Archive for Hope

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Praising in the Hallway

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on April 11, 2023 by Her Broken Wing

Psalm 130.5 “ I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope.”

My dear friend and mentor called me yesterday and we were talking about where God has us. Some frustration on both ends. We said I guess God has us both in the hallway. 

As a woman having a baby, the doctor say’s don’t push! But the urge is strong and she wishes to push. Same as waiting in the hallway, we want to open the door before it is time. Same as it will be premature and there is a reason not to have an untimely opening of a door. 

What does all this mean?

Why hallways? Why must I wait on God’s timing?

God has a way of managing our life when we hold onto the hem of His garment. 

A hallway is temporary not a place to stay. Especially, when I see a door ajar. 

There are hallways in everything  such as Homes, offices, churches, even life….

 Hallways help protect us. Such as life. 

Hallways can be a hope of things to come. Hold on, friend. You will not be in the hallway forever. Your time will come. God is about to open a door no man can shut. Savor our time in the hallway, for the next phase maybe good, not so good or indifferent. But know It will bring us closer to Him. 

What have we learned in the hallway of life?

Waiting is not a sign of laziness. Nor has God left us. Are we ready for what is behind the door? Is God developing and maturing us to be ready for our next journey?

In waiting we learn, to “be still and know God” Psalm 46:10

Until God opens the next door, praise Him in the hallway.

Blessings

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So Dark but So Good

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on April 8, 2023 by Her Broken Wing

1Peter “ He himself bore our sins” in His body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness;” by His wounds we are healed”.

Jesus endured the cross on Good Friday, knowing it lead to His resurrection, our salvation, and the beginning of God’s reign of righteousness and peace.

Good Friday marked the day when wrath and mercy met at the cross. That is why Good Friday is so dark and so good.”

The rain falls on the righteous and the unrighteous.

.Am I a wilderness Christian that will never experience the promise land? What is my fear of pursuing the land of milk and honey? Do I feel obligated or true passion?

What about this new generation Christian? Will they ever understand a Promise Land Christian?

Do I know the extent to which Jesus sacrificed Himself? How he died? That his death was historically one of the cruelest most tortured deaths a human could face. Do we know that? Our minds can’t mentally think of this cruelty because it isn’t normal. Why didn’t Jesus stop this? Because that was His purpose! He came to die that we may live…. It was cruel, bloody and nasty.

I spent 40 years in the desert before I finally made it to the land of milk and honey. Sadly, I didn’t know or maybe I chose to ignore God’s love then and now. I vacillate some days based on how life is going. How I am handling life. How life is handling me.

My resurrection came during a time of brokenness. In a dark time of fear, hurt and immense pain,The lose of a friend through death. Through hurt and. Through a season.

Will I step back into the wilderness or choose the promise land? Will Jesus’ death be in vain? Am I victorious or am I a victim?

And now I sit in silence waiting for that glorious resurrection!

Connie

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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

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The Storm Dancer

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on January 31, 2018 by Her Broken Wing

THE STORM DANCER

Storms.

Storms of life.

These storms can cause devastating consequences. Many of these storms are of our own making. Intensity rules and angers flare. After the thunder, there is rain. I see the torrential downpours. And as the rain begins to fade, the sweet-scented smell of rain fill my senses. I can smell the rain. Time passes and surpasses my understanding of what has been and what is to be. Soon, the rain trickles as if playing to the tune of Mozart and I am mesmerized by its tranquilizing effect. I hear the Song that my Heavenly Father is singing to me.

My senses are alive. I can feel.

I breathe—slowly.

 

I awaken—soon thereafter to a silent world around me after the rain has long stopped. It would take some time before I really would grasp all of the unfolding events of the storm.

The person I had been had died, she had left during the storm—tragically. The death of self was an explosive aftermath. The realization of truth was as explosive as a volcanic eruption from a Volcano that had slept for thousands of years. The pressure was phenomenal.

Good,

Bad,

And just indifferent at times.

Mindful—from a long rainy night, I mused over the details.

I prayed.

Morning came and the Sun peeked in through the window. It was timid and reluctant to reveal itself to me as if one more change might cease my beating heart.

The pain was gone—not that I was ok with my life’s happenings but it was better than it had been in a very long time. I was free. I could breathe.  Psalm 30:5

Would I become another Storm Dancer? Will I rejoice in this new birth?

I will dance in reminiscence of the storm.

I will become the Storm Dancer.

…for I am His beloved child

Living the Supernatural

Connie

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Tentacles of Hope

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

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The image was engraved forever into my mind when I woke up in ICU from a suicide failure, something that would forever haunt me.

I’m so sorry to those I hurt. but at the time I meant to die. I’m glad God spared my life, as I was already unconscious when they (my husband and police)  got to me. I had really believed, and thought I would die. I could only imagine the horror of my husbands face when he found me.

