Life is like a deck of cards

Have you ever felt like you were dealt a hand of cards that were crap. You know that kinda of hand that you look at and say, really?? Did you stack the deck so you would win, and I would loose? Cause I have Nothing to play with. 

But as you play in the game of life. You see that a card can be played. and it really wasn't all that bad. You played with the hand you were dealt. You might not have won. But you finished. You may not have the perfect hand, but you tried the best with what you had. And then waited for the next deal. Maybe its better, maybe its worse. But you kept pushing through and making the best of situation. And you always seem to be able to play something.


You go down the road that you aren't in control of when your younger. You learn what you learn from watching, and imitating what you see right in front of you. You repeat the words that your ears hear. Your actions speak louder then your words. Because that's what tends to happen. You become a product of your environment  good or bad.

But when you grow up you get to make your own choices.  choices that are going to define who you are. Your morals, what you will stand for or what you will fall for. You get to choose who you want to become. 

You get to choose to be different. to recreate or imitate. You get to break the chain or add another link. 

Life is not easy. And sometimes things happen that aren't fair, and that don't rest easy in our spirits. Or that makes us question or doubt. I have had many of these moments in my life. Many...But the one thing that I have learned over the years. His light will shine when everything else fades. We aren't alone in this messy game of life. I have to remember that. Do you?

To yell or not to yell...That is the question.

 Does yelling, or screaming or raising your voice work? In my home it does not. So why oh why do I do?

I can't even tell you how many times I have started my morning with the right intentions. I do the whole self talk thing. Crissy you will be patient. You will be slow to anger. You will not yell today. 

I really have embraced, as my right, the simple right to express my anger. I Don't beat them. I don't lock them up  (even though I may want to at times. Lock them up that is.) So I surely do get the right to loose my mind, right?


If I have the right to loose my cool and yell so loud that I hurt my throat. I should get some satisfaction right? Wrong! I would say 9 times out of 10 I end up in my room bawling my eyes. I feel guilty. I feel sick. I feel ashamed. I then have to tap on the door, with my head hung low and ask for forgiveness. It really is hard to admit your wrong doing's. 

I then follow that into my room, enter into the bathroom take a look into the mirror and ask myself. Who? Who is this person? And Why? Why can't I control my anger? Deep sigh.

And really, Does me screaming help the situation? Does it help my kidlets listen better or feel loved and secure? I am sure that it makes them feel the complete opposite. In fact I know from experience that it does indeed do the opposite.


So I would like to declare. I am not going to yell anymore. This is going to be SO easy for me. Nah, its going to be hard. VERY hard. You see, I am the person that has a type A personality and I have Small, OK HUGE control issues. I also come from a family with a long line of Anger. But I will save that for another post :)
Here's to my challenge. Wish me luck and pray for me to change the tone of my house. I will let you know how I do....How I honestly do.
Cheers, and Blessings

Watch your tone!

Watch your tone!

Guess what I am NOT talking about my kids. I am talking to myself. 

It’s been so easy for anger or defensiveness to creep into my words. When I stop and think about it, I often ask Lil man and Lil miss something, already assuming it will be a battle, and that shows in the way I speak. How can I expect them to do what I ask when my tone is already telling them they don’t want to? How can I expect them to reply in an appropriate manner when I have already set the tone for the conversation with the first words that came out of my mouth? Sometmes I hear myself talking angry, when really, I am not ( yet ) This week I have been really thinking, pondering, digging deep within myself. I have been trying to be honest. Is this the tone that I want set for my household? And Honestly ladies, Mothers. wives. We are the tone setters in our home.
I have watched it over and over and over again. I walk in the door from work. Grab the lunch bags clean them. Look at the agenda's, fill out the forms. Start dinner, break up a couple of fights in the living room. Nag to start the homework as I start to cook dinner. Clean up the bowl of yogort that was spilt on the newly cleaned carpets. Go back to the burning  Cooking dinner. I can feel my blood pressure raising with each incident. Than Mr.man walks in the door. I am standing at the stove. with a stand offish tone. I am talking with an irratated tone. I am conveying a nasty tone. So what happens? Unless I can calm myself down. It trickles down the line. Mr.man feels the tension and it carry's over to the dinner table.

