"The Call" to go back -- pick it up or suffer!

If I keep my eyes focused forward then I don't ever need to deal with what is in my peripheral vision. 

I see it, it's there, but if I close my eyes long enough to pass it and pretend that it's not there.... then I will survive today.

It's always there but if I create enough mind-numbing bad habits or fill my day with the loud noise of this world then I can get another chance to forget about it. A momentary relief.

All I need to do is to survive today and hopefully (if God really loves me) I won't wake up tomorrow. 

I believe that any one who God has called has hurled this internal scream at Him.

What you just read has been my state of mind for the past month (yes, January 2017) because I don't want to be obedient to God. AT ALL!!!
I don't want to go to church! I don't want to write about my journey with Him! I don't want to give up my liquor! I have a list of "I don't wants" and I can guarantee you that if I continue in this disobedient "I don't want" state, not only will I suffer BUT so will my babies. And I KNOW this. 

I, as a mama,  KNOW THIS!!!

My babies are always watching me to see... IS JESUS REAL?

I don't have the heart to do that to them. I can't imagine allowing my kids to suffer at the hands of my disobedience when I know that God wants to bless them.

Throughout the Bible God talks about His blessings and curses and what happens to the children of those that CHOOSE to fight against Him. I lose, they lose. Simple as that.

NOOO!!!

I want my kids to receive whatever blessings they can get without my stubborn ass holding them back.

So, me sitting and writing this is my fight to be obedient because -- "IT" is killing me.

I thought that it was gonna be dead and gone last year BUT it is alive and well and it is trying to kill me and no amount of gorging on "bad habits" will take it away.
I can't outrun it.
It is there when I close my eyes and when I open them.  
It is always there when I arrive.

IT IS EVERYWHERE!!! I have NOWHERE to hide.

So, I might as well stand up, look straight at it, grab it by its neck then shake the living fuck out of it because running away has me worn out.

I'M EXHAUSTED!!!

The "it" I am referring to is the call to share my journey.  

My testimony but mostly my past.

How I was abandoned by my natural parents and then found by ones who would enslave me for several years. Then how later God would use these same people to push me into a place of understanding His GREAT love, my heartbreaking loss, and why I must choose to surrender my life into His hands  DAILY!!!

I'm no longer bitter or angry about my past. I'm just SAD that I can't move on without "it" always being there.
It's in every damn corner and/or conversation. It's annoying.

Like Jim Carry from the Cable guy. It won't leave you alone. It's in the room when you enter. Yikes!

Here's some comic relief because this is gonna be some heavy shit! 

:)

Okay, lets get serious though....

Sharing my story has also become kind of a nuisance to me because I feel like I've shared it enough. So why continue?

I've been given several reasons but one is because there is more to my story that I don't believe is important to share BUT God does.

He sees an INTRICATE DETAIL that I am not able to see and if you know Jesus Christ personally as your Savior then you will know that He is VERY DETAIL ORIENTATED. 
Like major OCD'ish. Worse than anyone I have ever known. Trust me. It's part of His character.

Details are VERY IMPORTANT to Him. Especially when it comes to the care and well-being of His kids. 

If you didn't know this about Him, NOW YOU DO!

Anyways, I don't fully understand why I need to share the crap I had to walk through to get to where I am able to function with other human beings.
I really don't know how it will be beneficial for anyone, including myself, to continue sharing, publicly, more about my journey because I've already written about my flawed upbringing, the abuse I had to endure and how I overcame the "mentally ill" title I was given.

I feel like I have healed enough to function in society as a "sane" person. A person of peace whom no longer strives to cause or create drama.

But here I am. God's call for me has not changed.

"Rise up; take courage and do it.” ~Ezra 10:4

Two months ago, in November, my brother (who was also one of my childhood sex offenders. I'm not ready to say the "R" word.) was sentenced to finally serve some prison time for his over 30 years of sexual offenses. I have already written about this in another post HERE.

After his year long court ordeal ending in him finally admitting guilt and all was said and done a part of me was convinced that I can now move on with my life.

I felt like I had done everything that I needed to do. I didn't stand on the sideline. I made the call. I stood alone. I cried at night and smiled in the day. I did my part. I fought hard and I believed my battle was done.

I felt a great sense of relief knowing that he finally had a place that was no longer around children and where he could finally get the HELP he needed away from the family that enabled his actions.

