It’s been a very telling weekend for me.  I have found some strengths and then there has been the weakness.  I don’t like the weakness, it makes me angry with myself.  I am stronger than this.  I am not the same woman I was a year ago.  But, I deal with the same feelings I did a year ago.  The feelings of never being enough.  The feeling of thinking that it will never be me someone chooses.  This is the place the anger comes in.  I AM enough.  Whether someone chooses me or not.  How dare I listen to the lies.  But I do and I find myself starting to cry.  Because no matter how much I play it in my head there is this one thing that reminds me I am not the sweet, innocent and clean woman that dreams are made of.   I carry inside me something that reminds me of this daily.  I am broken and scarred from mistakes of the past.  And then anger comes again and the crying stops and I resolve to build higher walls.

This is my strength….building walls.


Life is so twisted up.  The words of my mind go round and round, playing hide and seek.  I see them.  I feel them.  And then they go and hide and for a minute I’m sure of who I am.  Then they come back and I get all twisted up again and want to get them out of my head and onto paper.  But they are so twisted up, I don’t know how to say it and then they hide again.  I keep the post page of the blog up just in case they come back out to play.

How does the jumble of words that form thoughts make any sense anyway, except to me.  Love me, don’t love me.  Accept me, tell me I should be better.  Be gentle with me, be angry with me.  Feel joy having someone next to me, but silently cry when he goes to the bathroom because I don’t believe joy is mine to feel.  Believe in myself, but be unsure of myself.  Dream of writing a book, but don’t pick up a pen.

Twisted.  Which end is up anyway.


The reality is….this is my reality and it  sucks.

Holding Pattern

This is the state I’m in now…the holding patten. Starting at the end of last year and over the last few weeks I have felt God leading me to a God chosen plan. I don’t have all the facts, people or places but I know there is something underway. I have some thoughts as to what it may be and I am praying and researching to make sure I am on the right path.

The thing is….nothing is happening. I’m just holding. Holding/waiting may be the same thing, but for me this “holding pattern” is feeling a lot different than waiting. I KNOW there is something around the bend, yet I’m having to hold off. I make steps toward what I think God wants me to do, but everytime something comes up and it’s like as if God is stretching out His hand on saying “Hold on a minute….not yet”

While sitting here reflecting on this it came to mind of being on a plane. Ever been on a plane and you are waiting to land and the pilot lets you know you are in a holding pattern? Something ahead has the pilot circling the airport. I looked “holding pattern” up on Google and I was suprised to learn that the plane actually moves in a circular motion. (A usually circular pattern flown by aircraft awaiting clearance to land at an airport in a circular motion) This has a lot of simularity of what I am feeling. The last few days I have been circling some things I thought I had already dealt with and I have had to say deep prayers to keep myself from falling into some old traps. Doubts have crowded my mind of the usefulness I can bring. Doubts of if I heard things right.

When you are on that above metioned plan, you are assured of your destination. They checked your boarding pass before you got on. You have trust in the pilot not to forge ahead if the way isn’t safe to do so. So you sit in the holding patten not doubting you are going the wrong way. This has been a strong liking to my situation and it has made me re-check my faith.

God is my pilot. He knows the destination. He knows the dangers, the would be crashes up ahead. His holding pattern is designed to keep me safe, to keep His plan safe. The circling motion of old traps keeps me praying, keeps me aware of the pitfalls if I land to early I take in the full knowledge of this, so I sit back put my earphones back on and trust I’ll be there soon enough.

Journey on, friends!


Beauty around the corner

If Jesus gives us a task or assigns us to a difficult season, every ounce of our experience is meant for our instruction and completion if only we’ll let Him finish the work. I fear, however, that we are so attention-deficit that we settle for bearable when beauty is just around the corner.”
— Beth Moore

It was just a few minutes ago I thought to myself that I just needed to learn to just grin and bear it. This life season that I’m in. I was about to pray for something good to happen, but stopped myself with -“take what God gives you, Sonya”-.  It was like something deep inside spoke and said “you don’t have to  settle for just getting through, it’s okay to ask God for something good, a blessing, but if it doesn’t come just keep faithful, keep believing in good things.”

This is hard for me, believing in good things happening.  I know I serve a God of goodness, but it seems to stop somewhere around MY heart and the things I desire.  I can’t seem to get to the place where I believe it for me.   It’s not that I haven’t seen goodness in my life, but I have also seen much heartache and much pain and in my human fraility it far out weighs the good.  I have desires.  Desires that a friend said came from God, but when year after year they don’t come to pass I start to wonder if this desire is wrong and that’s when the attitute of just grin and bear it, take what God gives you, don’t ask for them anymore, comes from. 

