So what happened, you ask, to provoke such a sadly bewildered post followed by several days of silence? I'll just copy and paste sections from emails with good friends explaining the situation, rather than type it all up again.

"I just had some drama with being let down by a person who promised to do a certain thing... my "adopted" (sorta related by marriage) uncle offered to send me money every month for these two medicines to help with my fibro and said he would be my med provider for life, but today I got an email saying that he got back together with a long distance girlfriend so he will be using his money for that instead. He was all up in arms because he had contacted me saying "hey, my girlfriend called and we got back together, so I want to split the money between you guys alternating months". I told him that the meds are a consistent thing, and it's gotta be all or nothing. I even floated the idea of his girlfriend coming to visit him.. you know, since he had already promised to help me. But then he responded with affrontery, saying that he was uncomfortable or hurt or something because it felt like I was making him choose between her or me. Um, hello?! You put me in that position!! So now he's written me off, choosing the girlfriend.

I just feel... abandoned. Disappointed. Like some hope for getting better has been taken away after I dared to get my hopes up... You know we can't afford the meds on our own. There are no generics for either of them, and the copay is high. So that's what's going on. It just brings up a bunch of stuff with trust and abandonment issues, you know? Especially because he literally said, "I choose D. See you later." Ouch.

He had said all of this "I love you so much, you're my favorite niece, you light up my life, I'm so happy to be helping you out", etc. And now I don't know if I can believe any of it... because the moment that things got uncomfortable him (by his own fault, he shouldn't have promised if he couldn't make good on it... or if he was just going to take it back) he dropped me like a hot potato. Where's the love now?

I guess what makes me the angriest is that I never asked for this. He offered, from the beginning. He pushed the issue. I accepted his help a little uncomfortably, because it's hard for me to accept help.. and I even told him this. I was very honest about my guilt with receiving help from people, especially when money is involved. And now my past has been validated. Again. Accepting help from people just gets you screwed over and hurt. (I know, intellectually and from the work I've done and the books I've read that it's not true but... it has been proven so true in my life, it's hard not to believe it.)

So yeah. I trusted an older male, not exactly a father figure, and I was hurt and abandoned. Again. And I accepted help, against all my inner precautions against it... and I was dropped and left behind. I don't think that any of this was through any fault of my own, but then it never is, is it?

Bleh."

J responded with, "Ugh this makes me so angry too..

I'm sorry. No, you didn't deserve this. At all. I don't know him at all or any circumstances, but he sounds like a jerk. At any rate, he sure treated you harshly and thoughtlessly. Perhaps he somehow really doesn't understand what a big deal his offer was? I dunno. I don't want to defend him. (Well, I kinda do because it's so hard to imagine someone being so unkind to you!) 

He had no business to make an offer like that and then take it back for such a DUMB reason! Seriously. Dumb. What kind of girlfriend is this, anyways, that he has to send her money?!?"

"He's not sending her money, he's going to visit her because it's a long-distance relationship. I suggested that maybe she could come to visit him, and that's when I got the "break up" email LOL.

I dunno if he's a jerk, per se... he has cerebral palsy, so I don't think his social skills are exactly up to par. But he had been going on several times about how happy he was to be helping me, and about how he had been wanting to help someone for a while but no one would let him or he couldn't find someone or something, but now he could help me and he was so happy about it. And now... this.

C said that he didn't think he was too stable to begin with. I guess not. He's kinda gone back and forth on the thing a little the past few weeks before this. I just didn't really see it, because I was a lot closer to the situation... and so hopeful.

I don't think he did understand what a big deal his offer was... though I was very honest with him about how hard it was for me accept help. He shoulda got it.

Thanks for standing up for me :) It makes me feel good to know you've got my back. I posted a facebook status in the midst of my anger and hurt yesterday that said "I'm broken. I'm done, and I don't care anymore.", and I got three private messages and a bunch of affirming, sympathetic, and supportive comments. One of my friends, after learning what happened, offered to send me some money to help with the med costs. I thanked her but turned her down, because it's a monthly thing you know. But I do feel super affirmed and supported."

After responding to the "break up" email, he responded with an apologetic letter and later pled for me to give him another chance to try to make this work. I turned him down, because now I see that I can't rely on him to be stable or consistent. As J pointed out in another correspondence, I shouldn't doubt his sincerity, just his ability to follow through on this. So we're still "friends", or uncle and niece, or whatever, but... it has still taken a toll on me, even though it got straightened out.

I've mentally worked through this, but my emotions have been kinda haywire since, and I've been very restless and almost jittery. The past two days I overdid it by far with cleaning and organizing, but it was like I had/have this pathological need to just stay busy and keep doing, doing, doing. It's not the Should Monster, as M made that distinction, but it's more of a driving need to just... I dunno. Not be helpless? To do something? To be in control of a measure of my life again? Regardless, I felt the effects of overdoing it today with a very low level of spoons and some other unpleasant symptoms that cropped up after I accidentally used up all of my energy this morning. 

On the bright side, I did my makeup today (eye shadow, liner, mascara, lipstick, the whole nine yards!) and I looked hot, especially now that I'm a redhead :) (Doing the makeup is part of what took up so much energy, especially because I also showered, and I had to stand for both of these activities.) While I was in the parking lot of the library today, a stranger doubled back to talk to me, and told me that he hoped I didn't think him presumptuous but that I was beautiful. (He also said he had a thing for redheads lol) It really made me smile, especially because I was on the cusp of throwing up, so I didn't feel all that beautiful at the moment! So I smiled at him and wished him a great day. It was nice. Very nice. Especially because I've been a bit insecure about my appearance lately, having put on weight. It's hard when you go from being quite skinny to chunkier, because you've got that image of what you looked like before that you're comparing yourself to. It's hard for me to see past that and look at myself objectively to realize that I am, indeed, attractive... even with a thicker waist. On the bright side, my bosom has also increased, and C is a boob man, so that works out well.

C assures me that I'm still sexually attractive, and I'm glad for that. It's about time for me to hit the hay, so maybe I'll go see if I can get him to prove it...

I don't know what to believe.

I'm researching articles on whether food allergies can be cured or not, and it's literally almost an "every other" response- Yes, No, Yes, No.

Actually, many of the places state that food allergies are caused by "leaky gut", which is where the intestines are damaged and allow food particles to get into the bloodstream, causing an immune response. So, the theory goes, if you can fix your leaky gut, you can fix your food allergies.

Really?

Really?

Can it be that simple?

Is that why I developed food allergies?

