What I saw through her hands

Growing up, I saw my family as perfect. I think most children do. I didn’t see their flaws or imperfections. I saw through the eyes of a child. Simple and pure. As I grew I came to realize that no person is perfect and we all have a journey that we have and will have to walk through. 

My grandmother has been here visiting us from Michigan. Its been so wonderful to have her here to visit and for my children to get to know her better. I had her over the other day to watch a movie just her and I. As we were watching the movie I looked down and saw her hand on my lap and I thought about what she and these beautiful hands has had to walk through. She came from the generation of people that were taught that they didn't have a voice and taught to keep their problems to themselves. Something about these hands brought me to tears. She caught me and we were able to talk. Which is something that as she has aged means so much to me.

 Grandparents have powerful stories, they have lived and walked through so much. We all need to take the time to slow down to learn from the hardships they have already walked through. I pray that when my grandchildren look down at my aged hands one day they will see victory, strength and hands that chose to love deeply.  

What he stole

Allowing someone that once meant so much to me and at one point held a large part of my heart and consumed most of my nightly thoughts and fears. To no longer giving them the gratification but genuinely forgiving and letting go. All while finding the voice they silenced for so long. That is when my deepest and greatest healing began. 

 I use to allow his voice even when not physically present, to lead and dictate my heart and emotions. He was amazing at making me feel falsly loved and safe. Doing this all while hurting me the deepest that anyone had ever or will ever hurt me. He destroyed my view of the world and myself as a child. Yet, he did all this while convincing my young innocent heart that he was safe and could be trusted, while it was others that were the real threat. He stole my innocence, robbed me of a healthy view of men and my own worth. He made me question my thoughts and other adults around me. I learned the art of self medicating because of him, the pain he caused was even brought into my marriage the first few years. This person stole so much and took away such large pieces of my heart that at one time I thought I would never live a normal life.

But Jesus..

My abuser may have stole a lot but nothing that Jesus couldn't restore and give crazy God size  healing too. Through His grace I received redemption and value back into my life.  He spoke worth over me and gave me the gift  of love from a real man through my husband, which changed my world, allowing me to feel safe. He allowed me to be weak and transparent, Jesus actually asked that of me. He gave me a voice and said use it. He revealed talents I had convinced myself I did't have. This Jesus, He mourned and wept with me for what I had lost, He laid beside me at let me weep in his presence. He spoke tony heart in such a gentle voice, one that my fragile heart needed in order to hear at the time. He led healthy people into my life and even though it hurt the so deept, He took the unhealthy ones out. He restored my heart. He did all this while asking nothing, it was freely given. Making the choice to follow and fall head over heels in love, so easy.

So, my abuser did steal a lot and yes somedays, though far and in between the acts of this man can still steal the joys of my day but the blessing is that, it's far and in between. He didn't win!