You'll Get Through It

From time to time, I find myself thinking about the goodness of the Lord and all He’s done in my heart and mind over the past few years. I often reflect on the times when I was nothing more than a hopeless woman wandering aimlessly through life, broken, battered, and bruised.

I never thought I’d break free from the cage of despair, but I am grateful for the powerful name of Jesus that destroys every chain in our lives. Whenever I recall the miraculous work the Lord has done - and continues to do - in me, I can’t help but lift my hands and utter Thank You Jesus from a heart overwhelmed with gratitude.

I know very well what it’s like to feel broken beyond repair.

Life made me believe that I was cursed with a curse. It seemed like I couldn’t win for losing, and every time I thought things couldn’t get worse, I was proven wrong. Whenever I’d slightly convince myself that I could make it through to better days, something would happen to crush my hope. Every small glimpse of sunshine I’d find was quickly clouded by gloom. It was exhausting, and I often felt like I was losing my mind.

There were times when I couldn’t leave my house because the tears wouldn’t stop flowing; days when strength to get out of bed was non-existent; moments when I thought I’d have a mental breakdown; and periods of not knowing whether I was coming or going.

Back then, I couldn’t see God’s hand upon me; neither could I understand how all of the pain and anguish in my life would work together for my good, as Romans 8:28 encourages. It was challenging for me to believe Jeremiah 29:11, that God had good plans for me. All I could see was what appeared to be a jacked up life that had no purpose. I sometimes even battled with thoughts of suicide, and honestly believed that I would die in my brokenness.

Oh, but God!

Right in the middle of my despair, in the midst of all my brokenness, His love and His word found me. He spoke to me so profoundly in Psalm 118:17. It says, “I will not die but live, and will proclaim what the LORD has done.” I embedded that scripture in my heart, and I meditated on it day and night, until I became convinced of its truth.

When the enemy told me to self-destruct, I told him I will not die, but live.

When my problems overwhelmed me, I told myself I will not die, but live.

When depression backed me into a dark corner, I proclaimed I will not die, but live.

I had to learn to speak life into my spirit, no matter what my emotions said, and by the grace of God, His Word became manifest in me.

I didn’t perish in my pain, and, since God has no respect of persons, neither will you.

Though it often seems differently, God did not design your afflictions to destroy you. He allows you to experience tough times so that you may learn of Him, and become shaped and molded into what He destined you to be. He desires to give you life even in the midst of the valley of the shadow of death. It is the enemy who convinces you to believe that you will drown in your sorrow, but he is a liar.

Know this – It is during your storms that you are on the Potter’s wheel. Just as the potter cups his hand around the clay on his wheel and carefully shapes it until it becomes a beautiful masterpiece, so does our Father hold you in His hands, meticulously molding you until you become like the image of Christ. The clay may become a bit marred and broken in the process, but as long as it remains in the potter’s hands, he will perfectly put it back together.

The pain is not to kill you. The fire is not to burn you. The raging sea is not to drown you. It is not unto death. Jesus says, “I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly” (John 10:10). It is the thief, the enemy, that comes to steal, kill, and destroy, but he cannot take what belongs to the Lord. And because you have been bought with a price, you are God’s property. Though the enemy desires to sift you as wheat, he does not possess the power to prosper in his attacks against you.

Despite how bad it hurts, how dark the day, how heavy the burden, the Lord has plans to give you a future and a hope (Jeremiah 29:11). If you just hang in there, you will witness the Lord’s promise to perfect every single thing that concerns you (Psalm 138:8). You’ll soon look back and see how the Lord’s mercy endured in your life, and proclaim His goodness forever.

Your right now pales in comparison to your future. 2 Corinthians 4:17 says it best, “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” Your troubles will not be the death of you, but, on the contrary, will aid in the development of who God designed you to be long before the foundation of the world.

You shall not die, but live. How so, you ask? The answer is found in Zechariah 4:6, “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the Lord of hosts.”

Be encouraged.

From my heart to yours...

Watch Your Mouth!

There are certain words and phrases I don't allow our three sons to say, especially if they have a negative meaning. I'm a firm believer in the fact that words have power and what you speak can shape what you see.

