Tag Archive | abuse

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I’ll build an altar to praise Him….

Today I came across something I’d written years previous: “God is asking me to go back and get the pieces of myself that I abandoned as a young girl. They are pieces of my heart that were left behind because it was just too painful to bring them with me. But now as an adult God is asking me to bring them to the forefront again, to remember them, to bring them to Him, because now as an adult I need them to become the beauty that God created me to be from the beginning…. I need them because God wants to turn my ashes into beauty and He can only do that when I bring them to Him.”

As I look back on the path behind me, in my minds eye it’s as if I can see places along the way marked with an altar of stones…those places where I picked up the pieces of my heart that were lost, stolen or broken or simply never uncovered…and as I picked up each one, sometimes with deep pain and endless tears, other times with intense anger but always with an expectation and a hope, would I lay them at the feet of Jesus.

Small altars along the path of my life built with rough rocks and stones symbolizing memories, brokenness and pain that I needed to surrender, to lay down…those deep places of the heart and spirit that needed His healing touch…. these altars along the path marked my journey with the Lord.

Canadian musician and songwriter Steve Bell, whom I’ve had the privilege of seeing in concert, sings a song called: Here by the Water

Soft field of clover
Moon shining over the valley
Joining the song of the river
To the great giver of the great good

As it enfolds me
Somehow it holds me together
I realize I’ve been singing
Still it comes ringing
Clearer than clear

And here by the water
I’ll build an altar to praise Him
Out of the stones that I’ve found here
I’ll set them down here
Rough as they are
Knowing You can make them holy
Knowing You can make them holy
Knowing You can make them holy

I think how a yearning

Has kept on returning to move me
Down roads I’d never have chosen
Half the time frozen
Too numb to feel

I know it was stormy

I hope it was for me learning
Blood on the road wasn’t mine though
Someone that I know
Has walked here before

I came to the place in my life where no longer could I hide the stones that I’d been given: stones of abuse and rape, stones of abandonment and rejection. They were getting too heavy to carry so I would drop them but no longer could I step over them either.

The stones were not smooth but were jagged and rough, causing me to stumble along the path sometimes cutting my feet. As I looked back I also saw places along the trail stained with blood marking the path.

At the time, although I wasn’t sure how God could make my stones holy, deep down I knew He could, that He would.

How would He bring good out of evil, how could I sing, how could I praise Him….how could He, how would He heal me…and yet, I knew…that somehow, the God of all creation, the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End…would bring healing…I had a flicker of hope ignite deep in my spirit and I knew…I believed, and I hung onto HOPE!!

And I began to sing…as God took my bloodied and battered heart and begin to heal it, to mold it, to soften it…. I sang, and hand in hand together God and I walked this rough and uneven path.

This was certainly not the road I would have chosen as a young girl…but I am here today, alive, healing and still singing!! Why can I sing…because I know that I do not walk this road alone.

There were times along the path of healing that the stones were so sharp I felt like my heart was being ripped to shreds.

The trail is stained with my hurt, tears and grief.

But the blood on the path….the blood is not mine…it was shed for me, definitely, but is is mine, no….and the tears…well, they’re not all mine either…..

 And here by the water
I’ll build an altar to praise Him
Out of the stones that I’ve found here
I’ll set them down here
Rough as they are
Knowing You can make them holy
Knowing You can make them holy
Knowing You can make them holy

All the stones….rejection, abandonment, anger, fear, abuse, rape, self-pity, approval, addictions, striving…..today they are all holy….because I chose to lay them at the feet of Jesus and build an altar to praise Him, rough as they were….. so that He could take them from me, use them and make them holy.

And He has……



What To Do If A Child Reports Abuse

Here’s a text from another great site about child abuse:


You may feel overwhelmed and confused if a child begins talking to you about abuse. It is a difficult subject and hard to accept, and you might not know what to say. The best help you can provide is calm, unconditional support and reassurance. Let your actions speak for you if you are having trouble finding the words. Remember that it is a tremendous act of courage for children to come forward about abuse. They might have been told specifically not to tell, and may even feel that the abuse is normal. They might feel they are to blame for the abuse. The child is looking to you to provide support and help- don’t let him or her down.

Avoid denial and remain calm. A common reaction to news as unpleasant and shocking as child abuse is denial. However, if you display denial to a child, or show shock or disgust at what they are saying, the child may be afraid to continue and will shut down. As hard as it may be, remain as calm and reassuring as you can.