I dunno, but I found a good (legit) article on how chronic stress induces intestinal hypersensitivity. Seriously, this quote just grabs my attention: "...Yang and colleagues demonstrate that, in a genetically susceptible host, stress contributes to the development of food allergies by increasing transepithelial permeability in a corticotropin-releasing hormone (CRH)-dependent fashion.⁵ Their report offers convincing data to support their earlier groundbreaking observations that stress may alter epithelial function."

Hah! I knew it! And where do corticotropin-releasing hormones come from? Why, the hypothalamus, in response to stress. It's a peptide hormone and a neurotransmitter (affects the body/tissues and the brain). That makes sense, since the hypothalamus is the "crossover" between the brain and body. (By the way, my theory about my damaged hypothalamus has since been de-bunked. It's just way more likely that my problems are due to chronic sympathetic nervous system dominance, which led to adrenal insufficiency and hypothyroidism and intestinal hypersensitivity/food allergies and possibly depression.)

My teacher "Doc" (who actually is an M.D., btw) and I were talking about that last week. In class (we're covering the endocrine system right now), he brought out that the way to heal adrenal insufficiency is rest, lots of rest. And in our private conversation, he emphasized that I need to get out of sympathetic dominance and into parasympathetic dominance, because the parasympathetic system is the restorative one. Sympathetic is "fight or flight", keyed up, ready for action, pumping out those stress hormones... and that's where I've lived. Yeah, my whole life. No, I'm not exaggerating.

I've been thinking about making a timeline of my life one of these days. I just kind of want to see it all lain out in front of me. For objectivity's sake.

Anyway, back to the article...

Here's hoping!

1. Cry. A lot. Not those little sissy tears, either, that dramatic one-tear-down-the-cheek. No, I'm talking a good old fashioned bawling and gasping and keening your grief until you're weak in the knees and you can barely stand.

2. Pray. Somehow. For something. Even if you are not sure it'll do anything. They don't even have to be coherent words. (Many people choose to combine steps one and two.)

3. Bring someone you trust in the room to catch you when you keel over, to hold your arms down to keep you from hurting yourself (and them),  to remind you to breathe and keep you from hyperventilating, and to slap you in the face with truthful statements. Trust me-- you'll need that.

4. Talk about it.

5. Sleep on it. You're way too emotionally wiped to do anything else, even though you don't feel like sleeping.

6. Somewhere between steps 1 and 5, have a cup of tea to calm you down. It works wonders.

7. Blog about it. Even if you can't find the words, and can barely bear to obliquely reference what's going on, it still helps to get even a speck of the turmoil out, or at least to break through the numbing haze that you're wandering around in.

8. Cry some more. At any time. Really, it's okay. Expected, even.

9. Do what you gotta do. In this case (hello, unexpected twist), it's going door to door.

At least, this is what I did last night and today.

I was doing fine yesterday morning and early afternoon, but when I came home from work something twisted inside of me, and I just crashed. I was depressed, and a few things after that contributed to a desperate, sad kind of mood. I was trying to be optimistic and look on the positive side, and I could see good things, but the mood just wouldn't go away.

Went out to dinner with L and some of her friends, and I ate soy. Quite a bit of it. So I wasn't feeling well when I got home, not to mention that E was texting me about work stuff and for some reason I was really annoyed by it, so I made a strawberry glaze pie.

I texted C that I needed to talk to him, but when he got home I gave him the cold shoulder. I just didn't feel confident enough to broach the topics that I needed to, and I was feeling too down and "I just don't care anymore" to even try. I learned something last night-- C's automatic response when someone is upset is to leave them alone and figures they'll talk when they're ready. That's how he works. Mine is the opposite-- I want him to "come after me" when I'm upset, otherwise I feel like he doesn't care. But he was trying to care for me by giving me my space. Isn't that funny?

Anyway, when I finally did talk to him later, we discussed how I feel like I'm just part of the scenery to him now... and how we are basically ships in the night because of our different work and sleep schedules. He shared that he doesn't want to smother me and how he has been trying to take care of me because he doesn't want me to get burnt out by staying up super late with him. Oh, that man. I love him. (Even though I was so down yesterday that I contemplated leaving... again. That's me-- the runner. Sometimes I feel like I'm bipolar or something.)

So we agreed to have a "date night", a time for just us once a week, that way we'll be sure to be spending time with each other. He gets to choose what we do one week, I get to choose the next. I'm glad for that.

We didn't talk about that till after the crisis, though. I was grouching off to bed, when I heard my phone going off, and almost didn't get it.

It was my sister, K, and she was crying. I couldn't understand her at first, but I finally got the story out of her. She said that Mom and R were in the garage, and he was pushing her. When K went out to the garage to defend Mom from R ("Leave my Mom alone!!"), he grabber her by the shoulders and pushed her up against the wall, yelling at her. Mom told J to call the police, and she did. (It resulted in R being arrested, though he bonded out last night, with a 5 day no-contact order.)

I made sure K and the baby were ok (they were), and told her that I was sorry and that I wish I could just scoop them all up and bring them here. Apparently, that stuck out to her, because she mentioned that to Mom when she told me that she had called me. I told her that I couldn't do anything for her but pray with her, and would she like me to do that? She sniffled yes. I said, "Okay, let's pray right now," and she sniffled the affirmative again. I had managed to keep the tears back until I started praying, but then I lost it and was crying and trying to pray at the same time. I don't really remember what I said, but it was something along the lines of praying for their safety, for God to just wrap them up and love on them and to bring about healing and health. It helped her calm down some, and I stayed on the phone with her until the cops showed up.

After we hung up, I pretty much lost it. (Cue step 1.) I combined steps one and two, and implemented step 3 after a few minutes of solitary grieving. Though there had been tension between C and I (my fault), he practically leapt to my side when I opened the bedroom door, still crying, and asked him to come with me. Poor S... in typical guy fashion, he saw me crying and thought, "Girl crying? I'm out." He finally came out of his room a good forty five minutes to an hour later.

So C came in and held me up while I cried, then helped me over to the bed and just plain held me while I cried some more... tried to calm me down, then held me while I wracked my way through another bout of convulsive tears. I calmed down eventually, and then I was able to talk to him about what was bothering me earlier, and it was good.

Mom called a while later, after everything was said and done, and she straightened out some of the story for me. R had taken away her credit cards a few days ago, and was in her face, yelling at the top of his lungs about money, so she pushed him to get away, and he pushed her back, and so they had this pushing battle, I guess. That's when K came in, and while R was distracted, Mom mouthed to J to call the cops, which she did. Mom and R began having a sane, civilized conversation, but then the cops came. After hearing all sides of the story, they said they needed to arrest someone, and though Mom volunteered, they took R. The cop who spoke to Mom was miffed, esp. about R taking away her credit cards. He also brought up his concerns with the fact that she is the one who volunteered to be arrested. (As did I-- too much of what she says sounds like the abused ladies that come through our agency..) He did say, however, that the arrest won't affect R's job negatively.

