Posted in Healing

Changes

The only real constant in life is change. We continue down a path and we can’t go back. No do overs. Spending any time fretting, grieving, or beating ourselves up over poor choices only keeps the journey heavy, long and tedious. Full of self doubt, anger, depression, regrets, guilt, the list goes on.

It has taken me a very long time to learn the lesson of self forgiveness. It took some pretty devastating, heart wrenching, traumatic experiences to wake me up. At the point I wanted to die, God said NO!

He took me on a 4 year journey into a very deserted wilderness and showed me so many wondrous things. I am amazed at what He has done. Who He has taught me to become. I am closer to the person I have always dreamed of becoming. I honestly didn’t think I would ever be where I am today. He brought very special people into my life that have helped me in ways even they probably wouldn’t understand. I am beyond grateful. The “Stirrings” I once was a prisoner of, have now become answers to lifelong questions.

Stay Tuned, Stay Healthy

Sheri

Posted in Hope, Writing

Endurance

As I run…shedding tattered, bruised, no longer fitting old skin. Embrace a freedom freely given at a cost I cannot understand. Laying prostrate…wet falling from a gratitude welling. Breathless, deep, guttural “thank you” pales

Posted in Domestic Abuse, GRIEF, Trauma

Leaving is a process

woman looking at sea while sitting on beachWhy do some days seem so empty… the harshness of such loss has no words. This divorce was more…a death of a person I used to know, or I thought I knew. Not without 3 years of torment, anguish, abuse, shattered heart, tortured spirit, broken trust… even trust in myself, my judgement. I am the one, after all, that continued to put myself in harms way.

This time is different. His pleas for forgiveness are real… this time, his tears are real. What keeps the heart bound to an abuser? But he loves me, he tells me continually. Words…empty. Actions…screaming.

How long must leaving take?

 

Posted in Trauma, Writing

Abandoned

pexels-photo-745054.jpeg

Crying out blindly
Hoping someone will see
you drowning…

“Stepped out of line”,
I heard one say,
“I never would have asked that way”
frowning…

Fingers pointing, judgement calls
Job’s good friends
repeating

“Must have been
Something you’ve done”
echoed in their greeting