Tag Archives: isolation

Truth Slam

UrbanDictionary.com defines the term ‘poetry slam‘ as

 

“a type of poetry, usually a competition, expressing the personal story and/or struggle of the poet, usually in an intensely emotional style.
Very powerful, sincere, and moving.”

 

Now I’ve seen many a poetry slam and have always admired the courage and guts it takes to get up in front of a group of mostly strangers and lay all your ‘stuff’ out there for all to judge. I  don’t think I could actually DO that – do you?

 

For me anyway, when I feel wobbly and shaky, and the committee chatter from my broken parts (i.e., the voices that talk at us or the words/names that are thrown at us in our heads) is loud and chaotic, that I need to have my own slam…


truth signsla
m!

 

Its been confirmed by multiple sources, including myself, that I am in a funk. I have been in a really gnarly place lately. I’m talking abouta very familiar, very unwelcome place where I spent too much of my life in years past, trying to convince everyone including myself that I was doing just fine, thank you very much! I was a woman that worked hard,  loved my family and friends, and thought that if I just kept pluggin’ things would get better… somehow, some way.

 

But they never did. They became worse with each passing year, until I was obsessed about how to die. I believed and listened as the lies were flung around inside of me in the dark. And they all said the same thing: 

                             

 

You are worthless. I hate you. You don’t deserve to be alive.

 

 

 

The lies were so entrenched in my soul and my spirit that I bought them hook, line and sinker. I was broken, feeling hopeless and was losing the battle to stop hurting myself with my words and actions…
I simply couldn’t find a way to hang on any longer.

 

Then I learned about the POWER of Truth:
 

God.
And there you have it.  Simply God.

 

What I have learned is that God sees the big picture and knows the whole story from beginning to end. I do not.

  – Truth is the greatest weapon I have.  It’s what kills lies.

 


TRUTH kills lies!

 

All of the destructive, soul killing lies that bounce around in my head – wildly out of control –
are DEAD as soon as TRUTH is thrown into the mix.

 


It’s called FREEDOM. Truth really DOES set us FREE!!

 

 

 

So when those lies start running around causing trouble, I need to remind myself to remember the TRUTH.

And the truth is what God says it is. Period.

Truth that tells you that ‘you are LOVED unconditionally, to the moon and back, by the Creator of the Universe!

 

Truth that SEES me, and yet beckons, ‘Come to me with your weariness and burdens and I will give you REST,’ and ‘Whosoever will, let her come…’

 

Truth that tells me that He is who He says He is! I am who GOD says I am! The head and NOT the tail!

 

Truth that willingly climbed onto a tree and chose to love me like no one else ever would.

 

Its right HERE…when I’m in this place of regret and remorse and shame, that I find this immovable, unrelenting TRUTH… and it brings FREEDOM!
                                             
What about YOU? Are you bound by something and its keeping you from God’s best?

Are you struggling to get & stay FREE from something?

What do you do in those moments?

 

Grateful.

The calenLove Letters from the Edge: Meditations for Those Struggling with Brokenness, Trauma, and the Pain of Lifedar confirms what I suspected when I woke yesterday morning: it was the official publishing date, June 1, 2014, of my first book – or any book for that matter!

Wow. No, really. WOW. WOW! How the heck did THIS happen? What the heck? Exactly WHO the HECK do I think I am?

I actually feel the urge to let myself giggle – just let that almost hysterical giggle that is bubbling up inside of me just SPILL OUT! Loudly. For a long time. I mean, who would have thought that I would be doing THIS? It really is a miracle whether you know it or not.

 

So am I. A miracle. A grateful miracle.

 

Let me cut to the chase, ok?

Not too long ago I was soul-sick and dying. Right there in front of people, I was bleeding out, gasping for an unrestrained breath, and grasping at anything that had the potential to ‘fix’ me. I needed something, anything, that would help me make it through the next moment, day or year without shooting myself or stepping out in front of an 18-wheeler barreling down the highway. 

So grateful that the God of the universe listens to His people when they pray – and that prayer really DOES change things… and PEOPLE!

 

 Love Letters from the Edge: Meditations for Those Struggling with Brokenness,
Trauma, and the Pain of Life

is the name of my book.

It’s co-authored with my friend and mentor, award-winning author Shelly Beach.

It’s not a ‘comfortable’ book because it deals with trauma.
And brokenness. And doubt. And hard questions.

 

But the name of the book speaks of love letters because after women give voice to the pain, lament and trauma of their life – God responds with words of TRUTH and LOVE. He speaks words of a Father who loves His children… most especially the wounded, sick and broken among us. He writes a love letter in response to our pain and questions – and still calls us His very own and continues to love us more than anyone ever will.

If you know someone who is struggling to ‘get it right’, but no matter what she does or how many promises she makes, she just can’t stop doing the things that harm her and cause her to walk in shame, she needs to know that there is HOPE. HOPE for wholeness and healing.

Hope for a good life when trauma, not symptoms, are processed.


Hope. Because there is God.

 

Check it out at www.LoveLettersFromtheEdge.com

 

Guest blogger: How Trauma Taught Me It Can Be Right to Be Wrong

by guest blogger, Shelly Beach
ShellyBeachOnline.com

 

chile - wind.fire.cloud

For most of my childhood and teen years, no matter how loudly I spoke to my dad or how many words I poured out, I felt unheard.

My opinions didn’t matter. Sharing my ideas with my father felt like trying to set up patio furniture in a hurricane. I could barely get a thought out of my mouth when Dad hurled it into oblivion.

 

My father was R.I.G.H.T.

All of the time.

No questions asked.

 

This past year I went for trauma therapy. As my team of therapists evaluated my history, I was certain they’d focus on my two sexual assaults, the deaths I’d witnessed, and other significant traumatic incidents in my life.

Instead, they focused on my relationship with my father. The truth was that even though my dad had provided well for me, protected me, cared for me, and loved me to the best of his ability, his inabilities to communicate safety, love, compassion, and acceptance had a profound impact on my childhood.

I grew up feeling abandoned, isolated, alone. I longed for my father’s approval and became a slave to performance, always with one eye on what other people thought of me. Unfortunately, I became a wife and mom who was driven to be R.I.G.H.T. All of the time. No questions asked. Until I admitted that I, too, needed help.

Trauma treatment, I discovered, isn’t only about sexual abuse or the tragedies of war. It’s about  the deep hurts that stop us in our tracks and keep us stuck in the past.

Getting unstuck takes courage and work. It’s worth every bit of investment we make. And healing IS possible, no matter what form our trauma takes.

I now understand it’s a terrible thing to be right–only (in the words of my pastor). It is far better to admit that we are broken and on a journey to wholeness. My journey began when I admitted my need of treatment for trauma that was rooted in childhood–even though I grew up in a home with two well-intentioned parents who loved me very well in many ways.

Admitting we have been hurt and that we have hurt others is not an admission of failure. It is an admission of our humanity and shared need for grace. And it is often the first step in our healing.

 

Photo Credit: BlueTexas.blogspot.com