I am not o.k with this. I am not with any of it. I am not ok with the tone that I set. 

I am the catalyst for change and if I want my family’s conversation to be kind, understanding, and pleasent then every time I open my own mouth I need to hear those words in my head…And speak them. 

It’s not going to be easy for me. There are a few hard truths that I will need to face. 

I need to tackle our routine and my own personal time management. And got off of FB.
I need to find joy and peace in looking after our home. Because sometimes everything seems pointless and mundane.
 
I need to give myself freely to the joy of being with my children when they need me. I need to stop being selfsih and sit down and play playdoh.

I need to extend ‘my tone’ beyond my children to my husband and to myself. 

I am not saying that I want a perfect home. Where things will always be gum drops and lolipops. It won't be a home where everyone is happy all of the time. It's not a home where the wheels never fall off. But it is a home that manages the set backs, the frustrations and the disasters, big and small, with grace and love.
I want to live in that home. I want to set the tone for that home. 


 

My heart whispers....Your tired of being let down.

I was sitting in church on Sunday with tears streaming down my face. What is your heart whispering? Shane ( my pastor ) was asking us why are you angry? 
( not just to me, was he asking this question.) but it felt like it was SO directed to wards me. ever have those moments?? Take off the mask, and look deep. Ask God, he will tell you. 

Well in my life I have had several reasons to be angry and I do believe that I have lived my life hanging on to the thing that felt like home. 
( anger ) Sounds weird?? Yeah kinda.  

On the outside you wouldn't see it. You wouldn't think that I was the type to get easily angered. Well I am. I annoy very easily. ( something that I detest about myself ) I hide it well. I have several different masks. I even wear the mask in front of myself. I didn't notice until 4 years ago how angry I really was. Saying that. God has been stripping that off. It is taking so much longer than I thought it would, but My heart is healing. 
But....this Sunday. God spoke quietly. I almost didn't hear him. I stopped singing. I raised my hands. feeling kinda desperate for some reason. 

I took off the mask. And I heard. Crissy you are tired of being let down. My heart spoke loud and clear. I sighed a very heavy and deep sigh. Yes. Yes I am tired of being let down. I am tired of being hurt by the ones that are suppose to be there for me, and protect me. At that moment, God brought to my mind some names. I began to cry. I have not been able to let it go. And when I think of their names I get mad on the inside and I mull over everything. Even relationships from over 10 years ago. 

*Deep sigh*

 x Husband -Why did he not want me to go back to B.C? How did he walk away so easily?  First husband gave up. Yes I feel let down.

Old BF- Best friend for years. walked away and judged me because I wasn't living the way that she thought that I should be. Wasn't invited to her wedding. which was crushing. Yes I feel let down.  

Mom- Yes in almost every area...Yes I feel let down.

Dad-  Why did you give up searching for me? Why do you live so far away? Yes I feel let down.

Friends- Why am I always the one to reach out? If I don't I never get a phone call. Yes I feel let down.  


Church- Yup...I feel let down.


Myself- Yes I feel like I have let myself down. I didn't do the things that I should have. Out of selfishness and fear. 

God- I felt ripped off. In almost every aspect of my life. 


So what now? What do you do with the whispers of a heart? Guess what my first reaction was...Yup, you guessed it. I was angry. I walked home from Church and was mad. But I need to get to that spot. Where I can let it all go. Where I can let the let downs of life go. And focus on the positive. 


What is your heart whispering? Can you take off your mask long enough to hear?
 

30 now....its been 22 years since I saw him last.

