Wednesday, June 29, 2011


Retreat. My brain utters to me. Retreat!!! It begins to yell when I refuse to listen. It has screamed at me to protect my soul. To protect everything that is me. For so long I did just that. I retreated and protected myself. I hid behind the ex. I hid behind his temper. His fierceness. I hid behind his broad shoulders and wide stance. I hid behind his strength and his determination to protect me however he needed to.

I no longer have him. There is no boulder to hide behind. I have no armor to keep me safe. I am completely vulnerable to the impending doom that I know is out there waiting for me. Safety is an illusion. It is a fairy tale created by those that have not walked in my foot steps. I feel alone and abandoned in a world full of people who do not know the terror that lives in my mind every waking day and night.

Retreat! My mind pleads with me. He could be anywhere. The devil waits at the end of the grocery store isle. That tall, slender man could be him. Prepare to run just in case it is. Every stranger is a monster waiting to attack. Every shadow is the evil that I live with. Every sound is him approaching. I can not convince my mind other wise.

You're not safe. It tells me. You thought you were twice. You were wrong on both accounts. Why do you think you are now? What makes you so sure?

But, I'm not sure. I'm not anything but scared. My house is too big. My bed is too wide. My covers offer no sanctuary. I am afraid of the dark. I am leery of the light. Nowhere is safe for me. I am open to attack at all times.

I am hesitant to go home. Home. The most dangerous place on earth. And it is just that. Dangerous. Your home can be broken into. Your home is where you can get taken from. It is your home that will vomit you out and offer you up as a sacrifice to the evil that waits you. So, no, home is not a place of solitude.

Home is hell.

My friends offer no advice. They are at a loss of words. They can do nothing but sit and stare, mouth gaped open. Confused. Horrified at the thought that they know someone who lives with this. My misfortune has brought on a nightmare for them. They bite their lips. Fighting back the tears, they nod their head in the respective places during my nightmarish tale. But, their silence speaks louder than any words that they could ever utter. What do you say to someone who is broken? How can you offer to put someone back together when the pieces don't fit? There's nothing anyone can do for me. So, I all I can do is retreat.

Retreat into myself. Curl into a ball of emotions. Bury the pain. Bury the torture that lives in me. Bury it all and isolate myself. I have created a dam that I am determined to break. And when it does break, all I can do it pray that I pushed people back enough to the point that they will not be hurt by my own destruction.


Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Looking For God

I looked for God today. I looked for Him everywhere. Work was making me frustrated. My children were making me tired. I was give out. Exasperated, I sat down in my recliner and sighed.

I looked for you today.

While tucking my children into bed, I made the half hearted attempt at prayers. The 4 year old was already asleep before I could even turn out the light. The Red Head was not too far behind him. With the house quiet, I revisited my recliner.

Where were you today?

I don't often get too overwhelmed. But, when I do, it is a doozy. I usually remain cool and collected during most events that would rattle anyone else. I have been blessed with the talent to think outside the proverbial box, and that has allowed me to exercise my problem solving skills on more than one occasion. However, when I am hit with days, or even weeks, like the one I am experiencing now, I have to sit down. My form of panicking involves a lot of sighing. Followed closely with irritation and sarcasm. I have to remind myself to pray. I know that God will take care of me. He always has. When I look back, even on recent events, I see His hand steadily holding mine. I can see His intervention as clear as I can recall any other memory. Sometimes, however, it's hard to focus on the bigger picture. Sometimes, I need a gentle reminder that God has a plan for me.

It sucks that a gentle reminder to God is actually a big kick in the butt to me.

Looking for some form of an answer, I opened the bible. I thumbed through the scripture until I rested on the Book of Job. That is something I never should have done. To me, Job is the most frustrating story of the Bible. It offers no answers. No insight into the mind of our Heavenly Father. It simply tells the story of a man who waited out suffering that was so horrific, it would make most men curl up and die. But, Job never did that. Even when his wife turned her back on him, even after his friends proclaimed that he MUST have done something wrong, other wise God would never punish him, Job simply waited out his torture. Yes, he cursed the day he was born. But, he never once cursed God.

I've read the book several times. Each time, I hope to run across some passage that I've missed in my previous attempts. And each time I come away feeling more frustrated at my inability to break down and analyze the information before me. I just want an answer to my question.

Why is life so hard?

Or better yet, why do bad things happen to good people?

God's answer to Job is His terms. We are not to know these answers. And that really irritates me. To me, that answer is the equivalent of "Because I said so." That's what I tell my children when they want to know why they can't eat their weight in candy. Or why they can't have soda. It's not an answer you'd expect from an all powerful God that created us in His image. But, it's the one He gives us. It's pretty much the only one He tells us.


So, today, while at work, feeling overwhelmed and fed up, trying not to lose my temper and go all harry-cary-krishna on some unsuspecting victim that just happened to walk by, I stole away into my office and closed the door. I prayed and looked to God for comfort. I rambled on about the day and how I was tired of this and fed up with that.

Nothing. No response. He wasn't there.

Where are you?

Now, as I lay in bed, laptop open and the lamp on beside me, I hear tiny footsteps. I know who it is. My little 4 yr old peeks his head around the door. He grins that beautiful grin that I am blessed to have in my life everyday. I motion for him to come into bed. As he lays down, he curls his small body up beside mine.

"I love you, Mommy." He tells me as he breaks out into a yawn. "When I grow up I'm going to marry you. You are the best mommy ever."

I see you now.