Archive for despair

The Dance Of Despair

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on October 19, 2018 by Her Broken Wing

 

The world goes by really fast while I am just stuck in a motionless trance. I expect others to dance my dance. And when they do not, I fall deeper into despair.

When I am depressed, I cannot see anything past my thick heartbroken goggles of sadness. I cannot see past my pain. My world is skewed through my own agony and not the reality of God’s beauty.

I am, though,  just the shadow on the wall. I am not light nor darkness. I vacillate between both worlds of good and bad. Feeling like I have fallen from grace and condemnation to hell.

Help me crawl out of this misery and the way the world has had its way with me.

May God shatter the glass from my goggles to help me see a reflection of His face, to bring serenity to my soul and to bring me to the light of this world.

Sobriety did not promise me serenity. Serenity is a place I must achieve on a daily basis minute by minute. It’s not a passive job either, I must be active in its goal.

As much as I lived and breathed my addiction, worrying about my next fix or drink, the same energy must be spent in my recovery.

But you are God alone.  All things through Him!  Phil 4:13

me

Noonday Demons

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on July 14, 2018 by Her Broken Wing

The disease of addictions steals, it robs and it destroys. It sucks any and all resemblance of life as we know it.

Andrew Solomon’s book Noonday Demons describes the absence of depression is vitality. I have strived most of my life for some sort of normalcy but due to the fact I have never had that (normal), I did not know what to look for or feel. I would not know if life was ordinary or not as my striving for life I had wished for would ever seem on some occasion—attainable.

But today, the Sun arose once again as it faithfully does every day. Its warmth and penetrating rays, however, could not reach me. My world goes cold.

Even my bones are cold. I shiver to stay warm still on the hottest day of the year.

The arid pain blurs my desire to move, to breathe—the involuntary muscles of my body are now an agonizing effort. My world goes cold.

As in Harry Potter’s Dementors – “it sucks out all the happy-all the good memories are gone…” such a life and her circumstances.
Days become weeks, weeks become months and eventually the months become years. My years pass by. I am saddened by the darkened area I live and its daily dance of the Sun’s silhouette as she comes in my room. The Sun teases me by the shadows on the wall. The Suns outline waltzes all around my room as the Sun creeps through the sky as if spying on me. It is some ritualistic ceremony. This is only a reminder of what I am missing in my world. The Sun’s ghosts I know are demons and they tease me.

Is this depression in the likeness of death? Or is this lower than death?

An escape from the reminders of child abuse, rape, murder all wrapped up into a cocoon that has failed to metamorphic into a new life. God talks about new life. (2 Corinthians 5:17) But I cannot shed the old me. The old life overwhelms me.

A leap of faith! For me it is much like diving into a pool that is void of water. Dried up faith?

No, not really.

I hold onto hope. Hope of not even tomorrow but just for today.
Hope that the specters on the wall become reminders of freedom from my walled off prison of my mind. A new birth? Maybe so. Maybe hope is the new birth spoken of, I do not know.

But my hope today is that I dance with the shadows on the wall.

(Written by me August 2014)

In Him

me

Sins Of The Mother

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on April 20, 2018 by Her Broken Wing

Our son graduates from college in two weeks. He will be a Registered  Nurse. (Well, actually after he passes boards.) I,too, am a Registered Nurse.

Unfortunately, I left nursing on less than admirable terms some years ago. I did go back to nursing briefly and it did nurture my soul. But because of  drugs…Eating disorders…and Rehab…as the memories  still haunt me, I fear for my son’s future.

When people find out his career choice, they say “following in your mom’s footsteps?” I cringe. I want to stand on a mountain top and yell out one of Madea’s favorite saying, “Hell. To. The. No’”

Somewhere at the end of my hospital career, I could feel my dignity leave my body, as if a spiritual experience was happening. My reputation had become tarnished. I know I had been a good nurse. I was kind, strong, smart… but…drugs had taken over my wretched body and mind. My weaknesses manifested itself and I was humbled by my insufficiency.

