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Blog Introduction

This blog is the story of how my husband and I faced the illness and death of two of our children. Each blog post is essentially a chapter in the story, so in order to truly understand it, you are going to benefit by starting at the beginning.
I hope you find our story touching, and in some way find comfort and hope through it as you face your own storms in life.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Back to School

The time I had spent writing out Bible verses at Karen's house was time well spent. After two and a half years of full-time effort getting my life back, an urge to study the Bible once again pushed it's way into my life. With a Bachelor's degree in Psychology and Sociology already tucked under my belt, I began looking for a school where I could take classes toward a Master's degree in Biblical Counseling. All the traditional schools I was aware of didn't seem to be what I was searching for, so for a few days, the internet became my friend as I searched for the perfect place.  It didn't take long.  One school repeatedly drew my attention; Christian Leadership University.  They offered various levels of degrees in multiple tracts, had on-line options, and matched my personal beliefs to a tee. For the first time in a long time, I was excited about engaging in a "God activity"! This was something for me; something I chose to do. It would be good to stretch my brain again, and work on my relationship with God. I knew CLU was where I was supposed to be. Little did I know at the time how God would use this school as a catalyst for change in my life; bringing me closer to reconciliation with Him, and my past.

I completed all the necessary paperwork, turned in my money, and eagerly awaited shipment of my first course, "Communion With God".  God knew that deep inside I still desired to be reconnected to Him, and have communion with Him. As much as I wanted the reunion, I remained terrified of approaching Him for fear that doing so would render me a helpless victim of some future trauma lying just around the corner.  It would, in my eyes, give Him permission to bring pain into my life again.  That seemed like pure insanity.

In this course, students were to journal what they believed God spoke to them during quiet times of prayer.
I was not excited about this requirement.  Still harboring anger and feeling the wounds of perceived rejection, I wasn't sure I would hear from God at all, and even if I did, I wasn't sure I wanted to hear anything He had to say.  More likely, I was afraid that the words He'd speak to me would confirm His character and love for me, and I was still the hurt little girl hiding in the corner, withdrawing from the love of the One she believed had hurt her. I was ready to begin reestablishing limited communication with Him, but I wasn't ready to accept His love for me again.  It was easier to stay hiding with my face to the wall, than to face the Healer. It was easier to stomp my feet and show my displeasure, than to turn and confront the pain I knew He would lead me to; the path of pain I would have to walk in order to get to my healing.

In addition, I continued to struggle with re-entering the church world.  I was still trying to figure out how to "fit in", now that I was different.  Not only was the depression a factor, but all the things we had walked through over the previous years had opened our eyes to many things. Our fundamental beliefs hadn't changed, but the way we approached and treated people had changed drastically. Our sensitivity to others had increased a thousand-fold, and we seemed to feel every word aimed at wounding other souls. My difficulty with the "victory" comment weeks earlier left me wondering if I'd ever feel "normal" again, and I began to realize I needed help working through this adjustment.  I began praying in earnest for God to show me who I could go to, because in my perspective, no one was "safe". It almost felt like my prayers were pointless. But God brought one name to my mind over and over.  "Go to Dawn." 

Dawn was one of the pastors at our church.  She had been through rough waters herself and emerged whole; a beacon of hope for people sinking in various mires of pain.  I knew the demands on Dawn's time, and truthfully didn't believe I would get an appointment, so I was surprised and happy when she had an opening.  My intention was to simply get her advice on how to re-integrate back into our church; after all, I was taking classes and doing pretty well, otherwise.  But that was not to be the case.  God had chosen this vessel to lead me out of my deep cave of repressed memories. What I thought would be a couple of nice little meetings, turned into the final battle for my emotional and spiritual freedom.  I had a warrior on my side, and things were about to turn ugly.

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