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Archive for August, 2010

no thank you…

as much trouble as I have in fully trusting god, in believing he loves me still after all I have done, I realized today that it is nothing compared to how much I don’t trust other people

I have spent the last 3 hours crying, not understanding why or what I was crying about – and I finally realized I was crying for how alone I am – and I also realized what brought this to me

last night we only saw one woman in the truck stop parking lot – I got a hygeine bag and brought it over to her and tried to give it to her, but she wouldn’t take it – she just kept saying, “no thank you, I don’t need anything”, and it confused me – I told her it was free, just a small way that we show love to people, but she wouldn’t take it, and I didn’t understand

today I understand that I do the very same thing all the time – I refuse to let people love me, to let them see me vulnerable and weak, to let the walls around my heart down far enough that the wounds are visible — because my experiences have taught me that if I let them in, they will rip what’s left of my heart to shreds – and so I do my crying alone

throughout this entire journey toward healing, I have harbored a sneaking suspicion that god’s love for me changed when I rebelled and walked away from him at 11yrs old – that he forgave me, but loved me less…

and the thing that fuels that suspicion more than anything else is the fact that he doesn’t come hold me anymore when the pain overwhelms me

always when I was child, after my dad left my bed, left my heart shattered and my breath gone to sobbing, I would feel god’s arms around me – he would surround me and hold me tightly as I cried until I knew it was okay, that he loved me in the place of the father who should have, and I fell back asleep

he doesn’t do that now, and I’ve been trying to believe that he loves me just as much even though I don’t feel him hold me anymore

and today he told me that’s what the community he’s given me is for – that I need to let them hold me – that what “bear one another’s burdens” really means is to share the pain across the shoulders of many – to receive his love through them

and just like that girl at the truck stop last night, I have been saying, no thank you…

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shame…

it’s been a while, I know – a lot has gone on since I last posted…

– after praying about it and meeting with natalie and alliece, I decided to head up the truck stop outreach – so far, we have 5 women on the team, and we are headed down to la place for our first outreach tonight – matt yglesias from the ring is graciously going along with us for safety as no men are on the team

I’m not sure yet how this outreach will best be done, but I’m sure god has a plan – my plan is just to show up… please be in prayer for safety and for hearts in the right place

meanwhile, in my own healing, I took quite a few steps backward over the last two months — it’s easy to talk about what is necessary for healing to occur – it’s not so easy to actually go through it…

since april, my perception of what went on in my childhood has been undergoing a 180° shift – from seeing myself as in control and choosing to use my body to manipulate men into giving me what I needed, to seeing myself as being controlled and used by men to satisfy their own twisted needs

that the “choices” I made as a child were not really choices at all, because they were made based upon the lies I had been fed all my life

that I was not a depraved monster, but a victim of the depravity of others

and though I “technically” understood this, apparently that’s not enough for healing to happen — god started to break open the scars, and it hurt – a lot – and I ran

I guess the corkscrew illustration of the journey is right, because I didn’t run as far back as I used to before I turned around again…

this morning I had the coming truck stop outreach on my mind and I remembered my first trucker…

I was 12 and had run away from my first foster home and it was raining and I was hitchhiking – I had some crazy plan to go to springfield, where I was born, and find my real mom… anyway, an 18-wheeler pulled over and I climbed up in the cab – the trucker asked me where I was going and I told him, and he put his hand on my leg and said he might be willing to bring me to the truck stop at I290 and help me find someone going that far if I gave him a little something in return – he was rubbing my thigh and I knew what he wanted and I said, “and buy me some food too”, as I opened my leg further – he laughed and got the truck back on the road – it was only about a 10 minute drive to the truck stop and when he parked, I shut off my heart and I got in the sleeper and let him do what he wanted…

always before when that memory came to mind, I felt hard, dirty, guilty, and even slightly proud of doing what it took to survive on my own

this morning all I felt was pain…

it was like god turned my heart back on and I felt everything the way I should have felt it back then…

that I was young and scared, that he was old and stinky, that it hurt and I didn’t want what he was doing to me —

then I cried like a baby for the larger part of an hour…

…and I think maybe a little of the shame I live with is gone now

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