Women Of Worth - WOW!

FRAGILE! ~ HANDLE WITH CARE!

2005-05-06T14:53:00.000+10:00

'God will cover you with feathers, and under God's wings you will find refuge' Psalm 91:4a

I'm glad you're here with me today, my only true friend. I'm convinced no-one has any idea of my pain right now. It doesn't seem to matter how hard I try to be enjoyable and positive company and fun to be with. Inevitably I get tired, nauseous, and giddy, and then I become unwell. At that time I feel rebuffed, and in my eyes it always seems to be my fault. I know the whole behavior is a performance, an 'act' to hide my inner pain, but it simply re-enforces the belief that I am only acceptable when I am well, and bright, cheerful, smiling and happy.

The real person inside feels like a piece of shattered crystal. It is as if I am cut, spiked, and bleeding, and I want to cry, be held and comforted. I would love to be told it is not my fault, that the crystal can be glued together again, and even if it takes time, it will eventually be restored.

Consequently, I am very fragile today. Somehow I feel that I will have to force to hide the true shattered me. I must again put on my bright, happy mask I learnt to use as a child. ("You must 'smile', my dear", Mother would always say!).

It's sad, really, but grown up people can be just as demanding for 'good company' as children were when I was small. In fact grown-up people, especially those closest to me, can hurt me just as easily, because they know the flaws that lie within.

I hate wearing masks, I really do, but I am so scared of more criticism and more 'put downs' that right now it seems that this is my only option. I can feel myself drawing right back into my cocoon, where no-one will see the real me, the 'shattered crystal'. It is only by withdrawing that I feel secure enough to face the day ahead.

The most amazing thing is, Jesus, that I know you will be in this cocoon with me, accepting me right there. You will stay there, and you won't push me out or ridicule me because I have back-tracked.You're not frightened of negative emotions, because you know how it feels to be 'shattered crystal'. You, too, much more than me, have been constantly misunderstood, rebuffed, and blamed for behaving differently to the 'crowd'.

So, I'm going to hide in my cocoon today, and perhaps tomorrow, or even for weeks, until I feel safe again. I know I won't be alone, but with you, my dearest friend, my comfort and my support. No matter where I go, you are with me, and I know you will support me until I find the courage to peep out into the world again. You are not only trustworthy, but have also promised to perfect and make me completely strong. But I will need to co-operate with the help I need, and I'm prepared to do just that.

While this slow, and painful process is continuing, I know you will protect me completely.

PRAYER: Dear Jesus, it is so wonderful to know that you hold me in the hollow of your hands, and cover me over with your wings. You will never leave me or find my true self unacceptable because I react differently from other people's expectations, real or imagined. With you, there are no 'should' behaviors, because you understand why I am the person that I am now, and you also know what beautiful crystal you are making out of all the shattered splinters I am experiencing inside my heart today. I really need You today, just to survive. It is great to know that I am totally accepted by you. Amen.

TODAY: Find a beautiful crystal bowl, a vase, a glass, or any wonderful artwork you admire.It might even be in a shop. Gaze upon it's beauty, looking at it from every angle to see the whole piece combining to form one magnificent whole. Remind yourself that Jesus is making you, too, into a special and unique work of art, and far more precious than any man-made crystal bowl. It may take time, but you will certainly be made whole as you daily place yourself under the wings and protection of the of the Almighty One.

2002. Julie-Anne Wingate.

Women Of Worth - WOW! http://womenofworth.blogspot.com

I am sure that all of us who have suffered childhood or adult trauma will identify with this article. We all have days when we feel that we are about to fall apart, literally. I wrote this piece on such a day, and I wrote it as a talk to God. If you have days like this, I'd love to support you. Perhaps you have an article you would like to contribute which we could publish. Either way, you are most welcome to contact me at j_anwin@yahoo.com

NEW BEGINNINGS

2005-02-17T11:45:00.000+11:00

Healing begins with one step. The first conscious effort you make to change your life for the better is that first step forward. It's a move toward possibility and renewal. It's a move full of hope.
It doesn't matter if it's a teeny little baby step. It doesn't matter if you take that step and stall right there. The point is you made the effort. You took a first step. It's a beginning.

The first step of a healing journey does mark a new beginning, but be careful how you think of that. The world we live in today urges us to forget the past and forge on with the present. Yesterday's news is old news. We have to keep up to stay in the game. Lag behind and you lose.

