We are Children of God

I did a talk on Saturday for a Day of Prayer. The subject was God's Love and the title of my talk was Cherished by God.

In this talk I share my reflections on how much God loves us and how some of us have a hard time internalizing this so it changes our lives. Especially those of us who have been abused.

Then I witnessed a little about my abuse and about how God has helped me and the people who have helped me.

Then I ended with the story of what happened last summer when my son decided not to invite my father to his wedding.

Here is part of what I said at the end:

God is just crazy about us.
Julian of Norwich wrote - “...we are God’s happiness and God finds endless enjoyment in us, and we shall in him, by his grace.”

And one of my favorite scripture verses on this subject -
Zephaniah 3:17-18The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a mighty savior; He will rejoice over you with gladness, and renew you in his love, He will sing joyfully because of you, as one sings at festivals. 

I am starting to make God’s love for me the foundation of my life. I talk about it, I write about it, I encourage those who come to me for spiritual direction. 

Kind of like the Samaritan woman. She receives life from Jesus and she goes out to bring this life to others. She goes out to bring others to the well of living water.

God loves us. But there are, however, outside and within us, strong voices that try to tell us something different.

My youngest son, Brian, got married last August. We were so looking forward to the wedding, to celebrate with him his love and his joy.
But there was one small dark cloud hovering over me, hanging out in the back of my mind.
My father.
My son had made the decision not to invite my father. I understood the decision and supported it.
Part of me was relieved. Part of me was scared to death.
Because I knew, it was time. It was finally time to tell the one person in the family who did not know about the sexual abuse. My stepmother.
I had begged my father for years to tell her. But he refused. When my book came out, I begged him again. Did he want her to find out this way? But he refused.
I wanted him to tell her so I would be free of the secret.
I wanted him to tell her so he would also be free. No worrying about her finding out. No more lying and hiding in the dark.
But he wanted me to shut up about it. He was angry that I wrote the book. He was angry that I had told my sons.
He still wanted me to keep the Big Secret that he had forced me to keep as a child.
The secret that was toxic to all of us.
He did not know nor did he want to understand, that telling my Big Secret was a major part of my healing.
Now I was giving him no choice. He had to tell my stepmother the truth because she would wonder why she was not invited to the wedding.
He stalled, he lied, he tried manipulating me. Finally I told him -
You tell her or I will tell her.
And when he told her, she was angry too. Not only at him, but at me and soon, in a scenario that is very common, they both turned on me.
My friends, my sister, my husband, other survivors - they all tried to get me to back away, to separate myself from them. I was being abused again, emotionally and verbally.
Finally I did. I turned away. I cut them out of my life.
And then, I felt guilty. Was I doing the right thing? Would God approve of this?

So I talked to people I knew and trusted.
I spoke to priests. I spoke to friends. I spoke to my husband.

And they all said the same thing to me - Your father is not willing to change, after all these years. You need to protect yourself.

And then I emailed a therapist I know and I will never forget some of the things he wrote to me. He told me that the best thing about all this coming to a head was my son's decision not to invite my father. He said that "... any good son would want to protect his mother. You have a very good son to stand up and do what is right. ... enjoy your son's wedding and the love and respect he has for you.
Remember who your real father is as he will never abuse you...”.
And so, finally free of guilt and grief, I went to the wedding and watched my son enjoy his special day. I could hardly take my eyes off of him, never tiring of watching him smile and dance and hold his bride.
And I felt such deep abiding joy. I felt joy for him and joy for me.
For I knew my son loved me.
And out of love, he had helped to set me free.
And I will never forget the moment when my son took my hand and he whirled me around the dance floor til I got dizzy and all I could do was laugh.
I laughed and I laughed.
I laughed high and long. And it sounded to me like I had a fountain of living water springing up inside of me.
We are people of value.
We are loved and cherished and nourished.

We are the precious children of God.

Is It My Turn To Fly?

I found this song by Susan Boyle  - Who I Was Born to Be - to post on my Catholic blog, Thoughts on Grace. It was Music Monday and the words to this song really touched me.

This is my favorite line -And it feels like my turn to fly 

The last verse also moved me deeply - 

When I was a child

There were flowers that bloomed in the night

Unafraid to take in the light

Unashamed to have braved the dawn

Imagine being unashamed to brave the dawn ... I might feel that way now. Most of the time. But I didn't as a child .. 

But do we see ourselves now as children of God, and we see ourselves as flowers now, blooming in the night, unafraid to take in the light, unashamed to brave the dawn ...

Being brave does not mean you are not afraid. I am sometimes afraid ... even now. I am afraid when I share my story and yet there is an overwhelming need to do so.

Having courage is being afraid and yet going ahead and doing what you need to do or have to do anyway. Living life the best we can.

Here is the song followed by the lyrics:

When I was a child

I could see the wind in the trees

and I heard a song in the breeze

it was there, singing out my name

But I am not a girl

I have known the taste of defeat

and I have finally grown to believe

it will all come around again

And though I may not know the answers

I can finally say I am free

And if the questions led me here, then

I am who I was born to be

And so here am I

Open arms and ready to stand

I've got the world in my hands

And it feels like my turn to fly

And though I may not know the answers

I can finally say I am free

And if the questions led me here, then

I am who I was born to be

When I was a child

There were flowers that bloomed in the night

Unafraid to take in the light

Unashamed to have braved the dawn

And though I may not know the answers

I can finally say I am free

And if the questions led me here, then

I am who I was born to be

I am who I was born to be

Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse - January 2010

January Blog Carnival Against Child Abuse is up at Mind Parts blog hosted by Paul. Many great posts listed there and I cannot wait to read them. It is a wonderful way to read other blogs you may not have come across and meet other survivors. Thanks Paul for the great job putting them altogether!

