immature" was the definition of my unique personality. It was being friendly, it was enjoying everyone exuberantly. It was being gregarious and loud and silly.
And I did not realize that I could not change WHO GOD MADE ME. His fingerprint on my personality were irrevocable.

To this day there are still voices in my head telling me to be quiet, fold my hands and be quieter. I still struggle with who I am as a person, and who I should be. How much of myself I should let out. How much won't scare people away. Won't make them look down on me for being childish.

Recently, I have been watching movies on youtube, and one that I found was a "modern" fairy tale--Enchanted. It was rather cheesy, definitely shallow on plot, and totally predictable. But I realized how much I have always loved fairy tales. I love how open and sunshiny the "Princesses" are. How so many things work to crush their happiness, but they smile and sing through it. I want life to be like a fairy tale....and I have that irrepressible voice inside me telling me that this is how I was made. I find myself laughing cynically and being depressed one day, and the next day I will be laughing and bouncing around...and wondering if it is OK.

The Country song American Honey (although it doesn't really apply to me) has become a real favorite. I can't say I grew up so idyllically, but I love how they try to see life through adult words and a child's eyes.

Get caught in the race of this crazy life,
Trying to be everything can make you lose your mind...


There's a wild, wild whisper blowing in the wind
Calling out my name like a long lost friend

I guess it is another way I am trying to find out who I am. Who I am free to be. And most of all: who God made me to be!

March 8, 2010

Another song:

A slow, somewhat mournful tune, but it has a depth that is really touching me today.
You know those days, when you open your mouth to pray and you can't get anything out...



Fresh page, new pen,
Where do I begin?
Words fail, tears come
I need someone
To take the thoughts I almost think
And carry them to God for me.

Deep breath, exhale
Breathe in deeper still.
Long sigh, I'm still numb
Is there anyone
Who can find the things I'm barely feeling
And give them wings beyond my ceiling?

Right heart, wrong places
Too far to outer space.
Sorry, I forgot, You're right here
I cup my hands around Your ear;
I feel You smile, You feel my breath
You listen while I whisper non-sense.

Simple exchange
Your will, I'm changed.
And now my prayer ends
Thank You, Amen.

March 6, 2010

A Picture


Then the time came when the risk it took
To remain tight in a bud was more painful
Than the risk it took to blossom.
--Anais Nin

Burning memories:

What can you do with memories that have burned a hole in your mind, or branded themselves to the walls of your consciousness?
What if they are still there, burning a ring of pain and distrust for those who created them?

I have a good memory. Many people over estimate me, but only because of my reputation. I can listen to a song 2 times and have it mostly memorized. I can repeat a Bible verse enough times and memorize a chapter in two hours. I quote movie lines and others ask me for the correct wording of them. Birthdays and anniversaries take a bit more work, but I can lock them in my mind just like everything else if I acquaint them with something.

The downsides of this are: Any song, good or bad, I can and have memorized, and words and memories stick to me much longer than they would with others.

One such memory, has come to define how I see and react to my father. Every time I see him or hear him speak to others it comes and haunts me.

My mother had a gaggle of girlfriends going through college. I believe there were 4 other girls, one of them being my father's younger sister (which is how my mother and father fatefully met). While most of them have not kept up with my mother or Aunt, one of them still updated every now and again, and in 2006, she came to visit. It was the first time in a very long time that she and my mom had been together. My mother was her bridesmaid over 15 years ago, and now that we were in the States she stopped by and visited for a while with her daughter. She was always bright and lively. I had always liked her dark black hair and rosy cheeks. She talked and laughed and showed us pictures of the dream house she and her husband were building where they lived.
My Grandmother (father's side) was over and we were having a nice time, until my father came home from work unexpectedly.

Now, my father had a tendency to be rude, because he prides himself on being frank—brutally frank. I think he thinks it is more spiritual than being kind and taking things slowly. He has never really liked this lady, my mother and his sister's friend. He has said nasty things to her face about her being immodest, wearing the pants in her family (I would not know how substantial that claim is, so I cannot say it was a lie), and he almost refused to let my mother be in her wedding.

