Archive for Faith

Mirror Mirror On The Windshield

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on April 13, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

I ran into a “friend” the other day at the grand Ol’ Publix while I was listening to some Grand Ol’ Opry music playing in the background and trying to focus on my much-needed grocery shopping. Fate would have it of course as this would be the one time I chose not to wear make-up, looking my very worse. Why does this always happen? I Knew the minute I jumped into my car, I would look in the mirror to see how bad it really was!!

Anyway, I hadn’t talked to my friend since she tried to help me find a job. She must have felt bad because she tried to avoid me. Make-up or not, I was going to take her down approach her. I was curious to what had transpired since our last conversation.  Truth is I had been hurt. I would rather someone call me and tell me ‘no’, than not call me. It’s the not knowing that drives me crazy.

Today, she said she had been thinking about me and was still working on the Director of Nursing.  But as of now, the Director of Nursing was firm in her stance that she would not hire another “Impaired nurse.” When those two words rolled out of her mouth, they came with such might; it felt like an army of terrorists, they shot down every last humbled soldier in my body.

Humbled!   Humiliated! Stripped of my dignity…My identity had always been that I was a great nurse. And in a split second that changed. I became “damaged goods” because of a label, a disease—treatable if monitored like any other malady but at this point who cared.

Standing in front of my friend, speechless–“Impaired nurse”—echoed in my head!! I’m not sure I heard anything else she said. A visual before me of someone on crutches, bandaged up and quite retarded. Although I have been known to fit this description on occasions, I don’t think this is a true account of my disease …

Looking up the definition, this is what I came up with for I.N. (impaired nurse) — Impaired nurses are considered the victims of chemical substance abuse such as alcohol, narcotics, drugs or any other substances that support mood alteration. Notice the word “Victim.” Nowhere does it say moral defect, flaw in character, a criminal, or traitor to the profession.

The unspoken definition is we are fragile merchandise; tender spirits, high achievers and we are victims to a disease that just needs to be managed. Yes, some of us have committed crimes by diverting (someone who steals drugs from patients, pharmacies or other sources)drugs, or come to work intoxicated.  But guys, that is the drugs—the disease…having been clean now, I am appalled myself at things I used to do. I needed help. I need help. I will always need help.

I am learning through my experience the employer’s standpoint. They fear litigation which often makes it easier to not bother with saving a great nurse with many years of experience.

The current punitive system creates barriers to reporting and keeps impaired nurses from getting help. This is distressing. Sadly, if I knew what I know now, I would have definitely gone a different route. I have been persecuted for a crime of saying, “I need help.” The system in place is not a true “advocacy” program.

As I got back into my car and looked in the mirror (remember I had to check on my make-up situation or lack of) and it finally hit me, I was seeing where I had been and I don’t want to forget that. But it is time to move forward, shift gears, to drive and to change the course of my life, maybe I will find something even bigger.

Someday I hope to be able to change the world’s image of us—the impaired nurse, God willing.

For today, my saving grace to this new passage was and will be filtered through my Father’s hand for He is working this to His good…Romans 8:28

Today, I am a better person for it…

Li”e”bility

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on April 11, 2010 by Her Broken Wing


(Job 34:6)  “Although I am right, I am considered a liar; although I am guiltless, his arrow inflicts an incurable wound.’’

I still remember the haunting pain caused by a friend’s parent that became one of the many chisels which broke my spirit. I didn’t understand why it hurt so badly then. Today, that same pain has come back to life, 41 years later.

I was with my friend and his parents, we were listening to Three Dog Night on the radio when the song, Liar, came on; their dad said, “There is so&so, they are singing about you, /—ME in other words– /she’s a liar.” My friend’s dad wasn’t kidding around either. He looked through my soul like he knew something I didn’t. I subconsciously thought then how I would never forget that look.

