A Daughter’s Dream, A Mother’s Prayer

Prayer

Something changed in me the day I stood in the sterile cold surroundings of the trauma unit with a bright light shining on my daughter.  To be honest, something changed in all of us. Trauma changes things, good and bad. It’s ripple effects are far-reaching.

My heart cried wordless groans for nearly two hours, the longest two hours of my life. I will never forget the joy I felt when she finally opened her eyes and spoke clearly for a cup of water. I was thirsty too, but it was a desperate thirst for prayer, hope, and healing.

What made me feel absolutely powerless, pointed me to the absolute greatest power.  

When I knew I had no control, I leaned heavily on the One who Is in control.  

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Looking for a sign to keep going?

All along my journey, there have been times where I simply wanted to quit and give up.

I have balled up my fists and with clenched teeth sputtered, “What is the point?”

It often happens when I am in position to do the next thing, and right before I move to take the next step, a strong wind of defeat and disillusionment will blow in and send me reeling in doubt.

Have you ever been there?

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Unexpected Healing in Sharing My Story

What if what you said you’d never do ended up opening the doors to healing, light, truth, and freedom?

Freedom

I was headed to my very first counseling session in an absolute panic because I didn’t even want to answer the pre-counseling questions to explain why I was seeking counseling in the first place. I did not want to talk. I walked into her room and sat at the far end of the couch, with my hands fidgeting in my lap and my head down. I was so afraid, I was numb. I am not sure if I was visibly shaking, but I was shaking all over inside.

I told her I needed to be sure it was safe and that everything would be kept confidential. I let her know that I needed to heal as quickly as possible, and I would never want anyone else to know. I never planned to tell my husband or anyone else for that matter that I had been sexually abused as a child.

But God.

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It was not my fault (For those struggling with blame and shame.)

It was not your fault.Recently I bought my daughter a little red bag to use as a makeup bag in the future.

This morning when I saw the bag, I thought it could serve another purpose. I could fill it with feminine products for her so she will have what she needs when the time comes. I wanted to make sure she was ready and prepared. It sounded like such a great idea, until big crocodile tears rolled down my cheeks as I was applying mascara…

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