Mom told me that R can be very giving and generous at times (like Christmas, when he offered to pay for my schooling), but when he feels like he's losing control, he turns into this super selfish miser. He tries to control everyone and everything around him, and Mom gets the brunt of that. She doesn't feel like she's herself anymore, because there are things about her that R doesn't like, so she's tried to change that... like her spontaneity, her joking, etc. She feels like she's lost a part of herself, and she's trying to get that back.

I told her that if she came to Y, the HJ would be more than happy to utilize her. She says she won't leave until J graduates from the school she's at now, though, because it's such an amazing school and J is doing so well there. That's my mom. She puts us kids first no matter what.

The worst part is that R was yelling at Mom, saying he has no money to pay the credit card bill because he just paid for my classes and spent a couple of hundred on my dentist bill, etc. So I feel like it's partially my fault, all this crazy mess... and I still have some doctor's bills that have showed up, but I'm not going to ask him to pay for them. I'll do it myself.

While in the initial stages of shock all I could think about, all I could say, was that... I'm their protector. I'm K's big sister. I'm supposed to be there for them, to keep them safe, but I couldn't. I didn't. I'm not there, I'm here, and there's nothing I can do. I failed them, somehow. (Ah, but C reminds me that it's not my fault, I didn't do this, and I can't stay at home my whole life, trying to protect them from everything. It's not my responsibility.)

I failed them by not being there, by not keeping them safe... and I failed them by trusting R.

How many father figures must I lose?

I've been betrayed.

I trusted him, and worse than that, I loved him.

This isn't the first time something like this has happened... and I told him I disapproved, strongly, but I still loved him.

Oh, God... it feels like the past is playing itself all over again...

I don't know what to think about him anymore. He was my dad, my father, the best one I've ever had... but he's hurting my family... crushing my mom's spirit slowly... What do I do with that?

Because I want to trust him... but I just don't know what to do anymore. It feels like I let the enemy into the camp, and now I'm kicking myself.

People make mistakes, but where do you draw the line?

And if Mom leaves? Do I still consider him my dad? What do I do with that? When he comes back in 4 days? The next time he calls me? Do I just pretend that I don't know? Do I say something? Do I stand up to him, call him out? What do I do?!?!?!???


It sucks to feel so responsible, yet to be so far away... the only thing I can do is pray, and I don't even know if that'll do anything.

Once again, I take away the lesson that it really is better to just never trust, never love... you only get betrayed, disappointed... again and again...

C vehemently denies this, of course.

And I keep asking him, "Are you sure we can make this work? Are you sure this is worth it?" It's just another example of that scenario where I think a marriage is functional, I think it's going to work, and then I find out that it's a lie.

Who gets married intending to get divorced? But who gets married and does more than just grimly stick it out, anyway? I want more than tight-lipped endurance. I want happy, healthy, and functional. Is marriage even real?

C is not like R. He and I both intend to go the distance... but doesn't everyone?

So I finally fell asleep around 4 or 5 this morning... I don't recall what time it was. Today, I've been mostly sad and heavy, pretty numb all day.

It's just like... fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu..... what's the point? Really, what is the point?

They're all abusers, aren't they?

Even the ones you love.

(I know, intellectually, that it's not my fault... but I still feel the heavy weight of responsibility for my little brood.)

Went to a new church this evening.

I was apprehensive, nervous... as usual. Am I doing the right thing? Should I even be bothering with this?
Yet I know that if I don't at least read the Bible and go to church once in a while, this whole "God" thing will be down the tubes.

So I went.

At first I was confused. Where do I go? Then I saw the sign for the entrance and made my way inside. The sanctuary was simply done in shades of grey and light wood paneling. The front wall was white, with multiple vertical lights scattered across its surface that lit up blue, making the whole thing look like a light shower of raindrops. Quite pleasant, really. I sank crosslegged into the grey chair furthest from the stage, but still felt a little uncomfortable. Until, that is, the music started. Then, it just washed over me-- this feeling of comfort, like This is good. I'm supposed to be here. I felt like I was in the right place, and I was glad.

The service was simple, yet heartfelt. No showy lights, no superficial gimmicks... just people who want to live life the way God intended it.

The sermon, however, threw me for a loop. They were going over the first chapter of 2 Thessalonians, and when the guy started talking about how suffering is part of God's will for our lives, I began shifting in my seat.

Haven't I suffered enough, God? Like, really? Suffering is something you're going to do to us on purpose? That's pretty messed up... seeing as how we already get that anyway.


I know I was being a little immature, but I still felt miffed.

Then he came to the point where he was talking about total surrender to God-- giving up ourselves, our self-reliance, all that jazz... followed up by how God is always good, and how everything he allows into our lives is for our good and His glory...

...and that's about the place where I lost it.

I realized that I'm screwed.

I cannot, will not, give up my self reliance and my independence. I can't.

Why?

God, you didn't protect me. You just let all that junk-- that suffering, that apparently you do to us on purpose-- happen to me, and now you expect me to just forget about it and trust you? No way! I can't trust you! All I have left is myself for protection, and I'm not about to give that up and hand myself over to some unnamed threat of suffering in the future, assuming that it's all for my best good. No. I can't do that, even if I wanted to... which I do. I want to trust you God, I just... I can't. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't be what you want, but... I just can't do this. Not right now. I'm the only one that can protect me... and I just can't give that up.


And then I started thinking about how that basically means that, should I die tonight, or should Jesus come back tomorrow... I'm doomed. Because God only takes the people to heaven who will be happy there, right? How can you be happy with someone you don't trust? Maybe the millennium would cure me of that, and I'd understand why and be able to trust, but that's kind of a slim hope to cling to...

And just when I had decided to believe in Jesus, too. Damn. What timing.

What do they say? Two steps forward, three steps back? Hah.

Anyway... it just gets me to thinking... what's the point?

I mean, all this time I've been trying to know who God really is, and what it means to trust him, and how to trust him, etc., I've still been paying my tithe. I've been keeping Sabbath. I've stayed away from unclean foods. I've gone to church (sorta). I've read the Bible or a devotional book in the mornings. I've prayed.

But what's the point?

If the basic, fundamental building block of trust isn't there, why am I doing all these things?