At the moment he called me a liar, my world stopped. The pain was so severe, tears welled up in my eyes and I had to turn away, but I did what I learned early in my childhood years—laughed it off and made a joke of it.  I prayed the day would soon be over,  hurried home, and I told no one. Telling someone in my home, would only put my shame and embarrassment under a microscope. My parents would ask, “What did you do to cause this?”  It was always my fault. So, I went to my room and silently cried myself to sleep.

Fast forward some decades later, “She took those pills from her patient.” My world started spinning, and I was 9 years-old again, the same pain and embarrassment as a little girl. I wanted to run home and hide. I couldn’t laugh it off this time as not a soul was laughing. Everyone was looking at me, waiting for an answer.

“Well, did you?” My supervisors asked one more time.

The truth is—I did not take anyone’s drugs but I abused mine. So regardless–I was a liar. I learned fast that as a drug-addict, you are automatically considered a liar. They go hand in hand. Your credibility goes down the toilet. Because–we are!

How did my friend’s dad know as a little girl? … Why would the memory come flooding back in my mind like a damn breaking loose?

I was a liar.  (Jn 8:44)

I ran home, buried my head in my pillow and cried buckets—and there wasn’t facing any  dragons or demons for my children, I couldn’t be their hero, I had my own villains and I couldn’t seem to manage them.

In reality, I have lied to a lot of people through the years, especially my family. My spouse would ask me over the past year, “Are you taking drugs?” and I would look aghast, “Of course, not.”

Liar”—Three Dog Night– ran through my veins…cold, calculating, and numbing … I had come to a point that I could lie and no longer feel any remorse. That is a scary place to be.

You can plug in any disease here–drugs, alcohol, pornography, food, lying, anger, work, shopping and really anything that takes away your worship from God or causes you to lie or “fudge” the truth a “little”.

We are prisoners to our own cell. Locked away from the place where we think God will meet us.

So what happened?

One morning, I woke up and got out of bed. Just like every morning, I prayed but unlike every morning, I heard Gods whisper, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.” (Jn 8:32)

It was nothing I did, but everything He did…

As always, To Be Con’t

I Regret To Inform You

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on April 8, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

“Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:13b)

Another day came; and I just lie there in my room listening to the bustling of life continue on without me. I was too tired, too drugged. I couldn’t get out of the nightmarish cycle I was living. Not only did shame eat away at my soul but the prevailing emotion of regret. I had lived with such sorrow over my life passing me by. The life as I knew it could be.

We all have had serious regrets in our life time. But when we feel are responsible for our own destiny, it makes the pain worse. I remember as a child, how strong the emotion of regret could be. I recall how magnified my emotions were as child? Just like the time I was on a scavenger hunt and walked right by the prize only to have someone walk behind me and find the reward. How devastated I was.  I had tremendous regret, “If only I had looked closer…” As a child, the sting of regret could linger for a long time.

My pain the past ten years was no different. Maybe because I had been in the habit of numbing myself, I am just now able to experience feelings–good and bad!

Regret attached itself to my soul and has not easily let go.

The law of nature is clear; we cannot be in two places at one time. If I live in my regret, I cannot move forward. For a long time, I just didn’t get that. I would perch myself on my pretty little throne of self-righteousness (see my addiction was still in the closet) as I tried to fix whatever current issues were most pressing–usually determined by–what caused me the most pain! I dealt with this by sending out letters (or emails) to those that hurt me. Maybe if I could make them feel bad, they would feel bad enough to come to my place and beg forgiveness. After all, this (“this” being –anything and everything) wasn’t my fault. Or I would play the self-pity card game, come, sit at my table and I’ll serve us tea and cookies.  Soon, no one wanted to join in any “my reindeer games.” My friends and family had a life. I was on my own island… The Island of Shame and Regret.

In my loneliness, through my tears and whispers, I began to cry out– Father Almighty. It was because of my extreme brokenness and my nothingness that I finally knew what it meant to give it all to Him, but all I had left was a worn-out, broken and shattered resemblance of a shell of my life.

So I did.

Gave it all. Piece by piece…crumb by crumb. (Drugs and all)

That night, I slept.

