Adrift...

Adrift...lost on a sea of thought reaching to the far horizon and beyond...to the east and west, to the north and south...my mind reaches out in hope, in faith...searching for a safe place to land, to touch down upon and rest my weary self. Set the oars in the oarlock, climb onto terra firma...dig my bare toes into the warm, wet sand...and breathe, just breathe as I take in all that God has made. Many times a day I look about me and wonder, second-guess, retrace the steps that have led me to this point and I think...again...what am I doing here, how am I here in this strange unfamiliar land?

Many moons have waxed and waned since I stepped out, stepped away and still I wonder at the journey and my place in this world...daily, moment by moment. One day I will belong again...one day I will stand and survey all the good that has come into my life since that fateful moment in time. One day I will look at all that God has done and I will stand in awe, in gratefulness for the miracles I have witnessed first hand. I perch on this narrow path and take a second, a whisper of a breath, to glimpse back at the crystal clear frozen-in-time moments that showcase my brush with the miraculous...with the near-death feel of something more, something angelic, something mighty and powerful beyond our understanding.

I do not know why God spared me...kept me in this life to breathe through another minute, another hour, another day....but I stand here today because of His intervention, over and over and over again. I dare you to disbelieve, to scoff at what you may perceive as fanciful musings...unless you have walked a day, no...a moment in the shoes of someone who has been on the edge of the dark abyss and looked the grim reaper in the baleful eye, you must not mock, nor scorn.

I have listened to story...after story...after story, that would give chills...goosebumps would run the entirety of your body to hear, a portion only, of what these women have experienced. It is a cruel world to the weaker sex....that is not meant to take away from the strength of women, for there are many who are frighteningly and most awesomely strong...and the thought that runs through minds when I speak this way, and I know this because I have heard it from so many, is this...'I would never put up with that....' or 'I would fight back...' or 'why didn't you just leave?'

Strong...confidant...driven...buoyantly optimistic....the parts that comprise your spirit, your soul....shattered into so many pieces that it is nigh on impossible to collect them all and put them back to resemble the person you were before. Before the event...after the event....this my friends, so closely follows the thought patterns of the traumatized.

Naive? Ignorant? Uneducated? Gullible? Weak? All adjectives thought to surround women (and men) in abusive situations.

In truth...nothing could be further from the truth...The Truth...shall set you free. Free from misconceptions and misunderstandings regarding victims of abuse.

I've mentioned it before, many times, that they come from all walks of life, from all races, all religions. The percentage of women to men is high, the comparison jaw-dropping...women are the primary target area....nurses, doctors, police officers, surgeons, business women, paramedics...the clerk at the medical office, the funny and sweet Tim Hortons worker, the waitress at the favourite watering hole....they live and breathe and walk among us handing out kindnesses, not despite the heavy burden they carry, but because of it.... They walk among you...asking nothing, expecting nothing.......hoping everything.

For every new person I meet and have the honour of hearing their very personal and unique journey, I am struck by their resolve to live, to love and to grow.

My need to deliver words that will lead you to a fuller understanding of survivors is monstrous... a living, breathing need to convey the message that these women (and men) are true life heroes we come in contact with everyday. I am reminded moment by moment of all that I aspire to one day be... humbled and in awe of these warriors. The need for understanding for....them, they....those people walking around with gaping wounds, fresh scars and a crippling weight of sorrow that never quite goes away... One woman....25 years later....tells the story, recites the habitual daily tasks created during that tumultuous torment that live with her to this day. Another...joyful yet stained so with the events two years prior that, in her words, is as though wearing coloured glasses to view the world with.... And yet another breaking down in tears in the telling of a story set ten years prior....

Go gently dear friends....go gently. Kindness given freely costs us nothing, but provides everything. I often wish I could be a fly on the wall to see where those words of affirmation take them, what heights Love will elevate them to...witness the climb out of the pit they've been thrown in to. This I know....each word, each affirmation, each moment of compassion and understanding, has lifted my spirits from the depths...enabled my climb out of the valley of bones and into the bright light of hope.

Go with God dear survivors...dearest lost and broken victims in the midst.... I pray for your safety...for your sanity...I pray that God makes a way out of the desert and into the promised land. For you are promised abundance...promised life, love and liberty. Liberty....freedom from the fear you feel in each moment...free to choose your way, free to pursue your dreams, your aspirations. Hold on to those promises...hold on to life....hold on to love...you are worthy of so much more.