That is the attitude circulating through society daily, winding its way into every facet of our lives. When we grow weary of our problems, we remedy them according to the way we were taught.

With a burst of robust resolve, we vow to put them behind us. We say we're going to get a fresh start. We're going to start over again. We're going to cast out the old and bring in the new.

We take a first step. We do something differently, and that becomes the dividing line between the past and the present. Any problems lurking behind the line are to be forgotten, pushed off into nonexistence by sheer willpower. Everything in front of the line is going to be different and better.

It's a new beginning. Unfortunately, when that's how we perceive a new beginning, all too soon and all too often, it comes to an abrupt, disappointing end.

Life is a continuation. No matter how much you wish you could, you can't cut parts of it out and throw them away. Everything you experience becomes a permanent part of your life story the moment it happens.

The events can't be changed, but your understanding and interpretation of them can. You can't start all over again, but you can steer your life's course in a new direction. You can't start anew as if your history does not exist, but as you come to see it in a different light you can integrate it with the present.

When it comes to healing, a new beginning is not a dividing line between past and present. It's the starting point of a process in which you move back and forth between past history, present reality and future dreams. It's the beginning of an exploration that joins past, present and future together with clear vision.

It's the beginning of new learning that will open your heart and mind to the vast potential of your life. It's the point at which your life journey shifted direction because you chose to do something differently.

The healing journey charts a complicated course. There are steep climbs. There are unexpected twists. There are pitfalls and detours. There are pauses.

No matter how far the first step takes you or how long it is before you step again, it's a beginning. A new beginning.

© Sally Scott, M.A., R.C.C. Sally offers support, hope and encouragement to anyone going through life-changing adversity. "Believe in your resilience!". You may contact her at: sally@livingwithheart.com.

Sally also has her own wonderful website: http://www.livingwithheart.com.

Women Of Worth - WOW!: http://womenofworth.blogspot.com.
If you have a story, poem or struggle to share, I would love you to contact me at: j_anwin@yahoo.com. - Let's all support each other! Julie-Anne.

Ways we Handle Our Fears.Pt.1.

2004-12-14T13:56:00.000+11:00

Fear not, for…you are mine. When you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned. For I am the Lord your Savior…and I love you. (Taken from Isaiah 43:1-4).

A lady approached me after Church a little while back. She was obviously upset. She began by telling me she must not be frightened. She admitted to having been fearful that week. She believed this was terribly wrong. She felt she was not living up to her faith by having experienced fear. She thought she should have claimed victory and stood against the fear, as that is what she believed Jesus would have wanted. She believed she had let God down very badly by giving in to those feelings of fear. She added she had now overcome her fear, given it to God, and was no longer afraid.

Then for the next 25 minutes she told me all about her fears!! She was certainly still afraid. She was shaking, her voice quivering, her eyes intense...

I left her after half an hour, only because I had to, and I felt rather sad. Here, this dear lady, had come to Church needing peace and help, and yet she had taken upon herself a sense of condemnation! She believed that all the other worshippers were living victorious, wonderful lives with no problems whatever. How wrong she was!! Probably most of the congregation was facing some type of difficulty or challenge.

This lady had a REAL reason for being afraid. Her husband had nearly died! He has nearly died a couple of times before. During this past week he had suddenly become very ill, and had been rushed to hospital with severe bowel problems. He was still seriously ill in hospital with as yet no diagnosis for his symptoms. Added to that, his brother had died of bowel problems just six weeks after his particular illness appeared, and the illness was a genetic type. She was quite understandably fearful!!

What I believe this lady did was to deny her REAL fear, rather than face it. Couching our fears in spiritual terms it is often a very easy escape mechanism that some Christians employ in order to avoid dealing with important issues, which really need handling. Avoidance is one of the very worst ways to handle our fears. Trying to spiritualize them away simply does not solve them! It is not helpful or honest. It makes us feel guilt and shame when the fears return, as they will until they are handled differently.

Other fears are IMAGINED fears. These are fears that control many lives. They are the ones that often begin with "What if?” statements, and most of them never happen. “What if our house burns down?” or “What if a truck slams through my office window?” These fears usually are unfounded and unlikely to occur, but they cause us so much needless worry and debilitate us for no good reason. These are also fears I believe God wants us to face in an honest manner, and not deny. Often it is much harder to identify IMAGINED fears, as they can be quite nebulous to our consciousness.

Sometimes it is difficult to identify our fears. C.B. Keogh suggests asking four questions, which I have found really helpful:

What exactly am I fearful about?

