I'm working on a non-fiction project called Bohemian Forgiveness: 5 Unconventional Paths to Forgiving What You'll Never Forget.
I have a literary agent. And submissions to publishing houses are underway. Meanwhile, a graphic designer is creating a collateral design that will feature 25 excerpts. This is a sample!
I'll keep you posted as we progress!
copyright 2018. Ame B. Design
"What I tell you in the dark, speak in the day light; what is whispered in your ear, proclaim from the roof-tops."
Picture the ladder that leads to your roof-top. How long would your ladder be if each step represented an unhealed wound? Now consider how HIGH your ladder would be if each step represented healing and victory over those same wounds? It's the difference between an overwhelming view as you stare up a long ladder and a breath taking view from victory's standpoint.
I'm currently living my blog topic.
I'm in deep at the moment, which leaves me feeling disoriented and fatigued. God's calling me to go back and grieve something from the past that has nothing to do with sexual abuse. I know the journey well. I know that my willingness to follow Him up yet another painful step, will grant me more freedom and enlarge my awareness of His faithful love for me; but still, it's not an easy climb.
I do what I must each day...I'm a wife and a mother, but then I grant myself an early bedtime and quickly become a little girl, reaching for the only Daddy who can make it better.
Here's the reality of my initial response to facing yet another painful season of my childhood:
I will be wise and abstain from alcohol during my season of grief expressed--a decision I made AFTER I drank a few beers with the wrong motive. I also bummed four cigarettes off of a friend. I'm one of those non-smokers who will smoke a few cigarettes once a year. (I prefer exercise to combat stress, but I'm nursing an injured foot and can't go to the gym).
I've switched to Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup with crackers, and a glass of milk (my childhood comfort food). My husband graciously did the grocery shopping the other day and brought home a few cans of soup with pasta in princess shapes: crowns, castles, and slippers. If I'm home, I'm wearing mismatched pajamas. I look forward to the moment when I find myself on yet another roof-top, proclaiming what He has whispered to me in the dark. Meanwhile, I'm so very grateful that I have people in my life who truly care for me and don't judge my initial responses to pain.
Question: Do you have someone in your life who will support you and not project their personal convictions onto you? Would you sit next to a hurting friend as she smokes a cigarette outside and cries, or would you wait for her inside; avoiding the smell of cigarette smoke and the possible judgement of being seen in such a scenario?
If you have been judged in the past for less than perfect responses to intense emotional pain, I want to personally tell you how sorry I am. If it were possible, I'd sit next to you while you smoked a cigarette or drank a beer; hoping that you would feel God reaching for you... through me.
Published on Friday, April 23, 2010 @ 11:25 AM CDT