from old blog January 27, 2008
Dear Jesus,
I know it's time to start this , but it is just so hard. I've known for a while now I'm supposed to do my testimony. I keep putting it off because everytime I try to think about it I just start crying. There is no way I can do this in one or two posts. There is just soooo much. So I'm asking you to help me with this, Jesus. I know I can't finish being healed until I do this so let's just do it. Part of my problem has been where do I start. So today I decided to start with my mom leaving us.
I remember that day so well. I was seven and old enough to know and remember some of the things going on during that time. So I saw it coming. My mother had left once before, but it didn't "stick". It only lasted a few days. There were things going on like when my dad would leave for work ... the whole day would change. Immediately everything we thought was in our day would be changed to being shuffled to sitters (or not), told to say this and that if my dad called, etc.
On this day my mom was acting real strange and she gathered us kids together and said she was going to take us to Mrs. *** for the day. And that we would probably spend the night. This was an old lady we visited occasionally. She lived on a lake. It wasn't something we normally did. We had never spent the night there. This is one of those times I look back on and know the Holy Spirit was guiding me. I'm the oldest child. I knew something wasn't right and then my mom wanted to take my youngest sister with her and that was when I realized she wasn't coming back. I started begging her not to take her. My other sister and brother did the same either because I was or because they were being led, too. None of them remember that day. Anyway, for at least half an hour we just kept hanging on to her begging her not to take my sister. My sister was two years old. (I find it amazing to realize we didn't beg her to stay ... but to leave my sister. Maybe it was because of the pretense she was coming back to get us the next day.) Finally she broke down and decided to leave my sister. That was the last time I saw my mom. (except once in 1980 after I found her).
So we all kind of knew but didn't voice it. I tried to comfort them but probably wasn't much good at it. I remember thinking it would be alright because dad would find us and we were all together. And he did.
After he got off work that night (he worked shift work) I have no idea how he found us, but he did. It was late when he got us home. I still remember how broken he was ... and there were four little kids to raise. That might be common now but it sure wasn't then. I can't even imagine how overwhelming it must have been for him. He told me if I helped him get dinner I could stay up after the kids went to bed and make a cake with him. When the kids went to bed we made a chocolate cake with white frosting. The cake fell all apart when we cut it ... but it was good. Neither one of us cried. I don't remember crying about it for many years. We just started to pick up the pieces.
Some of the things I remember about my mom before it all started ... her hands when she was hanging laundry outside were so pretty. She had beautiful hands and nails. Also, she sewed us clothes a lot and when we would have the first snow she would have us sit down and tear up newspapers into little pieces until she said there was enough and then send us outside to collect snow so she could make creme puffs. They were so good. It was years later before I really thought about it and realised she was just keeping us busy ... that snow and newspapers do not a creme puff make. lol! ... but it's still a good memory. And there are not a lot of them. In fact, I have very few memories of before she left. I don't question why ... I figure it is for my own good.
Other things about my mom are so sad. She was an only adopted child. My grandmother couldn't have children ... which was a shame ... she was great! But, if you knew my grandfather ... it's probably a good thing she couldn't. He wasn't mean to us kids or anything ... he was just such a nasty man. Filthy language, bigoted and prejudiced. I place no judgement on that. It simply was what it was. Anyway, we didn't learn much about how she was adopted until years later when the truth was told to me by my grandfather's sister after he passed away. So here's that story:
My grandfather got a young (15 years old) girl pregnant. She was referred to as one of the "hill" children. The youngest of 17 and from a dirt poor family up in the hills. My grandmother found out somehow and wanted to adopt the baby. The young girl delivered the baby in a gas station bathroom early and left her in the garbage can there. (nothing new under the sun is what the scriptures say ... it still happens) She called my grandma who came and got her. She weighed 3 pounds 5 ounces. My grandfather wanted nothing to do with her because she was a girl and not a boy. He was always mean to her. If you look at all her pictures growing up she never smiles unless there is an animal in them with her. Anyway, I can only speculate on how my grandmother convinced him to let her adopt her (probably had something to do with the law). My mother is a diagnosed schizophrenic. Is it really any wonder why. A mother who treasured and doted on her ... giving her the best upbringing ever .... and a grandfather the opposite. My mother has been married many times and was a severe alcoholic for years. When I saw her in 1980 she hadn't drank in some time ... I don't know if she ever picked it up again.