Proverbs 18:21 says that "Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof." Again, words are powerful. They create, build, tear down, heal, destroy or soothe. Not only do the words that proceed from your mouth affect those around you, but they affect you. What you say to yourself about yourself or concerning situations in your life, has a huge impact on your perception. Words create visuals. What you say about a thing determines how you see it.

Oftentimes, a change in what you see merely warrants a change in what you speak. You are the first recipient of the words that flow from your mouth. When words escape your mouth, they go into your ears; from your ears, they enter your mind; from your mind, they enter your heart; from your heart, they influence your beliefs and actions. Perhaps you cannot rise in a particular area of your life because what you're speaking concerning the matter is holding you down. One's consistent declaration of I can't win for losing plants the seed of defeat, and each negative word you speak waters that seed and causes it to grow.

Instead of speaking defeat, declare 2 Corinthians 2:14 -- "But thanks be to God, who causes us to triumph..."

Instead of speaking sickness, declare Isaiah 53:5 --"With his stripes, I am healed..."

Instead of speaking lack, declare Psalm 23:1 & Philippians 4:19 -- "The Lord is my shepherd; I lack nothing...My God shall supply all my need..."

For every word of defeat, there is God's word of victory.

Watch what you're saying, because you will either starve from the emptiness of negativity (The enemy's lies) or be filled from the nourishment of positivity (The truth of God's word). Speak the Word of God over yourself and every situation in your life and watch how it changes your perspective.

Be Beautiful!

xoxo

Remembering 9/11...

09/11/12.

I'll never forget those numbers...that date. Whether I like it or not, it is forever etched upon my heart.

While America mourns the tragedy that claimed countless lives by the hands of terrorists, I mourn the traumatic loss of the life our unborn child at 14 weeks pregnant by the plan of God.

I remember that hot Summer morning as if it were yesterday. I could barely sleep the night before because of the anxiousness that flooded my heart at the thought of hearing our fourth addition's heartbeat again. About a week prior, I'd just began to feel flutters and soft taps on my tummy. For an expecting mother, that's the most amazing feeling.

Time seemed to move so slow that day. My 10:30AM appointment couldn't get there fast enough. But when I finally made it to the doctor's office and the nurse walked into the room with the handheld fetal doppler, my heart was filled with excitement.

Hearing your baby's heartbeat - what sounds like a herd of running horses - is the most precious sound to your ears.

After squeezing a glob of warm gel on my belly, my sweet nurse proceeded to find our sweet pea's heartbeat.

Left side. Nothing.

Right side. Nothing.

Upper abdomen. Nothing.

Lower abdomen. Nothing.

"Baby must be hiding," she said without making eye contact with me.

Instantly, my worry siren went off. She told me she was going to get my doctor to let her try with a different, better doppler.

In came my always upbeat doctor.  "Alright, let's hear this music," she said, referencing a baby's heartbeat being music to a mother's ears. She couldn't find it either.

Off to the sonogram room they sent me. Although I was praying that everything was alright with our baby, in the pit of my stomach I just knew something wasn't right.

As I lay on the examining table glaring intently at the sonogram screen, searching for the sign of our child's beating heart, my heart shattered to a billion pieces as I saw our baby's lifeless body lying inside my womb.

"I'm so sorry," I heard a soft voice saying. I couldn't see anyone though, because I was unable to see past the puddle of water that had built up in my eyes.  I couldn't believe what I'd just experienced. It was all so surreal.

I couldn't understand why I suddenly had a dagger in my heart, a lump in my throat that had seemed to obstruct my breathing, or a face wet with tears. Was I dreaming?  Was I in the middle of a horrible nightmare?  Was I being Punk'd?

Oh how I wished that it wasn't real. I still wish it wasn't. But it was, and still is. Very real...my reality.  My baby...our baby...our sons' sibling...gone. Just like that -- without warning.

I felt helpless.

I felt hopeless.

I felt forsaken.

I felt weak.

I felt deep sorrow.

I felt empty.

I felt broken.

I left the doctor's office feeling numb. I left carrying a baby that had no life. My baby...in my womb...dead. What agony!

As if the emotional pain was not enough, my body had delayed reaction to no longer being pregnant, and a week after having a D&C to remove our baby's body from my womb, I experienced the excruciating pain of physical miscarriage.