Talk is cheap in our town  everyone knows everything. “Did you hear…?” I would like to have a Mulligan (golf term for a do over.) in life. What would I do different, especially knowing how much I’ve hurt my children?

Why should our son suffer because of my indiscretions. My downfall came at both main hospitals so my biggest fear was that it would tarnish his chances for a future here in our town. I prayed not. He is smart, book smart, street smart and an uncanny wit. (This is what I am told). And he is beautiful. (That I know).

Last week, I found out both hospitals are trying to get him to come and work for them in ICU. Proud momma. So, he is choosing the one that he made an original commitment with. He felt an obligation. He is doing the right thing.  Regardless, this is his journey, his own walk where he has to succeed or fall, he’s on his own, he will skin his knees and get back up. His heavenly Father will always there to pick him up.

Remember, son you is kind, you is smart, you is important! You can do anything. (The movie Help)

living the supernatural

Connie

He Loves Me Not, He Loves Me

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on February 28, 2018 by Her Broken Wing

 

The woman said to Him, “Sir, You have nothing to draw [water] with, and the well is deep.”  JOHN 4:11

I have thought God to be off His rocker before, not being able to live up to my expectations? I still question Gods ultimate plan in my life, has he forgotten me? Why Lord have you forsaken me?

Will I ever get clean? Especially, after ten years of fighting alcohol and drugs plus my eight years sobriety? And even now I still struggle to live what Seems like a once vibrant women. A women filled with life, joy, and enthusiasm.

What do I do when Satan whispers, “you have nothing left?” “You have no bucket”? What happens when I reach my bottom again and again? What does my bottom look like? Despair? Very much so.

My friend in Alcoholics Anonymous says to be careful as even our bottoms have a trap door! Hell is a vacation compared to a bottom as an alcoholic and taking drugs. I’ve been through the DT’s. I can only imagine it has to be worse than Hell. I wanted to die or for sure thought I would. Where are you, Lord? Papa, do you still love me?

“Yes”, I hear in a whisper! (1 kings:12)

He loves me, He loves me not, He loves me…(John 3:16 For God so loved…)

My well runs deep but I have no bucket to draw with. I am the Woman at the well, caught up in village of gossip, given a second, third, fourth… chances.

I am the woman at the well…

He loves me…

Connie

Max Lucado in book God Came Near says, “Silently the Divine Surgeon reaches into his kit and pulled out the needle of faith and a thread of hope. In the shade of Jacob’s well He stitched her wounded soul back together. ‘There will come a day… ‘ He whispered. “

Parting of the Red Sea

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on February 24, 2018 by Her Broken Wing

Billy Graham
The Legend
(1918-2018)

Estimating he reached over 150 million people with the Word of Christ

I was a little girl when I first learned of Billy Graham and actually saw him in person. My (older than me but not by much) uncle grabbed me by the hand and took me down to the “altar”. We professed our faith, or he did. I didn’t know what to think of all of it. Today I look back and I am sad that I didn’t realize the huge privilege that had been given to me. I do now.

As I got older, my grandmother would have the TV turned to Billy Graham. I would sit with her but I did not know what was happening on TV. Those times, those moments with my grandma, a time in eternity, I look back and I am sad that I didn’t realize the huge privilege that had been given to me. I do now.

My grandma is gone. I can still hear her voice. I see her face in my dreams. As I do now, with my father. He ,too, is gone. Sometimes in my dreams, I can hear him say “Connie”only the way he could. Today though, I look back and I am sad that I didn’t realize the huge privilege they had in my life. I do now.

Life before addiction. I wished I could remember. I wish I could do  my Life over again, with my children, before the drugs stole (or weren’t removing from my memory) the precious things, the important things. I wished I had listened to my dad. “Connie, be careful…” I thought that will never happen to me. I was a cowboy thinking I could play with fire, one more… Today though, I look back and I am sad that I didn’t realize the huge privilege that had been given to me before drugs.  I do now.

