Up In Smoke

This house is burning

I’m caught in the flames

The fire is rising

While I plan my escape

Searching for an open door

Trying to find my way out

I just can’t take anymore

But my lungs won’t let me shout..

I can’t breathe

Can’t breathe

Please let me go

I can’t breathe 

Can’t breathe

I’m going up in smoke. 
 

Can anyone hear my cries

Can’t they see what’s happening

From the flames the smoke will rise

As I’m in need of rescuing

I feel so lost in the flames

The smoke surrounds me like a wall

Darkness keeps closing in

As I begin to call..

I can’t breathe

Can’t breathe

Please let me go

I can’t breathe

Can’t breathe

I’m going up in smoke..

 

The fog is moving in

And I can’t breathe

It slowly thickens

As I lay suffocating..

I can’t breathe

Can’t breathe

Please let me go

I can’t breathe

Can’t breathe

I’m going up in smoke.

©GP 2016

Labels

The Lord is my strength and my song; he has given me victory.  Psalms 118:14

I spent quite a bit of time debating this post. I thought about what to share and how to share it. I want to address something that we all struggle with: Labels. There are labels that are given to us and labels we give ourselves. Some of us have gone thru painful episodes in our lives; some of us have had unspeakable things done to us. It’s the label that we take from those experiences that determines how we come out of those experiences. Today, I want to share my labels with you.

Label: VICTIM – I feel like only a victim will truly know just how infuriating that word can be. I hear the word victim, and it brings about feelings of shame. Being a Victim means that something beyond your control happens to you. And yet, the very word brings me feelings of guilt. I am a victim of child rape and molestation. I am a victim of sexual assault. I am a victim of sex trafficking. I am a victim of domestic violence. How overwhelming and defeating it is to think about all the ways I have been victimized. I feel like being a victim means to put me on a shelf somewhere to keep me from getting hurt again. People keep their distance because they don’t quite know how to handle a victim. Labeling me a victim means putting a big red letter on my chest to remind everyone that I have had horrible things done to me.

Label: SURVIVOR – When you come out of a traumatic situation, you’ll be counseled as no longer a victim but a survivor. I’m sorry, but this just feels no better to me. You survive a horrible car crash. You survive a shark bite. Survive means you were taken down, but not taken out. Survive means you are not the same; a piece of you is missing. A Survivor has scars. Thinking of myself as a survivor means that whatever happened got the best of me.

Label: OVERCOMER – Despite your best shot I’m still here, fully. You did not take the best of me. You made me stronger. This is the label we should wear.  Being an overcomer means you have the spirit-filled heart of a warrior. Being an overcomer means you did not allow the schemes of the enemy to take you off the path God has given you. Actually, you use the trauma to fuel you.  An overcomer fights back and fights for those who have yet to learn what it means to overcome.

I urge you to not let what happened to you control you.  Don’t let the bad win by giving up on life. Use it. God chose you to walk the path you are on for a specific reason. Don’t waste it. He created you for a purpose. Be an Overcomer.

Vindicated

for you are my safe refuge, a fortress where my enemies cannot reach me. Let me live forever in your sanctuary, safe beneath the shelter of your wings!

Psalms 61:3‭-‬4 NLT

Four days ago I was blindsided. Outside forces were coming against me and accusations were made. The enemy was using someone to intentionally attack me to break apart the little I have been fighting to hold together.  But I didn’t fight back.

The past few weeks I have been working on remaining in control of my reactions and emotions, despite how out of control my world around me may get. This trial was a tough one. It threatened the one thing that means everything to me. I cannot even describe what it feels like to have a person that you should trust plot and plan to strip your heart away. Or, what it feels like to have the people that once protected you suddenly shift and treat you like the guilty party.  My flesh has been an anxiety-ridden mess. But my spirit remained in conversation with my Heavenly Father. I have spent the past 4 days in my Bible, allowing God to speak with me.  The verse above was given to me yesterday. Instead of reacting, I trusted in God’s sovereign hand. I reminded Him, (not that He needs it), of His promises to be my protector, to be my rock. I did not let this destroy me. I did not let it break me.

Today I was vindicated. The events that transpired hit a crossroad today. And God turned it His way. I was vindicated. And at the end of it, those who were brought in to persecute me actually said that I was doing everything right given the circumstances. Sometimes God can use a difficult situation to bring us comfort. Because hearing that, made it all worth it. Single-parenting can make you question everything, every decision, every action. But today God told me that I am doing some things right. What the enemy means for bad…

I am so grateful for the hell I went thru the past 4 days. Because it allowed for me to see God at work. I was able to see that God still sees, He still hears..and most importantly, He still cares.

Home

Sometimes you never know what will trigger you.

I ended up in our old neighborhood this evening. Before I even reached it, the memory floodgates fell open. See, when this happens, it’s not your mind playing games, it’s your heart. Your heart starts to take those little moments and it will weave them together so tight that the bad moments can barely be seen. And for just a moment, I wished that everything from the past year and a half was just a dream. And I could just go home.

It was our home, our first Texas home. Two years may seem like a miniscule amount of time to most. But with the life I’ve lived, two years is the longest time my kids and I have called a house a home. I remember the weeks I spent walking circles around the cove wishing my second youngest would just leave the residence he had taken up in my belly. I remember bringing both my baby boys home from the hospital. Pulling up for the first time and meeting our neighbors before we even had a chance to walk in. Barbecuing on the back patio while the kids had water fights. Watching my kids walk out for the first day of school.

It was our home. We had it all. Yet we had nothing. It was just an illusion. The mask of a life you learn to wear. And yet I miss it. Part of me just wants to go back instead of living in the reality that is my today. Because you forget. The pattern weaves itself a little tighter every time, and the bad holes just keep getting smaller.

I realize I’m angry. Angry that we lost it all.  Angry that we have to still suffer the repercussions, like we haven’t suffered enough. I just hope and pray that when God said in His Word that He would return 10-fold everything the enemy took away, He’s talking about me. That maybe somewhere out there is a perfect house on the perfect cove with a life far greater than anything I could ever imagine.

Stuck

Getting out…getting away from a controlling/abusive relationship can be like standing in a puddle of tar. No matter how hard you try to pull away, you just can’t get free. When I got…no…when I was taken out, I was relieved. I was happy to finally be away. I swore I would never go back. And I haven’t…not completely. But circumstances, lack of support, lack of family…has prevented me from standing completely on my own. I have spent a year and a half doing everything in my power to stand on my own. I have exhausted all possible resources. I have contacted and begged for counseling for me and my kids. Every where I turn there is a wall. I feel so oppressed. I feel so alone, helpless, lost, frustrated, angry…people don’t understand when people snap, or why women stay with their abuser. It’s because there is no help out there. There is really no concrete consistent avenue to help women with children get on their feet or keep them from going homeless. At least not where I live. So what do I do? How do I turn this around? It’s my relationship with God that keeps me going. It’s the little bit of faith that maybe God will come thru. And He has…He has kept us afloat. But when does it end? Every month I have to worry where is the rent going to come from?  I work as much as I can, but it’s not enough. My relationship with my kids is strained. I watch as people who I thought to be my friends, who claim to love and care for me, plan parties and get togethers, but don’t invite me. I have received criticism for saying I feel alone and alienated. And I just want to understand why. I just want to know what I can do. I want to change whatever it is that is keeping me from living a more fulfilled life. I want to get away from this dependency I have. I just want to feel like I’m on solid ground in an environment with people that think I have some kind of value as a friend. I just don’t want to be stuck anymore.