Don’t interrogate. Let the child explain to you in his/her own words what happened, but don’t interrogate the child or ask leading questions. This may confuse and fluster the child and make it harder for them to continue their story.

Reassure the child that they did nothing wrong. It takes a lot for a child to come forward about abuse. Reassure him or her that you take what is said seriously, and that it is not the child’s fault.

Reporting child abuse and neglect

Reporting child abuse seems so official. Many people are reluctant to get involved in other families’ lives. However, by reporting, you can make a tremendous difference in the life of a child and the child’s family, especially if you help stop the abuse early. Early identification and treatment can help mitigate the long-term effects of abuse. If the abuse is stopped and the child receives competent treatment, the abused child can begin to regain a sense of self-confidence and trust. Some parents may also benefit from support, parent training and anger management.

Reporting child abuse: Myths and Facts

  • I don’t want to interfere in some one else’s family. The effects of child abuse are lifelong, affecting future relationships, self esteem, and sadly putting even more children at risk of abuse as the cycle continues. Help break the cycle of child abuse.
  • What if I break up someone’s home? The priority in child protective services is keeping children in the home. A child abuse report does not mean a child is automatically removed from the home – unless the child is clearly in danger. Support such as parenting classes, anger management or other resources may be offered first to parents if safe for the child.
  • They will know it was me who called. Reporting is anonymousIn most states, you do not have to give your name when you report child abuse. The child abuser cannot find out who made the report of child abuse.
  • It won’t make a difference what I have to say. If you have a gut feeling that something is wrong, it is better to be safe than sorry. Even if you don’t see the whole picture, others may have noticed as well, and a pattern can help identify child abuse that might have otherwise slipped through the cracks.

Child Abuse Hotlines: Where to call to get help or report abuse

Continuing on with ambivalence….

Dr. Dan Allender again states that,” Intimacy begets longing, and longing is interpreted as sexual. Passion destroys; therefore, it must either be avoided or conquered.”
How very true is this statement, the wound deepens as shame and contempt continue their hellish cycle. I began as a young woman to develop a deep hatred of longing and so I learned to deaden my soul.  I could describe myself as a house with the lights on, but never at home. Never feeling alive within myself. Deadening my soul in order to survive, afraid of feeling anything too deeply. Disengaging myself from the wounds of my soul.

Again Dr. Allender says “ Ambivalence robs a person of the joy of being alive as a man or woman. And makes pleasure-any experience of enjoyment- highly suspect and dangerous.”
It would take me years before I could begin to enjoy being a woman and to let compliments whether from my husband or others to begin to penetrate the outer layer of protection that I had so firmly built in place.

When I was in my thirties I received from my friend, Sandi, a porcelain figurine of a little girl kneeling to pray. In her arms she held a teddy bear and surrounding her were tiny rosebuds. Her hair was done up in curls with rosebuds and daisies scattered through out. Her dress pink and frilly…. she was adorable and it played the tune “Jesus loves me”.
This little figurine portrayed to me the angelic appearance of what childhood should be, innocent, pure, and unblemished.
Along with the gift was a card that read, “If I could I would give you back the childhood innocence and the carefree happiness and unconditional love that was denied you but I can’t my friend. But I can give you this beautiful little girl. It’s from the little girl inside of me to the little girl inside of you. And as I give you this gift I send up a prayer that someday soon the little girl inside of you will allow the woman you’ve become to look at herself in the mirror and honestly love who she sees there, just as she knows her precious Jesus does.”

I thanked her in my usual soulless way. (by the way, after I began to heal Sandi and I talked about this as I felt true remorse for my lack of genuine response, I thank God that she saw through my walls and saw who Jesus saw).

Later after I went home I stood in front of a mirror. And as I looked at the woman in the mirror I knew that I didn’t love the woman I saw there. All I saw was the little girl who had been programmed to believe she was of no value.
I also saw at that time that my style of relating to people was like plastic fruit. The appearance was good and tasty, but something real, alive and nourishing was missing. I had learned to live without passion for anything or anyone, other than the drive to stay sufficiently in control. Because in truth, deep down I was afraid that my unseen, fragile core would come unglued if the deep realities were faced.

Receiving the gift and card made me take a long, honest look at myself. And for the first time in my life I opened the window to my soul and I began to grieve.

I will leave off here for now and continue later.