Can't sleep

When my heart is overwhelmed,
Lead me to the Rock that is
Higher than i.

just dreamin.

  

                 

On a bike ride with Sam down Ocean Blvd. last week, she remarks, "Mommy, you know, after spending this week at the beach, I've been inspired to write a story...about a girl who lives on the beach and is homeschooled and rides her bike everywhere, like to the store to get stuff, 'cuz they live in a small town close to everything..."    

Man, I like this girl's thinking.  One of my own big dreams is to live on a tropical beach, where I can swim, snorkel, boogie-board, surf, explore tide pools 365 days a year.  Maybe earn a living as a freelance writer of some kind, or a teacher or even be a missionary, who knows.  Learn a new language, a new culture...  yes, it's good to have a dream.  Even if I don't get there til I'm old and gray... I'll be a happy granny mermaid.  Then I'll die & go to the happy mermaid section of heaven, where I'll dive with the angels & hang ten with Jesus!!!  :-)

With that pleasant thought, I think I'll go to bed and try to continue this dream in my sleep.  g'night!

      

   

Land mines

This single paragraph about repressed memories speaks volumes to me. I may return to comment on this later. Just had to share this. Hope it helps.

I come back swinging!

                                     

                                   Claressa Shields, 18, the first American woman to win an Olympic gold medal in boxing.

                                    What she tells herself when the chips are down:  "I've got another round."

     Sometimes

     when someone covers your mouth

     Stifles your voice

     it makes you want to 

     Scream Even Louder.

     So here I am.

     I am woman.  Hear me... 

     just hear me.

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

   Not last night but a few nights before, Satan came knocking on my door.  Said he wanted to

    Kill, Steal & Destroy.  

    Kill my spirit.  Steal my voice.  Destroy my life.

    At first I gave in.  Like I've been trained by his soldiers.

    Wilted into a puddle of spineless, voiceless filth and tears.  Just the way he wants me.

     BUT THEN GOD.....SPOKE!!!!!!!

     His Truth:  I am....a child of God, covered in the blood of Jesus Christ.  Redeemed.  Loved. 

      CLEAN.  Innocent.  

      Yes, I could stop there.  Pretend that I'm completely healed, 

      and just close the book, roll the credits.

      But No.   Now that I've lured the devil in, thinking I'm weak and too powerless to fight, an easy 

      catch... Like a true fighter I may feign weakness, but then come on strong! 

      Take that, Devil!  Crunch!  Power Jab- into the teeth!!

      Slam! Right hook across the jaw!  

      Ka-chunk!! Low kick to the knee, hear it crack.

      Yeah, that'll teach ya... don't come 'round here no mo, devil...

      This time I am confident that the Mighty Fighter Jesus Christ, who bore my shame and guilt on           

      the cross, He's the one who will continue to heal my brokenness.  No, it won't all be a day at the 

      beach (like last week, that was awe.some.)  No, I now return to the desert, the dry places.  The

      places of fakey small talk, busy-ness, of awkward moments and pasted-on smiles.

      But no need to dwell there.

      My point: I am now ready to SHARE my journey to emotional/ spiritual wholeness with other  

      women who also have this secret shame hidden inside their souls.  No big huge deal, 

      really, this is mostly still just for me.  My outlet. But I will do a few things to help other women find         

      they need in this area of sexual abuse. (Of course men can have this issue, too, but my heart 

      goes out to women, since I'm one of them.  So men, if this stuff offends you, just quietly exit the back door and don't slam the door behind you, thank you very much.)

      My plan:  1. Keep on blogging.  Be real. Totally real.  Even when it's ugly.  

       Always remember that, no matter what, Jesus has already won the war.  I'm just picking up the pieces, cleaning up the mess, trying to re-create my messed-up life and helping others do the same.  Always point to Jesus. 

     2.  Include links, from time to time, to other sources of spiritual and emotional healing in this area.  I am not a counselor, preacher or any substitute for a mental health professional.  Get real help where it's needed.  On my brighter days, I will offer my own words of encouragement.  I will really try.  But I must balance them with honesty.  Just know that.  I will also tag  some of my posts to make them easier to find for these women who need to find them.  If readers feel comfortable leaving a comment, please do.  Here's one that was emailed to me by an anonymous reader:

       "Jennerosity Sonar- you are brave, courageous and you are beautiful.  You have a voice and there are many who need to hear it.  Thank you for being brave.  Thank you for saying hard things. What Satan intended for harm God will use for good.  I will praise Him now for His Glory in your story because it matters."

