it wasnt that long ago.

Im sorry for writting this blog but its like nearly 12.30am and i cant sleep due to the amount of crap i have floating around in my head. I am so aware that it is New Years day and i should be happy and what not.. But new years eve and the days that follow are the most challenging days in my personal calender. 8 years ago, on new years eve, i was sexually abused, So come this time of the year, i am somewhat sensitive and fragile. But bear with me, i promise this blog isnt about looking for someone to say poor shani or anything like that..

I still remember like it was yesterday the day I spoke to Barb about 'it' .

What would I call it when I talked about it? Would I have to use the 'R' word?

I couldn't tell her about the sweat, about the touching, about the body parts. What was I going to call the body parts?

They made me cringe just thinking about them. It was as if they were just that. Just body parts. Not even attached to a man or a woman. Just parts that existed. Parts that existed to inflict emotional pain. He did not touch me, He touched parts. He did not hurt me, he hurt parts. He did not rape me, He raped parts. Just parts, that's it. Nameless, faceless parts in a seedy garage one night. Parts that I left there, and never wanted to talk about again. Buried parts. Parts that I hated. Parts that I despised. Parts that I could never forgive myself for.

That day I talked about 'it' for the first time. The parts. For the first time the parts of me that had never been seen before were now exposed. And when the air hit the wound it stung big time.

Over the past year, Barb has helped me slowly clean the wounds, and Jesus has begun the long process of healing them. It certainly hasn't happen overnight but somehow Jesus has brought me to a point where I can kinda breathe again.

The very parts of my life that Satan had used to bind me to the rock of shame, are now the parts that bind me to the rock of my Saviour.

It was not to long ago at all, that I was desperate for the pain to end. The past few years have been spent filtering through some extremely painful memories, not even able to escape them in my sleep There have been times where I would think about the trauma all day long, wanting and waiting desperately for someone to come along, pick me up, dust me off, love me, and take the pain away. However, I would cry all night, because day after day it didn t happen. Nothing could touch the pain, the only thing I could do was lay in bed, envisioning myself in the arms of Jesus, clenching my bible, and falling asleep in a pool of my tears.

It wasn't that long ago at all, that I felt if I ever came through the pain, it would be a miracle. If I could ever function again, or go a day without crying or self harming, it would be a complete act of God. It wasn't that long ago that I saw myself as nothing but a victim, and let him continue and continue to victimize me with thoughts of worthlessness and shame over and over and over again.

Why do I tell you these things? Because I am just stepping a little bit out of that pain where I can function in a tiny bit of joyfulness, rather than simply celebrating a lack of suffering. I have to consciously make a choice. To allow God to take the pain and draw me closer to Him, or to allow it to drive a stake through the core of my heart, never allowing Him to come in. Somedays, thats a really hard choice to make but, if there is one thing I know about my Jesus, it is that His word is true.

He tells us, Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10

But, He has got me and He has got you with His right hand He WILL uphold us.