Is it certain, probable, or only possible?

How important is it?

In practical terms, what can I do about it?

As an abused child, I lived with many REAL fears. I could not sleep at night. I was terrified, all day long, because I never knew what might happen at any given time. There were a few months where I feared for my next meal. I have feared literally for life itself. As a child, these fears are absolutely terrifying because at such a tender age there literally was no way of solving such situations.

As an adult I have had to identify and deal with many once REAL, but now IMAGINED fears. This is one of the biggest challenges for survivors of abuse. It is so easy to still feel the real threat of something, which is now passed. Resolving the REAL fear of sexual contact THEN, as a child, has enabled me to accept that this has now become an IMAGINED fear in a now loving sexual relationship. I talk quite often to women who cannot ever enjoy the sexual component of their marriage because of the damage done to them in this area years before.

This is such a shame. It is not what God has planned. There IS a way through. There IS hope. There ARE answers. Oh, yes, they do not come without effort, and pain, and years of hard work. I have received many years of prayer and counseling, but that makes it all so worthwhile when you reach the finishing straight. Then you can make up for lost time!!!

I am learning to admit my fears to God. I come to my Creator, who sustains me, and I shelter beneath those arms I imagine. I rest. I remain in the 'shadow of the Almighty', as the Bible puts it. I take refuge from the storm about me by staying as close to God as I know how. This God is real, is tough, and endures forever. Nothing is ever going to shake this God of mine.

This gives me the confidence to cry out, and seek help. I pour out all my worries and anxieties. I believe in a God who can cope with ALL my emotions! If God made me, and knows my situation, which the Bible says is true about God, then I feel absolutely certain that this One is there for me, during every phase and development of my entire life. If I cannot be myself with the One who made me, I believe I am deceiving myself.

PRAYER: O Loving Father, help me to recognize REAL fears that I need to face, as I fully lean on you for support. Give me courage and surround me with your love and care. Show me where I can find human help if I need it. May I never be afraid to admit that I am human! Gracious Lord, often my worrying and stewing over what are IMAGINED fears drag me down and hinder my enjoyment of life. Help me to identify these, too, and to seek your help, and whatever other help I need to overcome these too. I trust myself into your precious arms with all my fears. For I know you love me so much. Amen.

TODAY: In your quiet reflections today, ask yourself to identify exactly WHAT it is you fear. Then categorize these fears into REAL and IMAGINED fears, making a list so that you can come back to them and work through them over the next days, weeks, or years. Ask for the Lord’s help in dealing with these fears. Keep the list so that you can remember exactly what you have done today. God bless you!!!

(c). 2002. Christine M. Jones
Christine is married and has several grandchildren. She writes positive and faith-building articles and has her own website called Droplets from Life: www.dropletsfromlife.blogspot.com.

A SPECIAL PLACE

2004-12-08T21:16:00.000+11:00

It has been my privilege to get to know a very special lady - a true WOW! survivor, who would like to be known as 'Butterfly'.

'Butterfly' has recently come out of an extremely difficult marriage. For a while she moved away from God, because she couldn't understand how a God could allow her to suffer such pain.

Recently 'Butterfly' decided to allow God back into her life, just to try again to reach out for the peace she needed to comfort her heart and mind. After coming quietly to God, she wrote this poem. It blesses me each time I read it. I pray that you, too, will find it to be a blessing.

A SPECIAL PLACE.

I've been to a Place I've never been before.
It's a Place of peace and quietness;
It is a Place without fear:
It is a Place where I would love to stay forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I enjoyed it's freedom.
There was no pain;
There was no expectation;
There was no control.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have left this place,
A place I loved so much.
Why I do not know.
I wish to return to this place before tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I now know such a Place exists -
I have been there.
A Place I now desire to go,
A Place I know I can go to again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have been there once;
I can go there again.
I just need to find that road......
I just need to leave my heavy load....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Go to this Place again I will
To feel that smiling, dancing feeling within.
A change of heart will allow me to go;
A change of desires will let me in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Return to this Place I will go!
It is God's Will for me to go.
With His help I will go;

Return to this place

And stay...

I will.

(c). 2004. 'Butterfly'. All Rights Reserved.

No part of this item is to be used by any other person, website, or group without first contacting me at j_anwin@yahoo.com
This is a personal and private site, and those who share do so with courage. Let us support every WOW! survivor with the dignity they feel is needed. I do thank you all for your understanding ~ Julie-Anne.

