Category Archives: On Writing

The Magic and Beauty of Words

Standard

From the very beginning of time words have been used to transact business and communicate our thoughts to others. We even use words when we talk to ourselves ~ at least I do, anyway. And God used words when He spoke the universe into existence. For example,

And God said, “Let there be light…” ~ Genesis 1:3, KJV.

And God said, “Let the earth bring forth grass, the herb yielding seed, and the fruit tree yielding fruit…”  ~ Genesis 1:11, KJV.

And God said, “Let us make man in our image…” ~ Genesis 1:26, KJV.

Plus God gave us His Word, The Bible, which is His love letter to us, and the King James Version is comprised of 783,137 words.

All of this is to say that words are powerful, and can be used for good or, conversely, for evil, to hurt and (emotionally) maim,

People can tame all kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and fish, but no one can tame the tongue. It is restless and evil, full of deadly poison. Sometimes it praises our Lord and Father, and sometimes it curses those who have been made in the image of God. And so blessing and cursing come pouring out of the same mouth. Surely, my brothers and sisters, this is not right! ~ James 3:7-10, NLT.

We use words to describe the beauty of a sunset, and out of the same mouth, we bully our neighbor, who we perceive as being less than we are.

I would venture to say that any human being who was created in the image of God, (and that’s every single person on the face of the earth), regardless of what they look like to us, cannot be ugly, and instead of bullying that person, and saying ugly things to them, we need to speak with love to them, and be a friend to them, and if they are bullying others, then we need to pray for them.

And lest we forget, Jesus Christ the Messiah is the ultimate Word,

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made...And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth. ~ John 1:1-3, 14 NKJV.

Jesus is The Word, and He is beauty personified. Witness the beauty inherent in this passage from Hebrews,

Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days He has spoken to us by His Son, whom He appointed the heir of all things, through whom also He created the world. He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of His nature, and He upholds the universe by the word of His power. After making purification for sins, He sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become as much superior to angels as the name He has inherited is more excellent than theirs. ~ Hebrews 1:1-4, ESV.

I love this passage of Scripture, because it talks of the supremacy of Christ, and it does so with such beauty and power that I can see what it’s describing in my mind. And where it says in verse 3 that Jesus, “upholds the universe by the word of His power…,” I like to switch it around so it says, “and the power of His word.” I don’t think it’s wrong to do that, because the words of Christ are powerful. His words created the whole universe, as well as creating you and me, and He spoke it into existence out of nothing, as it says in Romans 4,

That is what the Scriptures mean when God told him, “I have made you the father of many nations.” This happened because Abraham believed in the God who brings the dead back to life and who creates new things out of nothing. ~ Romans 4:17, NLT.

So you see, words are amazing little things. They can be used to hurt or to heal, to describe beauty or to chronicle ugliness, to incite violence or to bring peace, to speak love or express hate. It’s up to us which kind of words we choose to use: loving or hateful, peaceful or violent, beautiful or ugly, hurtful or healing.

I’d like to share the most beautiful words on love ever written, taken from God’s Word,

Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance. ~ 1 Corinthians 13:4-7, NLT.

The cool thing about this passage is that you can ruminate on it, substituting your name for the word “love”, and you will find yourself changing to become more loving as you do that. I’ve done it and it works. God’s Word is alive,

For the Word of God is alive and powerful. It is sharper than the sharpest two-edged sword, cutting between soul and spirit, between joint and marrow. It exposes our innermost thoughts and desires. ~ Hebrews 4:12, NKJV.

In closing I’d like to share my favorite thing about words in general, and about the Bible in particular, because, in case you haven’t figured it out, the Bible is my favorite Book, my most treasured Set of Words, if you will, and it’s a passage of Scripture,

As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is My word that goes out from My mouth: It will not return to Me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it. ~ Isaiah 55:10-11, NIV.

 

My Head Is an Oven and Words Are Boiling Over

Standard

This evening, frustration has been building up to the point that I want to break something or hit myself, and since neither one of those options is available to me, I decided to see if writing about it would help. Writing is a better outlet for my feelings anyway, especially negative feelings.

Stuff gets pent up inside with no outlet, and I don’t know what to do with it. I certainly can’t hit myself, neither can I break stuff. It feels like I’m flying apart at the seams, like I’m dropping pieces of myself all around me as I get more and more vexed and aggravated.

So I decided to try an experiment. Instead of allowing entropy to take effect in my mind as a result of the frustration, I would try writing. I tried it a few days ago and it seemed to work rather well, so I thought I’d try it again.