The only thing I could ever find out about my biological grandmother was that she died at age 34 of female cancer.
Anyway, that's the story of my mom and the day he left. I still love her very much. She couldn't help how messed up she was. I remember the good things and choose to forget the others. And really the others never touched us much. It was after she left when things got ugly for a few years. I was seven ... almost eight. I would never be the same again.
Looking back it was the first day of an entire life of taking care of people and putting me on the back burner. Until a few months ago I was still taking care of everyone else. There just has never been time for me to deal with the things in life that caused me pain. And trust me ... there has been A LOT. And with Jesus's help I'm going to get them all out in this blog and maybe the Lord will let me move forward and be useful to Him. At this moment I feel worthless, useless, and just plain like there is no need for me.
The Lord gave me confirmation today through my wonderful friend FireyAngel that this was indeed my time to mourn and grieve ... that I'm not just depressed. That this is my time to be washed free. Bless you, FireyAngel and bless you, Lord, for hearing my cries for help. I've been crying for about a month non-stop ... at first I thought it was from all the medical stuff I've been through since August. And then I was reminded of the scripture Jeremiah 30:17. I was in the hospital March 2005 with a pulse of 34 for three days when a friend of my daughter's in NYC I had never met called me and said she was to give me that scripture. Nothing has been the same since that day. Anyway, when I was reminded of that scripture is when I realized he was still working on the healing. And that's what the tears are about. Today I got the confirmation to that ... so today I start the journey of my testimony ... hold on to your seats, folks ... it's a doozy!
thank you, Jesus
I trust you, Jesu
bless you, Jesus
I love you, Jesus
for I am nothing if not for you
Dear Jesus,
I know it's time to start this , but it is just so hard. I've known for a while now I'm supposed to do my testimony. I keep putting it off because everytime I try to think about it I just start crying. There is no way I can do this in one or two posts. There is just soooo much. So I'm asking you to help me with this, Jesus. I know I can't finish being healed until I do this so let's just do it. Part of my problem has been where do I start. So today I decided to start with my mom leaving us.
I remember that day so well. I was seven and old enough to know and remember some of the things going on during that time. So I saw it coming. My mother had left once before, but it didn't "stick". It only lasted a few days. There were things going on like when my dad would leave for work ... the whole day would change. Immediately everything we thought was in our day would be changed to being shuffled to sitters (or not), told to say this and that if my dad called, etc.
On this day my mom was acting real strange and she gathered us kids together and said she was going to take us to Mrs. *** for the day. And that we would probably spend the night. This was an old lady we visited occasionally. She lived on a lake. It wasn't something we normally did. We had never spent the night there. This is one of those times I look back on and know the Holy Spirit was guiding me. I'm the oldest child. I knew something wasn't right and then my mom wanted to take my youngest sister with her and that was when I realized she wasn't coming back. I started begging her not to take her. My other sister and brother did the same either because I was or because they were being led, too. None of them remember that day. Anyway, for at least half an hour we just kept hanging on to her begging her not to take my sister. My sister was two years old. (I find it amazing to realize we didn't beg her to stay ... but to leave my sister. Maybe it was because of the pretense she was coming back to get us the next day.) Finally she broke down and decided to leave my sister. That was the last time I saw my mom. (except once in 1980 after I found her).
So we all kind of knew but didn't voice it. I tried to comfort them but probably wasn't much good at it. I remember thinking it would be alright because dad would find us and we were all together. And he did.