My Father as you all know, has just re entered my life 15 months ago. After a very long 22 years. I am simply amazed at how alike we are. I remember the first time I heard his voice on the phone. I was utterly speechless. And not for a couple of seconds but a few minutes. Crissy, honey....its your dad. This moment will NEVER leave my mind. I remembered his voice. It was like I had never stopped hearing it. I was in total and complete shock to hear him at the other end. My dad. I have a dad. We were on the phone for 2 1/2 the first time speaking, and then was here the very next morning.

I opened the door and this man with Grey hair, my height, my eye color opened the car door and made his way up our stoop. I was so happy and yet so sad. Where did my dad go? He had a beard and his face has wrinkles. I thought back quickly to the man I once remembered. He had dark hair and always wore jeans and cowboy boots. He was a good looking man, he reminded me of Dean martin. But he is old now. I could tell he had problems with his knees. He was having slight trouble getting up the stairs.

We hugged and I cried, and cried. All these thoughts were consuming my mind. I was so angry that I got ripped off. I missed 22 years of his life. I never got to see the progression of him getting older. I missed literally everything in his life. and vice versa. I wish that I cold fully explain how this made me feel, but it is hard. My dad missed so much. My weddings, the birth of my children. Seeing me graduate, seeing me grow into a women. He didn't know anything about me. who I dated, who my friends were, what jobs I have had. NOTHING! this was hard. He sat on the couch next to me, and I could not stop staring at him. He was so handsome. He was my dad. We look a lot alike. Skin tone. We have the same shape hands and feet ( short and stubby) We have the same color of eyes and we are the same height. We are both sarcastic and share the same sense of humor. We are both stubborn and hard workers. I am so glad that I can finally say that I am like someone. I grew up with my mom. Who I am completely opposite then. We look and act nothing alike. And the BOOM. I take one look at my dad and know that I am his. I finally feel like I belong somewhere.

But when my dad left.....I could not stop crying. All I wanted was for him to be close. I didn't want to be apart from him. I still don't. I honestly can say that I cry every time he leaves. It breaks my heart. At the beginning though I was sacred. I thought that he was going to leave and not come back, like what I was used to when I was little. I hate so much seeing him leave. I would give anything for us to live down the road from one another.

We have to learn to blend our lives together and this is oh so very hard. We all have our own friends and lives that never included one another and now all of a sudden we have to figure out how to incorporate visits and holidays and phone calls etc. You may think its easy. But nope. My dad and brother and older sister live 2 hours away and my little sister 4 hours away. I just started my own company, I am very involved in our church. I have two children and a husband. I have a life that never included all of these people. What a drastic change. I do have to admit. the first couple of months after finding my dad. I wished that I didn't have my family. I wanted to just go live with my dad. Something that I never had the chance to do. I wanted to be his little girl again.

So that's my struggle today....Wanting my daddy closer to me.

Bucket list

1. To take the kids on a plane ride.
2. To go on a missions trip to Africa.
3. To write a book
4. Get my motorcycle licence.
5. Get a ninja
6. Learn how to bake bread and buns
7. Work alongside Thomas
8. Take a phtography course. Buy a good camera
9. To Get married
10. To have kids by the time I am 30.
11. To own my own company.
12. To be debt free- almost there-
13. build our own house with a wrap around porch.
14. Help a friend in need.

blah

Do I really and truly believe with my whole heart what I proclaim to believe in? Do my actions match my heart?
Lately, I have been wondering, questioning, not doubting but, curious and searching. What am I here for? Really?? Why do we go through the things that we do? And how do we take those things and run into his arms? And the let the light of the world embrace us?

I don't feel like the same person. I feel distant and lost and swallowed up. I feel empty and lonely. And I Have for some time now. Sad. I feel sad. My inner most being feels sad.

I met a new friend a few weeks ago and as we are sitting on the beach. She mentioned something to me that will never leave me. Why do you think you entitiled to that? was her question. WOW was my first thought. a very bold comment. I took a breath and it ran deep threw my veins. She is right. I have sat here thinking, why??? Why could I not have a normal mom. A normal family? Why do I long for that so much? Why do I think that I am entitled to it? 
I am so good at saying the right thing. I am also good at saying somethings with my head and not my heart.
I pretend I am fine. I pretend I don't have a care and that I have all together. why?
I pretend that its ok and I say that God has a plan ( which I know he does.) but...I don't understand why? Why can't I let it all go?