Women Of Worth - WOW! http://womenofworth.blogspot.com

You may also have an article or story to share. Please email me at j_anwin@yahoo.com with your contributions. If you would like support or a chat, please also email me. I would love to hear from you. Take courage, you are not alone! Julie-Anne Wingate.

THINKING OF 'CHERIE'.

2004-11-14T15:38:00.000+11:00

Yesterday I arrived home from a holiday. Ten minutes home and the phone rang. News about my dear friend Cherie. Cherie had suffered a severe heart attack whilst out at Bingo with her girlfriend. She was rushed to hospital, but had a second heart attack a few hours later and died.
Cold.
Clear cut.
Sudden.
Completely without warning.
The FINALITY of it all echoed and jarred in my ears.
My soul froze.

Why, you ask? This happens every day. Yes, it does. But my friend Cherie was something special. Really special. Not the person you would see in the street and have your heart flutter over. Oh, no, you would probably have dropped your eyes to avoid looking at the downcast, drooped shoulders, the baggy clothes, always clean but somehow shabby even the day after they had been bought. Hair disheveled and covering her eyes. Only one tooth on the upper jaw, right in the front. Never any makeup. Sneakers were her only footwear.

Had Cherie spoken you may have noticed a slight speech impediment. She would have made no eye contact. Probably would have rushed away as soon as she possibly could, spoken the minimum. You would most likely have thought her to be rude, as she puffed on her cigarette.

Let me tell you her story, and you attempt to walk in her shoes for a time - if you dare.

Cherie was dumped at the steps of an orphanage in a large town. Her parents only wanted sons. They actually had seven children, the first a girl, then a boy, followed by five more girls. Cherie was the second youngest in the family. The parents (I feel like saying 'child-bearers' as to me they were no parents), deposited their first baby girl at this orphanage when about three months old.

They kept the boy.
That is what they wanted.
A son and heir.
Gave him a very good life.

After that, as each successive daughter was born, each was dumped at the orphanage steps somewhere between six weeks and three months old. Cherie was six weeks old,the youngest age of any of them. The orphanage provided for the six little girls, placing them all on adoption lists after all the legal work of trying to trace their parents failed. But in 'their wisdom', they decided it best to never tell the children that they were in fact sisters. Cherie found that very hard to bear. She felt it would have helped her to gain a sense of belonging.

Every week, people would come to the city-based orphanage to 'pick out a baby' to adopt. Cherie was a difficult baby. She never fed well. She was not a good sleeper. So the prospective parents always overlooked her. She remembered when about two years old that folk thought she wasn't "pretty enough". Prospective parents, if they wanted a girl, wanted a pretty one, a dainty little girl with blonde curls and dancing blue eyes. So Cherie's dark, thick, straight hair, her dull slate eyes, bulky build and shy disposition meant that week after week she was overlooked.

One time, however, when she was nearly three, a family decided to choose her. They said she would do for what they wanted. When she was placed in their car, she discovered that she had an older brother in her new family, who had also been adopted. They treated him wonderfully.

Cherie was chosen by this family, it would appear, for the sole purpose of abuse. Her mother beat her, tied her hands behind her back, her feet together and her knees locked with fencing wire, and then would tie her to a chair. Cherie knows of no reason why. She was frequently tied up in the hen house, and forced to stay there all day, amongst the odor and filth of the hens, who would peck at her legs and bare feet till they bled. At meal times her brother would be fed steak, while she would not be offered anything so delicious. Once she even recalls that she was forced to eat dog excrement!!

The adoptive father sexually abused Cherie. Began to rape her at about eight years old, and if she refused he would punch her in the face. Consequently, over time, she had all her teeth, apart from that front central one, wrenched out of her mouth.

He told her school teachers she was dumb, because she did not speak clearly. I suspect that not having any teeth was probably the reason why!!! But the teachers believed him, and placed her in the 'dunces' seat, and treated her that way. In those days teachers often did not individually assess children, and consequently, with large class sizes and strict discipline the little Cherie was constantly overlooked, and treated as a 'dunce', until she believed she truly was one.

At fourteen Cherie became pregnant with her adoptive father's child. She desperately wanted to keep her baby; to run away and begin a life of her own. But the father forced her to have an illegal abortion at a shoddy run-down joint somewhere in the inner suburbs. He said it was because she was too dumb to raise a child!

Eventually Cherie left that house - I would never call it a home - and made a life for herself. But she feared to have another child while her parents were alive, in case they talked another doctor into aborting that baby too, because she was so dumb - you see by this time she believed their lies.

