jumbled laundry

Wishy Washy. Like a load of dirty laundry floating in soapy lukewarm water. Swishing back and forth. Back and forth. There have been some decadently sweet moments but also some utterly sour moments. For the past couple days the wheels have been swirling like a rapid tornado. I’ve been teeter tottering between various pieces trying to comprehend why it was so easy to begin letting the hurt and pain out. This week seems to be different. I’ve barely written. The only thing screaming to come out was emotion.

There was the fear of unknown causing a shoulder tensing stress. Last night tears strolled down my face, fogging up my purple rimmed glasses because of a movie. Reaching back into my memory, I don’t think I’ve ever cried during a movie. Extreme hatred towards my body and how I look. An emptiness, unsure of how to repair the black hole inside. There were moments of numbness with a hint of fear that I was drifting back into the vegetable state. Other moments where I couldn’t text my sister fast enough expressing my overwhelming thoughts. Sadness mixed in like a key ingredient of a recipe. A pinch of hopelessness and burdensome worry. Self destructive urges peaked up. Regret. Why did I eat that, when I knew better? Jumbled into the mix, there were times when I couldn’t really place my finger on a specific feeling or emotion. Moments that took a little extra power to get out of the coziness of my bed. There were also times when I wanted to throw in the towel, throw up my hands and say, “ok, monster and enemy, you win right now!” It seems to be a whole laundry list of rancid feelings. Dull colors. Boring and lifeless. Bland.

But underneath there seemed to be another load. A glimpse of sunshine and paradise. Brighter colors. An incredibly, breathtaking solar eclipse. The glowing smiley face from the tiniest of littles when catching fish from the blue green lake with the petite fishing pole. Sweet, pure surprises from a secret sister. Creating unexpected friendships in the nail salon. Messages filled with wisdom and truth. Receiving a book that was eagerly waited on. Movie nights with the one whom my soul loves. Hugs that were a little tighter. Jubilant birthday surprises. Ridiculously corny jokes. Encouragement and mighty power from irreplaceable sisters. Compliments catching my completely off guard. Happy and thankful tears.

Jesus never failed to show up. He heard my cries and carried me through the vulnerable times. The bad could easily outweigh the good but I clung to hope and faith. This part of recovery is so unbelievably difficult but Jesus is working in me. Scooping out the gunk and instilling a rawness that hasn’t been experienced before. I can’t expect to magically heal over night or force myself to write about a distasteful history fully in one sitting. Casting Crowns, “Praise You in this Storm,” and Dave Barns, “Carry me Through,” have played randomly in my car several times this week. Each time, the words strike my soul a little harder.

There’s a mountain
Here before me
And I’m going to climb it
With strength not my own
He’s gonna lead me
Or the mountain beats me
Carry me through
Carry me through

My Heavenly Father is and, will continue to, carry me through this storm. He’s filled me with the strength similar to a mighty warrior. Transforming my heart and mind. His timing is impeccable and sometimes it’s challenging to fathom such an overwhelming, selfless love. I will continue to fix my chocolate brown eyes on Jesus. I will strive to trust in Him more and more with each passing day. As I continue to travel on this path, I look forward to what will unravel and how my eyes will be opened to newer, fresher things. Some days I will need to remind myself that I am not alone and that there’s no shame to my story a little more frequently and that will be ok. No doubt will there be more cloudy, rainy days but that is part of the battle, as long as I don’t fester and start to live in those black hole moments. I will continue to cling so tightly and hopefully to Romans 12:9.

Jesus, help me to cling to what is good.



Romans 12:9 :// Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good.




As I sit here staring at the screen I'm filled with aggravation and pain. I've written countless blog posts and journal entries but this is by far the hardest thing for me to write about. Part of me doesn't understand. I don't understand how I can write about a tornado and trauma with my father but can't even think to begin to write about this. It feels like it shouldn't be this difficult. I've been hiding from the truth practically my whole life.

All I can think about is an alcoholic reaching for his next cold one regardless of the situation or time of day. That's how I feel with you, ED. You're far worse than an abusive relationship. You're there when I wake up, when I'm happy, when I'm sad or anxious, when I'm trying to go to sleep. You're there every minute of every day. Quite frankly, you're exhausting. It's always one extreme or the other. I eat too much or I eat way too little or not at all. I spend over two hours in the gym or don't do anything at all. There's no in between. You make me so mad. I feel like I've done everything yet still can't get rid of you. I want to blame it on my father since that's when it seems you decided to first come around. I was so young and so vulnerable. There would be weekends with no food or water. What kind of parent doesn't care to properly nourish their own child? Anger arouses. The enemy had swooped in and already taken control.

Then I begin to think how could anyone allow their self to skip meals and in turn lay on the bathroom floor crying because it felt like they were going to be sick? But I allowed it. It was a coping mechanism. ED, you teamed up with the enemy and filled my mind with lies. My heart hurts and filled with cheerlessness.

I've allowed other people to walk all over me because of you. I believed that I was ugly and fat and can barely look in a mirror now be because of it. The people I love the most and look up to would ask, “Are you really going to wear that?” Or “Do you think you should eat that?” Now I hide in dark, looser clothes because I'm embarrassed and broken.

Hopelessness and fear. Anger and jealousy. Sadness and pain. Regret and shame. Restraint and burdens. I feel trapped and a failure. All strong and powerful feelings and thoughts swirl in my mind as I begin to allow myself to experience something that I've never done before. It's completely outside of my comfort zone and honestly I don't like it.

