I Can’t See Him, But I Know He Is Here


How does God speak?

I don’t usually write this late in the evening but I had to. I would not be able to sleep if I let this go. I always clean my cookies and shut down the computer but for some reason I did not know one half hour ago why I let everything remain on.

I am sitting here with a stomach ache and pain running through my blood. My muscles feel tight and I almost feel like I am going to vomit. I just got through watching Joyce Meyers. Someone two days ago and if I am thinking right it was my friend Cathy who asked me, have you ever seen Joyce’s testimony show?

I had never seen it I told her. Wait a second, I have to get myself under control. My fingers are turning icy and my arms are quivering. What is going on here? I feel like I am being taken over by something or someone. My neck feels stiff and my feet are cold.

Alright I am going to try this again. I went to my room and flipped on the TV. I always watch Joyce Meyers between 10:30 and 11pm. I think I am freaking out because another friend of mine, Cheryl had asked me to go back to the beginning to write about Al‘s Life Journey.

I had actually started my first chapter beginning when Al was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. I have that saved and will put it in place when I get to that point. I did go back and I was forced to say for the first time out loud that I had been abused. I know Al was too, I just don’t know what kind of abuse he suffered. His fears early in life prove to me something drastic happened to him.

When I watched Joyce I felt like someone was picking me up and pulling me through the TV screen. The show was her testimony show that I was just recently asked if I had seen only a couple of days ago.

As my friend’s question began to race through my mind and  I listened to Joyce’s words about her own sexual abuse I was relating so well it was almost as if I had lived with her when she was young or maybe I was that black shadow watching from the corners.

She had it much worse than me and I thanked God that I don’t remember nearly as well as she does about our childhoods. The more I listened the more I kept asking myself, is this planned for me to hear? Is this book of Al’s Journey of Life supposed to be written right at this time in my life? It was actually making me feel uncomfortable because I could tell with no doubt that God had this all planned to the second. I say uncomfortable because facing fears is not one of my high points in life.

As I am writing this I can almost see a wilting, black rose shrinking over in the corner of my living room. I can almost hear screaming words of No! He can’t win! I am having too much fun. I have controlled her life for so many years. Just a few more years, let me have her for a few more years.

My eyes are watering as I feel this playing out right here in my room I am typing in. I have never seen God but I feel like he is standing so close to me right now I am actually shivering.

I can’t really tell you how I feel about hearing her sermon and how it is connecting to my story. My brain can’t take it in quick enough. But, I do know that something good is going to come from this. I do know that there is going to come a time where I too shall be set free from the feelings of never being wanted all my life.

Some where through this typing I keep getting this nudging that keeps telling me Al is involved with this too. Al is filled up with Parkinson’s. I don’t know how I can help him by God healing me. Maybe it is just that Al consumes my mind so much I am thinking about him even as I write.

Several people have told me through this year of blogging that maybe I am the one to learn a lesson through Al’s illness. I have always dismissed this because I would get angry. I never want or wanted to be the reason Al is suffering from this terrible disease. But now I am softening around the edges. I still don’t know what is happening. I feel foggy and yet I feel God very clear right here, right next to me.

I will stop now because it is almost too much for me to digest. All I know is something happened in my bedroom on my bed while I was listening to Joyce Meyers talk about how God healed her from her past. And now she is a witness to others leading many to Christ.

Good night my friends……….

Sexual Molestation


What I saw at the grocery store. Story: An eye...

What I saw at the grocery store. Story: An eyewitness tip sent a paroled sex offender back to prison. (Photo credit: turkeychik)

http://www.staceypageonline.com/2013/02/28/sex-crimes-net-man-40-years/

It makes me sick to my stomach when I read articles about molestation in the newspapers. We hear them on television. Or maybe we hear about it in our neighborhood.

I know for me, I have grandchildren that live near me and I receive email alerts when a registered sex offender moves in close to us.

I don’t ever remember hearing this term sex offender when I was growing up, but I do remember one time when I was 16. I was staying over night at my cousin’s house. My parents had gone somewhere, I don’t remember.