When she was almost forty, her parents had finally died, so Cherie decided it was safe to have a baby, without the fear of having a termination forced upon her. She had a little boy, Jeremy. She adored Jeremy. She was the best Mum any little boy could ever have. She loved him like no other Mum I have ever known.

She decided to trace her natural origins, and showing just how intelligent she really was, she negotiated all kinds of legal red tape until she was indeed able to discover her natural sisters and brother. One of her sisters lived overseas, and was just eleven months older than Cherie. Two years ago Cherie and Jeremy visited her sister and spent two glorious months catching up, sharing stories of their life (together but unknown to each other) at the same orphanage, and of their adoptive family situations.

Cherie found that ALL of her sisters had been placed in loving homes except for her. The one from overseas had an especially beautiful adoptive family. This actually sharpened Cherie's pain. Why did her adoptive parents choose her? Why did they treat her the way they did? What did she do to get all this trauma and abuse? All she ever wanted was love.

She found that love through giving her own love to Jeremy. She never spoke of Jeremy's father, so when she died this week, Jeremy who is just in Grade Six in Primary School, searched through Cherie's mobile phone directory and personally rang all her friends to tell them his Mummy had died!!! She was only fifty-one, but the stress her heart and her body has been through was probably just too much. What will happen to Jeremy I do not know. My heart bleeds for him.

She was an innocent victim in an horrendous life of suffering and torture - mentally, sexually and physically, emotionally and psychologically. There are folk just like Cherie in every part of this world. Women, men and children from every strata of life ~ wealth, religion, race, and nationality ~ can be victims to suffering similar to this.

Cherie was working really conscientiously with a trained therapist, and I met her in a support group where all of us gained strength and coping resources from each other. She was courageously facing the pain and attempting at the same time to make some sort of life for herself. She was particularly concerned that Jeremy be raised in a loving environment ~ and he was. She was determined not to repeat the patterns she had been modelled, and was doing a brilliant job.

It is a great shame that her life ended so suddenly, because she was making such huge strides ahead. Cherie was forging along, creating a whole new way of thinking about herself and beginning to trust others.

One of the joys of being an abuse survivor is that I was privileged to know Cherie, and many like her. It is a great honor that God has allowed me to journey with Cherie, and I count her as one of the greatest examples of survival anywhere. She truly was a Woman Of Worth!

(c). 2004. Julie-Anne Wingate.
Note: Names in this real-life story have been changed.

Women Of Worth: http://womenofworth.blogspot.com.

Maybe you are also making a new path for yourself following a history of domestic violence or childhood abuse. If so, I would welcome you to contact me at: j_anwin@yahoo.com. You may write using your real name or any name you like.
If you are right now struggling with issues of this sort, please also contact me at my email address and I will support you privately. We're here to support each other in the growth to wholeness!

COPING WITH 'FLASHBACKS'.

2004-11-04T11:59:00.000+11:00

Most of us Women of Worth (WOW!s) find that sooner or later we begin to experience flashbacks. A flashback is when an old memory suddenly 'flashes' across our minds and then just as suddenly goes away again. I still have frequent flashback experiences, and they can be quite confronting, because they contain extremely powerful emotions as well as a tiny glimpse of memory.

Today I had one which nearly blew me away. I was at my mother's home, and she started talking about how I behaved when I was alittle girl. She asked me if I would like a chocolate, and I declined (as I always do). Then she said, "Oh, Julie-Anne, I should know you never eat sweets. Even as a tiny little girl you hated any type of candy. You would ask me to read a little piece from my Bible rather than get a candy for a reward".

Then suddenly I had a flashback!! I have never remembered this before, but suddenly I could see the five year old little girl, standing terrified in a corner in the house, with my father standing over me. The fear that shook my body with that flashback was just enormous! I was absolutely terrified.

Later that evening I 'unpacked' that flashback again. I replayed it in my head over and over, and gradually more and more of this experience became clear to me. I DID hate candies, chocolates and sweet treat of all kinds!! Oh, yes. I remember now that my father used to trap me, and offer me a candy. Then just as I would reach for it, it was only an offer if he received something in return.

"That's only fair", he would say.

In return for the candy treat, I had to stroke him in a part of his body until he was 'a happy boy'! Once I made him happy, he would make ME happy by giving me the sweet.

Now I know why I have NEVER liked sweets - not chocolates, or licorice, popcorn, fudge, honeycomb - you name it, I WILL NOT accept even one.

