he drew back to strike her

Daily Life

i have always had the spirit of a fighter, but not a rebellious, get in trouble, break the rules, kinda fighter; the kind that is quick to defend those i love or jump in front of danger when i see injustice.  we were at the state fair, which we did every year with my family, and i recall walking past an old elephant and it had the saddest eyes, i must have been maybe 8, and about that time the handler came around the other side and drew back and whacked the elephant up side the head with the hook they use to prod them along.  i instantly felt my heart tear and anger boil toward the handler and before i knew i had crawled under the ropes and positioned mself betweem the beautiful beast and the monster who had struck her.  well he had not taken to my sentiments and began to say chioce words to me and about that time i felt the my hands of my protector, my father.  he picked me up and placed me over the ropes and had the man by the throat before i could hardly turn around and find my Mom.  my father was one not to take kindly to anyone speaking harshly to me or my mom or my brother, for that matter he didn’t speak harshly to me and he certainly wouldn’t allow anyone else.  strange, i’ve seen someone disrespect my mother and he, with just a few words, convinced them to apologize.  his reputation preceeded him.  i have, also, seen him take on 2 – 3 men who were unfairly beating on one.  he was a “just” person in these regards.  with me, he was a safety, i could count my life on. a comfort, assurance, force that i could be certain would always protect me, shelter from all the bad and evil, and never let injustice, or ugliness, touch me.  he fell in love with mom in the 5th grade.  Don and Emma. my mom tells the story of him saying “you will marry me some day”.  she remembers seeing him in class, a handsome boy, black hair, slicked back, pretty skin, hazel eyes, tattered pants, shoes with holes in them, but a tenderness toward her that he had for no other, although, as the years went on, she remembers a boy, almost a man now, jeans rolled, starched white t-shirt, black leather jacket, still as handsome, still as tender toward her, but, a rebellion, a saddness, an unworthiness. shame, regret, a struggle, somehow haunted, bound, shackled, unworthy , almost like a prisoner, yet she was just a kid, and all she knew was she loved him and he would fight the world for her.  they married and 2 years later i would be born.  they say God knew exactly what they needed when he gave them me.  you see my dad never believed my mom loved him.. because all he’d ever known of love was shame, regret, pain, abuse, all that started when he was just a 4 or 5 year old boy.  it had effected the way he viewed himself and the way the world viewed him.  he felt like he was little better than garbage to the adults that abused him, and if this was true, how could my mom truely, i mean really, love him, because, all he had ever known of love-his parents-had let him down.  his father was mean and beat him and his mother didn’t protect him from the years of abuse….from so many predators inside, and outside, the family.  so when God gave my father a child to love him, he for the first time knew what love was…without expectation, or requirement…unconditional love.  i adored him, as did my mother.  because of the lack of security in his life…he would be certain i felt and knew absolute security, i wouldn’t hear phrases like you’re unworthy, you were a curse, you’ll never make anything of yourself, you’ll always be a failure, you’re not loved, you’re not wanted.  he would make me feel, every second of every day, that i was wanted and loved, as would my mother.  not an impostion or a problem, but, wanted.  my parents, would give me the foundation to build a soul, my inner self the way i think it was intended to be, not self serving, or selfcentered but, worthy of love, worthy of freedom, worthy to give yourself to others.  a whole person…they gave me this gift.  i am a whole person, i owe this to them and how they loved me, with such a balanced love.  with this gift they also gave me a sad, sad opportunity of watcing their great love affair, and our family, fall apart.  you see the 2nd month they were married, my father abused my mother.  the 2nd month!! i would become the fierce one, the mediator, the calmer, the one to bring him back in the moments of rage directed at my mother, because never a moment in my life did he ever offer to harm me or direct the violence at me.  i was fightig for her but i was also fighting for him.  i loved them both.  why? why?  when he had a family!?! my mother loved him deeply, i worshipped him, so much love!! i sat with him one night on our back porch over looking the back acreage, a brand new 4 stall garage for his race cars, my horse grazing, i said dad what more could you want?  you have 2 women that absolutely adore you, 2 race cars, a business, a beautiful home…all he could do was  hang his head, you see my father had not come to terms with the unworthiness, the shame, the regret, the saddness, all the things that had him shackled and bound him for 40yrs.  he was captive and no amount of love from my mother or me could free him.  no amount of things could take the pain or release him from the tormented place those adults had put him in, as that pure little boy of just 4 years old, trusting and believing that no one meant him harm. in a moment evil would usurp his soul, it would never again be his own, he become like garbage, used and disposable.  it would leave him tiny, stripped naked, being unprotected, insecure, unworthy, full of shame, hollow, saddened….shackled,  bitter and “bound”, and unable to receive LOVE.  the abuse would continue for years, shame has a loud voice, it was your fault, it tells you are unworthy of love, no one could love you, you become but a ghost of a human. instead of telling those that love you, you strike out at them.  the protector would live with a new shame, the shame of hurting the one he vowed to love, his soul mate, the innoent one he had mixed his own blood with ink to permantly have her name burned on his arm, the one who had loved him since he was a boy. evil is like that, it only destroys, now shame on shame, it would be more than his soul could bare….even breaking his mind.  30 yrs of love in marriage, giving, convincing, giving every inch of her heart, her soul, her life…never eyes for anyone but him.  now she knows hopelessness, despair, heartache, saddness, all for very different reasons.