But most importantly, for someone like me that had to deal with the shame of incest and the family looking the other way, that he would finally have a label that would hold him and those that chose to be around him ACCOUNTABLE for his actions.
Because prior to his imprisonment NOT ONE family member stood by me when I called the police to report his abuse towards children. NOT ONE! NO ONE!

So, why am I still not free to move on with my life?
Why have my nightmares not gone away and gotten worse?
Why am I still triggered by horrible memories?
Why am I still needing to drink myself to sleep?
Why is suicide still at the forefront of my mind on most mornings?
(Some mornings are easier than others but my recent mornings, especially since the new year, has been almost down right crippling.)

WHY???

Because: God's call on my life has not changed!

My brother going to jail and my family needing to face their part in his abuse has not changed God's call for me to continue sharing my testimony.

I DON'T KNOW WHY!!! It just hasn't.

Welcome to my life!

I'm Surina and I am a child of God trying to follow Jesus the best way I know how because -- IT'S PERSONAL! 

BTW...
if you don't like my word use then please feel free not to read my blogs because I'd rather write in honest form than try to please you. I will be addressing "words" in a later blog but for now this is me in a process towards further healing. I look forward to the day that my mouth stops cussing. But today is not that day. Goodbye!

If you fully obey the Lord your God and carefully follow all his commands I give you today... the fruit of your womb will be blessed..." ~Deuteronomy 28:1,4

How this election season showed me the area in my heart that is still not surrendered to God.

This political season has been NASTY all the way around.   

This presidential election year was brutal both inside and outside our home. My husband and I were united when it came to supporting Ben Carson but once Carson was off the ballot and the only two real ticket holders was Clinton and Trump, the battle was on. 
My husband chose to side with the Don as suggested by Carson and I decided that I would stand with Hillary.  
For most women like myself, this was a battle of man vs. woman. Both candidates were power hungry and in a power grab I wanted a woman to win. 
I believe that a win for one woman is a win for all women. 
 

My husband was not the least bit pleased with my choice considering all that she had supposedly done. I say "supposedly" because the evidence was not concrete enough for me and I wasn't about to dismiss her until the evidence was so concrete that I could stand on a solid NO in voting against the first possible woman president. 

I have always been in favor of supporting women and their gain in powerful positions primarily held by men. This, however, does not include the church. 
I don't believe that women should hold power in church settings nor grasp at the chance. Jesus made this clear when He said to "give Caesar what is Caesar's and give God what is God's." 
So, for me and because it is written in the Bible, the church should always be led by men.
BUT the world, in the other hand, is up for grabs and women have just as much of a chance at the podium of power.

Standing with Hillary seemed right because she is a woman and I, as a woman, believed that it was time to put a woman in the White House.

BUT......   

I have come to believe that God uses these political seasons to TEST the faithfulness and obedience of those who claim to "love" and "follow" Him.  To show His kids where their trust and focus lie. To show what is really in our hearts. 
For me, the BIG question was -- am I surrendered to God's will or not?
Am I???

After several weeks of debating with my very conservative spouse I came upon a scripture that really captured me. 

 "He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them His way." ~Psalm 25:9

When I read this scripture I had to ask Him if I was voting His way. 
Was I being humble enough to be taught by Him? 
So, as David did in Psalm 139, I asked Him to...

"Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. 

Point out ANYTHING IN ME that offends You, and lead me along the path of everlasting life."

Well, it didn't take long for God to show me the condition of my heart and where I was still being rebellious against Him.  

I'm gonna be vulnerable enough to admit the HUGE crack in my foundation of faith: 
I am (to this very day and as I write this) BROKEN and warring against OBEDIENCE in the area of FEMALE IDOLATRY.

• I idolize my right as a woman MORE than being a follower of Jesus Christ. 
• I love my womanhood MORE than I love Jesus. 
• I have a stronger desire to protect my right as a woman MORE than I desire to please the God I say I serve. 

I knew what God's word said and I knew that what Hillary stood for in the area of gay rights and abortion was against Him but I didn't care. 
God's will and truth was not my focus. 

I was doing exactly what Romans 1:25 stated:

"They traded the truth about God for a lie. So they worshiped and served the things God created instead of the Creator himself, who is worthy of eternal praise!"

 Because of this idolatry -- I am a rebel -- not for God but against Him. 

So, how did God catch me in my rebellion and redirect my steps? 
How did He use my strong desire to advocate for women and their rights?? 
How did He help me to put Him back at His rightful place in all my decisions???

