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.