Am I hoping that God will look more favorably upon my lost condition if I'm not quite as lost as the next person? To prove to myself that I'm a good person? Because I'm afraid that God will make my life miserable if I don't? (Although, apparently, it'll be miserable if I follow him, too, so.... either way, I guess...)

If there's no point in my trying to be a Christian anymore... I really don't feel like there's a point to life, honestly. Truly, this world isn't that great of a place. And if this is all that I have... I'm getting gypped. But I guess it's all that I have, so I might as well make the best of it.

God, I don't want to be lost! I really, really wanted this "God thing" to work out... but the issue of trust is this giant boulder that I don't have the strength to move. If it's gonna happen, I'm not the one that can make it happen. You know what I mean?

I tried. I really did.

It's such a shame to be shot down like this.

(What you can't see are my tears of absolute heartbreak and discouragement.)

And NO, I don't want to hear any quotes from Steps to Christ. It's... it's not true.

I've started reading He Loves Me! by Wayne Jacobsen again. It looks promising. That, in conjunction with the intellectual books I'm reading about the Bible's veracity and hermeneutics and exegesis and common questions about Christianity and whatnot... hopefully it will give me a full, rounded picture that I can draw some answers from.

The first chapter is about "daisy petal Christianity". Some excerpts that stuck out to me...

"What about you?


Have you ever felt tossed back and forth by circumstances, occasionally certain but mostly uncertain about how the Creator of the universe feels about you? Or perhaps you've never even known how much God loves you.


In a Bible study recently, I met a forty-year-old woman who was active in her fellowship but admitted to a small group of us that she had never been certain that God loved her. She seemed to want to tell me more but finally only asked me to pray for her.


As I did, asking God to reveal just how much he loved her, an image came to mind. I saw a figure I new to be Jesus walking through a meadow hand in hand with a little girl about five years old. Somehow I knew this woman was that little girl. I prayed that he would help her discover a childlikeness of spirit that would allow her to skip through the meadows with him.


When I finished praying, I looked up at her eyes, brimming with tears.
'Did you say 'meadows'?' she asked.


I nodded, thinking it odd that she had focused on that word. Immediately she began to cry. When she was able to speak, she said, 'I wasn't sure I wanted to tell you. When I was five years old I was molested in a meadow by an older boy. Whenever I think about God, I think about that horrible event and I wonder why, if he loved me so much, he didn't stop that from happening.'


She's not alone. Many people carry scars and disappointments that appear to be convincing evidence that the God of love does not exist, or, if he does, he maintains a safe distance from them and leaves them to the whim of other people's sins. (Exactly!!)


I don't have a stock answer for moments like that, as if any could be effective in the midst of such pain. I told her that evidently God wanted her to know that he had been there with her, and although he didn't act in the only way she could understand true love to act, he loved her nonetheless. He wanted to walk her through that defiled meadow and redeem it in her life.


He wanted to give her measure of joy in the face of the most traumatic event of her life and turn what had destroyed her ability to trust into a stepping stone toward grace. I know that can sound almost trite int he face of such incredible pain, but the process has begun for her. Eight months later I received an excited e-mail from her telling me in 270-point type, 'I get it!'


Does that mean she understands why it happened to her? Of course not. Nothing could explain that. But it does mean that God's love was big enough to contain that horrible event and walk her out of it."

Okay, I'm sorry, but instead of instilling and encouraging hope within me... I feel this visceral rage bubbling hot in the low caverns of my belly.

I am SO SICK of that phrase (and its variations) that "God was there with you, and he'll redeem it". The hell he will! If he was there... why didn't he do something?


I mean, really. What sane, even peripherally caring person would stand in the same room as an innocent someone being attacked and molested and do nothing? It's just not going to happen. And then, after it's over, they come over with words of comfort and tell you it's gonna be okay? I don't know any survivor who would buy that for a nanosecond.

And yet, we expect that God, who is bigger and better than his creatures (supposedly), has some divine justification for doing the exact same thing?

Horse feathers.

But wait, there's more. This section is actually more than mildly intriguing.

"Truly God has never acted toward us in any way other than with a depth of love that defies human understanding. I know it may not look like that at times. When he seems to callously disregard our most noble prayers, our trust in him can be easily shattered and we wonder if he cares for us. We can even come up with a list of our own failures that seemingly justify God's indifference and beckon us into a dark whirlpool of self-loathing.


When we're playing the he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not game, the evidence against God can appear overwhelming. For reasons we will probe throughout these pages, God does not often do the things we think his love would compel him to do for us. He often seems to stand by with indifference while we suffer. How often does he seem to disappoint our most noble expectations?


But perception is not necessarily reality. If we define God only in our limited interpretation of our own circumstances, we will never discover who he really is... (Okay, you've got me intrigued. Now what?)


...He does love you more deeply than you've ever imagined; he has done so throughout your entire life. Once you embrace that truth, your troubles will never gain drive you to question God's affection for you or whether you've done enough to merit it. Instead of fearing he has turned his back on you, you will be able to trust his love at the moments you need him most. You will even see how that love can flow out of you in the strangest ways to touch a world starved for it.


Learning to trust him like that is not something any of us can resolve in an instant; it's something we'll grow to discover for the whole of our lives. God knows how difficult it is for us to accept his love, and he teaches us with more patience than we've ever known. Through every circumstance and in the most surprising ways, he makes his love known to us in ways we can understand.


So perhaps it's time to toss your daisies aside and discover that it is not the fear of losing God's love that will keep you on his path, but the simple joy of living in it every day."

My mom and I had an interesting text message convo yesterday.

Yesterday was not my favorite day in the history of days I've had. It was good, don't get me wrong, but it was... draining.

First, went to worship with SOULS, since they're hitting doors here in town until Friday. Then rush off to first pre-m counseling with C and FB. Then, rush off to my first personal counseling session.

Then, head back to C's place to try to deal with the migraine-like headache I picked up at the last counseling session. I knew no one would be there, so I hopped the back fence and "broke in" to take advantage of the cool darkness until group a few hours later. I was NOT feeling group at all, but I knew that the girls needed it, so I went and did it anyway. Thankfully B was there, as well as M, the girl who will be taking over for me (I'm "training" her, whatever that means. I don't even know what I'm doing, E! I know you don't believe me when I say that, but...)

So, somewhere between the second counseling session and group that night, Mom and I were texting back and forth. It went like this...

Me: So i went and joined SOULS for their worship today. part of the way through i realized... i don't believe this anymore. i feel kinda lost... church (SDA, specifically) has been my identity for so long... not that i'm giving up. i'm still studying.


Mom: I remember dealing with my own disappointments and loss of identity... I had no problem leaving the church behind and going my own path... and making a bigger mess of my life than I knew how to handle. I'm so glad you're still studying... God allowed me to royally mess things up-- and He would let you, too, but it would have been better for us if I hadn't quit on Him.