Just some thoughts running threw my mind today. Today is blah. Sad..And blah

things I have learned, actually, its things I am learning.

Things I am learning.....

Once in a blue moon its ok to say yes to buy a box of the crap cereal. When it is on sale. It put a smile on Jacobs face to buy Reese puff. Looks gross, but it says Whole grain. I think that is just on the box to ease Mommas guilt.

To let your youngest to nap longer so you can blog or journal. It is therapy for sure So what she may stay up half an hour later. Its worth its weight in Gold to have silence and let the words flow on to the screen.

To have your friends over when the house is in shambles. I am not perfect, Nor is my house work perfect. And please if you drop food on the floor here...Do not eat it, because I don't when the last was that I washed my floors. Just spot washing.

Its OK to price match at Walmart. It saves us money. And that's why they created it. Don't feel bad for the people in the line up. But I need to remember to not stand there and Sigh when I am the one waiting for the  person price matching 50 items. Show grace, so grace is given to me.

19th and 20th year part two.

So there I was admitting my past. It was a huge load off of me. But what God had for me next was not easy. Forgiveness.

Not just admitting what happened but forgiving what happen What did this entail? Because I honestly came to conclusion that this person that I called mother. The one that gave me life. I hated her. And I had for so many years. It was such an odd relationship. She was the only one that I had, so I loved her. But I would have given anything to be freed from her hurtful grasp. I was so used to saying the words I forgive you after an "episode." I learned that I was saying this with my head. Not my heart. because the foulness that was coming out of my heart was rancid and ugly.
So me being me...Sassy and bold and sarcastic challenged God. yup that's right I told him fine. you want me to confronted her...to forgive her. To open up and be honest. then get me a plane ticket home. It was the time of year when everyone left. Due to it being Christmas. I was expecting to just stay at the school, cause we had no money for me to go home. Well....This is the oh so very cool part.

God said Crissy here you go. Follow through with what you told me. My friend Sharalee came into my room. She was an amazing friend who I grew very close too the first few months. She told me that her parents were awoken during the night and felt like they needed to buy a plane ticket to go to Toronto for someone to fly home to see their family. SharaLees parents didn't know me from a hole in the ground. Nor did they know of my situation. but God did and God gave them a call and they answered.
Well dang it all. God answered my challenge and here I was flying home to the women who I missed, but hated. To the women who I was going to say...What??? what am I going to say to her? To say I felt ill is a complete understatement. I wanted to die. Like how do you bring that up? Hey mom remember when you used to get your winter boots and kick the crap out of me?? remember when you used beat my arm with a meat mallet until its all swollen and bruised?? Or how about kicking me down the basemen stairs? Huh remember that? Well I forgive you. I think not. I was going to be home for 2 weeks. I will figure out.
So it was just that...I was at my mom's apartment. every night I would gather up the courage and go out into the living room and go to say something. then I would freeze. I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. It went on like this for the whole 2 weeks. And then I left. yup I left. I packed my bags. I drove to the airport and I didn't say a freeing word. I apologized to God over and over. I failed. And he made a way for me to go home. And I was too scared.

But....My flight was delayed. and I was sitting in the chair twiddling my thumbs. What the heck to do? I grabbed my back pack and opened to see a letter sitting on top of it. Don't open until you get back to B.C it read. And of course me being me. I opened it. Well after all I have a 2 hour delay.

Well to my surprise the very first lines wrote. Crissy honey, I have to say that I am so sorry for everything that I put you through as a child.
Wait. Hold on a moment... She is saying sorry?! I started to cry. Oik I mean BAWL. I mean the kinda of crying when snot is running down your face and your shaking like a leaf. the man next me looked at me like I was nuts and moved down a seat. I looked at him and said they are good tears don't worry.

