Living sacrifice as a child


I am a living sacrifice for stained blows

of childhood years branded in my mind,

feelings and memories I do not want to know,

yet deep inside are the rooms,

where violence and secrets are stored.



I reach out to be held.

I stretch my arms for my body to be caressed.

I cry to be comforted.

I quiver for lack of it all.


The child within holds her blanket near

clutching the pain

close to her heart, daily bleeding the agony.


The future is a blur

distant and feared.


The past holds

ill remembered events.


The present, mixed emotions,

ready to be sorted in appropriate

measures – to be lived.


In this battle in my heads as an abused child, it appeared as if my suffering would never end.

I saw no way out from the emotional bleeding that occurred due to the intense, extreme ongoing pain and agony.  I was an adult, yet, I carried in me, the eternal scars of the violence that assaulted who I was as a small child, an innocent young girl.

The remnants of what violence did to me, became buried in the deepest core of my self as a weighted burden I knew not how to handle.  Fragments of sensations, messages and the rage became infused into my flesh and I became the one who did nothing to deserve such callous and horrific treatment by a monster named dad.

It was not until I became disillusioned with professionals, dismayed at not progressing, and desperate for help to change, did a turning point come in my life.   It was after struggling many years in the demise of what child abuse had done to me, where I decided to take charge of my life in surrendering all of where I was, all of who I had become and all of what had been done to me, to the Lord Jesus Christ.

I learned to place my trust in God, wholly and fully consecrating myself to His ways in order to become who He had created me to as a woman.

I was shattered beyond broken.  Dismayed and with nothing left of my own to try to make it anymore.  I changed my focus from dwelling on my symptoms to the One who had the power and ability to help in a supernatural way, the Holy Spirit.

I began a new routine. One of daily reading and meditating on scriptures. One of turning to God attentively listening for the Spirit’s voice and leading.  I followed this voice entering into long hours in prayer, worship and communing with God.

This was not an automatic process, nor did it come without me taking responsibility for those areas in my life that needed changing, than relying on the Spirit to do the changing.  It was hard work that took 100% of my energies and focus in seeking God, leaving the rest alone, and centering myself in His realm.
I learned self-discipline, developed new habits and learned the art of practicing spiritual disciplines daily, drawing near to the bosom of the One who infused in me His Spirit, replacing my scars with His, washing my wounds by the shed blood of Christ, and reconciling me to the Father, granting me freedom from the hold my past had on me.

I  became a new woman.  One who knew freedom from the jailed prison I endured as an adult for many years.  One who will always be grateful to the One in whose strength I am, now able to be authentic and real.


Living Intentionally



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