Little Girl Lost

I spent the day "cleaning" out old trunks which hold memorabilia. Cleaning. Yeah, right. You know what I'm talking about. You get sucked into your past with looking through old journals, old pictures, old notes saved from fourth grade, your first diary at age seven, theatre programs, etc. I sat cross-legged sifting through all of this. I knew I would be whittling down very little. For some reason, I have this need to hold onto different parts of my past, namely my pain.

Let go, I hear you say. Let go, I hear Him say. I'm not holding onto it, per say; I mean, I'm able to rise out of the hole and do other things like fix some dinner and pet the cat (husband is working today), but I do admit that I get lost in my childhood and teenagehood. And as I looked, read, searched, I saw that my past was fraught with pain.

I read at age seven where I was so angry that I wanted to die. And that thread continued in each journal, up to last year. I looked at the "Me Books" I made out of photo albums: where I'd cut out inspiring and beautiful pictures, mostly from Victoria Magazine, and pair them with my poetry. I was 12-16 years old when I did this. The writing is... sad.

I felt so sad for that girl. I had no clue. I had no clue how much my life would be spent fighting the devil. I wouldn't even know it as him; I would call it depression, the Nasties, bipolar, doubt, desperation, suicidal idealization...

It all started out so long ago, when I was so young. So young! My soul cries out in tears. Why did I struggle so? Often at my own hand.

I have to take a step back, through the looking-glass mirror. I had to look at who I was today. What I had today, Who I had today.

Many are the sorrows of the wicked, but he who trusts in the LORD, lovingkindness shall surround him.
Psalm 32:10

For now I have Christ. I have not felt loneliness since that November 6th day my eyes and heart were opened to the Lord. I have felt sad, but my sadness have not reached the desperate melancholia that it has the potential to reach.

This morning, for instance, found me lying in bed until quite late. My best friend had canceled our plans and that hurt me deeply and my husband was downstairs writing a long, important business letter. I dreaded the day because I was afraid of being alone in the house. I love my house, but I often don't like being alone.

After his email, husband came into the room where I had fallen back asleep (should I also mention I am physically sick?) and said in a firm voice, "honey, I am not going to let the devil get you today." He opened the blinds and lightened the room.

It's a process that's been done before, although not said like that. People have come into my life and said, "that's it! Get OUT of your funk!" but I have never really responded.

This time, I felt the love of my husband and his desire for me to beat this. Now that I understand the devil whispers doubtful and sinister things into my ear, it makes it easier to "get out of the funk." I could feel God pulling me gently out of bed, as gently as my husband was doing. I sat up and hugged him. He prayed for me, for my ability to climb out of the hole, to banish the devil away, to have a good, productive, enjoyable day.

Years ago, I would have succumbed to such a state. Stayed in bed and suffered.

Lord, I will not suffer any longer. Little Girl Lost is now Adult Woman Found. I know to suffer is to deny Your miracles, grace, and love.



Hallelujah!

I'm putting my past away in the trunks and I'm living out of my own heart now. I'm living out of the Bible; I'm living out of Christian radio talk shows; I'm living out of daily prayer with my husband and I'm living it out in church every Sunday.

I am so blessed to have come full circle and seen the error of my ways. I do not have to suffer.

I can soar.



Bless you.