Oh, I'm not giving up on god. i still totally believe he exists. it's just... who is he? how does he operate? why did he do or not do certain things in relation to my past? etc. i just have a really hard time reconciling the abuse with a loving, interested god.


Because He is all-powerful, we think He should spare us from pain. After all, it's what most of us would do for our children. But He can't allow all evil to be stopped, or else we can't say with all certainty that Satan is wrong when he says he could do the job better. He has to allow us to see that Satan makes us suffer, and we have to be able to choose God not because He makes life easier, but because He gives us the hope of better things to come. 
(An excellent point, by the way... now that I think about it.)

That's kind of the problem i'm having... i know all about the great controversy, and at first it seems like a wonderful way to explain away bad stuff. but then i just don't know how i can trust someone who may throw me under the cosmic bus for the greater good at any given moment.


But it's not just for the greater good... it's for YOUR greater good. And he doesn't throw you under a bus or "zap" you... Satan does that. God doesn't do bad things. Satan does. God may allow Satan to do his bad things, and in the old testament, God took a very hardline position against certain peoples, but their history shows they were intent on so much evil and had set their ways so hard against God that He was left with no choice but to eradicate them to save innocent others.


So we could take it a step further and ask, why did Jesus raise to life only his friend Lazarus, a girl, and the young man from Nain? There were tons of other people who died during his ministry. Why only them? Why not everyone else who believed in him but died?


Yes. precisely. i think what i'm going through is it's not so much that i can't wrap my head around it, but i can't wrap my heart around it, if that makes sense.


A phone call ensued, and then, much later....

Look at where you were tonight.... The Healing Journey. You have been the "face" of it, on the news. Your story has been seen by thousands. You have made others aware of the fact that abuse of children, hidden and secret, does exist. I always believed you were meant for greatness. At first, when you joined Souls, that maybe that was it-- your greatness. But now I'm wondering if your greatness isn't helping others to find the path of healing like you are doing. Trailblazing isn't easy-- you get cut up by thorns and bit by snakes. But others who wouldn't have the courage to take that trail can follow your path. Something to think about.


Thank you, Mom. I love you.


:) I love you too.


I suppose you could boil it down to something simple... I don't have hair-splitting theological issues to chew on, but one that was summed up nicely by Epicurus. I think it's a really relevant question, one that anyone who claims to be a believer must wrestle with and come to a conclusion that satisfies them.

“Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? Then he is not omnipotent.
Is he able, but not willing? Then he is malevolent.
Is he both able and willing? Then whence cometh evil?
Is he neither able nor willing? Then why call him God?”

Epicurus – Greek philosopher, BC 341-270

I'm angry with God right now. Angry with God? Angry at God? Is there a distinction at all?

Anyway, I'm just... angry... profoundly hurt, I suppose... disappointed... disillusioned... untrusting...

It's like, how can you promise that you're going to be my strength and my shield when... stuff like this happens?

I came across John 16:33 yesterday, which says, "I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (The context of that is Jesus telling his disciples what's about to go down (sorta) so they won't be totally shocked.) So... I guess I can't say you didn't warn us...

So what does going with God really mean? Does it mean that God will protect me from, say, being raped? Apparently not. I hear people talking about God being with you through bad stuff, and healing you afterwards... like, helping you pick up the pieces...

... but really? Isn't there something more than just damage control?

I guess I'm just feeling like, if I can figure God out, then everything will fall into place, yeah?

Probably not.

God, I'm sorry I don't trust you. I just... can't... right now. I'd like to. I want to work towards that.

But it's not like turning on a light switch.

I can't believe this has been here the whole time... I got so good at pushing it away...

...it almost feels heretical to be allowing myself to ask these questions, you know?

... to allow myself to walk away until I'm certain that this is my choice and this is where I choose to be... for me.

Mom says you're not threatened by this. I sure hope not.

I wish I could repaint my soul and mind like I'm repainting the furniture...

But really, God? Is there nothing more than damage control? Is that all you have to offer me?

I need someone who will protect me, not just bring the band-aids.

I suppose I'm supposed to "look forward", to think about that "something better" (heaven? second coming?), and just... endure the pain. Right? Endure, because there's something better?

But I have to live in the enduring. And this enduring is messing me up and, in turn, hurting other people. What am I supposed to do, endure better?

I dunno.

I dunno, God. I really don't.

Just... yeah.

I'm sorry. Sorry about everything.

So maybe this observation is a product of my madness. Or perhaps it is just the byproduct of a paranoia honed by experience. Then again, it may be a genuinely valid observation. (I tend to lean towards the former explanations- I'm a chronic self-doubter.)

There's a guy at church who watches me. And he is, naturally, an older man whom I respect and am drawn to as a father figure. Naturally.

I don't know how much he watches me, but whenever he's on the platform, it seems that his eyes are on me.

And it makes me nervous.

I think of "the B situation", and I panic a little inside.

I also wonder... What is it about me? First of all, why does this happen, and second of all, why am I so hypersensitive to it?


The last question is a dumb, self-answering question. The first and second questions... are ones I've been asking for as long as I've been self-aware enough to. (Hah. That's an incredibly vague time reference. It could be a week, for all anyone knows! I just thought it was a little much of an exaggeration to say "my whole life", because that's clearly not true.)

On a slightly related note, I learned something about G last week. I got to thinking about familial roles and whatnot (Domestic Violence group is really somethin' else! Can I say I'm really enjoying it without being looked at askance?), and I thought to ask Mom if G had ever hit her.

The answer? No.

So, essentially, it boils down to this: I was pretty much the focal point of the abuse. He didn't hit Mom. K was a bit young, but she got it anyway sometimes, and Jr. and J were way too young. In addition to that, they were his own flesh and blood, so of course he would favor them. And I'm the only one he molested. So... what the heck, dude?! Seriously? What's your deal? WHY ME?


But, as explained to C in response to some prodding, I'm glad it was only me. If I had to take the hit so that the other kids could be okay, then I'm willing to accept that. (I mean, I know they're not okay, but relatively speaking... Could anyone come out of that hell-hole "okay"? Doubtful.)

*Sigh*

It's no wonder my family is f----d up.

And yet, against all odds... we're all healing. Slowly but surely.

You can't ever say there's no hope.

(Unless you're dead.)

Guess who voluntarily went to sing at the retirement home today? And guess who actually enjoyed herself? AND, guess who went around and shook all the old people's hands? That's right! I guess I'm just shocked to hear myself saying, "I'll see you next time!" and actually meaning it.