Christ rescued me. I am sober today only because of Him. Prayers. Prayers face down. I was at my bottom and Jesus rescued me. He parted the Red Sea. Today, I look back and I am happy that I did realize the huge privilege that had been given to me. I did then, I do now.

Christ loved me then, He does now.

And we cry, Abba!

Strike Three

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on February 3, 2018 by Her Broken Wing

Somewhere in the fleeting seconds, he had to make a quick assessment of the situation. “Now,” he wonders. Does he swing at the ball? Or should he wait? (Psalm 46:10)

The game win is on his shoulders. The last play of the game.

He chooses not to wait and it is in the moments that follow, he knows. The swing. The miss. There was a reluctance in this challenge. I saw sorrow in his follow-through as he made what would be his final attempt.

The slight pause was his downfall. The lingering regret.

“Strike three.” The crowd goes crazy.

The sting. The pain as onlookers watch.

He walks slowly away from the base. He is conquered by the opposition.

He relived this play over and over in his head in the days that ensue. “What if I had …?”

What if?

I have asked the same question. “What if I had just…?” If I could just do this over I have often thought.

But it is in these failures, I am forced to climb off my platform of pride.

I have heard it said that sports builds character, but I think it reveals my character more than it builds it.

Someone in the game must lose that others may win.( 1 Peter 2:21-25)

And that is just what Jesus did.

 

Living the Supernatural

Connie

The Tainted Flower

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on March 12, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

This past weekend I went to visit my best friend. We go a long ways back, back to the days of nursing school. We were more acquaintances at that time but I knew who she was. I’m sure I hung out in the cool crowd and I probably talked to her on occasions. 🙂 After nursing school though, we worked close in proximity and became best of friends.

Over thirty years have passed with a lot of tears and laughter along the way. We have been there for each other through the good and the bad. She knows everything about me.

This past weekend was no different from any other. It was filled with surprises, reminiscing and laughter. We were sharing how she almost left me at a convenient store because she thought it was being robbed. She was literally pulling out of the store when I came out. I had to run and jump in her convertible as she was leaving the store. I have not let her live that one down.

Or the millions of times we have sung Stayin Alive by the Bee Gee’s totally out of tune. There was also the time we had people following us in the store saying, “This is the best day of my life” as they heard us saying it and because we were laughing so hard over our pig findings (she collects the little curly tail things—for whatever reason).

We are forever making memories and this weekend was no different. She had fixed dinner and fixed a great salad. I did all but lick the bowl. Now that I think of it, I might have. I asked her about the dressing and she said raspberry something…. I said, “No way, I hate raspberries.” So she went and got the bottle out of the refrigerator. She brought it out to where we were sitting in the living room floor. We were having a picnic. And there it was, “Raspberry Vinaigrette with …” “GOOD GOD.” I YELLED. It has poppy seeds in it. She sort of gave me this blank what-I’d-do-look and shrugged her shoulders. I was still yelling. “I’m going down. I’m going straight to poppy-seed hell. I’m busted. I’m… “I don’t know what all I said but I think I began talking in tongue. Her face was blank.

Finally, I said, “poppy seeds will give me a positive drug screen if I’m tested.” Then she started screaming. So we were both screaming. I grabbed my phone and started an engine search on my smart phone Google that was apparently smarter than me at the moment. But eventually I could say, thank goodness for Google. Yep, one bagel can give you a positive drug screen. I’m sure I ingested a bagel’s worth; after all, I licked the bowl.

So Iwas frantically calling every possible person I knew in the program. One said, don’t eat the poppy seeds. Well duh. By then, everyone was friggin freaking out. Yes, you’ll test positive.

The next 48 hours were hell. I waited for a phone call to go test, which never came. I don’t know how I was going to explain this.

So now my friend and I can remember the time she fed me an opium plant.

Love, Connie