Church Pews

June 3 0900

I woke this morning to find a tiny little black face with oversize eyes staring into mine from a couple of inches away. With a head tilt, I kid you not, BlackJack gave what I've come to understand as his signature 'meow.' It is a cross between the scratch of sandpaper and the gravelly voice of a lifetime smoker. Reminds me of the roar of a young lion cub, comical but you know one day it will be a mighty roar. Ah I love this little creature, him and SlimJim help me get up in the mornings and start my day. I may shuffle even stumble (ok not really haha) but I make my way down the hallway and the promise of coffee. I started the coffee pot, squirrelled out and started watering the two flowers I am trying my very level best not to kill. I had planned on hitting the power button on the coffee pot and then going to see if SlimJim was waiting at the back door, but ya know... squirrel ha. I heard his meow as I was cutting off dead leaves and giving a laugh I went to open the door. With two cats to deal with I turned and went back to the promise of coffee. I hit start and grabbing the sugar container I heard the water running through the coffee pot and oh shit, I forgot to put a cup under the stream. Sigh. I am contending with believing that I can manage on my own and that I am not stupid and useless like he said I am. So many harsh words. He knew my mother had Vascular Dementia that essentially turned into Alzheimers or mimicked it very closely and that my Granny Smith had Alzheimer's so he had for some time been using that to demean me. I told him to stop once, in no uncertain terms and with not a little anger behind the calmly spoken words. Sadly I paid dearly for talking to him that way as I underwent 2 hours +of him verbally attacking me. But I had made myself that promise, remember? The promise of standing for myself. I did get wiser in the how and the when I did but it was a knee jerk reaction and no matter what, it needed to be said.

I will NOT undergo that change, I am of sound mind and I will profess that to the day I die. I truly believe that my mom spoke those words over herself and had such fear that she would have Alzheimers that in the end her brain gave her what she had been speaking. The mind is a powerful force and we can use it for positive or negative. I truly believe that. So.... that rather long explanation is to give a slight background on where my mind goes. I have to remind myself daily, sometimes hourly, that the brain fog and issues are from the extreme levels of abuse and mind control and manipulation, not Alzheimers.

Do not give up dear hearts, there is a light at the end of this long road. The road out is filled with pitfalls and dangers but once out, it is filled with hope. Oh it isn't easy but it is no longer filled with the abuse and the exhaustion of constantly living in fear; dealing with HIS emotions, HIS hurts, HIS pain, HIS wants and HIS needs. You get me? The incredible weight of that is gone!

I am experiencing loneliness, anger, resentment, frustration, sorrow and so much more but they are now mine to do with as I please. It is no longer a road I travel with my abuser. Instead a new road stretches out before me with endless possibilities. And its freaking scary at times. Why? well let me try to explain how it feels for me.

Have you ever watched an animal set free that has been behind bars and in a cage its whole life? It takes time for that animal to leave its prison. Even though freedom lies at their feet they do not immediately spring out the door. It takes much coaxing and encouragement, even longer if they're an animal of the wild. The handlers must stand back and just.... wait. Once they are out those animals walk slowly and carefully, sniffing out the surroundings for danger and looking back at the cage like it is their refuge. Perhaps some of you will say that we are not animals, we do not have the same mindset but I would disagree. We have been shaped into the most basic of animal beings.

We dream of freedom but do not know how to manage it when we finally get the escape we dreamed of. There is a strange sense of safety that comes with being a captor. I talked with a prisoner once, under my care as a paramedic. He had been out of prison for only 2 days and had committed a crime in order to get back in. He had for so long been in jail that he did not know how to function in a free society. He shared with me that he did not know how to live outside so he was going back in.

There was the Ootsa incident back in September of 2020. I had gotten back with my abuser once again and we had been together for a week or so when we decided to go camping. One of my sons and I speak (especially back then)or text most days and that weekend I went 4 days without talking to him and after two days he became worried. He ended up asking my daughter to talk to the police. He had a bad feeling you see and 'knew' something was wrong. Of course when I didn't respond to his texts it must have seemed strange, however, I believe that he has the gift of sight handed down from his great-Granny Smith as he was convinced that something had happened to me. He wasn't wrong. When he felt it the strongest, I was fighting for my life.

One day I will tell a story of my grandmothers gift as where it took place is now a ghost town.

Onward. When my daughter talked with the RCMP (our Canadian police force for those of you outside of Canada) and he heard of who I was seeing, he told her not to expect me back as I was with a high risk offender. My heart still breaks and weeps for my children having to go through that, especially that one son, as he feels everything so very deeply.

I tell this story because my daughter was asked by the police officer if her mother had been abused before. It was unusual for someone with my career and confidence to be in such a relationship. She had replied that no, this was a first. When she related the story and conversations between herself and the police my heart just sank to the bottom of the deepest ocean in my heart and mind. I was so glad that she did not know, truly know what I had gone through but also so sorrowful for the child I had been before it all began. It began first as a child, then with her father, and the x boyfriend before.

All abusive in different ways but every last one of them sociopaths and psychopaths. My childhood groomed me for my future relationships. Perhaps that sounds far fetched, even to my own ears it just sounds wrong ,but I went from one narcissistic relationship to the next and each one was worse than the one that came before it. Until I came upon the Worst of the bunch. A Monster. There, I've said it. My heart cries for that lost and broken child but..... the truth is, he has and had chosen at a young age to become the monster he is today. Instead of choosing to help others, to love and to forgive, he chose to become the one in control. The one who dealt out the hurt and pain so he didn't have to feel it.

What these broken people do not realize is that they experience hurt anyway, that true healing comes from helping and loving those around us.

And that brings me to the title of todays blurb blog.

Church Pews. I was listening to a song today of loss and pain.

'Truth Be Told' by Matthew West.

A beautiful song about no longer hiding our truths however painful they may be, that if more people did this the church pews would be full. My first thought was that (I was raised in the church, raised my own children in the church so keep that in mind before judging please!) instead of going to church every sunday to hear more sermons we should be telling all those church goers to come in regular clothes so they can get dirty. Then walking out the talk, and doing practical work. Helping those in need, whether it's cleaning houses, backyards, building a shed for the grama/grandpa who struggle to move most days, feeding the hungry homeless downtown in the slums and on and on. We could accomplish much, and our children would learn true giving, true love for others. Oh, it can be a wonderful thing to go and sing and fellowship but we're all there because we are already believers in Christ. What about all those outside the walls of the church who need assistance?

Why are we sitting on our collective butts? I place myself in the same category, believe me. If you read the New Testament, you will see that Jesus Christ did anything but that. He had the sermon on the mount and sometimes it is necessary to hear the word in that way. However, I have learned more from talking with others, especially my elders in the church than I ever ever have sitting and listening to one more sermon I've heard a million times before. At some point we must walk out what we've been hearing.

I Beseech you brethren (men and ladies) to think on this :)

Please hear my heart when I say that I know how easy it is to get caught up in life and routine and the pleasure of belonging to a group of people. Their is NO judgement here just thoughts of how it could be and how wonderful it would be to see people get the practical help they need.

I leave you with these thoughts and welcome yours in return! in the meantime, please be safe and take care of you too.

'Behold, I am sending you out like sheep in the midst of wolves; be wary and wise as serpents, and be innocent (harmless, guileless, and without falsity) as doves.' Matthew 10:16.

God bless you and keep you safe.