Therefore, the moment we knew he was home, we all tensed up. My father knew that this friend was coming over, and he had had steady work, so he was not going to be around to see her. (something my mother was probably glad of) However, for some reason or another he came home that day.

At first he was kind enough. He said hello, and asked after her trip and such. He even came over to look at pictures. Then, he began to abuse her.
“So, have you quit work, or do you..” (something to the effect of not care about your husband and daughter enough)

She was older now (more mature), and very judicious. She explained very slowly (through gritted teeth, I think) how she was working with to help pay off the house and it was taking a bit longer because they were adding an in-law quarters for his parents so that they would not have to enter a nursing home. She and her husband had agreed that she should work, and her daughter (who was with her and could surely not help over hearing) was being well cared for

My father did not let up, shooting words like a machine gun at her—quoting scripture, filleting her up and down with her sinful life.

She eventually stopped trying to get a word in edgewise and broke into fretful tears. The younger kids disappeared, probably hid somewhere because they recognized my dad's tone of voice. Her daughter stood in the other room with a terrified look on her face, and the rest of us women (my mother, older sister, his mother and me) sat with grim faces on, our heads down and in silence. We wanted so badly to jump up and defend her. I wanted to slap him, but didn't dare. We knew better. We said nothing and let fire rain down from the sky.

After about 10 minutes (or a lifetime, I don't know that I could estimate time correctly at that moment) he stopped to catch his breath. He finished his dissertation with a flourish, and then sealed it with an "invitation" for her to leave. She was to not show us any more pictures of her sinful life, or to enter his house again. She could stay to pack up her things and then she could find some place to go.

He calmly finished the soda he had poured for himself and left to return to whatever he was doing, confident that we were scared enough of him to obey.





Very little was said about it after the dust settled, and to this day it remains one of the darkest of my memories. I think on that day I was able to see my father for who he was, and I have not respected him since.

Only a base creature would feel proud and justified about attacking a woman under his own roof who was under her husband's authority and had his full permission to live the life she was living.

Yet, I know for a fact that if I were to ever bring up this incident he would tell it with gusto and feel more than justified for having protected his family from sin influences and having given her warning on how her life was leading her. He will not feel guilty about her evil lifestyle leading her to hell.

A Testimony

This post is a very hesitant one for me.
I know that there are a lot of “Gothard survivors” out there, and I empathize with them deeply.
My father went to his first Gothard seminar as a young man. He said it affected him profoundly, and he took my mother to one when they were still dating. She latched on to it as well, and in our house the 3 volume “Character Sketches” tomes were on hand as a resource....

But we rarely ever used them.

Despite the good things they liked about Gothard, my parents never ended up joining ATI or have gone beyond attending Advanced and Anger Resolution Seminars. However, my father did use “youth conflicts” materials as a basis for a “Principles for Progress in Life” (PPL) seminar he used for a while where we were missionaries. After a while, when he had established a reputation in the community and had a handful of converts, he moved into more of a discipleship program than a salvation one, and PPL digressed to the annals of our history.

However, admiration for Gothard has remained strong, and lately my mother has been using the Character Sketches books more for their Bible stories and picture worth.

I attended Basic when I was 15, after we moved to the States for good. I think I did advanced, but I don't remember when, and I did Anger Resolution just a few years ago. (2007, I think)

I respected Mr Gothard for the scripture in what he taught and because my parents looked up to him as a great Bible Scholar and teacher.

So, when I was out looking for a place to “get away” I was not very surprised when my father pulled up the ponderous list of ATI alumni activities. I had set my heart on attending TeenPact's Endeavor, but due to money constraints, I did not register soon enough, and I would be down about 15 on the waiting list. So, my father encouraged me to look elsewhere.