My God, the merciful and loving God that he is, was working in my mothers heart at the same time. He already knew that I was not going to be able to say anything. but he wanted me to go home. So she could say something to me. I wasn't a coward. It wasn't my place to say anything. but hers. this was indeed the first step to healing. I did fly back to B.C and called her as soon as I got there. I told her thank you and we left it at that. We didn't talk about it much. But the process was started.

I will write more soon. But I am back and it feels good to be writing again. Thanks for reading.

To be honest...

Deep sigh...to be honest I was starting to share all of my life's stories last year, starting with the very beginning. Then I came to a point where I had to stop. Going through all of those emotions again. Re living the moments that turned my world upside down. It was like I hit a brick wall. And because I stopped blogging I forgot all of the passwords etc. But I am ready to dig in deep and start to ponder and explore all of that again.
I left off at the second part of my 19Th and 20Th year. This was when I met Garrett. My first husband. The love of my life, the one who could make me laugh like no other. the one who taught me so much about myself.Also the one who left me broken, abandoned and rejected and un loved.
So stay tuned to the next chapter...I will be honest.

19-20 Part one

this next chapter is very hard for me to explain. It was one of the hardest years of my life, but one of the most beneficial. I learned a lot about who I was. I learned a lot about who God was. I acted out a lot, yet it made me lean on God.

Bible college for me was a time where God stripped me naked and then started to clothe me piece by piece again. Man I don't even know where to begin.

My friend and I drove out West, we took the long route through the states. SO COOL! As we were leaving it was the perfect setting for a sappy chick flick. It was raining, and as we climbed in the van packed full of our stuff. Heather puts in a homemade tape given to her and I look out the window to see the one that had my entire heart for the last two years. As the tears streamed down the window and also my cheek, the song played in the background. I will remember you. What a perfect setting to leave it all behind.The boy, the parents, the job. and move on to the next chapter.

I told myself that I wanted to grow this year. I wanted to Give everything I had to God. I was not going to date, just focus on God. I was entering into a Missions course, and at the end of this course we would be going to China. How exciting. I could not wait.

Lots of stuff happened throughout this year. I am only going to focus on two major things that effected life forever.
First one. I had to write my testimony for one of my classes. I sat down and thought and thought, but nope nothing came to mind. I never experienced with drugs or alcohol. So I was never "saved " from anything. I tried at least four times to write the stupid thing, and came up with nothing. Then......One afternoon as I was walking by my professors office, and he yelled for me to come in. So I sit down, and he told me that he was awoken at 3 am the night before and I was on his mind. He felt like God was telling him That Crissy needs to forgive someone. What??? I told Bill that there was no one that I had to forgive. I was not fighting with anyone. I listed off all of my friends. He said he didn't know anything else, just that I needed to forgive someone, and I needed to pray about it. So I did just that. I began to pray that God would show me who this person is. And then BOOM one week later, by the way my paper was late, cause I had nothing to write about. I was awoken at 3 am and all of a sudden my mother popped into my head. But God I said aloud I am not mad at her. What do I need to forgive her about. And It was like this huge wave came over me. You need to forgive her for all of the abuse and the hurts that she put you through.

