Captivating - Ch. 6

Yes, I'm struggling along - trying to keep up with myself... and losing the battle. I've read through Ch.8 so keep reading everyone!


Okay. We're still trudging through, when along comes Ch. 6 "Healing the Wound."

Let me tell you - I know all about this one! I'm a survivor, baby! Jesus has healed my broken heart - and broke my spirit further with His Grace. He took me from a world where I thought I had everything figured out, and ripped it all away until there was just me, and just Him - and I had to look at the core of who I really was, and finally ask Him who he wanted me to be.

You know how in the 23rd Psalm, people LOVE to proclaim the great power of God's healing and helpful touch. You can hear it in their voices when they're reciting it- but when they get to that part about the "valley of the shadow of death" is when you can see who among them has BEEN in the valley and has cried out to God "Why have you forsaken me?" - only to know that he is right there beside us - sometimes even carrying us- the whole way!!! This brokenness- this living in the wilderness off of the land, is Grace too!!

I had the opportunity to hear an incredible sermon on this very topic: "The Other Side of Grace." And for some of you, you may know exactly what I'm talking about. For others, the concept of God's wrath, anger, and pride about us may seem really foreign. I'm no prophetic speaker, so let me let you hear this same sermon. Take 20 minutes while you're folding laundry and just listen. http://www.valleydale.org/templates/cusvalleydalernd/details.asp?id=32803&PID=295764&Style=#Smith (then click on "The Other Side of Grace")

I've been really blessed that when I was in the Valley - God brought me friends to sit on the side of the road with me (like Job) and just be with me. I had so many opportunities for self-discovery and realized that with God I was truly happy like never ever before. But it's a daily walk with Him, not just those glorious mountaintop experiences. And that's why I'm grateful for the opportune with you sisters, in whatever wild media format we may find ourselves in. I get such great insight (and can commiserate) with your experiences and musings on your blogs, and I don't tell you enough.

And as much as I criticize this book for its colloquialisms, literary and theatrical references- there was one part that hit home in the middle of page 107:
There is a core part of our tender hearts that was made for Daddy. Made for his strong and tender love. That part is still there, and longing. Open it to Jesus and to your Father God. Ask Him to come and love you there. Meet you there. We've all tried so hard to find the fufillment of this love in other people, and it never, ever works. Let us give this treasure back to the One who can love us best.
Amen.

Captivating - Ch.5: Blah, Blah, Blah

This chapter talks all about the ill treatment of women through time and that continues throughout the world today. It poses the question: "Where does this hatred for women seen all over the world come from? Why is it so diabolical?

::aside::
di·a·bol·i·cal adj. Of, concerning, or characteristic of the devil; satanic. Appropriate to a devil, especially in degree of wickedness or cruelty. [From Middle English deabolik, from Old French diabolique, from Late Latin diabolicus, from Latin diabolus, devil. See devil.]

So the devil hates feminity?

Is that the point John & Stasi are trying to make in this chapter?

Ummm.... okay. Whatever.

Can't say that I have much more to say about this chapter. Blah... blah.... blah....

Captivating - Chapter 4

I’ve had my doubts about whether or not I should post this on my blog – but now that I’ve written it all down, I’m at peace with every event you’re about to read. It’s part of what makes me, me. And that is exactly who God wants me to be. Thanks for reading.

“How a father relates to his daughter has an enormous effect on her soul – for good or for evil.” -page 62,Captivating

Ever see a movie or hear a story that hits a little too close to home? Yeah. That was me and Chapter 4.

When I was almost 20, 2 years into my bachelor's degree in Education, I had to take 2 or three developmental and educational physchology classes one after another. Somewhere in that first class, I started have these memories of my childhood come back to me. (I believe "supressed" is the technical term.) And most of those memories had to do with my relationship to my dad.

I remember him being around as a kid. He worked long hours from what I was told, but I remember him fixing a swing set for us in the back yard – crawling up under the house to run telephone lines- going up in the attic to put up or pull down boxes or some other junk – him horsing around with the dogs in the back yard – holding the light for him while he worked on cars. Him always taking tub baths & watching MASH on his little 8 inch screen black & white TV while in the tub. He was a cop, a truck driver, a pawn shop worker, a janitor, a groundskeeper, a retail salesman (at Radio Shack, Auto Zone, Lowe’s), and worked in a warehouse. (And all that was before I was 18 or 20.)

But as we (I have two younger sisters) got older, he distanced himself from us. Almost like he didn’t know how to deal with or want to deal with these teen & pre-teenagers in his house. I do remember his distance. But I guess I associated that with his often working two jobs and the fatigue/stress he had from them. Other people told me how proud he was of me. It never came from the horse’s mouth – except when I got into National Honor Society in high school, and that was only though a smile and a flower arrangement. (And that’s a lot considering the nerd that I was – graduating 8th in my class of 206.) He tried to do a lot for me – but he was really never emotionally or financially able to do much. I somehow was the good kid out of the 3 of us girls – and tried so hard to do well, and please him. I wanted him to be proud of me. I was the helper – the volunteer. But always the contemplative one, as you can tell by my long entries about each chapter. (But you only see these kinds of things in hind-sight….)

What I had repressed were his 2 week stay in a mental institution, his suicide attempts (2 more since I’ve been an adult), his harsh words / accusations / behavior towards me (expecting academic perfection and high moral chastity), and an attempted sexual encounter when I was 15 that I had never told anyone about until I was almost 19 (to my then serious boyfriend).

I don’t think I ever even told my husband until sometime after our daughter was born. Somewhere in that crazy mess of post-partum hormones, it all came to the surface. He knew that my dad and I hadn’t always gotten along – that he was a stubborn man who didn’t have much to say about anything- but had no idea that my father had ever been so unkind and defiling towards me. I saw pure fear and hatred in my husband’s eyes that day. He was driven to protect our new daughter & me at all costs.

When my niece was born 8 years ago, I saw a side of my dad that I’d never seen before. He was SMILING!! (Mom has always called him “Old Stoney Face.”) And was playing with this sweet new life! He still loves that little girl, and I see the same love in his eyes as he delights in my daughter. My mom says that he was always that way with us when we were young…. I just wish I could find out what happened for that joy to wither and die.

Time heals all wounds… and dulls the initial shock and pain of life’s twists & turns. We learn to forgive, but it’s so hard to truly forget. If it’s God’s will for my dad to see my daughter grow and mature into the wonderful woman that I pray she will be, I would welcome the almost “second chance” to see how or why things change. Yeah, I know it’s different when they’re grandkids, but it’s worth a shot.

I am so blessed to see how my husband cherishes, celebrates and loves our little girl –and tells her, every single day. And I pray that one day I can hear my dad tell me that he loves me. But if I never do, I’ve always got my husband (who tells me “I love you” many times a day) and a loving Father in heaven who tells me “I love you,” with every breath I take.