There was a guy there that reminded me of D. Ouch, my poor heart. Just when I thought I was over him... It's been almost a year since... all of that. My, how time flies.

Went to a Single's Ministry hangout thing tonight. I was kinda nervous, and a little skittish, because really? Single's Ministry? Like, can't we hang out without awkwardly branding this as a gettogether for single people ONLY? Oh, well.

It was significantly less awkward than I had anticipated, largely due to the fact that most everyone there had grey hair.

Anyway, we watched the movie Courageous, which was, as predicted, excellent. It's a far cry from the forced dialogue and stiff facial expressions of Flywheel. Sherwood Church has really come a long way, and I'm proud of them.

It brought up some pain for me, though.

I really, really, really wish I had a godly daddy.

Why do J and K get that, but not me? And why was it such a trial and tribulation to share a part of that? Of course, I can't blame them... if I had something like that, I probably wouldn't want to share it, either.

I just... I dunno. I'm just really sad that my dad knows who I am, but has never made an effort to see me... or even talk to me anymore. I'm really sad that the guy who married my mom, knowing that he was taking on the responsibility of two and a half children (he'd already gotten mom pregnant) chose not to love me, cherish me, and encourage me, but to destroy and humiliate me. I'm really sad that pretty much every guy I've ever consciously or unconsciously looked to for guidance and direction and fatherly wisdom has turned out to be a creep, a liar, a druggie, a drunk, a molester, or a combination of all those.

R is a good father. Don't get me wrong. But there's still somewhat of a gap there, because he isn't basing his fathering off of God's model. He loves me, and he provides for me, and he gives me good advice,  but he never saw fatherhood modeled either. But do I dare ask for more? What is it I'm looking for? R's a good man, and a good dad to me. How can I want more than that?

Maybe I'm just looking for God. God's my father, right?

Maybe it's too late for me to have a daddy.

Maybe it's why I'm so attracted to older men.

God's brought me spiritual sisters, brothers, and mothers... but where is my father?

...where is my father?

As amazing as that may sound, I actually LIKE not having the option of using the internet whenever I want. It helps me be so much more responsible with my time...

Been having struggles trusting God lately. I'm scared... O ye of little faith... but I'm scared that I've misread God's will and I'm doing the wrong thing that he didn't actually want me to do and so he won't take care of me and I'm going to run out of money and have to sell my body on the streets or something (yeah, right) or maybe marry for money... or run out and get a "real" job so I can support myself, because I know that I could, but then the very things that I came back to Idaho for would go by the wayside. I could get a "real" job anywhere. But where, oh where, does God want me to be?...

Struggles breed intimacy, right? So, logically speaking... God and I should be pretty tight by the end of this rough patch. C reminded me that God already set me up with some jobs here real soon that I had (conveniently) forgotten about in my stress and worry.

I hate tires, by the way. They're so darn expensive, and it seems like they ALWAYS give me issues when I'm running low on funds. Oh, wait... I'm never not running low on funds. That's right.

I really, really, really want to trust God with this... but it's hard. I don't want to be a bum, begging off of family and friends. I'll ditch the gardens and get a "real" job before I do that.

I think that I just need to sleep and talk with God some more. Hopefully he'll let me know if I'm on the right track or not.

D and I are having problems. Rather, I should say that I’m having a problem with D. He just doesn’t know about it yet. I’m going to talk to him about it next time we talk, because I want to address it so it doesn’t turn into resentment in my heart.

We haven’t talked in several days. That’s not the problem. I know that our lives don’t revolve around each other, and I survived 23 years without talking to him on the phone once. Not talking on the phone is not the issue.

The issue I’m having is that, 3 days in a row, he’s said he was going to call... and then he didn’t. (Actually, I have to amend that. He called last night, but after I was asleep and my phone was off... even though I told him I was going to bed at nine. Maybe he was thinking Alaska time? I dunno.)

See, he’s working again. That’s wonderful, and I’m happy for him. He’s remodeling a house, and they’re working crazy hours. Again, that’s not the problem. I miss being able to talk to him whenever I want, but it’s okay. I’m glad he’s working, and I know he is, too. 

But it’s the fact that he said he was going to call, and then didn’t. I really look forward to our conversations, especially right now when the days are long and I’m rather isolated, and I look forward to conversations with those back home. Talking with him is fun, it’s relaxing, and it helps me to refocus and sort of recharge for the next day. Since he said he was going to call, I began anticipating the phone call... only to be let down. It’s happened a few times before, when he didn’t have service. It’s understandable. But to have that let-down several days in a row... it’s painful. I don’t like it. If he doesn’t think he’ll be able to call, I’d rather he not say anything.

And now, I find myself all skeptical. He left me a voicemail, saying he’s working crazy hours and all, and that he’d call today. I found myself thinking, Yeah, sure. I’ve heard that one before. I don’t like that!

Of course, there’s some hurt mingled in with the disappointment... I know he has good reasons. I know he does, and that’s why I feel so dumb for feeling this way. But there’s a fraction of me that feels, You’re not very important to him. When he’s got nothing to do, sure he’ll call you. But when there’s stuff to be done, you take the back seat. You’re not a priority. Because, when he says he’s going to be calling, I make space in my schedule for that. Our phone calls are important to me. But there are other conversations I could have had, people I could have connected with, if I had just known that he wasn’t actually going to call!

*sigh*

I’m glad I’m processing through this now, so that I don’t jump down his throat about this or anything. No attacking. I need to communicate how I feel, is all.

And you know what? My reaction would be the same if any of the people in my life close to me did this. At first, I was scared that I was overreacting... then I thought about how I would feel and react if it were various people... and my reaction is the same. Good to know that it’s just a “me” thing and not a “relationship” thing, if that makes sense.

I just got a package from my mom. It contained a glass bottle for oil drizzling (whatever you call those things) with a teapot and teacup motif- because I LOVE tea, a beautiful homemade apron she picked up in Amish country, and a ruler with elephants that walk back and forth as you move it. I feel so loved :) It's funny, though, because, while I do feel loved, I still feel lonely... which leads me to wonder if quality time or physical touch isn't my more primary love language? Or maybe it's just that I'm out of balance right now... (The funny thing is, I was just wishing yesterday that I had a ruler. I was thinking of picking one up.)

I am having a hard time sorting through what's true and what's not right now. I'm discouraged as I face the summer, because of my health issues. Did I really think that it was all going to just work out okay? Now, as my stomach and intestines churn and cramp, I'm having second thoughts. And why this day of sickness? I didn't eat anything wrong... but it started yesterday, and is just getting worse. Is it stress? But I feel like I have a fever... I don't know. I just don't know. (I don't have a thermometer.) Did I really think that I could pull off being a counselor when I need 9 hours of sleep just to function well?

