31: The Legacy of Home

Romans 8: 35, 37-39

35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

37 Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors

through him that loved us.

38 For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,

39 Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

The Legacy of Home

2/3/08

Who am I? Why does He want me?

Why does being His daughter give me value? Why should I have any rights? How dare I make any claim on Him? Why should my existence have value to Him or anyone?

Only in doing good. But I am not perfect, so when I am not good, where is the justification for inflicting myself on others?

I have chosen Him. I will never want to change that choice. At times I am appalled by my audacity and ashamed of the nothing He has claimed as His own. A voice whispers that this should not be so, but could someone please explain to me Why?

This is the strongest example of the psychology of the abused finding voice in my poem journal. This is what is left behind after constant belittlement, ridicule, torment, and disgust by abusers. The feeling you must be perfect, that you have no worth, the shame of existing in the first place, and if you can see that it's not supposed to be that way, the complete incomprehension of why, how.

The gospel, church, taught me the difference between what was and what should be. Years of protection by hundreds of miles away from home has begun to teach me how life can be without the abuse. As I find peace and security in the healthy, the hurt has less hold and sway and the further I get in healing, the faster I'm able to make progress.

The scriptures teach the why. The fact is that God does love me. He does not and never has seen me the way I was taught to see myself. As I recognize and accept His love and patience with and acceptance of others around me I can begin to consider the same for myself. It may not make sense to the me raised at home, but it no longer has to because I can recognize the lunacy of life at home. And that home is no more for me so I am free of it to focus on what is: that God does love me and He wants me back with Him.

1: A World Not My Own

D&C 61:36

And now, verily I say unto you, and what I say unto

one I say unto all, be of good cheer, little children;

for I am in your midst, and I have not forsaken you;

A World Not My Own

~7/30, 10/22/05

I do not belong in this world not my own

Although many insist there's no other

Yet still I can sense it, separate and pure

That world promised me by my Brother.

I cannot achieve it enslaved as I am

To confusions I cannot escape

So often surrounded by anger, disgust

Then something like love do they drape.

I know not what to do, confused as I am

I simply listen and try to obey

And trust that the Lord will help guide me home

Though I seem to forget every day.

Still I walk ever onward as best I know how

And pray that I'm walking aright

That the Lord will continue to guide me each day

And grant both clear mind and clear sight.

It was not until after high school ended that I began to recognize the problems that existed at home. To me, it feels like Heavenly Father made it so I would not understand so that I would be protected while still legally dependent. But even not understanding, it was still rough. I was not happy but I didn't know why, let alone how anything could be done about it. Indeed, I tried to prevent remembering how hard it was by avoiding the keeping of a journal. I did not truly start one until the year after my mother died. When the feelings were more than I could write regularly, they came out in poem form. This amuses me as I've never been all that fond of poetry, but perhaps it makes sense that poets tend to be those processing strong emotion.