After he got off work that night (he worked shift work) I have no idea how he found us, but he did. It was late when he got us home. I still remember how broken he was ... and there were four little kids to raise. That might be common now but it sure wasn't then. I can't even imagine how overwhelming it must have been for him. He told me if I helped him get dinner I could stay up after the kids went to bed and make a cake with him. When the kids went to bed we made a chocolate cake with white frosting. The cake fell all apart when we cut it ... but it was good. Neither one of us cried. I don't remember crying about it for many years. We just started to pick up the pieces.
Some of the things I remember about my mom before it all started ... her hands when she was hanging laundry outside were so pretty. She had beautiful hands and nails. Also, she sewed us clothes a lot and when we would have the first snow she would have us sit down and tear up newspapers into little pieces until she said there was enough and then send us outside to collect snow so she could make creme puffs. They were so good. It was years later before I really thought about it and realised she was just keeping us busy ... that snow and newspapers do not a creme puff make. lol! ... but it's still a good memory. And there are not a lot of them. In fact, I have very few memories of before she left. I don't question why ... I figure it is for my own good.
Other things about my mom are so sad. She was an only adopted child. My grandmother couldn't have children ... which was a shame ... she was great! But, if you knew my grandfather ... it's probably a good thing she couldn't. He wasn't mean to us kids or anything ... he was just such a nasty man. Filthy language, bigoted and prejudiced. I place no judgement on that. It simply was what it was. Anyway, we didn't learn much about how she was adopted until years later when the truth was told to me by my grandfather's sister after he passed away. So here's that story:
My grandfather got a young (15 years old) girl pregnant. She was referred to as one of the "hill" children. The youngest of 17 and from a dirt poor family up in the hills. My grandmother found out somehow and wanted to adopt the baby. The young girl delivered the baby in a gas station bathroom early and left her in the garbage can there. (nothing new under the sun is what the scriptures say ... it still happens) She called my grandma who came and got her. She weighed 3 pounds 5 ounces. My grandfather wanted nothing to do with her because she was a girl and not a boy. He was always mean to her. If you look at all her pictures growing up she never smiles unless there is an animal in them with her. Anyway, I can only speculate on how my grandmother convinced him to let her adopt her (probably had something to do with the law). My mother is a diagnosed schizophrenic. Is it really any wonder why. A mother who treasured and doted on her ... giving her the best upbringing ever .... and a grandfather the opposite. My mother has been married many times and was a severe alcoholic for years. When I saw her in 1980 she hadn't drank in some time ... I don't know if she ever picked it up again.
The only thing I could ever find out about my biological grandmother was that she died at age 34 of female cancer.
Anyway, that's the story of my mom and the day he left. I still love her very much. She couldn't help how messed up she was. I remember the good things and choose to forget the others. And really the others never touched us much. It was after she left when things got ugly for a few years. I was seven ... almost eight. I would never be the same again.
Looking back it was the first day of an entire life of taking care of people and putting me on the back burner. Until a few months ago I was still taking care of everyone else. There just has never been time for me to deal with the things in life that caused me pain. And trust me ... there has been A LOT. And with Jesus's help I'm going to get them all out in this blog and maybe the Lord will let me move forward and be useful to Him. At this moment I feel worthless, useless, and just plain like there is no need for me.
The Lord gave me confirmation today through my wonderful friend FireyAngel that this was indeed my time to mourn and grieve ... that I'm not just depressed. That this is my time to be washed free. Bless you, FireyAngel and bless you, Lord, for hearing my cries for help. I've been crying for about a month non-stop ... at first I thought it was from all the medical stuff I've been through since August. And then I was reminded of the scripture Jeremiah 30:17. I was in the hospital March 2005 with a pulse of 34 for three days when a friend of my daughter's in NYC I had never met called me and said she was to give me that scripture. Nothing has been the same since that day. Anyway, when I was reminded of that scripture is when I realized he was still working on the healing. And that's what the tears are about. Today I got the confirmation to that ... so today I start the journey of my testimony ... hold on to your seats, folks ... it's a doozy!
thank you, Jesus
I trust you, Jesu
bless you, Jesus
I love you, Jesus
for I am nothing if not for you
