Archive for journey

Here Comes The Son

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on February 13, 2011 by Her Broken Wing

A new day has begun. I grab my running shoes on this cold brisk morning and head out the door. It takes a while before my breathing begins to slow and my body begins to warm.

I’m alone except for the battlefield of my mind and her raging wars. Once again, I try to process the events of my so-called less-than-perfect life. Once again, I realize no one really understands unless they have walked this journey.

I go to open my mouth by my words elude my soul. My memories have made me this way.

My praise is all but gone. I lift my hands and wait for You to take them. I raise my voice up and wait.

What meaning would faith have, if You saved me overnight?  I rest in that thought.

The Sun rises and I smile as I turn the corner. It reminds me that You sent me one more promise in the day.

Lord, I lift my hands and pray, here comes the SON.

Beautifully Awkward

Happy Birthday

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on February 1, 2011 by Her Broken Wing

 Today I have been sober for one year. I cried all the way to work this morning. This is no less than a miracle for me.

Somewhere down the road this past year, I had began to let go of the tight control I had on my life (which  ironically I had no control of) and handed it over to God. Subtly, I realized I was giving God all areas of my life– even the small things.

I have come to believe in a power greater than I.

My Jesus

Beautifully Awkward

Daydream Believer

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on January 29, 2011 by Her Broken Wing

Shaped my world were games of Eeny meeny miny moe, he loves me he loves me not and dreams of sailing away from my world with my make-believe lover.

Daydreaming, I believed I would be rescued from the Demons that danced and twirled in my pain-ridden world. I waited endless nights for my Prince Charming.

Restless inside, I drank the deep. I dreamt of another world of peace and happiness.

My secrets, however, would soon be found and the world had its way with me.

Daydreaming, I believe I would be rescued from the Demons that danced and twirled in my head.

Buried by my many walls, I walked on this side of the world.Thinking I was protected. Praying I was. Finding I only excluded my Prince Charming from ever finding me.

And then, my once sacred pearls scattered abroad. I had held on too tight. Now,they knew. I was exposed.

My dream world was shattered.

I never saw it coming. I never saw Him coming. The change was subtle.  My soft foundation shifted and I fell.

Only then did the Prince Charming greater than my wildest dreams reach down and pick me up. (Isaiah 9:5)

All through a Daydream Believer.

(John 3:16)

Beautifully Awkward

To Reclaim My Heart

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on January 12, 2011 by Her Broken Wing

Time passes and the honeymoon is over. The high of not being high has lapsed and now I must face life on life’s terms. They (those that have gone before me in their walk of sobriety) call it the “Roller-coaster” of emotions. But do I have to fall and falter to a low, or does the pendulum have to swing to the extreme?

Most days it does.

I am on a journey to find and reclaim my heart.

Through my addiction, depression and life’s journey, I have lost heart. And to lose heart is to lose everything. The geography of my core lies solely on where I have traveled. To lose my way as the elements chip away at my center — day by day reroutes my desires and my dreams.

It is not until I have lost my way, do I find my way— for in my heart is where my Savior rests in a deep love.

Beautifully Awkward

A Love Affair

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on January 4, 2011 by Her Broken Wing

It is darkest before the dawn. I lie in the shadowy part of the night clenched tightly to my covers. The Voice in my head is unrelenting. I toss and I turn. There is an emptiness I cannot fill with all the drugs in the world.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.…” Matthew 11:28

The Voice again.

Night after night. When will it stop?

Something is definitely missing in my life. There has to be more. I am vulnerable now. I am broken.


I have been reckless and wild–trying to fill the need, that deep longing. But the wild life was not it.

The pastor calls from the pulpit, demands I come, I do, but that was not it either. Maybe a small group and study of the Word. The hole is still there. I have a general sickness and lethargy of the heart.

Am I just spiritually immature?

Once again the Voice speaks, the Voice calls, this time in a passionate longing that desires to be satisfied. And through reckless abandonment –a deep love affair is found. Through my broken and crumbled spirit–The longing is filled. All through a fervent love affair.

For My burden is light… and My love is deep…

Beautifully Awkward

Road To Damascus

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on November 18, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

On my road to Damascus I had worshiped another god.

Persecuting the Lord Which separated me from a Love.

The long hot dusty roads I traveled only to seek another fix–I lied, I stole and I cheated altogether in self-satisfaction.

But now in a Holy moment, I was blinded by a pain too great that my loneliness could not be reckoned with.

At this instant, my sight was shaded by something  greater than I.

The sounds around me hastens my senses, “Who is there?” I cry.

And then, the tender touch of a hand guides me as He whispers.

I go.

For I was blind and now I see.

A dusty road I walk, led by His eyes.

The eyes of His surrender. The tender touch of His hand.

God is not dead nor does He sleep.

Beautifully Awkward

The Wind in our Sail

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , on November 1, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

 If I cannot change the wind, then I will adjust my sail…

Beautifully Awkward

The World’s A Stage

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

“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,…”

William Shakespeare…

My world is a stage…you…you are but a player on my earth.

