It’s the last day.
I didn’t write the last couple of nights because I needed to rock a snotty baby, I needed to take lots of pain medication, I needed to think about something OTHER than the darkness I’ve held onto in my heart.
Although I didn’t write every day (I knew I was too focused on writing when my wandering day-thoughts were “I could write about this, or this or this”) I think exposing the darkness to light helped me to garner a little control over the memories and fears that have plagued me for so long.
I was molested.
I was sexually assaulted.
I was raped.
I AM MOTHER to five children, even though I WAS infertile.
I AM WIFE to a very handsome, man who makes me feel safe and beautiful, even though I WAS dumped many-a-time.
I AM PRINCESS to the KING even though I WAS a screw-up.
I am not a victim. I don’t even think of myself as a “survivor.” I am saved.
Even though sometimes I feel a bit broken inside, I am all here. Pieces have to be knit back together (like that darn pubic symphysis) but even before I was conceived, God had a plan for me. I haven’t overcome all my anxiety, fears, doubts. They are part of me that I am learning how to use, be strong with instead of against, grow out of, grow from.
So, tonight, 22 years later, with a baby at the breast and children trying to get one more piece of candy out of their stash before coming up to bed, I am alive…with joy. Things could have turned out differently – I could have become angry at God because he allowed these things to happen to me.
But I didn’t, well, I did for a short time, a whole 2 years of my life I lived my double life. BUT I know now that I didn’t need to be angry at God and throw away MY life in the meantime. Fortunately, God didn’t let me throw away my life. He renewed passion in me. Saved me, again, from the dark alleys and dead end streets. (Colossians 1:13-14)
I am grateful that God has a perspective that I don’t have, He knows the end story, He sees the tapestry being woven, when all I can see is the blood-red colour, or the charcoal that seems to be dominating my days, there are times of blue, of orange – and growth. The people who are woven into relationships with me, the challenges that come my way, the nights staring at the clock after another nightmare wakes me and shakes me to the core. All these things have the ability to be used by God to be turned into something beautiful.
My life is busy. But not glamourous. Not anything to be excited about – but it is good. It’s a good story of how God does work things together for fabulousness. (Romans 8:28) Our story is always full of “just so happened” moments that make all the stories amazing. You know, those “coincidences” that completely change the outcome of a story? Like a pair of luxury suites in a vineyard for our family at 1:30 in the morning? Or a baby conceived with contraception to two people with infertility? Or a coffee bar conversation because someone was smoking marijuana on the air intake “thing” at the grad school. Our life is an amazing series of stories. But they aren’t ALL beautiful. Some of them are dark. Scary. Fearful. Some of them are about cancer. About disease. About rape. About miscarriage.
And, I am so grateful that I was able to share with you the parts of me I want to hide all the time. When I hide this part of me, or at least TRY to, I hide the real me, the part of me with fears, with weakness, with hang-ups around being perfect. That you are reading my story – even the dark parts. The not-so-fun parts. And praying. Encouraging. Sharing.
Thank you for helping me to be proactive in this month. To not try to hide from the reason I’m afraid – but to face it so that I had control over it (to an extent).
My final submission for Facing Memory