He sent me something I did NOT want to see but could not ignore.  
He knew what it would take to break my disobedience. He sent me a child. 

A little redheaded girl. Her name is Kathy Shelton.

Honestly, when her story came across to me I chose to ignore it as one of the many attacks that were not legitimate but as I went along my way her little face kept coming to mind until after a few months later I decided to go ahead and read her testimony.
Child-rape-victim-comes-forward-after-40-years

After reading Kathy's testimony and doing a lot of research to make sure that it was not a fake claim, I knew right then and there that no matter how badly I wanted to see a woman in the White House, Hillary was not getting my vote.

Like I stated in the beginning of my blog: a win for ONE woman is a win for ALL women.

For me, Hillary left a woman behind.

A little girl that did not deserve the brutality of rape and then to be victimized again by one of her own kind. Hillary betrayed her and when you, as a woman, betray your own kind then you are traitor more than a woman.

I never want to diminish the value of one woman especially when that woman is a child.

To be a woman is of GREAT value. 

My Facebook post on election night to explain why I didn't vote for Hillary.

Hillary was not a good candidate to represent the beauty of women unity.

One day there will be such a woman and I will PROUDLY vote for her with a clean conscience and know that I didn't go against the God I love and serve.

So, with all that, I'll let Madeleine Albright close out my blog with her quote that she obviously did not remember to adhere to.

Oh, the hypocrisy!

Thanking a saint for service.

This week as I was strolling through my Instagram account I was hit with a very sobering reality -- there are parents that sacrifice their time from raising their children to reach out to my child to come to know the love of Jesus.

Oh, the sacrifice of God's saints...

   

Instagram photo by Charlotte Gambill (charlgambill)

  When I saw this photo I immediately was in tears because this woman, this mum, this servant, is the one who preached my daughter to Jesus and to see her daughter's sad face was all I needed to tell this woman how grateful I was for her families sacrifice. I was not expecting a back response because I didn't think that sharing our experience with her was that big a deal. Obviously it was...

Thank you for your service!

I think as Christians we are made to believe that these traveling saints are living a glamorous life of travel with lots of people attentively listening to every word that falls from their face BUT really these saints are called to a life of continual goodbyes, personal/enemy attacks, bad weather travel delays, and the constant reminder that tomorrow is not promised to them or their families. So, every goodbye could be the last goodbye.

BUT....for the Gospel and Hope of delivering the Goodnews of Jesus they GO! They and their families GO! Sometimes together but most of the time apart. But nevertheless, for Jesus, they all GO!

Praise God for families like the Gambills! Thank You Jesus for their love and obedience to You. May You bless their feet as they walk this earth with Your LOVE in hand. 

 If you ever get a chance to thank a saint that is traveling for the sake of the Gospel please take the time to say "THNANK YOU!!!" In Jesus name.     

Choosing to move Closer to God

You ever have a time in your life where you get hit in the face by the sheer evil in this world and you fall down on your knees and the first words that come out of your mouth is "God, I hate you!" and God starts to tell you about how much He loves you and you tell Him that He's the reason for all your problems. Then as you sit in your pool of tears broken and tired from the weight of hate that you finally say "okay, help me. What do I do?" and He simply says "worship Me." Then He brings you that one song that becomes a light in that time of darkness. Ever have those days???

Well, I did a few days ago and I literally had this song play until it became a part of me. Until I could believe every single word about His love for me.
I've never heard of this song until that day and now, it's part of my library.

The day God taught me the POWER of His forgiveness.

This past weekend my pastor taught on the need for followers of Jesus to forgive and how the "F" word in church is FORGIVENESS.

Now, I've heard him say this  before and my mind would usually retort with an automatic "no, pastor... the F-word for me is still a flat out f*ck!"
Hey, I'm only being honest about what goes on in my head sometimes when I hear certain messages. I can lie and pretend that I'm super holy in my thought life but there's enough liars in the church. And no, I don't hate my pastor. My thoughts just have a way of running amuck and sometimes I don't bother to catch them especially when I'm tired.

BUT this time his message hit me in a very unexpected way.
As my mind was about to go where it normally does I immediately heard God say:

"Surina, I want to bless you BUT not with that attitude. Mind your mind!" 

He then reminded me of how and when He taught me the power of His forgiveness.
It was the FIRST time I chose to trust Him as my Guide. Up to this point I had only known Him as Teacher.