I was sleeping soundly when I was jerked a wake by my male cousin. I was frightened and I got myself out of the situation but not without leaving behind some emotional scars of what he had tried to do.

Now today I understand the human nature of hormones and wanting to experience what those feelings are, or do I really get it? Experts say that when a baby fondles itself as their diapers are being changed to not get alarmed. It feels good to them so they are re-acting to it.

As a young child in early elementary years I was caught by an adult starting to play doctor with the neighborhood boys. I didn’t think anything about it. I didn’t know any better, but thankfully the adult supervision knew and the game was never started.

Where does it change? When does it go from being a natural state to crossing the line? What makes men, and I use that term men, because that is who we usually hear is the one starting the problem. I am sure there are females involved  but I actually don’t know.

What gives humans the feeling that it is alright to touch another human? Did I have those feelings when I was young but was too naive to act upon it? Did they ever enter my mind? Lord I hope not. But yet the game of doctors was definitely without my knowing an exploring game of the opposite sexes.

Is the way we act somehow have to do with something that happened in our very young childhood? Is it always the parents or grandparents fault some person crossed that line? I am not sure.

I really don’t remember a thing about my ages of 0-3 but I do know through stories that have been told and having been hypnotized because of my fear of the dark, that I was passed around the table so to speak like a bowl of sweet candies. I am so thankful I don’t remember a thing.

I don’t know if I suffered any long-term damage from those days, but I do know that my need to feel loved and needed is very high when it comes to who I am. Even though I live alone, there is always a deep longing to be needed for me, to be loved, to be thought about. Is this some damage left behind from days gone by? I don’t know.

When I did learn about sex molestation I was still in the stage where I knew little. I don’t know that much about it today either or I guess I would not be writing this with a non-understanding about it.

Oh I know how it works I just don’t understand why it happens. These men who molest young girls, can’t they get a girlfriend of their own or same age group? Why do they go for the innocent children?

How in the world can you make me understand why a daddy would take advantage of their own precious child? The only sick reason I can think of is some kind of power control? Bitterness? Getting back? Wanting others to feel their pain?

One time when I was about 10 I had an uncle that my mother didn’t obviously trust. She always warned me that if he ever tried to be with me alone to tell her immediately. This uncle had a garage in the back of their house that was transformed into a shop. There was one day and I do remember this well. It was sunny out and I had shorts and a shirt on.

My aunt was babysitting Al and me and the uncle came through the back door and called my name. He told me to come out and spend some time with him while he was doing his work. I don’t remember what the excuse was to get me out there, but it must have not clicked with what my mom had said because I went.

I do remember him laughing and being in a really good mood. I do remember him wanting to pick me up and spin me around. I do remember me being fearful of the spinning and I told him no. He picked me up when I had said no and spun me anyways. He had one hand under my rib cage  and his other hand right in my crotch.

I started to cry instantly afraid of the spinning, but the words of my mom filtered through and I became even more afraid. I started kicking and yelling and the aunt came to the back door and was yelling about what was I screaming about. He put me down and I raced in the house. As soon as mom picked me up I told her. Obviously this aunt never babysat for us again. I don’t know if mom told the aunt about it or what, it remained a hush topic for ever and ever.

Does this go on in families? Does one of the parents or siblings know what has happened or tried or is going on  but no one says anything. The hush game becomes the priority all of a sudden.

Does this lead the perpetrator to feel a certain power that he is getting a way with it so now he can go outside of his box and attack other innocent victims?

I wish I had the answers, but I don’t. I am not a professional doctor of any kind. I know that from what happened to me which was back in the fifties and sixties, can only be magnified today in the year 2000’s.

When my family sort of smirks when I tell them about a new email alert I received, I think to myself of what happened in my life, what I read in the newspapers, or hear on the television. I ignore the small laughter because I want my grandchildren and any innocent child under the legal age to be safe and have the opportunities to grow up believing in hope and faith and human kindness.