I dreamed.

I woke.

I was released from the bondage of regret. The scales of shame covering my eyes fell so that I could see.  I finally understood—the scripture:

“I was blind and now I see.” (Jn 9:6-7)

In Search Of Me

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on April 5, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

I know I have talked a good bit about shame. But shame became the obsession in my life that kept me from freedom. It is one of the most powerful emotions known to mankind. It is a binding entity to our spirit that won’t let go. It is present in the healthiest of people.

So why is shame like a cancer that if not taken care of will grow and take over our soul? Because it comes from Satan. But he will present it in its pretty little package making it look like we deserve it. Sure I brought this on myself. I am the reason for all my troubles. This isn’t a disease. it is a character defect. I am a moral failure.

“I just can’t help you” may have been the most painful words I have ever heard. When I was coming forward to get help, most of my friends and family stepped up to the plate. But there were some very important people who did not. And those words “I just can’t help you” or even just the silence (which is sometimes worse) cut through my heart like a knife. I was left standing there bleeding. The pain was at times almost too great. When the words hit my soul, I bit my lip as if I could stop the tears but my eyes would fill with tears. My pain seeped through my eyes. And soon, I couldn’t stop the pain. I began to cry rivers. And then the ugly heaving chest thing began. Snorting, and all that stuff. It’s really ugly!

Why were those words so painful? They knew! Why does our exposed life revealed send us unraveling? Was I embarrassed, had my self-worth been challenged, yes but also my weaknesses had been exposed and put under a microscope. Were they saying, I’m not worth saving? Or she is one of those.  Tickets were free for those that wished to see the woman, who had fallen from grace. “Did you know that she…?”

Can you just imagine the pain? I sat alone for many days, wondering if life was worth it. I had reached true brokenness. I understood disparity in its pureness.

Shame had become a backdrop to my life now. I had been robbed of true happiness and joy. I had been robbed of the abundant life. (Jn 10:10)

Until one day I woke up and my hungry soul needed food. Searching for  morsels of life, I found something.  My facades were not working any way. God kept sending people and situations my way–so just maybe God did love me. Soon, I found a few more crumbs of God’s Word. And they tasted good. Those few bites increased my desire for more.

And my search began.

Her Broken Wing Princess

And The Rock Rolled Away

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on April 4, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

HAPPY EASTER...

The Daughter of the King

Pink Cloud Breeze

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on April 3, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

I sat in my own world, staring–staring out the window into my fantasy world. I am sure people knew. They could see it on my face. Remembering back to the look given by a particular lady as I sat on a park bench, it was worse than pity. She was experiencing a homeless man for the first time. She did not want to look; the repulsion of what she saw was too disturbing. But by the second look, third look, she began to caress a sense of abhorrence.  “Trash”–that is what she was envisioning. And soon, she scuffled off, all-too-quickly. Something of him reminded her –of her.

Now fast forward back to my own world, I gazed from the window, and I get that same look—except this time it consisted of loved ones and friends, not the lady on the street long ago. That look of disgust ran through me, reminding me of what I had become, homeless in a sense. I had fallen off my pink cloud of perfection, admiration and my sense of worth had been shattered.  Oh, friends stopped and lingered but not for long, I believe there was something within my own deep pain that exuded through my pores frightening people away.

Like the homeless man, I had family and friends throw a few coins at me. But it was the ones that brought me food (spiritual type), looked me in the eyes and said, “I love you” without ever opening their mouth, that gave me hope. The folks that reminded me I was a valuable human being inspired my life with a blind faith. And day after day, God reminded me through miracles in ordinary living of His tremendous love—agape love, a love that supersedes all love.

God had (and continues to do so) tended my worn-out, world-torn soul.  And in my deepest moment, Christ walked in, dressed in my ordinary moments to orchestrate the heavens to my every breath.

My codependent behavior had led me into an insatiable appetite to suppress all emotions good or bad, which now will become my badge of honor (Recovering Addict). Nonetheless, through my blind faith, I proudly display my emblem.