If you've read any of my other writings then you will know that sharing this is not easy but VERY NECESSARY.

I truly BELIEVE that in order for God to grow His kids in acknowledging His power, in any area of their life, FORGIVENESS IS A MUST. 

PERIOD!!!

It's our KEY to be FREE and to RECEIVE EVERYTHING JESUS DIED TO GIVE US.

The first time I allowed my daughter to go near my brother. Forgiveness removes fear and shame. It reconciles.

My lesson on forgiveness all started with a phone call around 2:30am in April of 2010. It was my niece:

"aunty, I know you probably won't care but..."

before she even finished her words I knew that it was time. God had awoken me seconds before my phone rang. Something in my gut was on fire and I heard "GET UP!" my heart was beating very fast and when I picked up my phone I could only respond with:

"I'm coming. Where is he?"

"Southwest ER. And aunty... the family doesn't know that I'm calling you. He's lost a lot of blood and the doctors are trying to save him."

"It's okay. Don't tell them. I'm leaving right now."

Everything that morning moved very quickly. I swear the call was less than a minute but in that time I had my shoes and coat on with my car keys in hand.

Also in that time, my husband was awoken and ready to battle with me -- for me.

"Pio is in the ER and I'm going to him."

"No, you're not!"

"Paul, I have to go. I don't know how to explain it. I just have to go to him."

"Why?"

"He's bleeding to death and I need to be with my family. I don't know why but I believe God wants me to go."

"Good! He deserves to die! I hate your family! They treat you like shit and now you want to be with them. If you leave -- WE ARE DONE!!!"

I paused long enough to think of all the ways my husband has tried to protect me but at that time I knew what I needed to do. With or without him.

"You're right. But I'm still going. You can talk to God about it but this is what I know He wants me to do."

Arguing with my husband took about three minutes and by now he was standing in the kitchen and I was next to the front door. Miraculously, neither of our kids woke up. When he realized that he was not going to be able to stop me from leaving he finally said:

"Okay, go. But be back before I have to go to work. I don't want to be late."

And out the door I went.

My drive to the ER was a very long twenty-five minutes. In that time I can not even describe the clarity of my mind. I was not in a rush. I felt a peace that I can not even explain. I knew that my life was about to change but I didn't know in what way.

As I was driving I had a flood of memories.
I remembered that in late 2007 God told me to forgive him for the sexual abuse I endured and out of obedience I reluctantly and silently forgave him. Mentally I had forgiven him but my actions displayed a whole different story.

Although I no longer ignored his presence in the room I would, however, not allow him to come near me or to touch me or my kids in any way especially my daughter. My anxieties were VERY high in his presence and my fear made it uncomfortable for everyone in the room because they knew and hoped that I would just get over it. But I just couldn't get over it. No amount of alcohol could drown it out.

Being obedient to God made me feel victimized all over again and I started to believe that God hated me even more. My fake "I forgive you" method wasn't working.
I couldn't handle the pain of the secret, I wasn't strong enough, so I left my very large tight-knit family.

But that morning, during my drive, I couldn't help but ask God to let him live so I could pray with him and tell him about Jesus.
I told God that I'd do anything to see him in heaven and during my prayer I felt compelled to finally call him "brother".
As that word came out of my mouth I felt a freedom and strength come over me. Like a strong invisible covering.

I arrived to the ER and I felt ready to stand before my family. I am the youngest of all ten siblings but on that day I was not to play the baby sister role.

When I arrived I was directed to a private waiting room. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

As expected, my family was very surprised to see me. They usually always are (since 2002) because I tried to have this same bleeding-to-death brother arrested for sexual abuse and from that day on my invitations to family gatherings became nonexistent. I was the outcast. The black-sheep. The adopted one. The leak in their very tight-knit group.
But deep down in my heart I knew that they still loved me.
Strange, huh? Welcome to my family. Beautifully, horribly broken.

As I stood at the door and looked around at all the faces, my heart was filled with compassion. I loved and missed each and every one of them. 
I made my rounds to hug and greet each one (as is the custom) then I sat and asked for an update.
My sister shared what had happened to him and that I could be next to see him since they were only allowing one visitor at a time. My number one objective was to pray for him.

Within a few minutes I was given the okay to go into his room. As I made my way to him I kept asking God to do whatever He needed to do.
When I entered through the curtain he was asleep with tubes attached to him. He looked horrible. He still had blood stains on his face. The drugs had taken a toll on his body. Sin was killing him.