      Words like that mean more than I can express.  I want to be an encouragement to others, but instead of just scraping off some superficial spiritual-sounding encouragement from the top layer of shallowness, I want to dig deeper and share truths of God's healing from the deeper parts.  Even if parts of it are still partially rotten and stinkin' from being repressed for so long. (euw, that sounds gross).  

 Will there be challenges? Obstacles? Threats?    

 Yes, yes, yes.   I realize that I am sort of the "other channel" of Christian blogs.  I am not squeaky-clean, but I am honest. I share my ups and my downs.  It's not a short phase, there's no quick fix.  It's a journey.  An ongoing process.  I thank you for sticking with me.  With me and Jesus.  We're a team.

       So I will close now with a haiku, and a Bible verse.  See you on the journey!

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

                Safe Now

                                                       My Voice heals, protects.

                                            Choice says, No One touches me.

                                                       Voice, my bodyguard.

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

             "I am still confident of this:  I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

                 Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord."  Psalm 27:13-14

      

Car tunes

Just a small serving of lyric soup:

(Thoughts while car-jamming w/hot chilli peppers & 80's big-hair rock on the earphones)

A good groove
Wails, screams, pounds,
Digs, grinds
Into the soul
Where do we go now?
Then down comes the rain
Purple rain
Even doves have pride.

Tweet! Tweet!

Intl Justice Mission (@IJM) tweeted at 7:02 PM on Fri, May 24, 2013: “I am now an empowered woman. I cannot be oppressed anymore.” Read Charito’s inspiring story: http://t.co/uTu2G7D3EO #hope (https://twitter.com/IJM/status/338067402099159040) Get the official Twitter app at https://twitter.com/download

Seaside Inquiry

THis is a test.  A test of seaside organism identification. (stuff I almost stepped on barefoot on the beach) Please record your answers separately and see what you've got.

   Question #1: Is this a jellyfish on the beach? #2: is that a dead crab?

#2: Is this a dead crab?         #3: Is that a salmon-colored blog that looks like a sponge?  #4: Is that a purple unidentifiable bl     blob?

blob?

            

#5: Does this gross thing look like either an octopus leg or a small intestine of some unfortunate somebody?

#6: Does this pinkish blog look like a dinner of 

poached salmon with a side of kale?

#7:  Do I have absolutely no idea on earth what this

weird gray blob is?

#8: Did the sea just burp on the shore?

  Very well.  Pencils down.  

Now record your answers and see what you've got.  Hope this answers all your questions. Good job.

Pet peeve

I hate it when people think they've got you all figured out & that you're  all honky-dory inside when really they don't have a clue.

Or when they think they can fix you with logic & theories & even scripture, but without real love. Love that listens. Weeps when you weep. Love that gets tough WITH you when needed, not AT you.

That said, have a blessed Sabbath. Smile like you're honky-dory. Or just hug someone for me.

Just

Pray.

Friday at the beach.

3 words for today:
Ex.haus.ted.
To be continued.... ;-)

Necesito dormir, no puede pensar ahora..zzzzzzz

perfect together

       

     Perfect together.

         

    Actually wanted to tweet this....but....what would the world think?

   #wino #callAA  #chocolate  #bliss

Ocean Haiku

     

                     

                                      

  

                    

 

                   

                      

                     melancholy sea

              high tide, really high today...

                   low tide, really low

           

          

                                     

favorite tweets, cont.d...and goodbye. :(

Some tweets i chose not to retweet but might comment on later....i will be updating this post every

 

 

Writing is a socially acceptable form of getting naked in public. PAULO COELHO #writing

 

ok...so this one gets your attention, eh? (I sound like a Canadian, yup, grew up pretty close to dem der folks up nort, ya...)

 

What I think the author means here, which any kindred spirited writer would also understand, has nothing to do with actual nakedness but with the extreme vulnerability that comes with the art of writing. Of course a personal blog would be the highest extreme of emotional nakedness in terms of writing, but even sharing a painstakingly, heartfelt piece of fiction can also bring one to their quivering knees when they realize that they just put their heart out there for critics to trample on, or to praise.