Talk about a double whammy!

I couldn't eat.

I couldn't sleep.

I couldn't speak.

I couldn't pray.

I couldn't write.

I couldn't smile.

I couldn't interact with my family.

It was the worst pain I'd ever experienced.

I descended deep into a pit of despair and depression and honestly began to believe that it was over for me. Of all of the challenging situations I'd overcome, this one had knocked me completely off my feet.  My internal world was upside down...chaotic...nothing made sense.  If I'm truly honest, for a moment, I was angry with God.  I couldn't understand why He'd allow something so heartbreaking to happen.  I couldn't figure out what I'd done to deserve such pain.

No one knew my raw pain...no one saw my inner turmoil...no one witnessed my emotional breakdown.  No one.  But God.

When I hid the true depths of my pain from those who came to comfort and console me, He saw it all.  He felt it all.  He understood it all.

He took the mess that I'd become and cleaned it up.  He wiped my tears.  He calmed my fears.  He broke the forming chains of mental and emotional turmoil, and commanded me, His daughter, to rise up from the ashes.  He breathed breath into my lifeless soul, strengthened my buckling knees, mended my shattered heart, and rescued my crushed spirit.   He. Healed. Me.

Totally.

Completely.

Amazingly.

As my mind and heart reflects on the anniversary of the loss of our angel baby, though my heart still feels a bit of a sting, I stand today immeasurably stronger, wiser and better than I was a year ago. The pain did not destroy me as I felt it would, but it has propelled me further into my destiny.

I could have drowned.

I could have been consumed.

I could have lost my mind.

I could have...I should have...I would have...but because of God's grace, I didn't.

Glory to God!

Pieces of Me: Embracing My Inner Beauty Pt. 2

I can still feel his hands -- cold and rigid against my soft, warm skin.

I can still feel the hotness of his breath creeping down the nape of my neck as he eased his body close to mine.

I would curl up into the fetal position and pretend to be asleep whenever I heard him coming or saw the shadow of his feet at the door. I always hoped that it'd make him change his mind about bothering me. My hopes never worked.

It was the same thing every time, yet the horror of it all worsened with each touch.  Although young, innocent, and uninformed about all things sex-related, I knew something about our encounters with one another wasn't right.

Groping. Fondling. Grinding. Digital penetration.

And then he'd perform the most disgusting act and release himself on me.  As a little girl, I was totally oblivious to what that warm, wet sensation and the moaning that accompanied it meant.

Then, he'd clean me up using the roll of tissue he kept stashed under my bed and exit the room, always sure to remind me that this was "our little special secret" and "no one could ever know."

I wasn't so sure that that was the kind of secret a 6-year old and a much older man should share, but I was afraid to expose it. I mean, I didn't have that kind of secret with any of my other cousins. Still, I never told anyone.

I remember him telling me once that letting him do those things to me made him feel good.

As I got older, those words never left the recesses of my mind, and I honestly believed that I was supposed to allow boys or men to do nasty, degrading things to me, as long as it made them feel good. I thought it was all that I was good for -- a good time.

Every time I let a guy to touch my body, I was replicating the behavior taught to me by my abuser. I didn't realize it then, but I had allowed him to shape my identity. I had accepted being the person he told me I was, and given him the power to determine my worth.

The enemy at work through my abuser had stolen my true identity and given me a false perception of who I was based on the things he did to me.

It took me years to break free from the bondage of that falsehood, forgive myself for believing the lie that I was only purposed to be some man's sex slave and for acting as such, and to discover my true identity in Christ.

I had to learn, through much prayer and studying God's word, that I was not a tainted woman because of the filth forced upon me by my abuser.  In spite of what happened to me, it did not at all change who I was or how God saw me.

Though my mind was twisted in the way I perceived myself and I struggled greatly with disassociating my worth and identity from the molestation I suffered, it was God's grace and His transforming power that cleansed and renewed me - mind, body, spirit and soul.

I am so eternally grateful for God's unconditional love, His mercy, and His grace.

Today, I understand that I am not what happened to me, but I am what God created me to be -- beautiful, valuable, worthy, whole, redeemed, and treasured. That's an identity no one could ever take away from me.

I embrace the beauty of me.

Be Beautiful!
xoxo