Most Embarrassing Photo

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I had mentioned on twitter this week that I was gonna post a “most embarrassing photo” of myself and that anyone who saw it here also had to share an embarrassing photo of themselves.

Well, Brent can’t find the photo I was thinking of. And let me tell you…it was a doozie!! My hair had air dried, I had no make-up on and I had a whopping bruise on my right bicep. But, when Brent transfered all his stuff to his new computer about 1/2 his photos didn’t make it. I know, it is so fortunate unfortunate.

So, instead… I’m gonna post the most embarrassing photo of Brent and me. We were dating. It was 1990. And it was all about the big hair!

Now…share one of yours!

 

The Writing Struggle

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Today I wrote another chapter for my book. And I must say…it gave me a heart work-out.

I totally get why people conceal injustices.

While revisiting some very painful moments from my childhood I struggled writing them down – for so many reasons. Not so much that it was hard for me, personally. I don’t relive the memories anymore like I used to. In fact, during recall, I actually feel as if I’m hovering over the past moment, watching it unfold as a total outsider. I feel physically detached yet there is still a connect. It’s hard to explain, really. Perhaps one of you can identify and articulate this better.

But what I struggle with the most is wanting to protect the people who were around me and “involved” at that time.

I struggle with the thought that while I do not have to endure all those abuses anymore, there are countless of children who are suffering this very second. Children who are being beaten and molested and threatened. They are frightened and alone. Even in a sea of people…they are alone and terrified. I hate that. More than I can describe.

I struggle with how much to share. I know I have literary freedom. But I also love and respect my family. I want to protect them.

This process is harder than I imagined it would be. Yet, it is one of the most necessary things I have ever done…for me, my family and, hopefully, for those who will someday read it.

I’m praying that as God walks me through this process that He will have me write exactly what is necessary and beneficial for His sake, His children’s sake and His glory.

Please pray with me…

[Following is an excerpt from todays chapter]

The secrets continued on. The sexual abuse, the physical abuse.

“Tam, how come you’re using a pillow on your chair at the dinner table?”

Danny glares at me with his sparkling eyes from across the table.

“Oh, um, I fell off my bike on the way home from school today.”

No. Not really. I had just been beaten with Danny’s belt-buckle while bent over this very chair, naked, for a half-hour straight for forgetting to wash a drinking glass this morning. But if I tell you that, mama, he’ll kill you. That’s what he told me. And I don’t want you to die. So I will lie to you. I will keep this secret. 

choosing hurt over healing

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Here are my thoughts. Take it or leave it. Love it or hate it.

Unedited…

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Hurt…in one word…hurts.

We all experience hurt. It is unescapable. It is a part of life. It comes in multiple levels.

One seems easier. Stay where you are. It’s all you know. It’s your normal.

One requires no work. It takes work to heal. To move on. To forgive. To focus on the future and not the past. To choose to trust again.

Outsiders often encourage the hurt by justifying. Babying. “It’s ok. You’re the victim here.” They’re enablers. And, often times, they have no idea that they are enabling. It is no fault of theirs.

We get comfortable with attention, regardless if it’s negative or positive. Attention is attention. It intrigues people.

Others reach out to the hurt because they know it’s right. The good in them compels them to want to help.

The victim receives that extension, and it is beneficial for a season. Often times, that season extends beyond its practical length. And, in turn, becomes a crutch and a comfort.

In all reality, you can become addicted to hurt. Some may feel that the only way they can get attention is by ”playing the victim”.

It’s not healthy. It’s manipulative. It can stunt emotional and spiritual growth. Ultimately, I believe that none of us truly desire that.

I realize this a very strong post. But, hear me out. Wait… read me out. I would never write this, had I not lived it myself. This would be an opinion if I were an outsider looking in. But, this was once me.

 

{This post was inspired by recent messages from Cross Point Church}

 

The Mystery Of My Dreams

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I’m disturbed. Confused. Completely baffled.

