I hate you...don't leave me.

For my mother...


You were my first love
And also my first disappointment
Did you ever love me?
Even a little bit?
Or was I only the fulfillment of your
Obligation
How can one love
The millstone around their own neck
The thick, heavy, clanking chain
That forever ties you to your past
And regret

What do you see when you look at me?
Can you see past the walls at all
Anymore
Or are they too thick, too high, too wide?
Even if you could see past and through and around them
As well as the log in your own eye
Would the "me" that you see
Be "good enough"?
Why do I try...
Why do I cry...

The truth is I've grown too weary
Far too old and tired
To keep jumping through the hoops
Dancing as fast as I can
Driven beyond and in search of your approval...
Or applause or laughter or tears or anger...
Your love
That never comes
I'm too tired now
To chase after it any more
On this day I will say I give up
And give in
That I'm done and it really doesn't matter
Anymore
But my love for you
Is the millstone around my own neck
A thick, heavy, clanking reminder
For as long as I draw breath
That no matter what I did or didn't do
I was never good enough to be loved by you.


Kelly Clarkson "Because of You"

Beauty From Pain

Watch Superchick's Beauty From Pain here

Forever and 1/2 A Day...

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. I am a survivor of both rape and domestic violence. I wanted to share with you a piece of prose from some writings I hope to read at a Loud Voices event locally this month. Please...if you or anyone you know is in any kind of dating or domestic abuse situation call your local authorities and get out!! It will always, always get worse. May God bless you and keep you.



Forever and 1/2 a day

...that's what you would always say
As you got ice for my swollen face, through letters, over phone lines
Collect calls from jail
"I NEED BAIL!"

"But I will love you Liskee-for forever and 1/2 a day....this is ALL YOUR FAULT anyway!!"

However,
I can still taste the blood
And feel the jagged edges of my broken teeth
As my tongue darted across them
In fear and disbelief

Maybe I am all the things you say I am
Pathetic, Stupid, Ugly
But what about her?
She's not yet 2...just a baby...so perfect
What did she do
To deserve to live in this Hell
That burns hotter with each passing moment
This Hell that knows no end
This Hell that will last "forever and 1/2 a day"

I ran barefoot down that gravel road
On that cold February night
Only the light of the moon lit my path
Gripping her tight to my chest I prayed
"God!! Please rescue us!"
My answer came as you grabbed my long hair
Snatching me backward off my feet and path
I watched her fall in the dirt
As.  If.  It.  Took.  Hours.
With a growl dripped in Bacardi and hate
You swore "Do that again and I will kill you both"

But I will love you Liskee, forever and 1/2 a day
I will just never let you get away
Ever.
I haunt you to this very day
Go ahead and sleep with the light on every night
You silly cow
I occupy not your room, but your mind
You can't run from me now

I kept my promise Liskee
I didn't lie this time Liskee
Wherever you go, I will be there Liskee
Forever and 1/2 a day.

Death Is Nothing At All ~for my Grandma

My first birthday without her...memories of her making me a  Buckwheat Cake birthday dinner, bringing her a caramel apple from the fair...how she loved autumn. 

Death is nothing at all.

I have only slipped away to the next room.

I am I and you are you.

Whatever we were to each other, 

That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.

Speak to me in the easy way

which you always used.

Put no difference into your tone.

Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed

at the little jokes we enjoyed together.

Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.

Let my name be ever the household word

that it always was.

Let it be spoken without effect.

Without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.

It is the same that it ever was.

There is absolute unbroken continuity.

Why should I be out of mind

because I am out of sight? 

I am but waiting for you.

For an interval.

Somewhere. Very near.

Just around the corner.

All is well. 

