Hey there guys!
I can’t believe it’s already March. Where is 2017 going?!
In a few days, I will be a month shy of my two year soberversary. Two years. It really is amazing what two years can do to a person. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. If you would have told me two years ago, on the very night I was arrested for drinking and driving, again, that I’d be sitting here, two years later, sober and married to the love of my life, having moved away from my home town and having let go of almost everything I thought I needed to survive, I would have laughed in your face. I would have asked how many beers YOU had.
I sat down this morning with my devotional and my Bible. My devotional reading reminded me of God’s great love for me. He put these words on my heart:
“I’m here to help you. I’ve never left you, and I’m always here no matter what you do or how far away from Me you may slide.”
He knows my struggles. The daily, internal struggles that I bury deep, deep down. The ones I don’t want to burden anyone with. The guilt. The shame. The inadequacy. The things that I let go of but slowly creep back into my consciousness and overwhelm with the power of a storm on the sea. When the wind and the waves toss me this way and that, when there are so many thoughts tumbling around in my head fighting for center stage that the only thing I can do is sit blankly and let them have their way.
Before I start writing this, I want there to be no mistake. I love people. God has given me a love for humanity, a need to reach out to others, whether they’re struggling or happy, believers or unbelievers. I am by no means attacking anyone or bashing anyone for their beliefs.
That being said, I think it’s pretty accurate to say we all know someone who is a Christian. I grew up around them, all from different denominations from several different churches. I looked up to some, others I wasn’t so sure about. Now that I’m older and a Christian myself, I look back and I’m a little scared of how impressionable I was and the things that these people taught me. Some were flat out lies that I know now to be untrue. When I had no knowledge of the Bible or of God’s love, however, these things impacted how I looked at God and what it meant to be a Christian.
One word. One action. So much freedom.
How hard is it to forgive? Whether it be yourself or someone else, the act of forgiveness can seem utterly impossible. When we are wronged, we sometimes see it as a reason to hold a grudge, sometimes cutting people out of our lives forever. I was one of these people.
Hello all! I hope your Christmas was filled with faith, family and joy!
I’m so excited to be on the mend and writing again! The holidays are always a little crazy between the family gatherings and the hectic shopping. I, personally, am not-so-secretly happy that they’re almost over. They’re exhausting! Along with being sore from surgery, I’ve also been a little down in the spirits lately. When asked why, I have no proper answer. I’m not sure. The weather? The pain that comes after surgery? The constant go, go, go of the holiday season? Your guess is as good as mine. I knew I needed to write today, I just had no idea what to say. This is where my five year old comes into the picture.
It’s been a while! I hope to find everyone in good health and enjoying the holidays. I had a very interesting weekend to say the least. I started out Thursday evening with a pain I had never experienced in my abdomen. It started out as mild discomfort and gradually got worse as time went on. I went about my tasks, many of them that day as I was preparing a surprise for my husband the following morning. My brother in law and I were set to leave Albuquerque about 8:30 am to meet my mother and father in law halfway to Denver to bring my two younger bro’s in law to spend a few weeks with us. This trip would be climax of weeks and weeks of scheming and tip-toeing around the truth with my husband so we could surprise him. I guess God had different plans for me.
Shame. Shame was my constant companion for years and years of my life. This shame I carried was in part because of what I had done and partly because of what had been done to me. As a teenager, I was in an abusive relationship. Physical, emotional, sexual. It was years before I could even acknowledge out loud that it had happened. It left wounds that I left untreated and eventually scarred over, leaving the poison and infection buried deep inside. I turned to anything I could to stop or numb the pain. Alcohol. Relationships. Surprisingly, never drugs, though alcohol became my drug of choice and was destructive enough. I didn’t want to feel these things. I didn’t want to go through the process of healing, I just wanted to be healed. So I ignored it instead.
Welcome to fieldnorflower! Thank you for being here. This blog is something that I’ve been called to do for some time now. God has put this on my heart for over a year and the Holy Spirit has been convicting me daily for the last few months to get started. The very human part of me held out because of fear. That horrible emotion we all feel. Fear of judgement. Fear of what people might say. Definitely fear of it being a complete bust and not reaching anyone. But God also gently reminded me, multiple times I’m not proud to admit, that He has overcome the world. If He is on my side, who can be against me? The Bible tells us repeatedly not to be anxious but to pray about everything. If this is something that He is calling me to do, how can I fail? It’s simple. I can’t.