I read the above quote while doing a random search on Beth Moore just 20 minutes or so after the above mentioned thoughts and I know it’s God’s way of confirming what I had already had the Holy Spirit speak to me.

I pray for me to learn to change the attitude, to erase the stronghold of disbelief in thinking that asking for blessings is a wrong and unchristian way of living.  The blessing I was about to pray for before I stopped with the “take what God gives you” thought?  That on my birthday that is only a month away, something great would happen, some kind of pure joy blessing, something that would rock my world would happen.  If as I type this post, my mind is saying how selfish, how sad, it’s only a birthday.  So I will pray, for God to teach me to expect goodness, to see life as something to not just bear, but to wait in expection for beauty that is just around the corner.

“You open Your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing.” Psalm 145:16

Last night talking with a friend about the last post I posted and why God would let me be born knowing some of the things I would have to go through with abuse, she said ” because you will be able to help someone that has been through the same thing”.

No offense to her, she was just trying to help, but I don’t want to hear that right now!!  I don’t want some pat Christian answer! I WAS A CHILD, DAMN IT!!  If I am approaching this as a child as God whispered to me, then a child would not understand that “someday”  this will help someone else. 

I just want a father that will comfort me, tell me it’s going to be ok and tell me He loves me!!

Rebirth – The Womb

Seems fitting to write my first journal post on my journey of Rebirth on this week after  Easter.  Our King conquered death and was brought back to life.  That is my hope, my prayer for this journey through the past, to die to the old self and be brought back to new life.  New life, the life Jesus intended when he gave His life on the cross.

For You formed my inward parts; You wove me in my mother’s womb. Psalm 139:13

Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; And in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them.  Psalm 139: 16

At the time I decided to start this journal, I thought I would start with the day I was born.  But, thinking about it and remembering the scriptures above that I have read over and over, I knew I needed to start from the beginning.  The very beginning, when the seed was planted. 

Most people believe that life begins at conception, so I guess life begin for me at the same time.  I don’t know the details of my conception.  I never even knew who my father was.  So I wonder was I conceived out of love and the relationship just didn’t work out?  Or was it just out of the “free love” of the sixties?  From my mom’s history with men (I’m not downing her, just stating facts) I have to assume it wasn’t love.  So, I guess I didn’t even begin with love. 

From the scriptures above it says that God knew me before I was even born, before I was even “seeded”.  They say I was knit together by Him in my mother’s womb.  This is really too big for me to wrap my tiny little brain around.  People have told me that He even thought of me when he was dying on the cross, knowing His death would be for me years and years later.  Again, too big for me to comprehend.

The part that really gets me is where it says that He knew the days that were ordained for me before there was even one.  I wonder why then He let me be born?  I know this sounds contradictory to what I should as a Christian be thinking, but this is my journey to rebirth and I have to let the thoughts that keep me hindered from living like I should out of the dark and into the light.

I know all suffer with different things in life and some of the things I have endured I understand is the just part of life.  My heartbreak over the love I had for someone is just life.  I picked the wrong person, my fault, part of life…..  But what about the abuse as a child, what about the exploitation of a child that didn’t have a mother that paid attention?  Really, God?  This is what you had ordained for me?  If you loved me, why?  These are questions I have asked myself all my life.  And these are questions that have led me to believe that I must not be worthy of much if this is what God knew would happened and let me be born anyway.  Even Job asked the question…”Why did I not die at birth, Come forth from the womb and expire?” (Job 3:11)

I can’t ever remember wishing I wasn’t ever born, but I can remember days of wishing I was dead. 

I’m praying over these questions.  Trying to find grace over a pregnancy that will soon bring forth a girl child that will face the unspeakable.

As a Child

I’m 45 years old.
I’ve been married. I’ve been divorced

I’ve given birth twice.

I hold a full-time job, managing (mothering) 29 people.

All this pointing to being a woman. Or, as Websters says in the definitions….an adult female.

Yet….While praying this morning, praying through the same feelings of unworthiness and low self-esteem, I told God that I didn’t feel like a woman, that I never have. Not in the true sense of the word. Yes I’m grown-up and do all the grownup things, but the feeling of being a woman down deep inside my heart escaped me. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say, I mumbled. It was like as if I was a child, I told Him.