I was quick to judge you as you were quick to judge me.

I looked at my own flaws through your eyes. I sought perfection in myself as I did you. But often, you failed me. Repeatedly, I failed you.

Recently, I heard someone say, “I found that if I was not the problem, there was no solution.” I had to drink these words, allowing them to flow lightly over my tongue as I swished them around in my mouth so I could savor the statements reality.

It was up to me (through God) to find serenity–not you.


There is a “bit of good in the worst of us and a bit of bad in the best of us ” (from the Big Book of AA) reminding me that we are all flawed and just trying to endure the performance of our life— each day we try-out for a new scenario.

But we are good too.

Survival–life. Maybe more. Abundance? (John 10:10)

But I have come to believe that my addiction is the best thing that could have happened to me. Proving to me that I know very little about what I need and what is in my best interest. So, maybe you judge me by my failures–my addiction. But God judges me by failures and how I rise from the ashes of destruction –”for My ways are not your ways.” (Isaiah 55:8)

Thus, I have learned that all the times I thought I had the world figured out, you figured out and gave you long endearing advice, I really didn’t know what was good for you for I did not even know what was good for me.

So, today I resign from having all the answers.

And whatever is in front of me at the moment, whatever I find peace in at that instant…IS God’s will for my life.

Humbled? Maybe but I am content in living in the background of my stage of existence.

Beautifully Awkward

The Great Mystery

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

“Once you alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior. But now… the hope.” (Colossians 1:21-23)


…The Great Mystery…


So…Christ died for my sins…somehow that was not enough to keep me sober.

I’m sure that just about now, many of you are aghast at what I just said. But if this were not true, none of us would sin. For clearly, something was missing. And I was sure to find it.

I have great zeal and passion for life. I just never knew it. My secular knowledge and wisdom far outweighed the supernatural world yet to be explored. I was intellectually prideful… Not to be confused with an intellectual…obviously.  I had the lights on but nobody home deal as well– no heart either.

I faced the subtle lies and deceptions of the world around me through my diverse skills…those developed along my path of destruction.

I cultivated my own spiritual world, my own beliefs. No wonder I could not embrace the “Church” –maybe that and the shame factor. Either way, it was a volatile combination–the implosive type.

Inner alienation…self destruction…the great fall…

For God used all this to clear out the cobwebs of my life to open up room for…

His Son…

The Great Mystery…was not that Christ died for my sins (although He did) but that I could live tenderly, passionately and with tremendous zeal with and for my Savior…

Beautifully Awkward

Letting Go

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on August 6, 2010 by Her Broken Wing
I remember back as a little girl, the first time my dad let go of my hands. He said, “Go, I‘m right here.” I trusted him. I jumped into the deep waters and swam. He watched me intently with his big beautiful and loving eyes. I was the center of his attention. The world had stopped for a brief eternity.   

I remember…   

My first day of school my dad walked me up to my class, and said, “Go, I’m right here.” There he let go of my hand, kissed my head and walked away. I believe I saw a tear.  My heart was beating so fast. But I trusted him. I knew he would be waiting for me.   

When I was nine, my dad held me tightly until the doctors wheeled me back into the procedure room to sew up my head from a tragic injury. My dad said, “Go, I’m right here.” I still remember him reluctantly letting go of my tiny hand. Oh, I did not handle the separation, for I saw my dad cry. I felt my heart swell.  I knew I was loved.    

Then life changed…Some months later something happened, my dad had to go. Through the heartbreaking devastation of divorce, my dad took my hand and said, “I must go, but I’m right here.” My trust was shaken that day. Obviously if I had tried harder, my daddy would not have gone.   

So my days grew dark and long… the days became months and the months became years. I was learning a new life without the structure I had known, albeit not that great for my parents really were not cordial. I was learning to live out of a new identity of that of my previous Daddy’s Little Girl, I began looking to fill a void deep within my heart. I wanted to be the center of someone’s attention. I wanted back what I had as a little girl.   

Trying to fill the past with something of the present is like putting a square peg in a round hole. I just doesn’t work. For God says, “Press toward the goal…” (Phil 3:14)—- not … hang out in the past…   

But the pain was too great for me… So I continued to fill the void with things not of God…   

Near the end of my father’s life, I plummeted into total despair. I held the pain of his death like a trophy. I could not let go. For letting go would mean… acknowledging my sickness, my victim mentality and meaning that I would have to become real with myself. To release my dad to my Heavenly Father, I would have to release myself as well. No more “Oh poor pitiful me….“seeking sympathy of others… living in the chaotic world I thrived in that kept it acceptable for me to use drugs. After all, look what I had been through…To trust–we must take a risk…for others are going to fail us… I am going to fail others.   

Letting go, would mean–Dad saying, “Go, I’m right here.”Letting go, would mean–Abba saying, “Go, I’m right here.”  

 Today, I am able to jump into the deep places of my life and immerse in the warmth of the surrounding embrace of love…For I am the apple of my Daddy’s eye.  

Beautifully Awkward