I keep having two recurring dreams. They’ve been a part of my regular sleep routine for over a year now. Tell me what you think about them…

Dream 1: Faulty Breaks

I’m driving, alone, in a car. Just cruising through town, regular traffic, no big deal. Feels like any normal day. I come up to a stop sign, or red-light, or slowing down in traffic and begin to press on the cars breaks. The car starts slowing down but the closer I get to the stop sigh, light, or car in front of me I find I can not come to a complete stop. I push with all my might and strength on the brakes but the car is still, ever-so-slowly, rolling. I never hit anything or get in an accident. I always wake up right before panic sets in.

Dream 2: Fatigued Legs

The setting could be anywhere, doesn’t matter, but I’m walking in all these dreams. At first when this dream started happening I was walking alone. The scene…just strolling, again-no specific purpose, much like the car dream, when suddenly my legs feel like they are a hundred pounds a piece. The fatigue I feel in them is so heavy, not painful, but near debilitating. My attempts to lift them to take the next step is almost impossible. As months have gone on this dream has evolved in environment. Now I am with people, in public settings. I am also asking anyone I am with to help me move my legs.

And that’s it. These dreams occur weekly. I can speculate their meaning. Perhaps I am feeling my life is out of control. Maybe I am reluctant to lean on others.

I’m not sure.

Any thoughts?

Let It Go…And Live

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I remember the days when I hid. The days when I woke up each morning and the first thing that came to mind would be my bag of secrets. I would slowly get out of bed, grab that bag of secrets, throw it over my shoulder and carry it around all day long. Allowing it to dig into my flesh causing pain, day after day.

It was my way of life. My normal.

This weekend Pete spoke a challenging word to many! Right out the gates he gave us this truth…

If we don’t learn to transform the pain, we’ll just transfer it.

 

Ok. Yes! This couldn’t be more true than truth itself. That was me. I transfered for years! I lied, misled, used, pretended, acted out, used drugs, invited an eating disorder, manipulated the ones I loved and betrayed peoples trust. All because I chose not to come clean.

The very second Pete shared those words my heart began grieving for all those who live under the weight of secrets and pain…no matter what the source.

I still have to work on letting things go. There are self-centered uglies splashed all over me. This weekend I was lovingly, but firmly, reminded to come clean. Come clean with God…Come clean with my loved ones.

Replace Concealment with Confession.

I just want to encourage all of you to find people you can trust to share the weight of your heart with. Most likely, they’re right under your nose. It’s been my experience that hidden secrets fosters a facade that acts as a flame that ultimately burns bridges. It’s just not worth it. Let it go….and live like you were meant to.

That is all.

Thoughts? Confessions?

[image]

So, what’s new?

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I don’t do New Year’s Resolutions. I’m not against them, I’m just against me having them. I know me better than that.

But, I did want to begin this year with a slightly freshened up look. So, making a small change to the blog here is a start.

Another change will be adding a real calendar to my life. Like, you know, one of those kinds you actually write in. Yah, that kind. Archaic, right? But I love those. There’s something about writing it down that helps my old brain have better recall.

There is a lot in the works for 2012. A lot. I want to set myself, and our family, up for success. This is a huge year. Not that moving across the country in 2011 wasn’t huge ;)

I learned a tough lesson in 2010…Sometimes things worth having and fighting for hurt. The journey can be difficult. But still a journey that is necessary. No sense in trying to avoid the unavoidable. Just, do it. Oh, I’m still learning this, by the way.

So tell me, are you incorporating anything new into your daily routine? Anything big on the horizon for your 2012?

That Was SO 2011! [via MTTV]

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Way back in the day a little southern fireball and I used to make videos together. We’ve taken a very long break. But, now, we are back people!!

We have nothing to say but you should totally listen. Trust us.

Pains of Parenting [My Top 10]

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I’m going to finish out the year with my top 10 posts of 2011. Yes, I realize that is when all of you click off and run outta here cuz you’ve seen it already. Fine…be that way ;)

But…I’m doing it anyway…

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Yes. There are pains involved with parenting. There are times when you want to run…run as fast as you can, as far away as possible. And if there happens to be a cliff involved you might consider a little jump.

