That twelve-year-old dined in the latrine. They bullied her out of the cafeteria, past the principal’s office, all the way to the grimy lavatory. How could a pudgy, intellect overcome such torment? What made her so unworthy? This wasn’t David against Goliath, this was David against Goliath and his three brothers who were just as big and ruthless. I’m talking a pre-teen battling shame, guilt, doubt, and fear. She acquiesced and dropped out of school, ran away from home and laid on her back to feel accepted and loved. That’s right. Acceptance and love. That’s what she was craved yet never received. She would rather die than to be rejected but there was one who died and was rejected that she might be accepted in the Beloved.
Experimenting with street drugs until she developed a habit, she became dependent on dependence. Codependence and abusive relationships hallmarked her life. Eventually, she would try this white powdery substance that makes your heart race and gives you a superwoman persona for about ten minutes, then she must chase it again. All her quests to support this habit in place of love and acceptance for herself led to a lengthy prison sentence. It was behind the cold, steel bars of a correctional facility that she learned about the quadruplet demons she would have to face before she could be free. Wrestling with thoughts of how life wasn’t that bad as a slave she committed to never being the same addicted, prostitute she was when she was first arrested.
The One who died for her introduced Himself in that prison cell. He advised her that she had options. She could either go to the mental ward, lock or follow Him. That twelve-year-old in a woman’s body decided it was time for a change and chose to follow the Gentleman who graciously gave His life in her place. After serving her time in prison she thought that because she changed her name from Sunshine to Jennifer and read the Bible that she did not have to fight to maintain the new life she gained. Quickly, she relapsed into old patterns of thought and even quicker into old patterns of behavior.
Jesus sent out a search party for her S.O.S. and rescued her from herself again there was more healing that needed to occur in her soul. She needed to get on God’s operating table and remain there for a while. So, she did. This is after a failed marriage, having a child with severe Autism while trying to manage her own Bipolar and PTSD symptoms. Finally, she learned that to move forward she must look backward. She revisited the latrine. She went back to the place of her greatest humiliation and shame and took the power from the bullies. This twelve-year-old in a woman’s body realized if she wanted to become a full-grown woman, emotionally she must grow past the pain and trauma of what was done to her.
She realized that shame, guilt, fear, and doubt was nailed to the cross. When Jesus died, the power of those things over her died when she believed in Him as her Savior. And when He resurrected. She resurrected without those things weighing in her soul. She has been quickened. Today she serves as a minister at her church, a full-time mom, she witnesses and evangelizes in the prison and detention centers and is used mightily by God. There isn’t a day that goes by that she does not thank God for changing her life. This short story marks the beginning of miracles in the life of this great woman of God.
©A Necessary Pain 2018
#Christian #Jesus #Bullying #Trauma #Overcomer #NewLife #Victory
I Deserved To Die
Where was the man?
When everybody stood there with stones in their hands
Ready to brutally murder me for my life is quicksand
My accusers accuse me. Sinners in the judgment seat
As if they haven’t slaughtered enough of these sheep
They’ll stone me for my sin yet the law they can’t keep
Admittingly I’m an adulterer caught in the very act
I need grace and forgiveness, not the Law that’s white or black
Let go of me, where are you taking me? Where am I at?
Little did they know that they brought me to Grace
I thought my life was over, He wrote in the sand, shame filled my face
The accusers publicly humiliated me presenting their case
Jesus stood up and said, “let he who is without sin cast the first stone”
Stones began dropping, I looked up we were all alone
From the oldest to the youngest each went to his home
After Jesus stood up from writing in the sand again
He asked me where everyone was does none condemn
I answered, “No ONE SIR” feeling relieved within
But then Jesus said something that transformed my sinful heart
Jesus said that He doesn’t condemn me either and gave me a fresh start
Stoning does not produce repentance but loves does its part
Since then I have turned, and my life has never been the same
To think that He condemned me not when I was to blame
I am so glad they dragged me to Him when I was covered in shame
Now my days are spent telling the world of His name
“JESUS, JESUS” He did not come to condemn
Stop throwing stones at each other and let Him in
He’ll give you a fresh start so you can begin again
©A Necessary Pain 2018
#Jesus #Christian #New #Life #Relationships #Hurt #Pain #Shame #Guilt
Prayer for a Pedophile
Stolen identity, sexually misused, yet you remain carefree. Toting my innocence and naivete. Just a child, yet caressed as a woman. Was it my low self-esteem or adult sized breast, that said touch me? I know I consented, but I was a pre-teen seeking validation. There was no one else, daddy certainly was unavailable to tell me of my beauty and worth. So I pulled up my skirt so that you could tell me who I was. Justify me with your touches, terrified of rejection, I did anything to be accepted. Surely, you must have endured abuse as well. A man of integrity would've sent me home, but you took my body first. For decades I've eaten the shame and guilt.
How could I have been so vulnerable? Why couldn't I just learn to love me? I refuse to continue to blame myself for the work of a pedophile. No need to return my identity, as I have a new name. Redeemed, I am. The love of God cleanses the dirty feeling, providing purity. The debauchery that is my youth no longer has the power to lord over me. As I learn to live with the sober knowledge of the abuse, misuse, riddled with shame and guilt, I am determined to forfeit the posture of a victim for the mindset of an overcomer. I forgive you, surely you've been hurt as well. It has been said that the hurting, hurt the most; this I know full well.
#ProseChallenge #getlit #itslit
The Girl in the Alley
Her adventurous tattered soul wandered from backstreet to holes found in the walls. Until one day she looked up and saw sky, wide, open. She realized that there was an opportunity, space, freeways unending up there. But she had to go higher. Surveying herself, noticing her extremities, the thought skirted through her head. Perhaps, she said, "if I apply myself and exert all of me, I can glide into that which is beautiful." Glancing at her feet she noticed that there were chains. Low self-esteem, linked to fear, fastened tightly to self-doubt, how could she escape? Jesus came, as she called out of desperation, and handed her the key. Pass the rats, around the needles, amid garbage she weaved in and out of this familiar terrain. Briskly walking, which quickly developed into running, sprinting, cross country until she was airborne. The chains had been there so long sometimes, as she flew the scars weighed her down a bit.
Nevertheless, she enjoyed writing in the sky, only dreaming of going higher. As the wind braided her hair, she looked down in the alley and saw other people there. This grateful girl worshiped the Key-giver, Waymaker, Plane changer. Boldly approaching her Savior, she was granted permission to soar within the gaze of the people, as Jesus has a key for them as well. She did as He instructed, and behold millions flew with her to go greet the Redeemer who provided the key. This story is not fiction and the girl is me.
Inconsistent love, where are you now
Pleasantly digressed, moved on somehow
Found another that makes you heart tick
Unappreciation smothered our wick
If you change your mind, perhaps I’ll remain
Whilst you take me for granted again and again
Inconsistent love, you are here today
May true love take root, cultivate, I pray