Henry Scott Holland

Mercy in the Middle

It was the summer of 1976...I was getting ready to turn 10 years old that September. My family and I lived in a townhouse/apartment complex in the small town in rural West Virginia where I was born.  I was a "tom boy"-all pigtails and dirt-and loved spending dawn to dusk playing out side everyday and trying to master the skateboard I got the previous Christmas from Santa. There was a nice, friendly,  elderly man who lived in one of the bottom apartments next to our town home who would always wave and say "Hello" as he carried his groceries in from his car. I can still see that car. It was a 4 door olive green sedan. One day after he had been to the grocery store he was sitting on his front porch and called me over and presented a big bag of Brachs Candy which was sold in bulk at our local grocery. He asked me if I would like some, and I of course eagerly said "Yes!"   As I was exploring all the goodies in the white bag with it's trademark pink and purple stripes around the center something so strange happened. This man reached down the front of my tank top and began rubbing my chest.  Now I was brought up to not question my elders and I just remember feeling afraid so I grabbed a few pieces of candy, and said "thank you" over my shoulder as I ran back toward my house.   As time went by he became more and more insistent that I "come visit him" on his porch or in his car and he would always give me candy and rub my private parts and attempted to expose himself to me. At 9 1/2  I didn't know I was being molested.  I didn't even know what that meant, but even at that young age I instinctively knew that something was very, very wrong and found it upsetting on the deepest of levels.   I can't remember if he told me not to tell anyone, but I was too ashamed to. I wish I could tell you why I went back each time he called me over, but I don't really know for sure.  I think I was afraid not to go because he might tell my parents something bad about me and I would get into trouble. He began to pressure me and he was old enough to be my grandfather and I tried to respect his wishes for "a visit" and hope and pray the next time would be different and he wouldn't touch me.  My prayers went unanswered.

Later that summer, he died. I remember seeing the ambulance in the parking lot and watching them wheel his body out covered with a white sheet.  Everyone in the neighborhood was gathered around talking about what a tragedy it was that he died alone.  I had such mixed emotions. Part of me was thankful he was gone and I wouldn't have to endure the shame and anxiety of what I was feeling or any more "visits".  I was happy, angry, confused, relieved, and sad all at the same time. I thought you were always supposed to feel just feel really sad when someone died, weren't you?

Child molestation is rampant in this country.  Current statistics state that 1 out of ever 4 girls will be sexually molested by the time they graduate high school...and 1 out of ever 6 boys.   I was one of the "lucky" ones because it didn't last long...just that summer in '76, but some young girls endure this for years....every day...every night.  Let's face it, ONCE is too many times and can leave life long damage.   In 1991 I heard a song by Amy Grant about childhood sexual abuse called "Ask Me".  I have listened to this song hundreds if not thousands of times and it helped so much to heal what was so broken inside of me for so long.

Thanks for this song Amy. Now I have found a peace that has only come from God. He has made me feel whole again and has healed these wounds over time with His grace and unconditional love.   I still sleep with a night light in the hall but He is working on me.  I have been renewed by the blood of Christ. "Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassion's never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness (Lamentations 3:22-23).   No matter what has happened, the word promises "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present or the future, nor any powers, neither height or depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:38)

This is a fallen world filled with every imaginable evil but we are told to take heart "for everyone born of God overcomes the world..." (1 John 5:4)


 If you or anyone you know is a victim of sexual abuse, please don't put off seeking help. The 24 hour hot line is 800-656-HOPE.

I see her as a little girl hiding in her room
She takes another bath and she sprays her mommas perfume
To try to wipe away the scent he left behind
But it haunts her mind.

You see she's his little rag, nothing more than just a waif
And he's mopping up his need, she is tired and afraid
Maybe shell find a way through these awful years to disappear.

Ask me if I think there's a God up in the heaven
Where did he go in the middle of her shame? 
Ask me if I think there's a God up in the heavens
I see no mercy and no one down here's naming names
Nobody's naming names.

Now she's looking in the mirror at a lovely woman face
No more frightened little girl, like she's gone without a trace
Still she leaves the light burning in the hall
Its hard to sleep at all.

Still she crawls up in her bed acting quiet as a mouse
Deep inside she's listening for a creaking in the house
But no ones left to harm her, she's finally safe and sound
There's a peace she's found.