Not just because a child or two has found your very last nerve. Sometimes you wanna run because you get scared. You become afraid of all the ways you might have messed your children up. Missed the best teaching and growing opportunities. Afraid of letting go – but knowing you have to.

There have been countless times when I have cried myself to sleep at nights, begging the Lord to erase from their memories any ridiculous words that came out my mouth or actions that spewed forth, if they were not going to build character…or mine. Yes, there are times when a parents failures serve as some of the best teaching moments. It’s often where humility and grace are best learned. Boy, do I know this.

My daughter is nearing her 18th birthday. My son just turned 15. I know what this means. It means the time is coming close when they will spread their wings and no longer be in this nest. It has all happened so fast. And so, now, I spend many nights crying myself to sleep because I know this time is inevitable, and I just want to freeze this moment.

They own my heart. That’s where they always are and always will be. Even when the day comes where they will no longer physically be near me.

So when they each gave me letters, that they wrote to me for my birthday last night, all these worries, fears and anticipations came to a sudden stop. I saw their words as a collection of years gone by…good and bad…but moments that have stayed with them and made them into the young adults they are becoming.

I am so proud of my kids. No, they are not perfect. I am not perfect. Brent is not perfect. We do things that would likely shock y’all. But we’re taking each day as it comes and doing the best we can with them. And I hope they do the same with their own kiddos some day.


[Family Photo by Alece]

It’s all worth it. Every single moment.

[Original post and comments here]

My Then. My Now. [My Top 10]

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I’m going to finish out the year with my top 10 posts of 2011. Yes, I realize that is when all of you click off and run outta here cuz you’ve seen it already. Fine…be that way ;)

But…I’m doing it anyway…

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Our move across the country is layered with so many different memories and emotions. This is one part of that…

2011. I now live in Nashville, TN.

1990. I lived in Knoxville, TN.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the difference 20+ years can make.

The last time I lived in this state I was married to an abusive husband who held a sawed off rifle to me threatening to take my life only to end by taking his own.

Twenty-one years later I am back, living, in the same state. [but a completely different state of mind]

1990 = Frightened young little girl running for her life. Trying to find life and its meaning.

2011 = A grown up little girl embracing the gift of life…And meaning to live.

What a difference Mercy and Grace makes.

My Story Here

What’s your story?

[Original post and comments here]

My Gifts [My Top 10]

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I’m going to finish out the year with my top 10 posts of 2011. Yes, I realize that is when all of you click off and run outta here cuz you’ve seen it already. Fine…be that way ;)

But…I’m doing it anyway…

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These are my kiddos. The two babies I never thought I would have.

I mean, as a little girl, I always dreamed of having two children. One boy – one girl.

But in the time that was lived in the in-between…I thought I had ruined that dream. I was certain I wrecked any chance of ever having children.

Worse yet, I just knew God wouldn’t allow it.

After my second abortion, at the age of 17, I realized that I may have just destroyed my chances of having children in the future. Suffering through the recovery of this, near botched, procedure it occurred to me that the odds of me ever getting pregnant again might have become very slim.

Fast forward 6 years and I’m married and pregnant with my first child, Kassidi. Having not yet told a soul about my abortions, and certainly having not accepted Gods forgiveness or having the ability to even forgive myself, I was positive God would end this pregnancy for me. I know it’s not how He works. But my heart wasn’t working quite right, either.

Fast forward eight months and I’m delivering Kassidi one month early. I acknowledged the possibility that God may take her from me right then. He may let me see her then snatch her fast away. My rationale…she would be safer with Him – not me. Not someone who was capable of, and who had, short-changed lives in the past.

But He didn’t. He could have. He had every right. But, He didn’t.

Why? Because, thankfully, He does not think, or work, like we think or work.

My childhood dream of becoming a mother came true. But I had no idea then that I would be capable of nearly destroying it. No, I didn’t see that kind of me in my little girl daydream.

I do not know why I have been blessed with these two children. I really don’t. But I do know this…they are the most beautiful gifts I have ever received. Most assuredly undeserved.

What about you…what have you been given in life that just blows your mind every time you think about it?

[Original post and comments here]