Journey to the Heart stuck out to me because it was near Chicago (I have always liked that city for some reason), because I could visit friends out in that area while I was out there (another reason for liking the city), and because it promised me a whole new walk with God. I had come through a lot on the plane that separates stagnation and passion, and I could never seem to find balance.
Saved as a young child, living as a Christian meant little to me. As I hit the double digits all I wanted to be was a missionary. As I got to the teen years, life slowly drowned my ambitions, and I settled for a ho-hum life with my own weaknesses to tempt me and my Father's teaching to save me.

From the age of 14-16 I seriously considered leaving God altogether. I refused to read my Bible and drew into myself and closed the door. I changed into the person many people wanted me to be. Silent, mature, and intelligent when I needed to speak.
As I got older, I knew that my only hope to go on living would be in faith, but I felt so wicked and so far from God that I did not how to proceed. I could not go tell my parents any of this, because I didn't want them to know, and the sins in their lives seemed to have them at the same point as I was.

So, I went to Journey seeking. I found there a lot of healing, but less answers than I had wanted, and some answers I DIDN't want. I found out what a real RELATIONSHIP with God was, and what love was (more on that later).

I credit Journey with all that I am now, because without it I would be stuck where I was before, getting more and more frustrated and maybe even so angry that I would give up everything I have learned over the past 4 years.

If any of you want to write me for some more personal thoughts on this, or anything else, I made a gmail address to go along with the blog: Defraudeddaughter@gmail.com

A link to my testimony on Living The Journey

March 5, 2010

A Psalm of David

Psalm 39
To the Chief Musician. To Jeduthun. A Psalm of David.

1 I said, “I will guard my ways,
Lest I sin with my tongue;
I will restrain my mouth with a muzzle,
While the wicked are before me.”
2 I was mute with silence,
I held my peace even from good;
And my sorrow was stirred up.
3 My heart was hot within me;
While I was musing, the fire burned.
Then I spoke with my tongue:

4 “LORD, make me to know my end,
And what is the measure of my days,
That I may know how frail I am.
5 Indeed, You have made my days as handbreadths,
And my age is as nothing before You;
Certainly every man at his best state is but vapor.
Selah
6 Surely every man walks about like a shadow;
Surely they busy themselves in vain;
He heaps up riches,
And does not know who will gather them.

7 “And now, Lord, what do I wait for?
My hope is in You.
8 Deliver me from all my transgressions;
Do not make me the reproach of the foolish.
9 I was mute, I did not open my mouth,
Because it was You who did it.
10 Remove Your plague from me;
I am consumed by the blow of Your hand.
11 When with rebukes You correct man for iniquity,
You make his beauty melt away like a moth;
Surely every man is vapor. Selah

12 “Hear my prayer, O LORD,
And give ear to my cry;
Do not be silent at my tears;
For I am a stranger with You,
A sojourner, as all my fathers were.
13 Remove Your gaze from me, that I may regain strength,
Before I go away and am no more.”

Defrauding Daughters:

Prelude: This is one of my first attempts at vocalizing some of the issues that boiled within me. Written 2-11-2010



Scripture is clear that defrauding is a sin. It also clearly states that provoking to wrath is equally as serious as disobedience to God-placed authority. (For the purposes of clarity: I am defining defrauding and provoking-to-wrath synonymously)

Why then am I applying this to daughters? I shall explain.