As I stood looking at him I was not angry in any way. All my hate was gone.

I took his cold left hand and knelt down beside his gurney and prayed that God would give me a chance to tell him about Jesus and how I wanted to see him in heaven. I then arose and returned to the waiting room before heading home.
I told my siblings that I had to go and send my husband and kids off for the day but that I would be back.

As I was driving home I remained silent because I felt like I was receiving my marching orders on what the rest of my week was to look like. I was to serve my family until further notice.

One of the ways I was to serve them was to make sure that they were fed and so when I returned later that same morning I took breakfast. At noon, lunch was served. Dinner, same thing.

By the time I came back they had moved him to a private room. Several hours later I was told that he was awake and asked if I was ready to see him. After a deep breathe -- I was ready.

When I entered his room he was surprised to see me and faintly said:

 "Rina, you're here?"

I walked toward him, took his now warm left hand, and shared how much God loved him.
I told him that I didn't hate him enough not to see him in heaven and then asked him the question I had been waiting to ask:

"Do you want to receive Jesus today?"

In silence, he slowly shook his head up and down. I went and got a chair and sat next to him. I told him to repeat after me. (I had never led anyone to Christ before that day.)
A few weeks prior to this day, God had me prepare a salvation prayer for my niece (the one who called me) to read for when she was ready to receive Christ and never had I thought that this was to be the salvation prayer I was going to pray for this brother. I didn't know but God knew about this day.

Within a few minutes Peace entered the room.
From that day on I never spoke again of what he had done to me. I had forgiven him completely. My mental obedience now matched my physical responses. I hugged him with care and treated him like a brother that had never offended me. And my children finally called him uncle.

However, if you have read any of my earlier blogs then you will know that this same brother today is in prison for rape.
The day that I found out that he had continued in his sexual abusive ways I can not even describe the shot of pain that went through my body like a lighting bolt aimed to pierce a hole in my heart. I bled a massive sea of tears. No amount of alcohol could drown out the pain BUT GOD... He has carried me thus far.

I don't understand what His plan in this is but I will continue to Trust in His goodness because His peace has been a shelter for me.

So, why do I feel compelled to share this shameful story in my life?
Because of the freedom my family truly needs. A freedom that begins with FORGIVENESS.

My new F-word.

Remembering daddy

Repost from an old blog 7/21/2012

He was daddy.

It has been a little over a week since I last saw my dad's handsome face and I never thought that I would miss him as much as I do today. I was so young when I was taken from him.

I try to never remember too much from my childhood but watching my daughter mourn the loss of her grandfather reminded me that there was once a time when I too mourned this very same man at her age.

I normally don't regret any decisions that I willingly make in my life but choosing to not reconnect sooner with my dad and not telling him sooner how I remembered our short time together is one decision I truly regret. Especially when he was always trying to reach out to me.
Still to his very end he was asking for me and I still did not go to him even after being told that he was dying. Somewhere inside of me I did not want to mourn him again and so I stayed away.

Ever since his passing I have asked God why this man was given to me as my first "dad" and what was his purpose in my life's journey. Why him?
He could have said "no" when his eldest daughter found me and brought me to his home. But he didn't. Instead he took me in and claimed me as his. He gave me his name. 
I never questioned his love for me because I saw it in his actions. I was his... then one day... he was gone.

As a child I cried for him at night and prayed that he would come and take me back home but I was told that he no longer wanted me and I couldn't understand why. I asked myself, as any child in my situation would ask, if I did something wrong. However, I never found an answer because I think (even as a child) deep inside I knew it had to have been a lie because he was never unkind or harsh with me. I was his. There wasn't a day that went by when he wouldn't show me affection. I was loved every day in his care.

We had our own special time after school together. He would stash candies for me under his pillow and I would come home from kindergarten with my milk carton and morning biscuit. We would have our exchange of goodies and stories followed by laughter and a warm embrace. He was daddy.

But years came and years went where he was nowhere in sight and in the heart of a child, the lies of rejection became more believable.

I was eventually forced to adapt to my new environment with my new "dad" & brother, new culture and new language. I was also reminded that I was disposable as most adopted children supposedly are. The changes were very quick. I instantly went from being daddy's princess to a servant.