With my dependency to drugs, I could fly… that is until one day, the sky disappeared. I fell from my Pink Cloud (self-admiration).  Soon, I was grounded. My wings were clipped.

And only as of a few days ago can I say, I can fly…I just have to keep flapping (staying in tune with the Word of God)…

For now the sky …is in my horizon…but the view is different.

As I fly, I don’t know where I am going, but I know where I have been…and that is all I need.

Faith and Hope.

The Daughter of the King

I’ve Got An Itch

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on March 28, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

I haven’t been able to figure out why I feel a certain way lately. You ever have a disconcerting undercurrent that just keeps you on edge. It feels kind of like you need to say something but forgot what it was. You can’t let it go because it’s right there–always. I have been feeling this way for some time. But praises to God, I figured it out today. It’s like finding an itch and scratching the daylights out of it…. Ahhh

OK, maybe not quite that dramatic.

I tried to remember when it all started. I recollect it starting after I left work  (so abruptly and painfully) so that has been some time ago. I  felt like I had unfinished business.

What was it?

I remembered back to when I was a child (why do we always go back to the childhood stuff—amazing any of us made it out alive)…my mom opened the door and there I stood, dripping in blood — I had been beaten up. “Neighborhood boy” … I have a mouth now and I had a mouth back then. Apparently, he did not like being called a “sissy girl.” Never challenge the masculinity of the male species at any age. I think he was like ten at the time. I told my mom to go beat him up. I was hysterically trying to explain what happened. I might as well have said Aliens landed and replaced my brain. It wasn’t working. To my shock and dismay, she beat spanked the ever-living-bajezee’s out of me for getting in a fight. This would be the first of many of my heart wounding moments as I call them.

My heart eventually went into a long period of cardiac arrest of the spiritual kind. It would take a miracle to  bring it back to life.

By the grace of God, I grew into a young adult. I married. As you would expect, I married someone to fix the tribulations in my life (or so I thought). I did not know any better or any other life so I endured the pattern I had been accustomed to.

The message then…the message now

They did not fight for me

Something must be terribly wrong with me. Horribly wrong. Another kick to my already ceased heart beat.

And then my eyes saw and ears heard…

The thunder roll, lightening split the darkened skies and sleeping lions roar, as Jesus stood there at the door in His bloodied garment full of sin. His Father cried as His Son said…“I fought for them, Dad”

And my ceased heart began to beat… through CPR (Christ Partakes of my Ransom)

His Dad said, “Now bring them Home, Son.”

His Daughter

Homeless Soul

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on March 26, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

Some time ago, I lost my job. When I went to my Superior to let him know that I would need some time off here and there to attend doctor’s appointments, he said, “Sure, whatever I can do to help.” Life was just hunky-dory.

A few days later my boss called me into his office, “Well, you are going to need to resign or I will terminate you. Sorry, but it’s the Human Resources Department.” Never once looking me in the eyes.

In a matter of seconds, I went from having a great job, to unemployed. He did not wish to help me find another job in another area of the building either.”I’m sorry there are no other jobs available.”(Knowing there were several other positions open) What he meant was there are no jobs for people like you.

I was now job poor.

“Oh by the way, I have reported you to the Board of Nursing.” Shock and disbelief, poor and deserted, betrayed and distraught, I was too stunned at that moment to say much. I don’t remember uttering more than a few words as I walked out the door before I began to sob. I bit my lip in two and prayed I could get out the door before I started to cry or my lip started to bleed, “Please God do not let me cry.” When I crossed the threshold of the door on my way out, I lost it. My cry was foreign; my chest started to heave and a rumbling came from deep within my soul. All those years of being drugged, I had numbed myself to any sentiment.  It was now a tornado of emotions. Spitting out anew one  every few seconds, I remember tremendous pain.

I was considered “Damaged goods.” And the weeks that followed, that was all I could think of.  My goods began to produce stinky bitterness, raging anger, whirling confusion, and extreme loneliness leaving me vacant and spiritually deprived. I was a homeless soul impoverished in my deepest shame.