This seriously knocked me off my feet. If I was not already laying down, I probably would have fallen. For some reason it was like I heard this news for the first time. It was so odd. I don't think that I have thought about abuse in years. I was 20 now, and all of a sudden I started to bawl. God brought me back to a place of hurt and betrayal. and I was overwhelmed. What now God?? What do I do? How do I forgive her? This is your testimony Crissy, write about this. I heard. write about how I was there for you through all of the suffering. So the paper that was so hard to write flowed from the tip of the pen in less then an hour. I was in tears the entire time, but it was so amazing to write it all out. To get off my chest. and this was the very first step, was admitting that I was abused. It was around 5 am and I had to type it out, and I ran down to Bills office and slid it under the door. Phew....I remembered feeling a peace. until I was sitting in the class room a few hours later and Bill saying that we were going to stand up in front of the class and say our testimony out loud. kinda like a presentation. I almost filled my pants. I wanted to run back and grab my paper back and try and muster something else up. But it was too late. I wanted to die. I remember saying to God in my head. "Your kidding me" I can't tell anyone. I never once uttered a word about my past. NEVER! I was so terrified. And I also had no time to prep. It was that afternoon, that we were going to do it. I was instantly sick. My tummy was in knots. But I did it. I got up and in front of 50 people read it aloud. I was in tears and to my dismay half my class was too. After I was done reading it. I looked up and instead of seeing people who were going to judge me were people that hugged and embraced me. I felt loved and I felt at peace. And I felt like I was ready to let go of it all.

Now this next part is amazing. No one can tel me that there is no God. NO ONE! cause he was there, and he made it all happen. Stay tuned.

age 7-13

I was living in Huntsville and was going to the Salvation army church when I decided that I wanted to ask Jesus into my heart. I was sitting at the back of the church and marched right up to the front on my own. I obeyed what was in my heart. And I am so very thankful that I did. I felt hope. I used to live at the church practically. I felt safe there. The abuse did not stop right away, nor did the beatings lessen. My mother was still drinking but had a steady man in her life Roy. I loved him greatly. He was like a dad to me. He taught me to drive at the young age of 12. He was a great man. But he shot himself, he had suffered with depression for years. and then had enough one day and took his own life. This was hard on us both. Mom grew even more angry. I attempted to run away this year. My mom just beat the crap out of me and then 10 mins later asked me to get her some coke from the Beakers across the street. As I was walking down the hallway of our apartment building I had this urge to run. Just run I told myself. So I did. I put the change in pocket and ran as fast and as hard as I could. And as a 12 year old girl. I ran to the mall. I didn't know what else to do. I just knew I had enough. To make a long story short....The police found me, and I fabricated a story. I said I was kidnapped. I didn't want her to be angry with me. This story will never leave me. the police officer came into my room and closed the door. He sat me on my bed, while trying walk over the huge mound of clothes and toys piled into one HUGE pile in the middle of my room. You see my mother would get mad and empty out my closet, my dressers. strip my bed and pile into the middle of the room, and make me clean it up. It didn't matter if it took me all night long. So anyways.....He looked at me, and said Crissy If I catch a man by that decreption and we put him in jail, and he really didn't do anything wrong he will be in jail forever and it will be your fault. then he touched my arm and asked Is everything alright here at home? Are you safe?

I looked at him, and looked over his shoulder to see where the door knob used to be on my door, and saw her. I saw her eyes peering through the hole looking at me. I was screaming on the inside please oh please take me away. but my words spoke something different. I am fine. I love my home. There was a man in a white care that took me.
He left.....And then she went to go her winter boots on proceeded to kick me. If I screamed she hit me harder. the rage in her face, was something I could never explain. Why was this women so angry? And then a short time after...I am sorry, I love you, Please forgive me. And then things would be fine ( for awhile.)
I wish that I could rememebr some of the good things. most of the stuff I remember is the bad. So it makes it hard. I do remember having coke floats and watching movies. going for long bike rides, fishing, boating. but Most of all I remember the pain. I remember her drowning my cats in the bathtub, wrapping it in a garbage and making me take it to the dumpster to dispose of it. I can't even count how many times that happened.
this same year.....When I was 12. I tried to kill my own mother. She does not know this, but I tried to put rubbing alchoal in one of her drinks in hope that it would kill her. She just tasted it and said it was bad and threw it out, and of course it would not kill her. But I had it in my head that I wanted her to die. Sad I know. But true. This year was my breaking point. And I know without a doubt that God does not give us more then what we can's handle. Because when I was 13. She beat me again, and honestly something inside of my snapped. I went crazy. I started kicking and hitting and yelling back, and from that day on. She stopped. She never layed a hand on me again. Was it cause I fought back? Or was it cause God knew I was done? I could not take another moment of her hurting me like that. So I believe with my whole heart that God allowed a great change in her. this was the begining to new things.