 

I know what it feels like to get trampled on. I did not set this blog as a platform to try to change the world or to set myself up as a perfect person without any flaws. I set it up as a place where I could be real. I originally shared the url in one place online, but as I entered into an especially intense and emotionally dark time of my life, I began pouring out my heart into these posts. Often these expressions were dark, or shocking. I'm just being real with how I feel. But I'm getting the impression that my transparency is not something that is tolerated by some, so I must dive underneath the dark waters and find a new outlet for my true feelings. And so, I'm sad to say this, am crying as i type, but I must discontinue this sonar blog, and find another place to find emotional healing through my writing. I will be starting a new blog somewhere else online, open to only those whom I personally invite to read. A good friend of mine who has experienced a truamatic event similar to my own also keeps a blog like this, where she can vaguely post about her ups and downs as she, too, navigates the dark, murky waters of emotional healing that must come before we can truly be free again. Friend, you will be the first to know when I start my new blog! (I'll email you if I don't see you first!! :)

 

Some people just don't understand this, and it hurts me more than words can express. Since I won't be around here much longer, let me finish with something my friend shared with me, an interpretation of psalm 55, personalized for those victims of this type of abuse. Read it if you dare. And know, that this type of abuse has a horrifying effect on its victims and will often, like in my case, "silence" its victims for life. Unable to decide for themselves. Willing to give in to any kind of pressure, just to be accepted. Making "safe" decisions that didn't involve risking their emotions or need for real love. Because they don't believe in love anymore. Losing their sense of identity. Always feeling guilty, no matter how many times they've prayed, and how many times counselors tell me that it wasn't my fault. I am bawling now. What was once my source of solace, to put down my thoughts and tears, is now once again being silenced, as it cannot be tolerated in this culture. Puts me back in that dark place where the abuse began. Where I lost my voice. The first time. Obviously not the last.

 

http://www.bradhambrick.com/psalm-55-personalized-for-sexual-abuse/

One quick disclaimer, as a reminder, this was written by someone else, not me, but my situation is similar.

 

In his booklet Recovering from Child Abuse: Healing and Hope for Victims David Powlison identified Psalms 55, 56, and 57 as particularly good Psalms for helping victims of abuse put their experience into words. The Psalms were meant by God to help us put our experiences into words, but for many people (especially those who were “silenced” after their abuse) this can be difficult.

The example below is an attempt to rewrite Psalm 55 to put the experience of sexual abuse at the hands of a family member or trusted friend into words. It is advised to read Psalm 55 in your Bible first. Then read this post. Afterwards you might try to rewrite it to allow God to give words to your experience.

Here is this exercise in a printable PDF format: Psalm 55 Personalized for Sexual Abuse

1. Oh God please hear me. Don’t pretend that this is not happening. I need you!

2. Be silent no longer. Say something. Let me know you are there. I am overwhelmed as I cry and convulse over what happened to me. I can’t eat, sleep, or think.

3. My abuser made such awful noises. He took pleasure in my pain and degradation. He over-powered me. There was nothing I could do. He must hate me to keep doing this. What have I done?! What could cause such hatred and disregard?!

4. My soul quakes. Heart-break feels romantic compared to this. This is worse than death.

5. Panic attacks and the fear of panic attacks assail me. My body tremors in rebellion against me. I can’t control my movements. Fear divides my heart, soul, mind, body, and will to attack them separately.

6. Like Jenny in Forest Gump, I want to be a bird and fly away. I want to escape to a place of rest.

7. That place of rest would have to be far away, but there is one, right? I would travel however far, by whatever means, if only You promise there is somewhere I can go.

8. If you would just tell me the direction I would leave now. I would drive all night. I want peace more than sleep. Without peace sleep is useless. Sleep is just part of the storm with its nightmares and waking up realizing I’ve got to fake it through another day.

9. Take justice! Do to them what they have done to my soul. Don’t let them multiply my shame by talking of this deed. Don’t let them mock me or worse talk like nothing happened.

10. I can’t believe I live in a world/country where this is “common.” It’s always being reported on the news or another documentary. Every time I hear it I am reminded. The pain echoes; worse it flashes back.

11. There is a whole industry of sexual degradation in our culture – porn. Its bigger than the NFL. They write and glorify stories like mine. There is an audience who pays for it, even with children.

12. But I can’t blame culture or an “industry” for my pain. It is no stranger who dined on my soul. It was not an enemy who was getting even. If it were, then I could be more protected. I could appeal to family and friends for help… and they might believe me.