The figure and shape on the outside can't even begin to represent the person I am on the inside. There's this picture in my head. A tall, beautiful girl dancing freely and confidently in fields of sunflowers and wildflowers. She radiates desire and grace. That's who I long to be.

I've prayed and continue to pray. I know that I can only experience complete freedom through Jesus. Without Him the enemy and Ed will continue to tear me down. I am reminded in 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 that my body's a temple and won't magically be built overnight. He has placed Godly women in my life to speak truth and wisdom over me when my mind begins to trick me in thinking I can't overcome this. As badly as I wish that my fairy godmother could wave her magic wand and all of this mess would magically be fixed, I am beginning to accept the challenge and time that it'll take. I've faced many challenges in my short life on earth and with each step I've grown in my faith and relationship with Jesus. I've watched one sister fight Ed and is now living out life in freedom. This is a gleam of strength and hope. I will continue to be vulnerable and trust that my Heavenly Father continues to take care of me. It's time for a new season in my journey. I know it won't be easy. It'll be hard. Very hard. But I've fought like hell to get where I am and I don't plan to stop until I can finally say I've broken up with Ed. With Jesus and sweet sisters by my side, I will overcome this.


“Happiness always looks small while you hold it in your hands, but let it go, and you learn at once how big and precious it is.” – unknown

{joy :// the emotion of great delight or happiness caused by something exceptionally good or satisfying; keen pleasure; elation}

A charcoal slate spilled across the sky as if someone smeared a piece of coal over a blank canvas. Cool rain pitter pattered on the metal roof. Tiny humans with their brightly colored rainboots splash around in the muddy puddles. It was the kind of weather where you just wanted to curl up in a corner with a warm drink in your favorite mug and read a cheesy romance novel. Typically on days like this the monster took full reigns. Instead, the young girl had bigger plans.

They say “April showers bring May flowers” and the young girl’s flowers were about to come full bloom. Grabbing her pink rain coat she heads off to work and surrounds herself with exuberant perennials. It's a rather slow morning but the young girl enjoys the learning opportunities with her manager. The first flower takes bloom.

Her work day wrapped up earlier than usual in order to prepare for the rest of the day’s events. The young girl scurried home to enjoy a warm tomatoey bowl of spaghetti before her facetime session with her therapist. Tiny, melody like tunes poured out of the phone. Climbing into the cozy bed the young girl picks up the phone and her therapy session begins. The young girl is all smiles and her second flower bursts wide.

Rain continued to drizzle down the spout as she threw last minute items into a bag and headed out the door. Atlanta would be the young girl’s home for the next few days. She could barely contain her excitement. It had been over a year since the young girl had seen most of her family from treatment. This family had a major impact on her recovery. A couple buds pop out the rich, chocolate soil.

There were only a few minutes left of her drive but it felt like an eternity. Hillsong United’s angelic voices played in the background passing through the young girl’s soul effortlessly. Two more songs passed and she was pulling into the parking garage. She calls her sister piecing together where the other was located. Similar to a game of Marco Polo. Stepping out of the car, her heart nearly exploding, the young girl and her sister have a jubilant reunion.

Her garden was growing rapidly. Sprigs of vibrant bellflower and cosmos perk up. Emotions were bubbling over. The young girl’s other sister and “treatment mama” would arrive momentarily. Dark wooden tables and cream colored chairs filled the hotel lobby. The business of people coming and going swirled into a blur around her. She wanted to soak up as much happiness that she could. It wasn't often that the young girl felt overwhelming pure emotion for more than a day.

After another beautiful reconnection the weekend festivities could commence. The young girl’s luscious garden was expanding. A new sense of life filled the hotel as the sweet sisters giggled and took shameless selfies.

Dinner was served at an elegant restaurant with an Italian like atmosphere. Mounds of crusty freshly baked bread and crisp greens topped with creamy dressing. Tucked in a semicircle booth it was difficult to believe this was real life. She had waited so long for this reunion and it was everything she dreamed of and then some.

After a refreshing nights sleep and a protein filled breakfast the young ladies headed to their old treatment center. It would be a day of celebration with a hint of nervousness. Psalm 91 written on her freckled hand. Sprouts of golden sunflowers and magenta zinnias were added to the euphoric meadow.

A plethora of reunions and re connections spread throughout the day. Some unexpected and some she waited months for. Either way her heart was flooded with a love the monster had been denying the young girl for awhile. Rich chocolate cake and energetic dancing snuck its way into the day. Tiny rocks with painted feathers, a gentle reminder of His powerful word. New restaurant adventures and FaceTime sessions with brother bear. The young girl couldn't help but be amazed of Jesus’ mighty work.

Saturday was for the girls. Overdue manicures and shopping sprees. New sign language skills and chaotic malls. Delicious ice cream with tiny cones courtesy of kind strangers. For the first time during her trip the sun was glowing bright and full of warmth. Pedals bursting open revealing their subtle colors. Yellows. Blues. Creams. Her world was ineffable.

The weekend ended with an amazing church service at Passion City. Jesus was clearly present. Pastor Louie’s message on the “Goliath must Fall” hit home for the young girl. The Truth mellowed into her soul. This was the icing on her cake. An incredible weekend filled with an abundant amount of love, fellowship and Jesus. It wasn't often that weekends like this came around but the young girl was going to cling tightly the best she could.

Her garden could barely be tamed.