How did I ever think this was going to work?

Which leads me to question whether or not this is actually what God wanted me to do. I mean, sure, the job worked out and all, but did this happen because he saw that I wanted it so badly, and he let it happen? Or was this his plan?

And, honestly, I am feeling like an irresponsible Christian because I'm not doing ministry. Like, here I am complaining about all this free time (oh, what a horrible thing! yeah, right.), but I could be out doing something for other people instead of feeling sorry for myself.

But you want to know the truth? I'm scared of venturing outside by myself. I don't like the city. I don't like the possibilities. At first, it was all about survival- finding my way around, figuring out how to get to the store and back, trying to get my feet under me with work- I was too overwhelmed to be scared. Now, especially after my cop boss has regaled me with horror stories, I'm afraid to step foot outside. I'm even nervous when I don't have my door deadbolted. I don't want to go do stuff by myself... but myself is all I have right now. So I stay home. (Plus I don't want to spend the gas... I'm trying to save up money, here!)

And I resent the idea that I should be helping people because it's the good and right thing to do. No! If I want to stay home, I'll stay home, alright?! I don't care if it's selfish. I'll be selfish then. But you can't make me do something if I don't want to.

But I've been thinking... maybe I should call up that nice church that's close and see if there's anything I can volunteer to help with. I mean, I'm only here for like, two and a half more weeks, but I'm sure there's something I can do... I miss serving. I just am not the kind of person to go out and randomly try to find some need to fill. I like guidance... especially when I'm in a strange place, visiting. If I were home in my little town, that'd be different. (Maybe.)

Ugh, I don't know. I just don't know. Am I a bad person? Or am I merely suffering from delusions of inadequacy? Am I buying into lies? I don't even really want to talk to God right now... I'm afraid of what he'll say. I'm afraid that it's true and I'm a bad person and I need to stop my pity party and get out and do something for someone else because that's what makes you a good person. I'm afraid that I'm failing. Miserably. I'm afraid that this is some sort of test and I'm bombing it.

I'm afraid that the entire summer is going to be like this.

But, on the bright side... I'll have my school bill paid off. That's pretty much the only reason why I didn't start packing to go home today. That, and my desperate desire not to let people down.

(What the heck? I thought I got over all this stuff like, 6 months ago?)

It's concluded for now, anyway. I'm going to uphold and maintain my boundaries, for sure. I'm just still not sure of what to think about B and where he's coming from. I want a friendship with him, but... not at the cost of my soul. (I'm not being dramatic, either. To refuse to stand up for myself on this matter would be a regression to fear-based silence, and the longer I do it, the harder it is to remember how to healthfully deal with conflict. And, as I think about it, it's funny how silence is really the wisest thing in some cases, but in others... you really have to say something. Same principle, different applications...)

The last few emails read this way:

C,  please totally disreguard my last letter, the one just befor this one.

I feel like I just need to tell you that I am very, very sorry for causing you the pain and anguish that you described.

You are fully justified in your accusations against me. I have no excuse  to offer. And I'm really feelling lousy about it.

B,

Thank you for your apology. I really appreciate it. I forgive you.

C

C,

Thankyou.

I spent Sabbath evening up in the mountains, stayed the night, then took a very long hike this morning. My heart was extremely, heavy over our recent correspondence; however the morning was extremely beautiful, the sun was shining, the air was warm, the signs of spring were every where. After two hours into my hike I came to a beautiful Cedar grove with beams of sunlight shining through, it was the perfect time and environment to talk to God. After sharing my burdens and shedding a few tears, I asked the Lord for some evidence that it will be okay. As I got up from my knees my burden was gone. I don't think I had ever experienced that in such a tangible way.
I had only been back at the shop for less than an hour, after putting my things away and making some toast, I sat down at the desk and read your e-mail. Thank you for being the answer to my prayer; thank you for bringing a beautiful day to a beautiful ending. Thank-you for you.

B

Well... at least he's not saying "I love you" anymore. That's progress.

But I still sense undertones of... whatever's been going on lately. "Thank you for you." 

Sigh. We'll get over this one way or another, I'm sure.

A lot has been happening. Can it truly only be Thursday?

Is it really 11 pm?

Yes. And yes.

But I need to blog. More, apparently, than I need sleep.

So I've been checking stuff off of my list like crazy... and adding stuff, too. It seems that, for every thing I cross off the list, 2 things get added! I'm mostly down to "little" things now, though, except for packing. That's pretty big.

How do you pack for 6 months????? Probably about the same as packing for 2 months. I've done that one, so this shouldn't be too bad.

(You know, I say 6 months, but I really don't know how long it will be, exactly. I think I've rounded up to 6 so that, if I come home early, it will be a splendiferous surprise!!)
----------------------------------------------

It's official. I won't be seeing D anymore. I'm heading off to the concrete jungle, he's heading off to the colder climes of Alaska. Good riddance. Sorta.

Okay, not really at all.

But it's cool- the peace I've had about this whole "doeshelikemeIthinkhelikesmeandIlikehimbuthe'snotdoinganythingaboutitsoshouldIsaysomethingI'mscaredtosayanythingsoI'lljustleavewellenoughaloneeventhoughIreallylikehim" thing is pretty wild. (Hah. Wild peace. What an oxymoron.) It's nice to be able to relate to him on a friend to friend basis again, instead of freaking out about making a good impression or something.

I had heard about the "peace that passes understanding". It sounded so desirable. I tried my hardest to get it. It didn't come. It's 'cause I didn't trust God, I think. No, I'm sure it's because I didn't trust God. It's hard to hand the reins over to someone that you suspect is going to lynch you with them.

But I wrote D a note. I haven't given it to him. As a matter of fact, I just wrote it tonight... about half an hour ago. The basic gist is, "If you'd like to write, here's my email address. Thanks again for the book. I'm praying for you."

I'm still not sure whether to have it given to him or not. I can't tell whether it would be negating all that I've earned in the way of peace and serenity in this area... whether I'd be totally turning my back on what God's trying to lead me to, and doing my own thing.

But the panic, you ask? What of the panic?

Yes, well, you see... I'd been getting some weird vibes from B for the past.... ehhhhh... week or so? Ever since the Stanley backpacking trip. It could be that I'm leaving, and he's getting sentimental. That could very well be. I know that, in the past, I've had a tendency to romanticize or sexualize totally platonic relationships, because that was how I learned as a child to relate. So I started praying.