13. But I knew him! I trusted him! My trust was used against me. My trust was the Trojan horse that let him in. How was I supposed to know?

14. We had so many good talks before that. We went to church together. We prayed together. He taught me Bible lessons. How much of that was a lie? What does it mean to have your soul betrayed by a friend and a “friend of God”?

15. May the death they have sparked in me explode in their own life and them live to experience it. Oh, that they would know the full degree of pain it was possible for them to create. Let their heart vomit its content into their own soul.

16. But I call to you God. No one is capable of handling what is before me except You. It takes omnipotence to overpower my pain, omnipresence to get your arms around it, and omniscience to fathom it. Only You can help me.

17. My pain is before me all day and at night when I am not sleeping. I don’t know what else to do but cry to You. So You hear from me a lot. Everything in my life reminds me of my pain and my pain reminds me of my need for you constantly.

18. You are the one who keeps soldiers safe in the midst of battles. I am in the fight of my life and won’t make it without You. My abusers, pain, memories, and fears out number me greatly.

19. God I trust the lies and deception do not outlive You. You hear, see, and know the truth. This sin was as arrogant against You as it was ravaging to me. He will not stand or smirk in Your presence.

20. My father/uncle/friend attacked me and violated the trust of our friendship and, with it, my willingness to allow anyone to get close again.

21. I replay his words over and over again, but cannot figure out what I should have heard. The terror of his intentions was hidden from so many. Were all of his compliments intentional instruments of death or were some of them sincere?

22. This was not my fault. God calls me righteous as His child. He asks me to cry to Him. He is not ashamed of me. God is angered by anyone who would shun or condemn me for what happened to me.

23. But God is more angered by my rapist. Sexual predators will answer for their sin. Yet in His fury against them God is still safe for me. I will come near, leave my shame, look in Your eyes, and have my trust restored.

And now, I will sign off. Thank you for following me on jennerositysonar. Thank you, especially, those who listened quietly, wept with me, prayed for me. Understood that this is just a dark journey I'm on right now, not who I know I am in Christ Jesus. If I can't be real here, or among fellow believers, than where do I go? For now I will look for a quiet place online to start a new blog. Part 2 of my journey. If you are kind and caring and would like to continue following my blog in private, post a comment or email me. I'll keep you updated. thank you. goodnight, and goodbye.

this sub has sunk.

 

 

 

 

a;sldk

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Misic haikus on the road

Pink floyd you take me
Out from my facade and back
Under my dark cloud.

Favorite tweets

Some tweets i chose not to retweet but might omment on later....i will be updating this post every few minutes or so.... :-)

Writing is a socially acceptable form of getting naked in public. PAULO COELHO #writing

tweets i love (ongoing...)

This may be an ongoing list... here's the first:

Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. ― Lao Tzu

Gotta go for now. just wanted to get that down. maybe I'll chat about these later, or maybe not. maybe add pictures? who knows. we'll see. g'night.

 

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Small talk

Parking lot haiku

Alone feels good here
Shade, music, balmy breeze
This tree and me, friends.

friends in comfortable places

"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: 'What! You too? I thought I was the only one." - C.S. Lewis

 

God answered a big prayer of mine this week. I've been feeling so alone in all this junk that I've been going through. Nobody knows, nobody would understand. So hard to find people who've either been through a very similar experience or who have a unique ability to really listen and care. Having a blog and believing there are people out there who read and care is one thing, but I've really been praying for a real friend, someone I can talk face to face with about these deepest hurts. And God is so good! This friendship is a new thing, she and I have lots of catching up to do, but it's an in-person and online kind of thing, and God is using it to bless my heart in big ways.

One interesting thing is, she also blogs about her experience. Vaguely, of course, like me, but OMG we have such common ground on some big things! One of these is music. I thought I was the only one who loved the Lord and loved Christian music but still had this secret addiction to lots of secular music, too. So many songs feed this very emotional part of me that can easily get disconnected in the attempt to keep up appearances of being a good Christian and having it all together. Actually music has been huge to me all my life, and became a battleground in my mind when I first came to know the Lord and felt I needed to purge my thought-life of all the sinful, evil messages I was drinking in through my secular music. So in my season of spiritual revival and major turnaround in college, I feverishly discarded all my old secular music that sounded even remotely devil-inspired and began listening to only Christian rock, which I was very thrilled to have just discovered. But as the months went on and my spiritual fervor dwindled, bits of this "Satanic" music starting creeping back into my listening repertoire, adding much guilt to an already confused born-again heart that still didn't realize I had deeper issues that these other "perfect" Christians just wouldn't understand. So I decided it was all-or-nothing, and turned my back on my newly converted lifestyle, and returned to the "vomit" of my old ways of partying and rocking out to raucous rock music and indulgent lyrics. Of course that season was more than just about music, but music was definitely the "pied piper" that led my goody-two shoes facade out of the Christian community I'd joined on campus and back into the drinking and carousing lifestyle of sororities (and fraternities!) and nightclubs.