There is a large movement (I am tempted to say “in the homeschooling community”, but it might have spread farther, so I shall not limit it to my knowledge) of families in which the daughters are given a life goal from the moment they are born (or known to be female, in this modern age of ultrasound).
This goal is to marry and be a mother. In most families it is laden with Biblical background and blessing, and placed before young women as the only non-sinful path for their pure feet to tread.
While I do not want to take away from the great office of any wife or mother, I beg to differ from this so-deemed golden rule for daughters. Why? Because it sets them up for defrauding, being provoked to wrath, and internal warfare for the entirety of their single life.
Think about it this way: The different parts of a person mature at different rates. A woman is physically capable of having children much younger than most people today would consider a suitable age for marriage. One's soul and spirit also mature differently depending on personal maturity and how much each is fed.*
When a daughter is PHYSICALLY ready to marry may or may not be when she is EMOTIONALLY ready---. Whether or not she is SPIRITUALLY stable in her walk with God is another matter altogether. Thus, a young girl of 16 is “ready to marry” (physically) but will probably not be married for another (at least) 3 or so years. A girl of (well, I am extremely hesitant to put a number here) on up may be “ready to marry” (emotionally) but will surely not be married for approx. 10 or more years. (Some very young girls have already decided on a future husband!)
As far as spiritual maturity, it can only be gauged by the young woman, or between herself and God. She needs to be fully reliant on God, and be walking closer to Him than any other person in her life before she can be able to serve a husband.

Yet, young women are expected to not “want” to get married. They are reprimanded (or at least it is frowned upon) for thinking about boys, or (all heaven forbid) “picking out” one they would prefer above any other.** Their state of “emotional purity” is to be of their utmost concern (which would be sullied by even allowing a thought like “He is soooo handsome” float across their minds). Verses from Song of Solomon (You may laugh now) are used to apply to single young women (you may laugh even harder) to encourage them in such aims (rolling on the floor in helpless guffaws is also permissible).

Thus, a young woman who is looking to fulfill the life's calling to which she has been encouraged her entire life (yes, even from the womb!!) is told to stop thinking about marriage, to not look at a boy more than once, to not “awaken love” (ie. want to get married [wait? Isn't that what they are supposed to want?]), and not to set their hearts on getting married. (“There may be an isolated chance that no man would come along until you are 27, or 30, or even 40, or maybe even never....hmmm...”)
Then there is a whole industry that writes book about what young women in such predicaments (wait, did I just use that word?) could do with their time and efforts (while still waiting to find a husband, but not wanting one—that would be sin).

Therefore, I would say that this is provoking-to-wrath and defrauding. There is nothing more provoking than to be told to do something, and then told not to want to do it. It does not even make any logical sense!!! If wanting to be married is a bad thing (discontent, emotionally impure, etc) than why would anyone be raised with marriage as their end goal in life? As the purpose for which they were created by God? As the one truly perfect career for a woman? As the only possible non-sinful career they could pick?
It is defrauding in that a young woman is constantly at war with the physical part of her (biological clock?) and/or the emotional which is “ready” but she is not of an age wherein marriage is considered (or perhaps family has decreed a number, or there are no “perfect” young men available). It is natural for a woman to want companionship, to want to be sought after, and to want to be cherished. Marriage and the family are God-ordained, and thus good things to be desired. However, when we make this a sin, or when we discourage girls from spending time and effort in this area they can quickly get smothered in despair.

It is illogical to encourage a girl to something her entire life, and then when she is ready (or partly read) she is rebuked for thinking/speaking in such a way/wanting such things.
It is defrauding to them to build up their hopes with prayers for “a man of God to come along and marry ______ someday...” and then frighten her to emotional sterility with the spectre of “emotional purity”.
It is provoking to wrath to encourage a girls to prepare for marriage mentally, and then tell them that mental energy spent thinking about (I'm gonna say it: BOYS!!!) marriage/husband/future may be a sin.




*I am leaving mental knowledge/capability out of this list because it varies from family to family on the list of “required before Betsy is allowed to' ______'”. Does it include baking perfect homemade bread? Or just a Cherry pie that will make Billy-boy's mouth water? Thus I find it would be cumbersome to discuss and would bog down the point of this post with arbitrary homemaking skills*

**I am not by any means challenging that a woman cannot initiate a marriage offer, or going into a dissertation that women should not be responders, or that women should be initiators. I am merely pointing out some of the things that go through young-girls-who-would-like-to-be-married-some-day's minds that are considered improper or sinful.

