Therapy (6) {Parental Discretion Advised}

Six weeks. Six weeks ago I walked into what would soon become my safe haven. I sat for the first time on what I would come to think of as my couch. I opened up to a woman who would soon become my map reader in an important journey. Six weeks ago, I began therapy...and I've brought all of you along with me. After laying the foundation, discovering tools and skills to use, seeing healing as a reality, and feeling the positive changes within me, M.T. decided I was ready for a field trip. On this sixth week of therapy, what I came away with that I want to pass along to you all is light. This field trip required no physical travel. We were going to revisit a memory...go back in time. No DeLorean necessary. (Although I did have the temptation to yell, "Great Scott!!") M.T. led us back to a certain room. This room was an upstairs room with nothing but an old mattress in it. It was THE room. Attrocious things happened in this room. To say the least, I was not excited about this trip. M.T. assured me of my safety and urged me to enter the room as I am today, a 38 year old wife and mother. I was able to walk in and view the little girl-me on that mattress. I almost turned and ran, but I was not alone. M.T. had come too and was standing right beside me. She walked right into the room with boldness and purpose. I thought she was going to pull the dark figure away from little girl-me, but she didn't. She walked to every wall and created a window, then she opened every one, letting in beautiful light. She didn't stop there. She walked to the center of this room and opened up the rooftop! Light flooded in! It was warm, luxurious light. But there came an even brighter light from somewhere in the room. M.T. urged me to look at the mattress. Seriously? This dirty mattress laying on the dirty floor of this dirty man's house had taken up residence in my heart and would not be washed clean. Standing there in this room, in my mind, I could smell the evil. I smelled him. I smelled his flesh and heard his whispering voice, which was sickening with arousal. I could not look. As I've said before, M.T. is no joke. She firmly encouraged me to look. And I did. That light, the mysterious light that had added such a glow to the room, was coming from little girl-me! From her-my inner core, this pure, white light emanated and shone. I saw things clearly for the first time in decades. What God had intended for me; what God had formed in me; what God had entrusted to me was locked safely away inside me. Unreachable. Purity, worthiness, innocence...it was there in that core light that lay out of his reach. My strength, abities, gifts, and talents were all bound tightly inside me where he could never touch. My potential, my laughter, my dreams, my joy....all there. Locked. He could paw away and never reach them. I saw the soul God had breathed into the body this creature would soon violate and that soul was intact! That soul was encased in light. Inside of little girl-me. Inside of 38 year old wife and mother me! It had always been here. I had focused so long on the handprints he'd left on the outside that I'd ignored the completely fresh and untouched light inside! Pretend with me that you were locked safely inside your home while Satan scratched at your door. When morning came and he was gone, would you then put your life's focus on your scratched up door? Everything inside, everything of value, is safe...unharmed! Please hear me. The trauma is real. The liberties he took on that mattress, that hayloft, all of the places he saw opportunity...were wretched. He was wrong and committed vile acts. It is imperative now for me to let the scratched door be what it is. It is scratched. It is marred with the finger-lashes of Satan. And the treasure behind the door is safe. That must be acknowledged as well. All of the facts are important! I must see what happened in the past with eyes seeking whole truths. For your own journey, if you can, go back to THE room. See the light. It is there. It is still there inside of you! After such an exhausting session, I've spent the last few days sleeping or lounging about. Tonight, Mark is taking me out to dinner. Part of me doesn't want to put forth the effort of getting gussied up. But I have only to close my eyes to see little girl-me, light shining, and I think, "She deserves a night out!" She's finally getting the respect she's longed for...from her 38 year old self. Continue sharing your journies with me through emails and texting. I love all of you and I KNOW you are strong enough to plow on in this healing process! This little light of mine? Well...I'm gonna let it shine!