Pulled Into Letting Go

Thursday, March 20, 2025

Reminder: You Are Your Own Person Now.

My entire life has been a series of hearing "no" to the things my mind, body, and soul need in order to be safe, healthy, and successful. Sometimes it was me saying "no" to things because I didn't trust my ability to say "yes" and actually step out in faith to experience new things. Change can be really scary, and when you're accustomed to one way of living, even if it's painful, it's hard to accept something new and contradictory, even when it will bring healing.

As a child, I was often writing songs, short screen plays, skits for the stage, stories, and poems. My imagination would run wild, and I thrived on pouring myself into the entire process of bringing an idea to life and filling in all the backstories, defining and naming the characters, and imagining what the world around them looked, sounded, and felt like. I often pictured myself as a little ballerina with a paintbrush full of rainbow-colored paint, dancing around the room, creating vivid pictures of what was going on in my mind and these worlds I had dreamed up. Originally, my life goal was to simultaneously work for the church in ministry, and work for Hollywood, creating stories that talked about faith, and how to treat people with respect, no matter what you're going through. I so badly wanted to be involved in TV, movies, and music in every way possible, from set design to acting to creating the soundtracks we all enjoy.

What am I to do? I will pray with my spirit, but I will pray with my mind also; I will sing praise with my spirit, but I will sing with my mind also.
+1 Corinthians 14:15 (ESV)

The house I grew up in was noisy, chaotic, frightening, and abusive. Emotions of any kind were discouraged. Only adults were allowed to have bad days, big emotions, and make noise when both parents were home. Personal expressions, except those of adoration toward authority figures were not allowed. Disagreeing with parents was strenuously discouraged as well. I quickly learned to be quiet, squash all personal expressions of a public nature, and I taught myself both not to cry, and not to laugh. I would bite my cheeks as hard as I could until blood gushed into my mouth, and I would dig my fingernails into the skin on my hands until I bled there, too. This helped me remember to shut up whenever I was tempted to laugh or cry. Eventually, I would learn to not even smile. The more I practiced this, the happier my parents seemed with me and the less they sought me out to abuse me.

Over the course of my childhood, I sought out ways to express myself through song and dance, but always felt shamed and discouraged by my family, especially my parents. It was never encouraged to take part in activities outside the home, especially if my parents thought there was a chance I would spill the family secrets of abuse. Every time I tried to say "yes" to joining the school choir, or taking private voice or keyboard lessons, the answer was always a loud, resounding "no" and promises of "maybe later." It confused me greatly and hurt me deeply. A part of me has been hiding away all these years, waiting for the opportunity to come out and play. Recently, it occurred to me that I am almost 42 years old, and it is time to stop listening to old mental voicemails from people I've long severed ties with. It's time to step out in faith and try things again. I've got a meeting with my Pastor next week to discuss the possibility of joining the church choir, and I'm incredibly excited about it!

But I will sing of your strength; I will sing aloud of your steadfast love in the morning. For you have been to me a fortress and a refuge in the day of my distress.
+Psalm 59:16 (ESV)

In my quiet moments these days, I've been writing a couple of different books. One is a young adult fiction book, based on my life story thus far. The other is an autobiography. I have goals to turn the young adult fiction book into a TV series or a movie. I think it would be fantastic. My mind is reeling, as I fill out the character development, story lines, and describe the world they live in. I can picture it so clearly in my mind, it's almost as though I'm already in the midst of it, watching it play out for the cameras. If you have some time to pray specifically for this endeavor, I would appreciate it. If you know the Kendrick brothers, put a bug in their ear for me, please? I'm kidding...I think. Just writing it out makes it real and a little scary, but it also motivates me to make it a priority and finish this project that is so close to my heart.

As you're reading the words I've typed out for you, I encourage you not to ignore the thoughts and ideas you've got running through your own mind. What personal dreams and ambitions came to your mind, as you read about mine? What is keeping you from achieving them? What is keeping you from stepping out in faith and saying "yes" instead of "no" to yourself today? Lastly, how can I pray for, and encourage you? Let me know in the comments.

Stay tuned for another episode. See you next time! And remember, if you or a loved one is in danger, get help immediately, and don't stop talking until someone acts on your words.

National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 800-799-7233 Hours: 24/7. Languages: English, Spanish, and 200+ through interpretation service. SMS: Text START to 88788

National Sexual Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673 Hours: Available 24 hours. https://www.rainn.org/

988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline Hours: Available 24 hours. Languages: English, Spanish. https://988lifeline.org/

In Christ alone our hope is found

Run, don't walk for help! You're worth it.

Wednesday, November 20, 2024

Grief Never Dies. It Just Changes.

She went to Heaven on a sunny day. There was not one thing about that day to complain about - except that she was no longer with us. And yet, I return to that day often when there's a storm brewing in my heart. What could I have done differently? Could I have saved her? Could I have prevented the heartache that would ensue? Was it my fault? If not, why not? So many questions have raced through my mind, tearing a hole in my heart, and causing me to retreat into the darkest recesses of my mind, searching but never truly finding relief.

My sister Melissa died on February 7, 2003. On that day, a piece of me died, too. I was no longer her sister. At least that's how I felt. And that was the most pertinent title I'd ever held up to that point. I was proud of being her sister. She was awesome. She loved without limits, without judgement, without a care in the world if she was loved back. That was just her nature. She loved.

For far too many years, that is the only narrative I have ever allowed myself to share about my sister. It felt wrong to ever think or feel something contrary. I only wanted to immortalize the good parts of her. Afterall, she was my sister. I survived, so I have to live for her - continue her legacy and make her proud, right? Every waking moment must be lived in such a way that would make her proud and honor her in some way. Same for all of my dead relatives. If I'm not doing that, I'm not truly honoring their memory, right?

Here's the thing about grief. It never dies. It just changes us. For me, grief became all-consuming in ways I'd never expected. It changed me into total sadness, and sometimes despair. Grief did not remain a feeling or emotion or a process. It became my entire identity. It sucked the life right out of me and promised me something elusive. Something I'm not even sure I understood the allure of. But it did answer a question for me. What comes next after loss?

There are five main stages of grief. They are denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. It's possible to skip around in there, to experience some more strenuously than others, and to circle back to some stages multiple times. For me, I've never really gotten past the depression stage before circling back to another. Acceptance seems somewhat elusive, as does moving on. It's interesting to face that truth now. Seeing it in black and white really rattles me somehow, but it also brings me some peace. Now I know what to work on. Now I know what to call this stagnant holding place I've been rotting in all these years. Maybe now I can move forward? We'll see.

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.
+Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 ESV

What I do know is that God is calling me to something bigger. It's been 21 years. It's time to move forward and let the grief transform into something else. It's time to stop living in the past and let go. One could even say I'm being pulled by my Lord and my family into letting go. I do not need to be defined by my past. I do not need to make it my entire identity. My sister is gone. My innocence is gone. I am still here and it's time to start living in the here and now.

Let's pray

Jesus, in Your name I come boldly before the throne and ask for Your forgiveness. I've been so stuck on the past, on holding it closer to my heart than I needed to. I've shut out Your power and strength, and focused on my own pain and weakness, making that my identity. This is not who You've created me to be. This is not Your will for me, either. I am sorry and I humbly repent. As I move forward in love and light, I will continue to look for all the ways that You're blessing me, healing me, and calling me into something new. I am no longer bound to my past, but to You and You alone. I love You, Lord. Thank You for healing me. In Jesus' name. Amen.