March 4, 2010

Music



Music is a form of communication unlike any other.
It does not only stick in your head (words can do that) but it can even produce physical urges (like tapping your foot, or dancing around).

I think it has played the biggest role in the process of renewing my soul.
It speaks in such a dynamic, that we can play one song over and and over again and still want to hear it more.

I love how Chris Rice uses words. As an amateur poet, I love people who can use words. The fewest with the most power and resonance. His creativity and depth both astound and capture me.

My father would qualify this as "rock" music, or CCM at best. I was once playing it without earphones while I worked in the kitchen and he told me to turn it off. Well, I keep it to myself now, and it helps me see God through different eyes.

I think Lemonade is most interesting, as far as seeing God as "the Father of Lights: giver of every good gift", and as the One who gives a hope and a future. :)
Be blessed.

The right answer?

"Before you get an epiphany, a good Bible Study should give you a _______"

(The correct answer is a headache...at least according to my father.)

March 2, 2010

Why Should I Care?

Communism fell.

Everyone knows (at least here in America, the political brainwashing of the Cold War Era has told us that) that Communism doesn't work. There are various economic and political reasons....but the most pressing one is individuality.

Individuality: the particular character, or aggregate of qualities, that distinguishes one person or thing from others; sole and personal nature

I keep remembering (for some reason, I am not sure of yet) a conversation I had with a soldier who was back in the US last fall. He had been stationed over various parts of Europe. We talked about Americanism, about culture differences, and about how the multi-cultural experiances had shaped or changed him.
(Note: He was not a very "good" person, and I met him at a fun party that some homeschooling friends and their family were having. He tried to flirt with me, and stuck very close in the pool (yeah...that was interesting), but when I was more interested in talking he got the picture and seemed to enjoy the a-typical person I was. (He hummed the "Jaws" theme song along with trying to "shark-bite" his hands in the water. I have not seen Jaws, so it turned out rather amusing).
Anyway, when he expressed delight in explaining to me his many tattoos (oh, yeah....did I mention that? Lets just say my dad wasn't there to protect me), I asked him why he had so many and he replied: "It's our individuality". Even though (in uniform) none of them can be seen, he said that all of his buddies had them.
The military is a prime example of communism in the leveling that it tries to accomplish out of a mass of people. (Note: I am not attacking the military as an institution, or trying to say that they are Communist, just an example)

In my experience with Patriarchy, one of the biggest internally fatal problems is it's refusal to allow for individualism. One example is the "community ownership"--or worse "Patriarch ownership" (See: Divine Patriarchy).
In our house everything (with a few exceptions of some things bought with personal money) is my Father's. Even some of the things bought with our own money are, for a variety of reasons, also his. They were brought into HIS house. The other children would like to play with it also. We should share, etc, etc,etc.

If you want to HAVE something, you must hide it.

And we become expert hiders. Hide the urge to laugh at a "serious" time. Hide sinful emotions. Hide thoughts. Hide my diary. Hide my tears. Hide my heart.
If he doesn't know, he can't punish it...or worse...give you a talking to about it.

In a communistic family, children learn (some slower than others) that anything that matters to them cannot be seen outside of their uniform. However, inside they hide anything and everything that makes them who they are.

Slowly, the outward conformity tells the partent that they have a "good" child. The parents then think that what they see is all there is. They make no efforts to "get to know" the child that is (to them) perfectly accepting and (swallowing) all their teachings. If you thought them everything they know, you would know them better than they know themselves (something my mother tells me all too often).

Thus the bomb shell when this (perfect) child suddenly rebels, or does something completely sinful, or suddenly leaves home.

Driven into ourselves, we stew in our pain and our guilt. Often unable to discern the truth from the guilt motivation and the Biblical language, we either have to throw it all out or accept it and further condemn ourselves.
Depression
Emotional Detatchment
Suicide.

Why should I care about something that is not mine? That cannot ever be mine? Why bother?
Why does it matter?
Why does anything matter?
Why do I matter?