This could be a whole new era of healing for me, because, as I said in my last post, Not So Bad After All, the fact that I’m writing about it instead of doing the other, not so functional things, is a definite step of growth and progress. And I love knowing that I’m growing and healing with God’s help. That’s very exciting to me, and it’s the whole purpose of this blog, and part of my reason for being, the other part being to love God and enjoy Him forever.

I think part of the stress that’s been building inside has to do with what I’m talking about in therapy with McT. Awhile ago I told him that I was giving him permission to confront me if he thought I was avoiding talking about the issues that are most difficult for me to deal with ~ the sexual stuff. So together we nicknamed those topics “the hard stuff,” and now he regularly asks me if there’s any “hard stuff” I need to talk about.

I so appreciate him for that! It helps to keep me focused, and it keeps me from wandering off into denial and foolishness, and meandering around on topics I don’t need to talk about. It also helps me to build trust in McT, because I have to trust that he’s a safe person for me to talk with about the hard stuff. I’ve never had a therapist who I felt was safe enough to talk with about the hard stuff, so I wasted a whole lot of time and money resisting therapy, and resisting the process over the years.

Fortunately, I’ve grown enough, and healed enough with God’s help, that I feel less and less like I need to avoid talking about the hard stuff, and I’m feeling like I can trust McT more all the time. So now, when I go to therapy, I can realistically pray for a productive session, and know that God will be there, helping me to talk about what needs to be talked about, regardless of how difficult it is. I’ve always prayed before my therapy sessions, but because I was only rarely fully in the game and not resisting, the answers were inconsistent at best ~ not from God’s perspective, but because of me.

Now that I’ve pretty much finished what I have to say here, I’m feeling much better. My head no longer feels like a boiling pot overflowing with words, thankfully. So I guess my little experiment worked.

Way cool and praise God!

Writing About Not Being Able to Write

Standard

Of course, by starting out with that title, and then writing about it, by definition, I’m putting the lie to my title, because I’m writing, which I just said I wasn’t able to do. Kind of silly I suppose, but I had to do something to make myself start producing words again.

It’s so frustrating when you have all these ideas roiling and running around inside your head, but you can’t get them out onto paper. I think the common phrase for it is writer’s block. I’ve got a list of about six different ideas that I’m working on for eventual use here, but I can’t seem to develop any of them enough for publication.

So here I am, rambling, in an effort to write something, anything, because that’s what I do. I blog. And if I’m not writing, I’m not blogging.

I mean, the purpose of this blog is to help survivors of child abuse see that it’s possible to emerge victorious, with God’s help, from the hell that was perpetrated on them by evil and selfish others, and if I’m not posting then the information I have to offer isn’t getting out there.

Of course that begs the question, am I offering information that’s actually helping? Is what I say here bringing glory to God, as well as providing anything of substantive value for those who might need it? I certainly hope so, because if it’s not, then I need to change what I’m doing here ~ or stop doing it altogether.

But I don’t want to stop. For one thing I love to write. Writing used to be so difficult for me, worse than pulling teeth, because of one of my alters, named Secret, when I was multiple. I had another alter, named The Secretary, whose job it was to chronicle the goings-on of my system ~ my internal life, if you will, and she too loved to write. But The Secretary and Secret worked at cross purposes to each other all the time, and Secret was much stronger than The Secretary, so The Secretary was always being stifled.

And Secret had good reason to keep us from writing, because The Secretary wanted to write about what the cult was doing to us, as well as about Harry’s abuse, and of course, that absolutely could not be allowed. Harry had been threatening to kill us if we talked for years, so Secret’s efforts to keep us silent were probably keeping us alive as well.

Now that I’m no longer multiple, and I’m no longer being abused, there’s nothing hindering me from writing. So if I can’t write, there must be something else stopping me ~ but I don’t know what it could be. I certainly did get a whole lot written for someone who isn’t able to write, however. Thus far I’ve written 533 words.

Pretty good, I think, considering I’m not able to write. I wonder how many I could write if I was able to write. The thought boggles the mind, but at least I’ve written something I can post. I don’t know if it’s worth anything, and I don’t know if it will help anyone, but it’s better than nothing at all.

Secret’s Delight

Standard

I’ve been wanting to write something, anything, for several days, but the words have eluded me, nasty things. They’ve been just beyond my grasp.

As if words were living things…

Which they’re not, but they feel alive when I can’t find them to get them down on paper. They’re certainly alive in my mind at least.

