Be with me, please.

Can I trust you with my pain?
To treat it with kindness and respect?
To listen to it, so I can speak the unspoken?
Will you help me catch my tears as the floodgates open?
Swim with me into the unknown?
Save me from drowning in my own sorrow?
If I entrust you with my grief, will you help me take care of it?
Console it?
Soothe it?
Make it feel safe?
Will you accept it as a gift to be protected?
I feel my need and I fear it,
as I fear all that I do not understand.
Yet I’m asking you to be with me, for I’m tired of walking alone.

My footsteps are ordered by the Lord. Not everyone will understand my path, but I must walk it anyway. 

When the Lord calls you to walk a rocky, winding, uphill path there is no good reason to delay.  A friend recently taught me that delayed obedience is just another form of disobedience and it will come with a price I don’t really want to pay.  

Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain. 1 Corinthians 15:58 

I’ve often stood on this verse because I feel like the enemy stole so much from me, and I don’t want another day wasted. The Lord is helping me understand that labor doesn’t always look like putting one foot in front of the other to accomplish tasks, chores, and a paycheck, or even ministry.  Healing is hard work. There are seasons when we are going to have to rest and allow Him to tear down the walls we have labored so hard to build. Those walls were not built in vain, they served a purpose and kept us alive. But we must learn to behold and see when it’s time to tear them down. 

Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. Isaiah 43:19 

We must understand that trusting enough to do this sacred work with Him can be the hardest labor we’ve ever done. It can be messy, raw, painful, and wonderful all at the same time. But if God is calling us to it, it will never be in vain. Perhaps we lay down the pen for the hammer. We stop trying to script how we think it should work. We take a step back and allow God in His mercy and grace to chip away at the old so that new life can be birthed in us.  

Perhaps our job in this season is to finally rest in Him, to cry the tears, to feel the anger, to bargain until we can surrender, to experience the depression, and then to walk in freedom in the new spacious place He will bring us into.  

It’s the journey that equips us to help others find freedom.  We pick up the shattered pieces and place them as stones on a new path so that others can follow us into an encounter with Yeshua. That, my friends, is the real work. 

I love confirmation!  Especially when I’ve been trying to pray something through and feeling unsettled about things.  Sometimes, it’s more uncomfortable to step down from a position we are not called to do than it is to press in and do it then deal with the consequences.  I don’t want to disappoint anyone, or make someone else have to do more, or add another thing to a friend’s already too long to-do list.  It’s so important to have discernment when you have the gift of helps because the enemy hates us, he has one mission, to kill, steal, and destroy.  I have some gifts that allow me to do some things really well.  And then there are other things that I am just not called to do and no matter how much I want to force it to work, or “grow in that area”, sometimes, it’s just not my lane and I have to make the hard decisions.  So, I did that yesterday.  And then I had to lay it down about fifty times because I kept feeling guilty that I didn’t feel guilty because I knew that it was for my own good as well as everyone else’s.  Goodness, I’m so glad God knows what we need!  Time is short.  We need to stay focused on what God has told us to do and let the last instruction He gave us be the next thing we do.  For me, I have to remind myself that I need to give it 100% and not the 50% that is left after doing things that “needed to be done” that God never told me to do.  I have to stay focused on the things that matter for eternity.  I’m not saying don’t help anyone out, of course there are times that we need to help others, but we have to find a balance and not lose sight of what God is asking us to do individually for this day, this week, and this season.  We can’t be so busy helping with everything and everyone else that we are not taking the time to do what God has told us to do.  I needed to hear that confirmation tonight.  That it is okay to focus on Kingdom things and let the things go that God has not called us to do.  Even though they are good things, they are hindrances to me because they are not in my lane and they stress me out.  That steals my zeal and I end up frustrated and not getting other stuff done that God has given me the vision for and clearly told me to do.  I suppose that sometimes stepping down for the right reasons is stepping up.  The Lord has really been showing me lately that there are things that He has given me a vision for that He has not given to the people around me.  So, while they are there to offer support and pray for me, they are not going to see the importance of it in the same way I do because God put it in my spirit and told me to do it.  I am the one that must make it a priority.  I am the one that must write the vision down plainly so that we can run with it.  I am the one that will have to stand before God one day and I want to hear “well done”.  He is really helping me see that this is all just part of being a forerunner.  It is not a bad thing.  It is difficult yet fun, and exciting yet scary.  But most importantly, it’s of God and I think it is part of what is written in my book in Heaven.  Things often don’t look like we expect, but we must walk in obedience until He gives the next new instruction.  He promises to guide our path and make our way straight, we just have to give Him permission and then follow His lead.  I’m so thankful that He is a merciful God and meets me where I am and gently prods me forward.  I’m also thankful for the unspeakable joy that comes when we do the hard things and walk the paths that we would not have chosen.  Those are the paths with the miracles, beautiful surprises and blessings along the way.  I still can’t believe I get to live this life!  It’s more than I could have ever imagined even now, and this is just the beginning.  I love Him so much, He has changed me, and I will serve Him forever!  

I remember hearing nursery rhymes and poor Mr. Humpty Dumpty… I’m a visual person and even as a small child, way before I understood trauma, I would hear of him falling off the wall and how nobody could fix him. My little five year old heart ached for him. I could see each piece of shell piled into a heap and desperately wanted someone to help him. But I knew help was not coming, he would always be broken.

I understand today that I was projecting my own shattered life onto him. When seeing him there on the ground broken and helpless, I was seeing an illustration of my own fragmented heart and mind. I had already split multiple times, and I didn’t understand what was wrong with me, but I thought Humpty might.

Humpty has since been swept up and discarded. I haven’t thought about him in many years and I no longer relate to his shattered shell.