i will continue this story at a later date

i had to have my transmission rebuilt so i found a shop, and i knew instantly the bossman was a tyrant. the first day i baked the workers a cake and good lawd you would think i had given them gold. the 3rd day i brought them all hamburgers from the little gas station/convenience store, just to say i appreciated them and “thank you”.  i know its hard work and not easy working in a warehouse in 110 degree weather. well, the office/parts guy…James…i got to know fairly well.  my car, due to some issues, was there almost 2 weeks, but he would never make eye contact with me.  i said, james why don’t you make eye contact with me, is it because i’m a white girl? (James is a black man).  he laughed a genuine laugh as he looked at the floor.  i continue without skipping a beat, i have found its one of 2 things you’re either telling me a lie or your feel unworthy to look people in the eye.  his shoulders slumped a littled lower and he looked over his shoulder even further…only then he raised his head and he looked at me but..sort of..he just looked past my cheek and said, mzs dyer the first time i recall looking at someone in the eyes i guess i was maybe 4, 5 years old, the next thing i remember i’m looking up at the ceiling and i hear my daddy say, boy don’t you ever look at me again.  i stood there in absolute humilty and i am sure he saw the looked in my eyes….shock.  he said, i have lived my whole life looking at the ground, my name isn’t even James, my employeer gives us names to use.  my mother left when i was eight and my father never had one word to say to me that wasn’t of the meanest spirit. i took all the beatings for my brothers and sisters,  i failed in school because i was too insecure to even speak to the teachers, i quit, began odd jobs and one person after another replaced my father.  i just finally resolved i was meant to be below everybody else.  when i was younger i questioned why my father hated me so much, until it just didn’t matter.  i asked him did he have kids? he said, no… he didnt trust that he could give them the life a little child deserved.  i say i stood there with humility because i stood before a giant, a man of 56 years that was still standing, after being kicked and knocked around his entire life!!  to have that kind of will of spirit….i felt about an inch tall.  i felt tears well up, i asked him his real name, then i said his name, “your father, took, a moment in your life, but not every moment.  i see you, and i find worth in your life and you have not gone un-notice by God, i’m told he binds Himself with those who are crushed in spirit”…..and i drove away, in utter shambles.  like my father, james had fallen prey to a darkness that bound him, and had choked the life out of him, he had no freedom, no laughter of spirit, he was heavy hearted, his ability to received love had been twisted, messed up, stolen. he’d been disposable….used and dumped and now we have an adult walking around with the all the pieces of the wounds…his father sliced so deeply!

