inner healing, part two

If you are new to this little series, 

find part one of my healing journey here

find love story, the prequel here

So I began my healing process with my therapist twice a week. In her office I dealt with a lot of the hurt, anger, frustration, sadness and making sense of a lost childhood.  But the real work took place on my couch every morning.  You see, that's where I'd meet up with God.  

Every morning I would spend time with Him, reading the Word.  For about a year prior, I had gotten into a great groove with an awesome devotional Bible.  I would read the passage for the day, read the devotional and then journal on the reflection questions.  This habit was a great building block for me in my walk with the Lord.  To this day, I still journal just about every morning.

But back to that spring 2008, I was dealing with the aftermath of not only the abuse, but of the poor choices that I made as a result.  I have heard it said that broken little girls grow up to be broken women.  That was me. Plain and simple.  For the first time in my life, I was dealing with the sexual abuse from my father, the abandonment from my mother, and the mess I made in my own life.  Before I knew the Lord, I hung out in dark places and I was dealing with the consequences of those choices.

At this time, I had also left my job teaching and I was looking for work.  For the first time in my life, I couldn't get a job.  I was used to walking in to a principal's office and they'd hand me the job. {I'm not trying to brag, that is just the truth of my experience.}  But this time was different.  I couldn't even get camp counselor jobs.  What was going on?

What was going on was the Lord was making sure I had a clear schedule to do the real work.  Amidst the emotional upheaval, feeding myself three meals and walking Bodie was just about all I could handle in a day.

I wanted to break out and to breakthrough.  I was determined.  In my quest for freedom I reached out everywhere I could.  And by His grace, an awesome book, Beauty for Ashes, came into my lap.  This book changed my life.  But I didn't just read it in the way I normally read a book.  It was me and Him, every morning,  workin' it out on the couch.

I read that book like it was a workbook.  I'd read a paragraph and journal on it.  I'd read a chapter and take notes, underlining what really touched me.  I even photocopied portions of it and taped them into my Bible. When the scriptures were referenced, I didn't gloss over them {the way I sometimes do when I read} I would underline them, go look 'em up in my Bible, underline 'em there.  Ponder 'em. Medidate on 'em.

do not be conformed to this world

but be transformed

by the renewing of your mind

{Romans 12:2}

And that is exactly what began to happen to me.  My mind was becoming renewed through the word of God. Little by little I began to see that He really loved me.  It was around this time that I began to call him "Abba-Daddy" and truly develop a relationship with Him as my perfect Daddy.  

Those moments on my couch were precious.

Necessary.

I believe in healing and I believe in miracles. I also believe that I am the emotional equivalent of a person whose legs were amputated and then grew brand new legs.  I am an emotional miracle.  Given my past, my history, my choices, and the messy mess-mess that I came up out of, I should not be able to have the life I have.   

I have a stable life. For the most part, I make good choices.  My heart is soft.  I am trusting of God and trusting of others.  But I also know when to say no and when people are taking advantage.  I know how to set boundaries. I don't over eat,  or under eat any more.  I don't over shop, or buy things I don't want, need or have the money for.  I don't long for what I don't have, thinking it will fix me.  I no longer drink or do drugs.  I no longer smoke cigarettes.  Years before I met Mr. Handsome I looked to relationships to fix me.  Oh, back then, I'd say I was a romantic.  But really, I was just looking anywhere I could for a fix.  I was in deep, deep pain and I wanted it to stop.

And back when I was making those choices, I didn't even know I was trying to stop the pain. All I knew is I needed more of everything and nothing worked.  Until I came to Him.  Not in the cute sweet way, but in the messy, snot running from my nose way.  Crying out to Him from the deepest places in my soul and giving myself over completely to Him.

even me.

Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; 

old things have passed away, behold all things have become new

{ 2 Corinthinas 5:17}

And I mean it.  When I read that verse that says that I am a new creation, you'd better believe it.  Like I said, I am a walking, talking miracle.  I have been given a second chance.  You know how sweet and lovely He is?  He restores {and keeps restoring!} the lost years.  I mentioned it in last week's post.

And that's where my life is today.  I have been given back the lost years.  That's a whole notha series.  But you see it here, in my life as a quilt.  The sweet newness of my marriage to Mr. Handsome.  The Lord  has restored me.  He has given me back lost time. 

To say that I am blessed is putting it way too lightly.  

I'm new.  

Brand spankin' new.

I started down this little rabbit trail of inner healing because I began to tell the story of how Mr. Handsome and I met.  I got to the part where I cried out to the Lord to prepare me to become married.  I  {somewhat} glossed over the inner healing that had to take place before I was even remotely ready to meet the man who would become my husband.  After I re-read it, I realized I needed to go deeper.  So I went.

But all of this is to say that next week, I'll be back, continuing the story of how Mr. Handsome and I met.  We are still on the prequel, but getting closer to that day we first met.  Thanks for sticking around on the journey with me.

more to come...

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