It’s frustrating when I can’t write, because it feels like the words are trapped inside with no way out. Kind of like me throughout my childhood. In fact, when I was multiple I had an alter whose name was Secret who kept me from writing. It was her job to keep things secret and hidden from me, and I almost always found it extremely difficult to write because of her activity inside. She kept the words hidden behind blank thoughts and clouded minds; in other words, general confusion ~ something I experienced a lot of back then.

Thankfully, since God integrated me in 2003, the confusion is almost completely gone, and lately, I’ve been able to write almost prolifically ~ at least prolifically for me, if the number of entries here is any indication. I haven’t been able to write poetry, which is disappointing, but hopefully that will come with time.

I love writing poetry. It makes me feel free. There’s something about being able to write like that, even though it’s highly structured (I like writing poetry that rhymes), that makes me feel brilliant and uninhibited.

Maybe that sounds a little arrogant because I said that something makes me feel brilliant. Let me explain. Poetry is something that’s fairly new for me. Most of my life I couldn’t make sense of poetry, much less write it. It was a complete mystery to me. Then in September of 1989 I went on a retreat with other abuse victims, and while I was there I met a couple of women who were survivors of Satanic Ritual Abuse.

As they were talking about their experiences, what they were saying resonated with me, and I began to wonder if SRA was a part of my background. The thought of it terrified and horrified me. What I’d already remembered was appalling and shocking. To think that the adults in my life, who I was supposed to be able to trust, were guilty of such heinous crimes was beyond my comprehension, much less that they could be guilty of the kinds of crimes that were perpetrated on children by people in satanic cults.

So I came home from that retreat and wrote my first poem. It was called, prosaically enough, My First Pome. It wasn’t very good, but it was a start, and given that I’d never written anything remotely like that before, I think it was incredible. Here it is:

My First Pome

 I want to write poetical,

                             but how do I start?

The words are tangled up

and trapped in my heart.

If I open the door

they’ll come tumbling out,

Jumbled up letters

through an itty-bit spout.

I wrote that on October 1, 1989, and I’ve been able to write poetry ever since. Also, interestingly, I’ve been able to understand others’ poetry as well, something that just thrills me. Back in 2010 I was able to take a writing class at UC Irvine where we had to write a paper on T.S. Eliot’s The Four Quartets. We each had to pick one of the four quartets, and write a paper on the role of time in that quartet. And I was able to complete the assignment! In fact, I discovered things in the poem that the professor hadn’t seen! How cool is that? God is so good! I had so much fun writing that paper!

So that’s my poetry-writing history. I haven’t been able to write any poetry for awhile, but I don’t expect the gift God gave me has gone away for good. I don’t know what’s blocking it, but if it’s like the rest of my writing, I’m hoping it’ll come back once the block has been removed. I’m hoping God will show me what’s blocking it and help me get it back.

Everything And Nothing All At The Same Time…

Standard

This will probably be a hodgepodge of everything and nothing all at the same time. I’m having a terrible time with hitting myself, and I’m trying not to, but failing miserably.

Kim suggested a new web browser, called Brave, that promises ultra-secure browsing on the internet, plus freedom from ads, and I’ve tried it. I like it, but it’s SOOO ultra-secure that I can’t use any of the websites I usually use, because Brave blocks JavaScript, whatever that is, from being enabled, and if JavaScript isn’t enabled then the website won’t load, and you can’t do anything with it. And that includes this blog. So until I figure out the ins and outs and the technicalities of Brave, I’m going to be stuck using Safari.

And for now, I’ll have to post this as is, because I have to write about something that’s much more pressing, but I don’t want to just toss this out and forget about it. I can come back later and add more to it as the Spirit leads, and as I feel like it.

New Directions…

Standard

I’m feeling more and more like I need to write SOMETHING every day. If I want to be a writer then I have to write. I have to practice the craft of writing on a regular basis. Even if it’s nothing better than sheer blather, at least I’ll be putting words to [digital] paper. Plus, if I want to have a blog that I’m willing to publish and that people desire to read and follow, then I have to give them something to read on a regular basis, and it has to be something meaningful enough that they’ll come back for more, and bring their friends along for the ride as well. It also has to be something that’s interesting enough to me that I want to keep on doing it.

I can use this as a multipurpose blog: it can a place to practice my writing, as well as a forum for me to talk about issues that are important to me. In addition I can use it for the purpose for which I originally intended it, which was to help me work out my childhood abuse issues. And besides all that, once I’m posting on a consistent basis, I’ll start publishing my posts, which means I would publish my posts on my Facebook feed and possibly my Twitter feed, something I’ve never done before.

So…

With that in mind, let the words come!