I read something yesterday on the internet, it was about strength and how we make our way to become the person we are. Why am I strong, how did I become the strongest, the one who handles the chaos and insanity and manages the dysfunctional world? I was the oldest child, the one who had to stand in for my parents when their dysfunction bled into our lives. I was no one’s favorite, my sisters held those roles. My middle sister was daddy’s girl, my kid sister was mama’s baby. I just was… I was the one who protected them when alcohol and mental issues were an issue. I stood up against my daddy’s narcissistic behavior, and I fought his control issues. I waded through the mental issues of my mother waving away the abuse and searching for a way to help her. I was disinherited, disowned, and I fought against the attacks from my daddy meant to hurt me. I traveled through deep waters, across what seemed like endless deserts of loss, loss of family, my children, and my ability to build a life. But I rose above and waded through everything thrown at me and in the end won my freedom…

At the end of my time with my parents, in their last years, my mama one day told me, she never worried about me as much because I was so strong. She said I never needed her as much as the kid sister did….. I needed her, but I was too busy trying to hold things together on my own, protect the sisters, and my kids. I was so very tired but no one noticed. They saw my strength. They ignored my pain, my hurt, and my cries for help were silent. I was the invisible child, the one trying to fix things, protect things, and trying to get away when really what I wanted was just to be seen, heard, and encouraged.

I turned out okay, my life was built on my faith. My faith was built through my childhood experiences with Godly grandparents and yes, even my mom and dad’s insistence on our church upbringing.  Church was our routine, it was a constant source of family time that seemed normal, happy family Sundays and Wednesday nights. My safe space, the time my heart felt a part of things, that got me through the bad times. My parents have passed away now, and my middle sister too. I miss them deeply, think of them often. I am grateful for the forgiveness I gave and was given. I’m living life now with my memories,  and I choose the happy ones. Yes, there were many. My strength was my survival, and it is in part now my isolation. While I have spent my life being a safe space for so many, I now find myself safe only in my isolation. I will not let the chaos and insanity of life that seems so prevalent in our world destroy me, make me quit believing in the good, the just, and the power of God. I will not only survive, I will thrive in ways that allow me to share hope, and kindness toward humanity without a doubt.

It is who I am, an ole’ woman standing steady in her faith, hopeful goodness wins, and truth and justice prevail. Hoping to be seen from time to time by those whom I love. It’s a journey, life that is… we each have our personal struggles and challenges. You just have to keep stepping, and you must believe in both your strength and God’s grace and mercy. BUILD YOUR LIFE ON THE ROCK.

“GOD IS WITHIN HER, SHE WILL.NOT FAIL. GOD WILL HELP HER AT THE BREAK OF DAY.”

Psalm 46:5