Lord, is this in my head? Am I wigging out? Help me! If this is my dysfunction rearing its ugly head again, strike it down! Please, restore the happiness and innocence to my side of this relationship-- I can't control his side. I don't even know what's going on in his head.

Nothing sexual, mind you! Just, like... well... getting this weird vibe that he might like me.

Even saying it is freaking me out. But I need to get this out there and off of my chest.

And then I was talking to H, and she mentioned that someone else had said to her that they suspected he might like me. I laughed it off with her, we joked about it, and it was fine.

But the panic was building.

You see, it's not that he's not a nice guy. That's not it at all.

It's that he's so much older than I am- it's like a trigger for baaaaad memories and emotions.

We have about the same age gap that my abusers and I have shared. When older men have been interested in me, it hasn't been good.

So for me to even have the possibility pinging around in my head that he could even think such a thing, or look  at me in such a way... it is repulsive to me. It's.... dirty. It's vile. It's foul.

It's powerlessness and defilement and trauma all over again.

And I just enjoy being buddies. *sigh*

So he gave me a card, because I'm leaving. That's fine. I gave him one, too. Because we're friends. I mean, I've spilled my heart to him. I've looked to him for words of wisdom and for spiritual counsel. He shared mangos with me, for crying out loud. We're definitely friends.

But he closed the card with "I love you", and signed his name.

Freak out!

I love him like a brother... or an uncle. But in no other way.

So racquetball was hard. I had to go outside and pray after just half an hour or so.

God, I don't want these wacked out emotions interfering with our friendship! Please, restore this to what it used to be...

And you know the cool thing? Because I'd already had such a win with the D thing, I knew he could do it. I knew he would. I knew, also, that the emotions might not necessarily change right away, and that's fine. But I wanted my thought processes to change, and the way I perceived B to change. I didn't want to be suspicious. I didn't want to be distant and wary, on guard. I wanted our friendship back.

(It's amazing how, even if only one person in a friendship gets something in their head, how it can affect the entire relationship-- even if the other person is clueless to what's going on!)

Yeah. It got a lot better after that. God did it! The emotions did dissipate after a while, but I felt calmer and stronger on the way back in. Like it was okay. God's got this. He is El Roi, the Living One who sees me. He's got this.

I'm still struggling with it a bit-- I've not completely gotten over it...  but it's a step.

I just want our friendship back, untainted and unsullied. Will that ever happen?

I realized tonight that I'm actually glad I'm leaving, if just for this very situation to have a chance to wither and die.

G showed up in my dream last night. Not G1 (my first abuser ever. Thanks alot.), but G2, the one I put in prison. He came to my house. And people were telling me that I just needed to get over it and hang out with him again.

Never.

Ever.

I will hate him until I die.

I hate him for what he did to me. Who the hell does he think he is?! Did I ever ASK to be molested? For years, I thought that it was what I deserved, that it was "payment" for any form of kindness he showed me. What person in their right mind thinks, "Hmm. She's young. Too young, in fact, to bear children. Perfect." And your pitiful excuses betray your withered brain. "Your mom and I were going through a rough time..." Bullshit. If you were here, in front of me now, I would punch you in the face. I would rake my fingernails across your disgusting, roving eyes. I would punish you, make you pay for everything you did to me, to my family, to my mother...

But you don't even care. You don't care that you RUINED MY LIFE! You're such a jerk! I HATE YOU! If I never see you again, it will be too soon. And stay out of my dreams, jerkface. I have enough troubles without you coming around to haunt me.

Boyfriend. It's a good thing I don't have one, because I would alternate between obsessive neediness and despondent antisociality. (Yes. It's a word... now.)

I did realize, though, as I was thinking on the way to and from racquetball last night, that when you're in a relationship (say, for instance, married), there is a certain degree of mutual need. It's okay to need that other person. Why are people so devastated when they lose their mates? If they were independent islands, it wouldn't be that big of a deal. I need my family, too. I need my mom, and she's going into surgery today, and it's freaking the living daylights out of me.

But, back on track... I've had this pet theory that I'll be ready for a relationship when I get to the point that I don't need another person at all, that I'll be able to be totally self-sufficient and untouched, so that if the relationship ends, it won't affect me. You know... "just Jesus and me." But it occurred to me last night... that's not the case. That's not how it works. Maybe that's why relationships are so scary... because they involve... trust. Allowing another person to matter and to have impact in your life. Needing them and allowing them to need you. I guess that's the scarily insidious thing about putting up those walls to keep people out-- sure, you never need people, but you never allow them to truly need you either. It's like you don't matter. Because that's part of the joy of life, isn't it? Needing and being needed? Fulfilling and being fulfilled? Giving and receiving?

Trust. Here we go again. I was running this whole idea through my head last night on the way to r-ball (and no, I didn't bring it to the group... by the time I got there, it just seemed to personal... and I was afraid they might try to "fix" me. I don't want that.). Some musings came to the surface, such as...

Motive. Motive is a huge factor in trust, I've realized. I mean, you can trust someone all the livelong day, but if their motive is to destroy you, then you're gonna get burned, and, well, destroyed. Take, for instance, my ex-stepfather. Did I trust him? Kinda-sorta-not-really. I wanted him to love me, that's for sure. And I trusted him to take care of my basic necessities, because he was the adult and I was the child. It didn't work out. His motive was to make sure he was happy and comfortable at all times, and screw everyone else. I was one of those everyone-else's.

I see now that my trust was misplaced (though I can hardly expect a child to understand and act on that), and that he didn't deserve it, because his motive was not for my benefit.

I think that's the issue I have with you, God. I can trust you, sure... but am I gonna wish I hadn't? What's your motive? People talk about how I can trust you totally because you sent Jesus to die for us, and isn't that proof of your wonderful love?

Yeah, but... I mean, anyone can do something nice and totally awesome once. Even Gary was good to us once in a while.

So what is the bedrock? You know what I mean? Do you really have my best interest in mind? How do I know that? I'm just afraid of being used again... and you're bigger than I am.

I believe you exist. Why? The natural world. The complexity and intricacy of the world around me convinces me that there is a Creator... and that's you. Plus, you've answered prayers.

I believe the Bible is true. Why? Daniel 2. Prophecy. It's too clear and accurate to be guessing. It has occurred to me that part of the Bible could be real and part could be fake. I do know that I have a lot of questions still. But I guess it all comes back to the same thing, in the end... trust. You gotta trust something. Whether it's a scientist's conjectures, your physics textbook, your own two eyes, or the Bible, at some point you must choose to believe that the source of the input your are receiving is truth.

So the question then, is this: What am I going to trust?