I eventually walked into a place of unfamiliarity requiring my total faith. However, in my case it was really lack of faith, I just didn’t have a choice. I had been mandated into the situation (that I had brought on myself by a disease bigger than me), or more like pushed off the Grand Canyon. From the Abyss I had fallen into, where I have finally began to see the Light …

A Bankrupt life is like a baby learning to live life all over again. My life– in this case– needed all the fundamentals. I needed love and acceptance. I had lost the basics of living along with the financial stability. Even Jesus fed the multitudes before He began to talk. He met the people right where they were.  And Jesus was here today to feed me just as He did then, this time through His written Word.

My journey is still in progress but I can say that my poverty has brought me to utter nothingness and helplessness.

If I had known that poverty had meant this much freedom, I would have sought destitution long time ago.

Truly I believe that I am blessed bountifully in the scarcity of my brokenness.

Where I am made ready for the Groom…For Jesus

His Daughter…

The Chosen

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on March 20, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

The Chosen

I was chosen to bear a “burden” of tremendous affliction. “How long must we walk this road”, I asked God?   And I believe I heard Him say, “Until your flesh is broken, when you are exposed to the raw nature of human purity. And there will be nothing left but you and Me.”

I have prayed for years to become intimately involved with God so that I would breathe His every breath. I dreamt that I would be a halo of light begging others onto me, pleading for a drink. In my arrogance, I would deliberate those worthy of my offering.   But somewhere the channels of reality were switched, and my life landed on a never-ending science fiction nightmare.  I mean, who would want this crap-of-a- life? Who would want to go through an experience such as this—living every second of life trying to figure out how to get “High”?

No one; and it is in that belief that I believe people–run. I don’t know if they consider addiction to be contagious or they fear their own weaknesses.

I wanted to be someone. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to stand out. Well, I made it. I definitely stand out now. “Have you heard about ___?”

So what’s next?

I like to hold onto the whole “I am going to help someone else” premise, and just maybe I will!! But I imagine it will be a byproduct of my journey, not the original intention. I think it will be much more than the superficial appearance of a great ministry. This brings me back to the belief that I was Chosen, chosen to become so profoundly enmeshed with the deepness of –God’s love and mercy.

I am more than honored to have been chosen for this journey, for not everyone could withstand the humility that reaches deep into the very core of a being. Exposing me for who I am.

Now– I am stripped of pride, stripped of arrogance, stripped of “I am better than anyone else” and stripped of my holier-than-thou attitude.  Oh yes, I was stripped down to my flesh of newness like that of a baby. Now I too will learn how to walk, talk and live again.

I have been given a second chance. I am one of the lucky ones. I get to start my life over and live a new life. (2 Corinthians 5:17)

I will soon meet myself. And I will ask…

Who am I?

I am Chosen.

The Illusion of Time

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on March 16, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

I have always been a fairly over sensitive person, overly being the key word. You would think with the tragic events throughout my life, I would have built an emotional callus. But this is not the case. It is like having been burned and now living with a painful, touchy scar.

I found myself getting upset over the smallest of reasons. If  ever I called family or friend and they did not have time for me, or “Can I call you right back?”, I would hang up and cry. It was the whole self-worth junk, I came to realize. Obviously I am not important enough for “you” to drop what you are doing and talk to me.

I learned that taking one of  my “Migraine pills” soon became my solution to this pain.  It became my “Social Vaccine,” making me immune to the pain caused by those obviously lurking around the corner to purposefully make my life miserable!

In the beginning of time, every pill I took, I justified. I am sure I had a headache. I am a nurse after all, I would not want to take something without having a need. I had yet to become overwhelmed with shame and guilt— that came much later.

Migraines, that is what started this whole down-spiral.

Ten years of treatment for “Migraines.

Ten years of drugs.

Ten years of my family’s life.

Ten years of my life.

Gone.

Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”