“Then come to me as a child“…. God whispered.

It’s like a dam burst and I felt this sense of He understood. Understood what I was trying to convey. Simple. That’s what God does, he makes what seems so complicated to us and breaks it down to simple….”Then come to me as a child”.

So a seed was sown in my heart standing there, tears streaming as fast as the water coming from the shower spout.

I have to go back to the beginning. I have to go back to the very start of life for me. I have to go back and relive childhood. To do that I have to go back an re-visit the pain of it all. The emotional abuse, the physical abuse, the sexual abuse. The neglect. The abandonment. The lack of a father figure. All of it. Every stinking detail that has lived in me for all of my 45 years.

I’ve taken on the sins of the mother (most of the abuse and neglect was from my mother) believing they were mine to carry. Every mistake I have made brings me back to those memories and anchors my belief in my unworthiness. Every good thing that has happened to me has been tainted by the fear of losing it or the shame of thinking I don’t deserve it. My feelings of unworthiness, of never feeling good enough, never fully believing anything good was meant for me, has ruled my life for far too long.

So I’m going back, going back to the very beginning. I am going to journal online every detail I can remember that has led me to this time, to this place. For those memories that I have repressed, I am praying God will reveal them. The only way to healing is to get out of the dark.

 It will be painful, I have no doubt. But if I ever want to be the woman God created me to be, then I must face the unknown, the pain. Jounaling about it will be my spoken pray for favor, for redemption….for healing. It will also bring into the light all the sins, those inflicted on me and those I brought on myself, and allow rebirth to take place.  Rebirth.

My hope is God will journey alongside me, I trust that He will. I pray for that little child to find her father, the only one that matters. I pray that she will get to sit in His lap and He will cradle her, stroke her hair and tell her she is special, His pride and joy and… Oh, so worthy of love.

People brought babies to Jesus, hoping he might touch them. When the disciples saw it, they shooed them off. Jesus called them back. “Let these children alone. Don’t get between them and me. These children are the kingdom’s pride and joy. Mark this: Unless you accept God’s kingdom in the simplicity of a child, you’ll never get in.” Luke 18:15-17 (The Message)

See you in 1965.

For now it’s buried

It’s inside me

Waiting to come out

Waiting.  To break me again

Will there be strength when it shows it’s face

Will there be mercy

God is my strength

God is my mercy

Playing in the rain

I remember as a child begging my mom to let us kids go play in the rain.  I can’t remember what was so appealing to getting wet, but I know that is was something I wanted to do.  Every once in a while she would relent and let us go out and play while the rain was pouring down.

Now as I’m older, playing in the rain doesn’t hold the same appeal.  Instead I dash to and from wherever I’m going as to not get too wet.  Or I carry an umbrella to shield me from the worst of it. 

Today I reflected on the storms of life that bring with it pouring rain and how I am apt to not just dash to and from, but to bunker down in the storm shelter, fearing to even face a drop. 

I hide in my storm shelter while friends beat on the door and beg me to come play in the rain with them.  But I yell no….it’s raining out there.  I might get wet.  I might get struck by lightning.  The thunder is too loud.

Or….You might hurt me.  My heart may get broken again.  I may not be enough or too much for you.  You might break my trust.  So I stay in my storm shelter.  Where it’s dry, safe and quiet.

Today I had to come out of the storm shelter to do something God had been leading me to do.  On the drive over, as large drops of real rain hit my windshield, I grumbled….”God, I don’t want to do this”.  It’s safer to hide.  This was a hurtful storm in my life over three years ago and coming out of hiding was proving scary.  Why re-live the past? 

But in a coffee shop, I offered an apology for hurt I had caused someone, no longer feeling justified in my behavior because of them hurting me  and grace and forgiveness was handed back.  Laughter and memories poured out and the storm was forgotten.  Blown over, in the past.  Sunshine, in the form of freedom was shining brightly.

About an hour later after leaving the coffee shop, the rain had stopped and the sun came shining in the big Texas sky so bright I had to put on my sunglasses.  It’s like God was saying….”See child, sometimes there is rain, but the sun will always come back out, you just have to trust me.  Remember I am with you.  Go play in the rain”.

I feel lighter today.  The other storm in my life swirling around me seems so less frightening.  Fully intending to go bunker back down after my mission was accomplished,  instead I’m feeling like I want to play in the rain. The storm shelter was looking dreary, boring and lonely.

 For today at least, I will be playing under the raindrops of trust and getting drenched in grace.

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