i had not suffer the hand of abuse from my father but i had felt the deep pains of loving them both and not being able to save them.  i had felt pain so deeply i would feel, at times, i couldn’t bear under the weight..  it would cause me physical pain,  it would eat at my soul, it would become my every thought.  my saving grace was my mothers love for the church and at an early age i found a place of refugee. in the quiet moments i would find myself curled in my bed begging God to save our family, save my father and save my mom.  at those moments  it was such an oxymoron…we had such great love in our family and security, my father was such a great protector, loved so deeply and had gvien me such a gift, a gift of himself, a gift of a beautiful love story!! he formed how i would chose my husband, keep my purity, save it for the one i pledge my life to, yet, also a gift of the violence and a gift of seeing him digress day by day as my mom drifted further and further away, losing herself in the hopelessness and desperation, as her grip on my father and our life was slipping away.  i saw the most joyous and free spirited person turn into a broken and detached women.  so i knew what it was to see the ones you love suffer and fall under the burden of pain.  but, i, unlike james and my father, had been spared, God had had his hand on my life from a very early age…then, just like with james, i was able to insert myself into his life, bring some solace, some hope into his life. i feel we are a small portion of heaven spread out on the earth, meant to be representatives of God…use the pain we have had in our own life as a platform, a way to touch people, that without those experiences of our own pain,  i don’t think it would be possible to touch.  my granny always said, your life is what draws people to you Shug, which is short for sugar.  use your life and how God smiled on yur life to bring peace to those who are hurting and broken.  i can’t share my story with everyone i meet, but, i can be aware,and i can say, thru this simple blog,


seems like all i could see was the struggle

haunted by ghost that lived in my past

bond up in shackles of all your failures,

wandering how long is this gonna last

then you look at this prisoner then say to me son

stop fighting a fight thats already been won

i am redeemed

you set me free

so i’ll shake off these heavy chains

wipe off all the stains

i’m not the man i use to be

i am redeemed

all my life i have been called unworthy

named by a voice of my shame and regret

but when i hear you whisper child lift up your head

i am redeemed

you set me free

i shake off these heavy chains wipe away every stain

I’m not the man i use to be

i don’t have to be the old man inside of me

his day is long dead and gone

i’ve got a new name, a new life i’m not the same

a name that will carry me home

i am redeemed you set me free

i’ll shake off the heavy chains, wipe away every stain,

i’m not who i use to be

jesus i’m not who i use to be

cuz, i am redeemed

Big Daddy Weave

if all you see is the struggle…you will live with the ghost of the abuse you lived though, chained to a decision you made.  i was speaking at a conference and after i finished a beautiful little teenage girl came up to me weeping….she tells me she lives everyday wanting to die because she killed her unborn child.  she had an abortion.  she had loved the boy who was the father and it had been her only experience. her friends told her it wouldn’t hurt, it would be the best thing, due to the gapping wound she and her lover had not been able to handle the guilt and had broken up. she had began sleeping with anyone who would have her.  she was bound to her pain, her guilt, her shame.  she asked if god could ever forgive her? i held her, told her to lift up her head, she just had to forgive herself. she was free, the moment she whispered His name, now you have  to free yourself.  you can be free of the heavy load of your past, don’t be bond to the past…shame, regret, unworthiness….and don’t allow your future to be ruined. God meet me in those moments of pain when i thought i couldn’t continue on, He always came when i called.  just as i told james, and i will tell you, He will bind Himself to you, all you have to do is allow Him into all the recesses of the soul, He and He alone can restore a soul that has been crushed under the weight of a disolving marriage, a family that is being crushed by financial crisis and will soon face being seperated,  He can restore a soul that is told it is worthless, He can restore a girl to Him, that has carried the burden of her lost child, and restore her dignity and honor, yes, dignity! God brings dignity and honor to those who call on Him.  He is a restorer! not a thief! search until you find Him, search for Him, he is the redeemer!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s