Now back onto the topic of music. There is just something very real about some lyrics, that resonates with a soul that's been hurt. Take Pink Floyd's Comfortably Numb. yes!!!! My new friend totally "gets" what I love about this song!

Hello,

Is there anybody in there

Just nod if you can hear me

Is there anyone at home.....

There is no pain, you are receding

A distant ship smoke on the horizon

You are only coming through in waves

Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.......

I can't explain, you would not understand

This is not how I am

I have become comfortably numb.....

When I was a child

I caught a fleeting glimpse

Out of the corner of my eye

I turned to look but it was gone

I cannot put my finger on it now

The child is grown

The dream is gone

And I have become

Comfortably numb. (Pink Floyd)

No, folks, these lyrics were not taken from that thick blue hymnal in the pew pocket in front of you!

No offense to Christian music, I love it, I need it, I was born to worship, but sometimes even the coolest Christian rock is all about believing in God's love (which is true! it's great!!!) but never leaves any room for the natural doubts and struggles I have as a very flesh-dwelling, tarnished and sinful individual. It's a balancing act that follows the path of Christian maturity. There's never a place of having arrived at that place, just as we must walk through the paths of everyday temptations, live among unbelievers and still love them as Jesus did. For some of us, it's a trickier issue to live IN the world (and its music!!) but to not be OF the world.

ok, enough preaching. Am the only one who feels this way? Raise your hand if you love the Lord but have still banged your head (I know, I'm so stuck in the 80's) to some good Pink Floyd or other shockingly wicked rock music!!!!!! (audible gasps from the pew-folk....)

That wasn't exactly where I meant to go with this blog post tonight...er, this morning, but so be it. I am just so thankful that I have a real friend who understands all this _______ I'm going through... (sorry, but the word "crap" just isn't strong enough for these emotions I'm having...go ahead, judge me!!) :)

I hope you have a wonderful day. And if not, come with me, to a place where you can be...

Comfortably Numb.

(Thank you, Friend, for I know you're reading this!!!!) :-)

 

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excess baggage

packing. all i need.

praying for sun, no wet suits

let's go. awkward beach.

 

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donut therapy

Appointments, appointments. Wasn't I just at this place last night? What, is this my new home now?

Everyone wants to look at my head. Turn it this way, now this way, ok, freeze, and...

Shrink it, sink it, turn it all pink-ish.

Slice it, dice it, spin it around twice-ish.

Blast it, fast it, examine its past-ish.

Hurry it, curry it, make it work and scurry it.

Melt it, felt it, think i just smelt it! (ish!)

Smack it. Whack it. Put it in a straight jacket.

Medicate. Set a date. Get me out that gate.

Tag it, Bag it, Gag it-till-it- uh, is there a word for vomit that rhymes with gag?

never mind.

So tell me, do you ever hear voices in your head?

"oh yes, in fact, just yesterday Scooby-Doo was having a conversation with Fred Flinstone and then Donald Trump jumped in with an infomercial about belly button re-tie-nation for outties..." (don't ask, childhood joke, big brothers like to tease younger sisters about stupid junk)

And do you ever see things that other people cannot see?

"well, no, but my cat used to do that, he drove me crazy. Does that count?"

Do you ever intentionally inflict bodily injury upon yourself?

"hmmm, does that include eating waaaaaaayyyy too many strawberries in May and inflicting on myself many painful hours of sitting in the bathroom?" "TMI???" oh. sorry.

It's so much easier to joke about these expensive visits to the shrink than to really share how I feel about them.

that's all i can say for now.

Have a nice day. A happy mental health day. Tell them I sent you.

 

The bill is HOW MUCH????

Seriously, that would've bought a LOT of donuts.

Probably would've been much better for me, too.

Donut therapy.

love it.