I had been so sick for so long. I was untreated for the following; anxiety, severe depression, mania, yep bipolar, I had drug and alcohol abuse for 10 years, later PTSD (I started having nightmares, screaming every night and my husband had to console me to a safe position) And rIght, of course, my eating disorder  (bulimia, anorexia) and dissociative (which started at age 5 after a severe trauma). Now it’s on rare occasions. Yikes, there is more but I’m sure I’ve outworn my welcome here.  For now…

In 2010, I went into drug rehab. I did not realize  what was ahead of me otherwise I would have hauled ass but I had a sick mind. And that I was being groomed by this creep man, this so-called Doctor. In 2012, I was sexually assaulted by this man who took an oath, “Do no harm.”

Over the next year I started losing weight like crazy. My eating disorder had exacerbated.

Looking at pictures, I looked horrible, I had people ask me if I was sick instead of  I was smokin hot! I asked to go into treatment but the doctor just said, “you are too old.” I was like 50!

Whatever age, whatever sex, I believed we all deserve treatment. My nursing board sure thought so as I had been approached by the nursing board. You don’t want that, trust me? Then I had no choice, no voice.  I wasn’t too old, there were women older than me in rehab which only as angered me. I wasted precious time damaging my body.

My mind was killing my body. I was a deserted shell.

The octopus has his arms. (There are 8, like duh). You get rid of one arm (well you can do the math), calling my name into their world.A black abyss, bottom feeders.  So bipolar is a disease, not much I can do about mental illness except do the work to stay as normal as possible. Whatever that is? Treatment for me includes medicine and it has taken years to find the right mix. A good counselor someone I could trust. psychiatrists to prescribe your meds. And a 12 step program.. prayer and meditation ( that isn’t crazier than me), a sponsor, someone in the program that I can talk to. And the most important thing is i need God. If you are atheist, you need God too.  This is my cocktail for surviving mental illness and addictions.

The shame and guilt which can be crippling at times, I  was able to share my experiences for the first time and because of my illnesses, after I sought treatment , treatment, treatment and drugs like antidepressants etc., I was able to get back on my feet.

For me, when I got sober, I was on the 12 step or AA pink cloud. I floated. All was well. And when the sexual assault happened. This is when I plummeted. I crashed

I went from one arm of the octopus to another  arm of the octopus. I was vulnerable (James 1:2-3), I had not put my faith in God’s way, my shield of armor. And my ED went nuts in 2013 where I spent a total of 3+ months in rehab.

What was the image I mentioned that had been engraved  into my mind forever when I woke up in ICU, I will never forget my children’s faces with tears streaming down their cheeks. That image still haunts me.

As does my own experience as a child, My parents attempts and my granddads successful suicide, It left me with  scars that were deep within my soul. I am still angry. I have had extensive counseling, therapy and many other things but mostly Prayer on my knees kind of praying.

The crash  was pivotal in my healing of a very traumatic life, childhood trauma, etc.  Oh, I do have to work at it. AA, sponsors (a 12- steps),engaging with others,the hardest for me was changing playmates and playgrounds. And most importantly a higher power which I call God!  I was blessed with the best of friends, all in the program so they get it! But My family rocks! They have stood with me in spite of me!

How good is that?

Blessings

 

disclaimer: This blog is my experience. Take what you can use, leave the rest. Respect me and others or I’ll send the monkeys. Connie Barris and may not be used, reprinted, or published without my written consent.

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Who Would Have Thought?

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on May 16, 2014 by Her Broken Wing

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It’s been 4 1/2 years now… I have been through hell and back… the funny thing is, I remember saying, “if I just get clean…” I thought to myself, life would be easy peasy… boy was I wrong. that was the easy part… life has been hard … finding out why I did (do) what I do. Going back in time and undoing the hard stuff that has happened in my life. What is the saying, “Life isn’t for sissy’s?” yea I get that now.

So, through my constant battle of staying sober, clean, and battling an eating disorder … I am proud no grateful to say, I am clean, sober … and here and now working with those with the same afflictions. I am using my nursing degree to work in the mental health field.

I have spent the last 3 years working in an area I was pretty much miserable in. But saying that, grateful for that opportunity to learn something and meet new people. Yes, through all this, I am learning gratitude.

I had pretty much came to the point I needed to move on but didn’t know how. So… God did for me what I could not do for myself. Oh yes, I had moments of uncertainty, insecurity, worry and all that. But I surrendered it all and God just showed up… amazingly. As HE ALWAYS DOES…

I would like to say life is perfect now… It is not. I am going through a lot as we speak. But I trust God has my back. so I will not look back… Only forward to the goal ahead. (Phill 3:14)

So… who would have thought… today, I’d be here….and you’d be here..