Ask her how she knows there's a God up in the heaven
Where did he go in the middle of her shame? 
Ask her how she knows there's a God up in the heavens
She said his mercy is bringing her life again.

She said his mercy is bringing her life again
She's coming to life again.

He's in the middle of her pain
In the middle of her shame
Mercy brings life
He's in the middle
Mercy in the middle.



Check out this neat video for Amy's "Ask Me" here

Washed Away

ATTENTION:  This is NOT a picture of an attempted drowning.  This is me (the one holding her nose) at the split second before I was laid under the cool lake water for my baptism last Sunday.  Many of you that know me, or at least know my story, know that I prayed the sinners prayer when I was 12 years old in a little church in Kingwood, WV.  It was equal parts of being crazy in love with Jesus and being scared to death after our youth group watched "A Thief in the Night".  If you attended a Christian church in the 70's or 80's you know what I'm talking about! ;0)  It was several years after that (at age 18) I was baptized (full immersion, of course..it was, after all, in a Southern Baptist church) in Lubbock, TX.  In years that followed I was "sprinkled" countless times through what I refer to simply as "The Catholic Years" at various services and celebrations, so why the need to be baptized now, just a few weeks shy of my 45th birthday? (by the way, if a woman will tell you her age, she will tell you anything ;)

This was my second "full dip".  I know that "double dipping" chips into condiments and sauces is considered bad form at parties and picnics, but I'm not so sure that applies to baptisms.  There are some who believe getting baptized, whether it was your choice or not (in the case of infant baptism) is one of those things that once done can be checked of the ol' bucket list for good.  I'm not going to get into all of the theology of why I don't believe in infant baptism (I DO however believe in infant dedication where the baby's parents present the child to the congregation and take an oath to bring that child up in the way of the Lord) and I'm not going to try to refute those who say if you got baptized at any time after you accepted Christ, then you're done.  You see, there is so much grey area here, and I think it is fair to say that God deals with each person's heart in a very unique, individualistic way.  I know for me that a) I was saved at 12 years old, b) I was baptized in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit at 18, but that was not the end of the story.  Actually, that is precisely when things began to get a little dicey and, shortly after that, they just went screaming downhill at warp speed, completely out of control.  Over the next 20+ years (you're welcome to do the math ;) I was lost in every way a human can be lost.  Oh, I went to different churches, bible studies, TV evangelists, sought out pastoral counseling, being "spiritual" instead of being "religious" and tried to be a "good person" fairly regularly (although there were some serious dry years during that time) and while there were several times over the years when I thought "I'm really gonna do this.  I'm really going to seek Him.  I'm really going to give Him control over it all this time", I never really followed through.  I couldn't pull it together.  I wasn't strong enough.  I thought it was all up to me and I proved to myself on a daily basis that I was not up for the job.  I was a failure.

At least that's what the father of lies wanted me to keep believing.

Thankfully, just about four years ago (on my birthday) my daughter and I were in a potentially fatal car accident.  Yes, I said "thankfully".  Sometimes it takes a Dodge Durango landing in your lap for that "Jesus Take the Wheel" song to make perfect sense.  I've reached a HNL (Hole Nutha' Level) in my walk with Christ.  Don't get me wrong, these four years haven't been pretty, in fact they have been the hardest four years of my life in too many ways to count, but I can honestly say that if I had to do them all over again-cry the river of tears, be ostracized, betrayed, abused, lied to and lied about, as well as loosing everything...and I do mean EVERYTHING (think Job)-I would do it to get to this place...this place of knowing His peace, His unconditional love, grace, and mercy.  To not be afraid of everything and anything.  To know true freedom.  To feel richer now than when I had much, much more possessions, health, friends, fame, family...

Now THAT is a reason to celebrate.

