Monthly Archives: July 2013

A Petty Moment (In a Good Way!)


You know those times when you Keep running into the same thing repeatedly, and it finally dawns on you, it’s for a reason? The last 2 days I’ve turned on the radio to the rock station, walked into stores, and had my son put  the cd on (without me mentioning it), and what song do I keep hearing? Tom Petty’s “Refugee”. 

Mr Petty sings a line I’ve heard many times in my life, as this is a popular song. But the line hit me today. “Everybody has to fight to be free”

Everybody has to fight to be free. 

The timing of this is interesting to me, you see, because earlier this year when I was darkly suicidal and in a very very bad place a friend very suddenly said something that was the second hardest 2×4 upside my head I’ve received in my life. He said, “Tina, you are in exile”. Now, he was speaking of a certain situation that only he knew of, and he was oh-so-right, but good Lord it was just as momentous as that other sudden “explanation-of-your-life” moment, because it filled in the rest of the blanks, just as suddenly, on the rest of my life also.  To steal a phrase from a dear dear friend, it was a “holy shit batman!” moment. 

I need to chew on this for a bit. Everybody has to fight to be free. The last 4 yrs, well really the last 8, have been just that. It is hard to NOT live like a refugee when you ARE one, but then that wasn’t the line that slapped me upside the head. It feels like the fight is changing a bit now though, shifting. I haven’t gotten a grip yet on how and where, but I sense it. Jesus, come…

Categories: Uncategorized | Leave a comment

On Death and Birth


Tonight I’m feeling like rambling a bit, so consider yourselves forewarned *smile*

I have felt very much, for the past few months, like I am in a time of death. I have tried to ignore it, tried to avoid it, yet it persists, and in this space of time off I have had the past few weeks, I have finally allowed myself to think on it some. To let it sink in, and slowly try to process it. In looking for a photo to match this today, I came across a quote that rang true: “Death is Birth in disguise”


Yes, I have believed that really, for some time. I just never heard it put so succinctly. I wish there had been a name to credit, as it deserves crediting. As a Follower of Jesus, and a fan of JRR Tolkien, I *do* believe that death is simply a door. True, a scary door and one I don’t really want to think much about although it’s been on my mind more…something to do with hitting the 40’s a few years back, I am guessing. But that is applied, has been applied, in my mind, to “physical death”.

I hadn’t processed it as also being about the death of things in our lives. Those losses we endure stoically, or on occasion throw ourselves on the floor and sob about. That friendship knifed in the back by someone else’s lie, that job loss, that dream career loss, the loss (death, at the time) of any dream.

There are a variety of areas in my life currently to apply this too. This one, being a woman, is scary and painful and yet I am eager to “let it pass”–the house I am living in. It has not been a good situation. But it started off with some promise, with whispers of hope of stepping into what I was made for.

Then things began going downhill, like a cancer spreading and sucking the life out. And now the life here is gone, and I can’t wait to be. Even if it means going back to an apartment for a year to gather what wits I have and find my feet, yet again. Though I am praying for a house, not an apartment. I don’t do apartments well.

I am an analyzer, my scientific side can’t help it. But I can tell I am analyzing in too many ways, or trying too. “Why?” has a hundred answers here, I’m sure. Some I know. Some were my own mistakes, particularly taking someone at their word, on the proverbial handshake, who turned out to be a cheat and a liar. Why did I miss that said person was though…usually I see better than that. I think. Why have I had so many people telling me I cannot do this farming thing, or this using the horses with abuse and trauma and PTSD victims thing, that I’ll lose my ass (pardon) if I try? I’m losing my ass anyhow, thankyouverymuch. If I’m going to lose it, I’d just as soon lose it doing something I love, vs something I really am abhorring more and more with each day. Don’t get me wrong, being a nanny is a good, honorable job. It’s not what I was made for, and each day that passes I KNOW that deeper and deeper. So I grasp at other straws that might keep me afloat “in the meantime” and I start to read that “mean time” as this feels like a very MEAN time in my life. Each horse that I put on a trailer to go, that was never meant to leave, is a death. I look to pack and wonder where I will be landing, as there are no prospects and things don’t look too good for their being any. And Spirit whispers, “Let it go”. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I ask, “let WHAT go?” Sometimes He answers, more often that not though, He doesn’t…yet. There is a sense of “you will know, when you need to know” and so I sigh and carry on. And wonder, often, if I will ever know who I am, who He meant me to be, what I am here for.

I can’t believe it is what life has been, or has become again.

Jesus, come.

Categories: Faith and Wrestling, Goals and Desires, Healing & Growing, Horses | Leave a comment

Sometimes the Storms Seem All-Engulfing


That’s what life is feeling like lately.

It’s sort of interesting, because it’s not like anything about the past 40 yrs has been easy. Oh, moments come, of course, and thank the Lord, or there would be no getting through. Yet I’ve had difficulty, if I am honest, seeing them this past couple of weeks.

Abuse is horrific. It binds up the soul and will and hope, it blinds and ties and lies out both sides of it’s mouth. It partners with Depression and Despair, Suicide and Hopelessness, and tells you, loudly, that you are worth “no more than this”. Abuse has been my constant companion for way waaaaaaaaayyyyyyyy too many years, even after running from it on multiple occasions. It seems to believe it has a right to me, to my children, to humanity as a whole and laughs while frothing with the blood of way too many human victims over way too many years. And we play along, so often, being hands and feet and mouth of the monster to each other.

Call me an idealist, but it has to stop.

This week, I had to take steps, scary steps, to stop the monster as it attempted to ambush and eat my youngest…then I find out it’s been ambushing, and silencing with the oh-so-common lies of “no one will believe you” and “it’s your fault, you know” my children from telling of what has happened.

This week, they talked. And I am oh-so-Proud, with a Capital “P”, of them. The storm is rolling in, but we are hardy, sturdy folk, and we will stand. And the dust will settle, and they will know they are worth fighting for.

Lord Jesus, come.

Categories: Faith and Wrestling, Healing & Growing | 4 Comments

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