 

 

 

 

 

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Final Exam

whoa. where to begin. mind is swimming, as usual. would prefer to hash it out in my spiral journal first, but don't feel like dashing outside in my jammies to retrieve said journal from the car where I left it. I bring that thing along with me a lot, see, in case the mood hits me, and sometimes it gets left behind. the journal, that is. and sometimes the mood, too.

anyhow. I am so random! so like prince sings in his epic 1999, "I was dreaming when I wrote this, so forgive me if it goes astray..." that's me, random, astray, distracted. And sort of already in a dreamlike state, so tired. so here goes.

Last class tonight. In lieu of a final exam, we finished our time with a small artsy assignment, to finish the phrase, "hello my name is..." by using words or images to describe where we have come as a result of the journey of this course we've taken together. So here's my little piece, which will NOT be stuck to the fridge with magnets, thank you very much...

drumroll, please....

Ta-da!! First of all, NOooooo, that is not a woman in a blue shower cap with her head jammed inside of a watermelon. I drew this in 5 minutes and was NOT creating my portfolio for the Atlanta School of Design, so let's get past that, or is that just my shame talking? hmm. ok. start again. i can do this.

This picture symbolizes where I am right now. I am still inside a dark tunnel, a darkness that surrounds me on both sides. It's been a series of difficult steps to get to where I am, to this current darkness, where I'm in too far to even see the fading fluorescent fake lights behind me, and not far along enough to see the brilliant natural light at the other end of this thing. My mouth is still covered. I am still unable to speak, unable to tell my story yet. But my eyes are up, I am hopeful, my hands are reaching, too. I know in my heart, I have faith, that there is green grass, a blue sky, and a beautiful bright sun out there. Just can't see them with my eyes yet. Don't know how long this tunnel is, but each step is making me stronger. and I'm not dead yet, so I guess it's true, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

I've got more to say, more to muddle through. But some must wait till tomorrow. just too tired.

goodnight, aufweiderzehn, buenes noches, beans and nachos? guten nacht, tschuss!

zzzzzzzz. tempted to throw up another sleeping selfie here but....nah.

 

 

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Critical Awareness

So tonight's my last class. A bit sad about that, I've learned so much and really started to connect with the other "students". Still, we haven't finished the book, so I'll have some good beach reading for next week. Not your typical lazy beach reading, of course, but something meaty, life-changing. Like this topic we're covering now and will explore more in-depth tonight....that of critical awareness.

Defined,

Critical awareness is the belief that we can increase our personal power by understanding the link between our personal experiences and larger social systems. Awareness is knowing something exists, critical awareness is knowing why it exists, how it works, how our society is impacted by it and who benefits from it.

huh?? ok, here's an example. There are social-community expectations of appearance, in such things as hair, skin, weight, clothing, fitness, etc. These expectations exist to keep us spending our valuable resources-money,time and energy- on trying to meet some ideal that is not achievable. Did you know that Americans spend more each year on beauty than we do on education? It's a huge industry! So you have all these expectations, realistic or not. You cannot be all these things all of the time. What would happen if someone perceives you as not living up to these expectations? Can you control how others perceive you? How do you try? By answering these questions and linking that information to what you are experiencing, you move toward resilience by learning to see the big picture. Learning that you are NOT the only one feeling that way, and you can demystify the whole game by sharing what you know with others. Beat the system, so to speak.

ok, enough lecture. Personal experience here. Sort of related, I think... I am learning to recognize when I am feeling bad about some area of my life, but before getting down on myself, I quickly think about what is triggering it, and why I am especially vulnerable to this type of "attack" or trigger. Then, I will often go racing off to my journal to jot it down, helps me figure out my thinking to put it down on paper. Recent example: Having someone use Scripture in a way that nags at an area of perceived guilt (shame) for me. Realizing what was happening, I quickly ran and googled the Bible verse, read some commentaries and learned that this was an often-misquoted verse, used to try to command God what to do, or to condone one's actions by saying that God would bless what they are doing. Put that into a particular relational context, and that trigger can really feel like that knife that stabs and then twists, twists, and tears open those old shame-induced wounds. I'm not going to let that happen. Sure, I love God's Word. But I will go to it in an attitude of prayer, look at the surrounding verses, and let it speak to me on that level, not let one verse out of nowhere catch me off guard and make me feel miserable.

sigh. Enough rant. I may have more to say after tonight. Hopefully less rant, more encouraging insights.

have a good one,

ping!

 

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