I met Jesus Christ who picked up my broken pieces and put me back together again. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again. BUT JESUS, the King of kings and Lord of lords specializes in mending the broken and putting them back together again.

Psalm 147:3 He heals the brokenhearted, binding up their injuries.

Sometimes, life feels shattered and we don’t know what to do. The good news is that Jesus knows because He came as a man and suffered more than we ever will. He understands our pain! He wants to mend and restore all that is broken. He waits with open arms for us to surrender and give Him permission to work in our lives. He is a gentleman and will never force you. But if you are tired and hurting, needing healing, seeking comfort and real love, Jesus is who you need. He loves you extravagantly!

Trying to hold my system together and not be a burden. Focusing on Yah, getting my parts to Yeshua, and using scripture memorization to distract.  We are finally stabilizing and able to think more clearly. Gaining some productive co-consciousness with C., but the other parts are still not talking to me.  It drives me crazy with how needy they are. I’ve been trying to tell them that we are testing a theory to see if it is really possible for them to get their needs met by using their words instead of ignoring the needs until wind up in crisis. I really don’t know… There is something about speaking up, asking for help, or even having an opinion that feels like being thrown into the lion’s den. When C. said in a session that the toddler part didn’t speak because they threatened to cut out her tongue it strangely resonates deeply through every fiber of my being.  I have no memory of it, but it makes so many things make sense.  It “feels” like the truth, and it is not hard to imagine my mother saying that.  Not much difference between “keep your mouth shut or I’ll cut your tongue out” and “I hate you! I wish you would die and go to hell!” or “shut your mouth or I will kill you” or “I wish you were never born”.  Is it really any different in the bigger scheme of things? I just don’t know why I would remember her saying all the other things every day, but I don’t remember her saying she would cut our tongue out. Someone just came very close to the front. They are intense, they might be the one that holds all the anger away from me. I need to take a break now.

I can’t put a value on the cost of the few who help us. 

I can’t explain the gratitude I feel or the hope it has created in the darkest places.

I fear not being obedient enough.

I recognize that I have a disorganized attachment style and love feels too dangerous.

It sucks to know your own mess and still struggle to fix it. 

I want nothing more than to walk in my destiny and advance the Kingdom.

It  still hurts.

All of it hurts.

all of us hurt.

I’ll never admit how much it hurts because I think it’s too much for even you.

My little parts don’t have a concept of time. If you say you love them, it’s as if you always have, yet they fear you won’t tomorrow. 

We still struggle with self-harm often but nobody knows it.

We know Yahweh sent us here, but we don’t know how to separate fear from trust. We feel them both all the time.

Feeling like a burden makes us always say we are fine. It also makes us feel worthless.

We obsessively fear that there is even the slightest chance that it could have been true that “we split over 2000 times due to shame”.

We still think parts are lying about some things…like astral projecting and portals. I’m not convinced that those things are real.

Not being able to tell who is up front makes us feel like we are faking DID. 

When you hug us and we are not in crisis, we won’t admit that it changes something inside.

We won’t tell you about the power it has to break down walls or build doorways and windows.

We won’t tell you that nobody ever did…ever…there was never once safe touch even as an infant.

Who would have thought that a song meant for worship would trigger a memory?  We have very few safe spaces, and I hate it when trauma invades them.  I’ve never liked the Down by the River song…ever. It has always creeped me out, but I didn’t know why.  It just felt like a creepy old man kind of song. It made me feel as if I was dirty and needed to be scrubbed with bleach.  I suppose it still does. But then I got the memory.  It really sucked.  C. was suddenly gone and never came back to participate or even listen to the service. My protector was nowhere to be found because even she doesn’t want to be out around J.  I don’t understand how that works.  If her only job is to protect us, why does she even have the choice of hiding in her room on the island and leaving us to fend for ourselves? I logically know that parts have talked about being abused at a campground around a campfire. But in this memory, it was at a different location. It was behind Marty’s apartment, 2 buildings down from ours, in his backyard, at the edge of the woods. And it wasn’t head knowledge, it was more.  I felt as if I was there. It felt like maybe it was happening to me…or at least to my body.  It wasn’t someone else’s story this time. It wasn’t void of physical sensations and gut-wrenching fear. I don’t think I’ve ever felt the sensations it created in my body.  Then someone got so loud in my head, demanding help, over and over and over again.  I couldn’t focus on the message at all, the longer the service went on, the louder they got.  I was so afraid I was going to switch, and it would not be C. that came out. But Yahweh is faithful, and we made it through the service.

I don’t pretend to understand the emotional hurricane storming through my veins. The gusts of wind that take my breath away or the shards of glass that slice away pieces of my existence with every new truth. My truth. The truth that sits on my chest like the purple elephant in the room. The truth that becomes more and more valid as it’s given a voice. The truth that dispels the darkness and the truth that invites it in because really, it’s all one in the same.  Our past is dark, but it’s ours to sort through, to do with as we choose. They say processing trauma is like peeling an onion. Am I the only one that thinks that saying came from the fact that onions make you cry? Layers upon layers of cruelty, abandonment, and rejection to be peeled away until we finally find the truth of who we could have been…who Yahweh created us to be. I don’t like the word Sonship. I never have because I don’t want to be a son, I don’t want to be connected to the male species in any way. I’ll take the tiara, be the princess, the daughter of a King, but keep your sonship and things related to men far away from me. I’ll stick with striving for daughtership. I know that’s not a word to most, but it’s my word, the only word I can work with during this phase of healing. It doesn’t ooze with slime and shame. It doesn’t scream that I am dirty. It doesn’t make the little man in the crane inside my head make adjustments to my thinking.