It reminds me how manipulative adults can become. We all can demand something in a payback type of way. I am so relieved to know that God does not treat me like this. God is Someone who will give good gifts expecting nothing in return. God just keeps on giving - a new sunrise, a rose, an ocean beach to explore. God has good gifts all around me. I just need to receive them. They are always freely given with no hidden personal agenda.

How blessed am I to have this wonderful knowledge to help me overcome the bad flashback memory of my dad.

(c). 2004. Julie-Anne Wingate.
Women Of Worth: http://womenofworth.blogspot.com/.

Do you have a story to share of how you bravely face flashbacks? If you do, please contact me at: j_anwin@yahoo.com. or leave a comment below. I'm looking forwrd to hearing from you.

A PRAYER OF GRATITUDE FOR SLEEP

2004-10-29T11:42:00.000+10:00

You have filled my heart with greater joy than when their new wine and new grain abound. I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, 0 Lord, make me dwell in safety. Psalm 4:7,8

The night sky is so glorious tonight, Lord. Stars shimmer with muted halo shapes, new raindrops fresh on every leaf, and the air is still, frozen and pure. Time is not important here, in this space where I sense you so near to me.

It has not always been like this for me — you know that, God. You know the fears I've had of the dark — deep terror pulsing through my veins just as sunset began to fall.

Tea would simmer on the stove when the fear in me would start to rise, encircling me, wafting like steam, and choking every thought.

For night time was so dreaded — filled with awful apprehension as I lay in bed each night. The little girl, so terrified, mind racing as small body shivered uncontrollably.

“Would he come to me tonight?” I'd think. “Startle me awake, jolt me rudely, abruptly with fierced hand and muffled voice with threats for silence?” Then that yawning time of agony, when all the clocks stood still, until he'd finished what he came to do. I never understood the pain, the shame, the burning skin and bruised thighs. Why did he come? Why me? Why then? Why always in the dark???

But there it was, you see — the parallel was clear. The night, the dark, the fear and then the groping hands, that wretched curling tongue, the helplessness I felt, and silence all the while.

Oh, yes, I grew, and time went by. Left home - became a wife and mum. But fear remained, that terror of the night, and nightmares now replaced reality. I dreamt each night of all those things which happened as a child, and would wake all bathed in sweat, just like old times, shaking and afraid.

And sleep?? Just what was that? I heard the family breathing deep with calm assurance, and knew their heads were nestled peacefully upon their beds. But this never occurred for me. For me bed was a trap all of itself — where all the tapes from years ago would replay o'er and o'er within my mind.

But now, you know, it’s gone! The fear has gone!!! No apprehension now! I too can lie beneath the sheets in peace and rest secure, enjoying warmth and comfort from plumped pillows and drawn drapes.

A miracle for me!!! It’s taken fifty years for God to heal this hurt. I never understood how others slept at all, and felt secure and freshened by the dawn. But now I sense it too, with awesome gratitude to God who did this thing for me.

I may not sleep all night — I'm still not good at that, and even doctors potions have not solved this dilemma yet. But now I'm sure one day I will — I'll sleep like others do, without the pile of tablets by the bed. I do not mind not sleeping though, for now, for as I lie in bed my Lord I think of you, and all your blessings pure. I think of your calm voice, your gentle outstretched hand, cup-shaped, holding me secure and loved — my name inscribed within your palm. And I feel warm, not shivering with fear, and music drifts around my ears, turned down low so not to wake the others. But I love this — a restful, placid state of rest.

The monsters have all gone, the demons drowned by your great love for me. And no, I'm not alone with dread, but resting ‘neath your arms, in company with my great God, my friend and joy.

So thank you Lord, for what you've done — it’s taken half my life — but then I have my old age yet in which to dwell secure. So as I close the shutters Lord, as night time signs appear, I think of you, my Lord, and all you've done for me. I'll always be grateful Father, for a friend as close as you, who holds me safely and securely all night long. For I've had a miracle no less; a healing so complete, and I shall never grasp and take for granted, not one hour of rested night time hours. My contentment over-flows, along with joy and peace and love, for my heavenly father has secured for me what earthly Dad removed.

© 2003 Julie-Anne Wingate

Women Of Worth: womenofworth.blogspot.com.

Please contact me with your own stories of how you are facing the pain and courageously moving forward to wholeness after abuse. I would really love to hear from you.
My email is: j_anwin@yahoo.com.