Much love, Connie

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Survival Of The Not-so Fittest

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on March 27, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

So… the Earth didn’t open up and swallow me during my 5th step, like I imagined it would for so long. I put this step off for two years. I procrastinated to the point it was beyond ridiculous. I mean who wants to air their dirty laundry to God (as if He didn’t already know) and another person –not me.

I kept thinking I was “terminally unique”. I thought that no one had experienced the life I had. I had to be the worst person in the world. How special of me. Really, how self-righteous I had become. Self-centered. Self.

Two years (really longer) clean and in my program and I was still two-steppin it.. Which means I was hanging out on the concept my life was unmanageable but didn’t want to move forward into the other 10 steps…I was in my comfort zone and no one expected anything of me here.  I think there was a reason they called it a 12 step program.

I even thought if I stay in the first few steps, no one would expect me to sponsor them. No expectations. When the program clearly states, to help me stay sober I must help another addict / alcoholic. Hmm!

But it was like a cocoon in her shell too long, she would wither and die or must break out and fly. And the time came, I had to do something. There was a tremendous unrest within my soul. Thus, my 4th step was born. After the 5th step of sharing, came her afterbirth.

It wasn’t bad. As a matter of fact, it was cathartic. I felt like I had been cleansed in the fountain of youth. Freed from bondage.

I had endured once again.

I am a survivor.

Love,

Connie

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The Angel Tears

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on February 14, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

We are all recovering from something whether it is abuse of food, booze or just being a jerk. The difference in all of us is we are either “recovering” or active in our addiction? One thing for sure, we are all the same and all in this together.

So Dear Hope,

I have been in your shoes not too long ago. I woke up swearing I would never do this again and meant it. I have cried, screamed and begged to die with the realization that my life as I once knew it, was over. I have slid out of bed and ran to the bathroom to throw up one more time, crawled into the shower and hung my head low as shame wreaked through my mind, body and soul.

Sick from withdrawing, panicked from wondering where my next fix would come and confused about how I came to this place, I knew I was at my rock bottom. Praise God, there was nowhere to go but up. The Angel tears were dipped in happiness as they danced and as I was offered the gift of my addiction. Yes, as sick as it sounded, my addiction was a gift. And I have found myself dissecting my soul trying to figure this one out. What the heck?

　

When I first got sober, it was like my arm waking up from being asleep. It was painful and strange. The pins and needles are like sadness over things lost, fear of the unknown and anger over the disease. After being numb for so long, I started to feel all my emotions at one time and it exploded like a nuclear plant. There is really nothing I could do but go through the pain until the feeling came back.

　

What matters most of all though… is that I got sober. I owe no explanation to the world. For being sober is enough, I am enough. God says so.

So today, I get up, put on make up, go to work, go to a meeting with other addicts and share our experience, strength and hope and I pray. I pray. I pray.

I am a recovering addict and I am proud of this badge I wear.

Beautifully Awkward

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Serendipity

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on February 4, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

Serendipity….A fortunate accident.

You might say that is what happened to me: My addiction a fortunate accident? Well, yes in a sense.  Today I feel that way. Two years ago, not so much. But today, sobriety is a gift.

Long ago, I longed to feel “normal” like my friends. Their lives were so together. My life was in such turmoil that I felt sure everyone knew what a screw up I was. So as a child, I tried to fit in.

Fast forward some years and the pattern continued. Early on, I would descend into a world of addiction and lose my identity even further. Fragile from the barrage of abuse, I felt I had come home to the numb feelings I now experienced.

Life had her way with me. Consequences from my choices.

Despair.

*Sigh*

But for the grace of God…

I was called into place of something they described as “Rehabilitation.” Oh, in the beginning I was very angry and didn’t want to be in this place. It wasn’t my choice, but then really it was. I was just so tired.

“Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly…,” I started to let go of the anger and resentment and open up to those around me. The people in my groups were happy. I often thought to myself, “What could they be happy about?”  They aren’t normal. They can never drink again. They can’t take a pill without going off the deep end. My life was over as I knew it.

Well thank God. Because my life just sucked.

I hadn’t had a clean and sober day in years. And now I was living a normal (used loosely) life.  Today, I am learning to walk a path I never discovered before.

Life is good. I am living in freedom. (John 10:10)

A fortunate accident indeed.

Beautifully Awkward

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A Simple Prayer

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on January 28, 2012 by Her Broken Wing

What do I oppose?

Scoundrels? Thieves? Skid row bums?

not really….

Who do I defend?

God? Family? Friends?

I’d like to say yes…

Searching for things…in my own life to fill that insatiable hunger that goes on into the night calling me by name.  And I feed its’ hunger like a furious wild animal gone too long without food. I forget to see above my natural instinct of desires and fall into the pit of longing.

Great regret sets in for having tumbled over enticing moments in time.

But grace sets in and reminds me of the Voice of Hope.

Not joining in would be an act of betrayal.

Simple faith… one simple day.

From a simple prayer.

Beautifully Awkward

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