As a child I did not understand what had happened and questions were not allowed. Kindness was also very bare in my new home and love was not allowed. I learned to keep in line and do as I was told. Making sure to keep silent. The happy childhood I had known was as gone as my dad.

When I saw my dad several years later he greeted me with tears and asked me if I remembered him and our snack exchange. I lied and said "no" because saying yes, for me, was just a stark reminder of a child that use to cry herself to sleep.

I later learned of how he sought me out but my mother was too powerful and by the time I was found it was too late. I was no longer a little girl with a tender heart and too many years had passed and too many things had happened. I didn't know what to do other than to move on with my life.

However, as he got more sick, I did tell myself that one day I would have the courage to reminisce with him so we could laugh together again. But my shame and fear of his disapproval always won out. I no longer knew how to trust anyone.
(To this very day my emotional walls are still blocking people off (including my husband & kids) BUT GOD IS WORKING ON BREAKING THE WALLS DOWN THROUGH THE BLOOD OF JESUS CHRIST.)

 Thank you, daddy, I'll never forget you!

An hour before my dad took his last breath I prayed in his ear and thanked him for claiming me as his own. I told him that he didn't have to take me in and he didn't have to give me his name but I think I knew why he did it... he was adopted just like me. So, I guess in a strange adopted way, we were always bonded.

I told him that I wish I was there at the hospital when he called out my name so that we could have talked when he was still able and in that moment I felt his hand on the back of my head. He heard me (reminding me of God's grace).
I then kissed him goodnight and told him to go walk with the One he believed and prayed to daily - Jesus.  

I have no doubt that my dad is walking with his Lord. He passed with peace on his face, in his own bed at home, surrounded by his family. Some would say that he had a smile on his face and I believe....he did. 

Until we meet again, daddy.

 

Walk LOVE out

1 of many more to come...

I don't believe that there is anything more damaging to a child than sexual abuse. To me, it's the epitome of evil.
For the past few months I've felt God's prompting to share the season I've been faced with again and I had 3 questions that I needed Him to answer and confirm that I was moving in His will and not my own:

1. Why now?
2. Why so public?
3. How?  

"I will walk at liberty,
For I seek Your precepts."~ Psalm 119:44

1. God, why now?

For me, this was my #1 question because 15 years ago I tried to stop this person but I literally got my ass handed back to me on a platter of shame and fear for going against the cultural, traditional, and familial norms.

Being shunned before, during, and after family events was a constant reminder to NEVER bring outside help in again. I did what I believed to be right and I was marked as wrong. From then on... nothing was the same. 

So, what has changed in 15 years? 

For me, I accepted Jesus as my Savior and His invitation for Him to show me why I was brought into this world the way I was. He invited me to know His purpose for me and although I refused His gift several times and tried to run away from Him like I was being chased down by a mass murder; I finally got tired and opened my hands to receive His gift. 

His gift has many levels of unwrapping and this season of unwrapping has been the absolute hardest. But I will trust that He knows what He is doing because He has shown Himself to be faithful as I step into obedience.

 "For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope."~ Jeremiah 29:11 

2. God, why so public?

 When I asked Him this question He simply responded back with questions. Over the past 6 months our conversations went a lot like this: Him: red and me: black:

• "Surina, do you think that your family is the only one this is happening to?" --No. 
• "Surina, do you believe that there is a sin so hidden, a darkness so evil, a pit so deep that I won't reach out for one of My own and give them a Way to KNOW Me?" --No.
• "Surina, do you believe that My grace is sufficient to save everyone involved?" --Yes!
• "Then, Surina, will you trust Me to do a great and mighty work in and through this?" --Yes.
•  Is there an easier way? "NO!"  

 "Father... nevertheless not my will, but Yours, be done.”~ Luke 22:42

3. God, how?

I've been trying to figure out since my last post how I was going to deliver this situation with God's grace and mercy because at the end of the day GOD'S LOVE MUST SUPERSEDE my personal hurts. 

The one thing that I have noticed about my commitment to follow Christ is that I don't know how He brings things around to be as beautiful as He does but; He faithfully does. 

The only answer that I received to this question was (like a Nike ad) just do it. Do what? "BLOG!"

So, there really is no other way to start the healing process then to just jump in and see what God does. My hope and prayer has been that God will set someone else free from the bondage of silence besides me as I walk to unlock doors and knock down walls. In Jesus Name!

 Trust in the Lord with all your heart, And lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He shall direct your paths."~ Proverbs 3:5-6