Learning to Care for Myself

Looking at the pictures of survivors on the Let Go Let Peace Come In video, I was reminded of how the pictures of me as a little girl have helped me in my own healing.

As an adult, I would get so angry whenever I heard about the sexual abuse of a child. But I never got angry about my own abuse. Or let me put it this way - I never expressed my anger. I probably internalized it and it came out in other ways.

I read somewhere that survivors of child sexual abuse often feel that they are not worth getting angry over. So many survivors end up in some kind of helping profession - teacher, nurse, etc. - always trying to help others because we could not help ourselves.

So it was suggested that we survivors look at pictures of ourselves as children so we can feel sympathy toward that little one who was hurt so bad and perhaps then be able to express some anger, in a healthy way, of course.

So, one of the pictures I looked at was this one posted here. I saw a cute dog and a cute little girl. There was one thing that bothered me about this picture though. The eyes.

They look sad.

So I got angry. For the first time I expressed some anger about what was done to that little girl. What was done to ME.

And I felt good about that. And I felt compassion for that little girl. And I decided right then and there that I was going to take better care of her. I was going to take better care of me.

I have not always taken good care of myself. But I am getting better at it all the time. I am learning to feel compassion for the little girl that is me.

Taking Care of Myself

My sister and I have been discussing our health issues lately. Both of us suffer from quite a few problems. (I wish to protect my sister's privacy so will just discuss my specific issues here).

Many of my problems are gynecological and urological issues. Interesting. I read somewhere once that survivors of sexual abuse will often have these problems because of the Secret. It is as if our body is telling the world what our voices can't.

I have never been one who wanted to go to the doctor. I often ignore symptoms, thinking they will go away. I once walked around with a kidney stone for 3 weeks before going to the doctor. He couldn't believe that I was able to wait that long. What he didn't know was that the pain of sexual abuse is much worse than any physical pain. I have always had high pain tolerance.

Another issue is that sense of not thinking I am worth taking care of, so I wait a long time before going to the doctor. I don't want to bother him.
I have not treated my body very well over the years either. My abuser didn't respect my body. So why should I? I used to smoke. I still struggle with overeating. I know I am an emotional eater. No doubt about that.

I am not going to blame my abuser for the fact that I have had kidney stones. But his abuse of my body certainly taught me from an early age that my body was not worth caring for. There was so much pain associated with my body that I wished to ignore it. I am trying to overcome that now. But it is hard to change this overnight.

It took me years to even realize that all of this was happening. Now I try to take better care of myself and to treat myself - my mind and my heart and my body and my soul - with more care. It is not easy. It is still a struggle but one I try to work at, every day.

Let Go Let Peace Come In Video

Let Go...Let Peace Come In Foundation has made a video on YouTube to tell people about their foundation and their mission to help adult survivors of sexual abuse. The video is 10 minutes long and gives some of the stats about child sexual abuse. There are also quotes from survivors and some pictures that survivors have submitted to their website including yours truly! My picture is at 6:28 of the video. It is one of the pictures of me as a little girl wtih my dog!  The video is well done. So check it out!

An Award

Lisa at The Hues of My Mind gave me this award - The Beautiful Blogger Award! I appreciate this award very much and I thank Lisa for her kindness. Be sure to check out her blog.

I pass this award on to all my blogging friends who visit this blog and support me and each other. I feel grateful to belong to such a caring and supportive community. Blessings to all!

Just A Twinge

I watched a beautiful moment on the evening news. A soldier had returned home from Iraq and he surprised his teenage daughter at her school. She jumped into his arms, hugging him and kissing him. She later told the newsman how close she is to her dad and she was so glad to have him home.

It was a good story. Happy news. But I felt that twinge in my heart. I would have loved a relationship like that with my father. Seeing that film makes me feel a bit sad. The moment goes by and I am fine.

But still.
And I wonder, does that longing for a loving, caring daddy ever go away?

My Talk

My talk on Tuesday went very well. I told my story and had a question and answer period afterward which went very well. It is the first time I have done that and it provided an opportunity to teach more about the effects of the abuse.

I am so amazed. The joy I felt in telling my story. It happens all the time. I wrote about this on my Catholic blog yesterday. It is as if I become this other person. Confident. Self assured. Joyful.

Maybe it is knowing I am doing what God wants me to do.

Maybe it is knowing that a few more people now know more about child sexual abuse and its effects.

Maybe it is knowing that I no longer need to keep this secret.

Maybe it is knowing that I can be the voice for a survivor who is sitting in the audience, who cannot share her/his story.

Doing these talks brings meaning to my life. As I told the women yesterday, I long to bring God's light into the darkness.

So whatever the reason, I am glad I can do this. Even though I become afraid and unsure of myself before my talk (and sometimes after as well), I am truly thankful.

Thank you all for your support and prayers.

Thank you, Lord, for this gift.

Sisters

Sarah at Writing posted about her sister and their relationship. Reading her post and others' comments made me think about my own sister and how we have dealt with everything over the years.

I am the oldest of 4 children. 2 boys and 2 girls. My sister is 5 years younger than me. When I found out our father had abused her, too, I felt guilty. Should I have known? And should I have done something to protect her? If I had reported my father, then he would not have abused her

But I was only about 9 when he started abusing her. I was just a kid myself, trying to survive. I didn't understand what was being done to me. I was not responsible. It was not my fault.

But still ...

My head understands. My heart, not so much.

My sister and I are different. We have different personalities. We handled the aftermath, the work of healing, the years since the abuse, differently. But we support each other. We understand each other.

And I go to sleep at night, knowing that there is at least one other person in this world who knows exactly how I feel.