THAT is a reason to declare victory.  THAT is why I walked into that cold water last Sunday and felt sheer joy oozing from every pore.  I'm so glad I didn't get caught up in what people might have thought about me.  It was a me-and-my-God moment and it was glorious.  You see, my second baptism was everything the first was not-it was a symbol of the work God and I have put in...a symbol of the two of us in the yoke.  I finally let his blood wash away my sins just like in that old hymn I sang when I was 12 (see Nothing But The Blood of Jesus video here).  I finally forgave myself for my past.  I stopped thinking there was something I could do to "earn" God's love.  I finally stopped trying to perform for everyone except for my Audience of One.



"We were therefore buried with Him through baptism into death in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the father, we too may live a new life.  If we have been united with Him like this in His death, we will certainly also be united with Him in His resurrection." Romans 6:4-5

Bitter? or Better?

As I wrap up my Summer '11 classes and focus on papers and finals, I thought I would bring back another blog post from '08. I know that when I wrote this God was really teaching me a lot about where my focus should be, and how when I choose to hang my hopes on mere mortals I will eventually be let down. I came to realize that pain is a protector. We are never meant to rely completely on ourselves or others, but on the One who can never betray or disappoint. My love to you all...

Several years ago when I was a young Christian I was speaking with my Pastor about disappointment. He told me, "Eliska, everyone in your life will disappoint you at one time or another. Your family, friends, children, and spouse will all fall short. Even I will disappoint you." I quickly replied, "Oh no Pastor! You could NEVER disappoint me!" Sure enough, just a few weeks later I was speaking with him and he said something that hurt my feelings. Upon closer examination of those feelings I realized I was (gasp!) DISAPPOINTED in him! Now disappointment is not a comfortable emotion for me to experience. I don't know what to do with it. When I'm happy, I laugh. When I'm sad, I cry. When I'm angry, I've been known to raise my voice. However, disappointment just sits there. All you can do is just feel it. 

Where does disappointment come from? Well, if we were to be honest, we would see that it originates with us. We can not be disappointed with someone's behavior unless we first place an expectation on that person. We hope they will react in a particular way in a given situation. The hard truth is that those closest to us have the ability to disappoint us most. It is easy to think, "If they REALLY loved me or cared about me they would never have said/done THAT!" I have found myself in prayer asking God to change the person who hurt and disappointed me. I have actually heard these words come out of my mouth: "Dear Lord, please change so-and-so! He is so CLUELESS!" Maybe the better thing to do when I feel disappointed is to pray that God will change ME so that I can better deal with the disappointment...that He would make me better, instead of bitter. After all, we are dealing with humans down here, and they will disappoint. As Christians faced with disappointment our challenge is to be "Christ-like" in our response. Continue to love, not turn our back on, and forgive in spite of the circumstances and the other person's "humanness".

Because most likely, at some point, we will be be the one doing the disappointing instead of being the disappointed. 

What happens, however, when events disappoint us? When life in general isn't going as we hoped? Who do we feel disappointed in then? God? 

Gods Word tells us in Ephesians 1:11 that God "...works out everything in conformity with the purpose of His will." So does that mean He actually allows disappointment? Yep. 

At this point, we have a choice. Do we get bitter or angry because God isn't doing what we think He should be doing when we think He should be doing it? Or do we have faith that He knows better for us? Can we look past our disappointing circumstances to see that perhaps there is something we need to learn through all of this? Do we stop putting expectations and timetables on God's Blessings?

I think sometimes God allows troubles and disappointments so that we can see this life on earth for what it really is: imperfect and temporary. I think Paul illustrates this best in 2 Corinthians 4:18, "So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

We will never be disappointed when we choose to follow His leading and conform our ways to His, instead of us trying to conform His ways to ours.  I am a huge fan of singer/activist Bono.  One of my favorite quotes of his reflects this ideal.  "...stop asking God to bless what you're doing. Get involved in what God is doing -- because it's already blessed."  


Choose to be blessed.  It's a beautiful day.


Check out U2's "It's A Beautiful Day" video here