Early years.

I was born in Kitchener Waterloo, Ontario. I was 7lbs7oz. born at 11:07a.m. My mother said I was always happy and smiling. I only cried if something was wrong. My parents were married at this time, but divorced when I was 18 months old. Both of my parents were alcoholics. I lived with my mother, and I saw my father on rare occasions. Always on our birthday. That's right... We shared that in common. Sept 16th our birth date. I have a half sister Peggy. I don't ever remember her living with us. Nor do I have any memories of her. We are 15 years apart. She left home to live with her dad at the age of 15. My father got remarried and had a son. So I also have a half brother I did not know his name. He is 9 years younger then me.

My mom and I moved around a lot. I counted how many different schools I attended I believe it to be around 16. I almost failed kindergarten because I did not know how to share. But they passed me, but I did fail grade two. This was the year that we received a phone call from a women saying that my father had died in a car accident, while drinking and driving. I remember coming home and seeing my mother in tears. But we did not go to the funeral and we did not see any of my dad's side of the family ever again. This same year My sister stopped visiting, and disappeared. The letters that we would send would come back to us. So all contact was lost. It was just my mother and I. Forever. No relatives to be heard of. My mother came from a orphanage so she did not have any family.

Life as I knew it was different from all of my friends. I grew up in a home where the one and only person I had in my life physically abused me. She was to be my protector and safety net. I loved her and hated her all at once. I wanted someone to take me away. but the thought of loosing her killed me. For who else who I have? I used to sit in the window and cry wishing that my dad was still alive, then he could rescue me. But no, I was left there alone to cover the bruises.
Not only was abuse part of it, but she was very strict. I was not allowed sleep overs. rarely allowed to go to friends houses. Not allowed to go to dances, hang out with boys. join a sports team. except what she wanted me to do. like bowling. Or swimming. I had to do everything with my mom. I believe that I was her only friend. this was hard. hearing and seeing grown up things. dealing with grown up problems. All I ever wanted was to just be a kid. no worries in the world.
As a child I hide things very well. I was very sly. I began to steal from my friends and money from my mom. I used to lie ALL the time. About everything. I used to lie because I was afraid. I lied so I would not get into trouble. I would lie to protect my mom. Lying became a huge apart of who I was, and became very natural. I started getting very aggressive with my friends. if they did not listen I would hurt them. and then threaten them to not tell. I was a sweet little blond haired angel on the exterior and a hurting angry girl on the inside. I used to bite kids, slap my girlfriends across the face. Yeah thinking back. Wow...I don't know how anyone stood being around me.
I used to sleep on bunk beds surrounded by stuffed animals I felt protected. and I would sleep in the midst of them all. Funny thing now though. I HATE stuffed animals and I hate my children receiving them. I immediately want to throw them out. bad memory I guess.
I used to love school, because it got me out of the house. I was not the greatest at school, not because I was not smart enough. I just saw it as a place where I could be social. I think every report card I had, said I talked to much. I was craving for attention from people. School was very much a social place for me.

One day my mother was upset about something I can't quite remember about what. I was in the kitchen and she grabbed a meat mallet and started hitting my arm with it until it swelled up and then tossed me down the stairs to the basement. This was a my place. I always was in the basement playing. And I remember clear as day. God speaking to me. I was about 6 or 7. I was holding my arm crying and asking out loud why?? Why do I get hurt all the time. And at this time I was not a Christian, but I heard God speak to me. He told me that this was not my fault. And the reason why I got hit is because my mommy was hit when she was small, she didn't know any better. So from the very early years of my life I understood I was not to blame. God never allowed me to have insecurity problems or blame myself about any of it.
I thank God that he gave me such an amazing understanding at such an early age. That year I became a Christian.

More to come..............