behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours begins…mitch albom
i’ve taken hammer and nails to pin up the rafters that were built from LIES! fix the leaky faucets and put new panes of glass in its broken windows so no one could see what was really going on.
i now know there is a word for this and it is called “crazy making” they make you believe it is you responsible for all of their sickness..you blame you and so do they hence the adjective “crazy making”
no one would believe us anyway and the hardest thing was saying with my voice my part in the story...how sick can someone be to live that way and call it love?
still to this day that decade makes me physically sick
one day or maybe it was years of “days” i drew back the curtains of my heart house and i let Your Light shine into my heart for the very first time.
i knew i had to stop this madness that we thought normal and blaze a new trail for myself and run a brand new race for the rest of my life.
and then hand it over as a runner hands the baton to the next person so my daughters stand on up ahead with their hands out.
i see them shadowed by the sun setting spilling God’s glory all over us waiting..watching..and calling me forward so they can grab it when it goes by it is the passing of history.
setting things free is history making..almost a sacred work
because at some moment i knew it was him or me
we had already ripped the fabric of our family to pieces..and there is no way..humanly speaking to EVER heal such destruction of souls these kinda things leave scars deep and long and for the first time i wanted to do the hard thing.
the choice that was the scariest thing i have ever done…to choose my own freedom
i had to choose to let go of control of what i thought it was going to look like..what my children thought it was going to look like..heck i still don’t know what it is going to look like...it is being rebuilt each and everyday
i just knew i didn’t want to grow old with the idea of “hoping it will change”. i don’t want to die in that hope. i gave 12+years to this dream..no more
it is eery…i get sad when i think about my mom. we sit over steaming mugs of coffee long cold and half eaten plates of carbs calling it a cheap therapy session but the truth of it doesn’t escape me. action and owning our own addictions are the only way out. the only road to freedom.
i believe that God is giving me the opportunity to run this next part of the our family history .. i have chosen to take the baton. the weight pushes me down telling me to quit. it is in these moments that i begin asking what in the world AM I DOING!! that God gently reminds me of esther..of nehemiah..of jeremiah..of paul His words are my energy — they are my life blood. my oxygen
i am not running for myself only…i am running for all the women in my family..for my daughters
it is the history making of these words that propel me forward. i most likely will not live to see all of this play out but God lets me hear the freedom bell ringing…i know my daughters will have freedom
freedom becomes the sound of my shoe hitting the pavement creating a hypnotizing narcotic to numb the pain for a bit so i am able to get a little farther down the road.
daily i stand .. hand on hips.. breathing hard and fast..bending over trying to catch my breath. sweat covering my whole body that is bloody and bruised..often in places that human eye cannot see. the heart bruises..the abrasions from lying sandpaper that just.won’t.STOP!
the pain from the unseen places throb and gnaw at me the most the enemy of our soul…others and myself trip me up on somedays..throwing me headlong into a cycle of doubt and despair–trying to lure me back into the crazy
but not today. not today
i want to leave you with these words..i am not sure who wrote them but they strengthen me and i pray they strengthen you
“nothing good comes easily you have to lose things you thought you loved, give up things you thought you needed. you have to get over yourself, beyond your past, out from under the weight of your future. the good stuff never comes when things are easy. it comes when things are all heavily weighted down like moving trucks–
my dear friend lissa let me use this image from her ig…i fell in love with it. i thought it was perfect for the wilderness memoirs