We all have bad days. This one tops my list...
I was 11 and I was naive. It was summertime in Kentucky, and our babysitter was the public pool during the day. We would go to the pool around 10am and stay until our parents came home from work. We had rules that our parents placed to protect us, but we were 11 and 14. We knew "so much more than our parents", as I'm sure all teenagers, or at least the honest ones would agree. I have to admit, my life was pretty good. It was the summer before Middle school, after 5th grade and before 6th. I think we had lived in this town for about a year.
One of our house rules was we were to never have boys over. Not without my parents' permission and them being home. So, one of those bright summer days, my sister and I decided we were smarter than our parents and that the rules shouldn't apply to "good" kids like us. I mean, we hadn't smoked or drank or been involved in drugs like some of the people our age. We invited some of our pool friends, who happened to be guys, home with us. They were older than us and we thought we knew them pretty well. My sister invited one while I went over and invited the other, "Wanna come over to our house for lunch today? We're gonna have pizza..." One of them said yes right away, "Sure, why not?"...the other hesitated. "I don't need to do that, I will get in trouble." I said, "no, its okay- our parents won't be home until after 5, we are only getting pizza and then coming back to the pool, we can cool off and chill out for a few minutes, then we are coming right back..." It took me a minute to convince him to come, even though he insisted he not. He was serious- I thought he was exaggerating.
Soon, I would find out he wasn't.
I finally convinced him to come with us and we all walked home to our house. Being the friendly kid I always was, and still proud of painting, I wanted to show them the Lion King Mural I had painted on my wall. It took up the entire wall and was truly a great painting for an 11 year old looking back at it now.
STOP....if I could re-do this part- I would have stayed at the pool that day. Just to let you know when the decision was NOT going in the right direction.
The next hour of my life changed the rest of it. I was raped by my "friend" who thought he would get in trouble, and THIS VERY THING is WHY he thought he would get in trouble. He knew himself more than I did, and I was too naive to listen. I wasn't his first victim, nor would I be his last.
Him and I were alone in my room and my sister and our other friend were eating the pizza we were to have for lunch. While he was raping me, he told me he loved me. At that point, I never wanted to be loved again. No matter who loved me!
My sister came and got me in the room a while later. I remember I was crying and there was blood all over the bed that I was trying to hide because while I didn't really know what just happened, I knew it wasn't good. It physically hurt, emotionally hurt, and although I didn't know it yet, spiritually hurt too. Before he left, he asked, "You know how to clean out right?" uhhhh...."Yeah," was my only response. I mean, did he really think I had been in this situation before? I was only 11! I would have said anything to get him out of my house. I would've said I knew how to build the Eiffel Tower if thats what it took!
I was threatened by 3 of his friends that I would be killed if I ever mentioned this to anyone. So I didn't. My sister, however, didn't know about the threats. So, doing the thing any big sister would do, and should do- she told my mom that day as soon as she walked in the door. She said, "Mom, Misty had sex today." I'm sure she didn't know half of what happened, but I don't blame her for telling. She told what she thought she knew- she herself was only 14! She just knew something bad had happened and bad things should be told. My mom asked, "Misty, is this true? Did you have sex today?" The only response I could think of, knowing I couldn't hide it, was "yeah". My home life would never be the same.
My mom immediately, I think the next day, took me to my first gynecological exam. I'm sure every girls' first visit here isn't just a party, but under these circumstances, it was even worse. Everyone thought I had sex willingly and I was scared to death to say anything differenly. So I didn't.
I was basically treated like a problem child that was way too young to be on this path. The doctor was thankfully a woman and I could tell by the way her demeaning eyes looked at me, she wasn't too proud of why I was there. I was told AIDS could take years to show up, and that it was too soon to really tell much else, but that I was okay that day. She was trying to scare me out of "doing this again". I got the speech on sexually transmitted diseases, pregnancy, death, you name it. They asked my mom if she wanted me on birth control pills at 11, right in front of me, and I think because of my epilepsy, they decided against it. I'm actaully not sure. But I left there with my first feeling of guilt.
I found out shortly after that I had conceived during the rape and my body naturally miscarried. I can't imagine having a child right now that would be 19 and me be 30! I also don't want to imagine what other grief I would have had the choice of enduring had I not miscarried.
I went to my grandmothers 4 hours away to stay for a while so my mom could tell my dad and him not go crazy. He had never gone crazy before, but his daughter had not had sex before either. Life after all that was different at home! I HATED IT! I was someone I wasn't- I felt like a tramp. Like everyone looked at me and saw something that wasn't real. No one knew the truth and no one knew my heart. I cried myself to sleep EVERY NIGHT. I never spoke of it again. Not for 9 years. Every time we were out and my dad would see a young pregnant girl, I would hear, "that could be you, Misty"...."yep" was always my response. In my head, I was living a lie. To my parents and everyone who thought they knew, I was living a pleasureful life in the wrong direction- and I needed to slow down.
The rest of the summer was hard, but I didn't see them at the pool much. It wouldn't be long before 6th grade would start...and so would the reputation.
Looking back on all these feelings, and now knowing God personally as my LORD AND SAVIOR, I understand on a much smaller scale the pain He must have went through talking ALL of OUR sin, none of His own, and carrying it to the cross. We all looked at Him as guilty and only Him and God knew the depth of the truth and the purpose for His pain. God took the innocent and made Him guilty in the world's eyes- ultimately to save the very world who killed Him.
I do believe God took the innocent (me) and made me appear guilty to the world for a short time in order to bring Him Glory in the end. He knew the purpose of the pain, and still knows more about the depth of His plan than I can ever imagine.
I will say one thing, and this will prove itself throughout the next posts, but God's promise is true in His Word, "He will never leave us nor forsake us". (Deuteronomy 31:6 NIV) I was not a believer when all of this was happening, and I had no where to turn, no one to talk to, and certainly no one to hear my cries.
I was alone and I was dead in my soul. I was like the walking dead. My body functioned normally and I appeared to be an unruly teenager, but inside- I was broken, torn, battered, beat down, ugly, worthless, and wanted no one to love me. I would have just assumed died in my sleep because I knew (or felt) like no one cared about the truth. The truth is- had anyone known it, everyone would have cared.
Have you ever felt alone in this world? Like no one has it as bad as you? Like you are involved in something and want out- but are too scared to get out? I have been there. I have shed tears about it long enough to flood an entire house...there is hope! And it is real. There is acceptance, and it isn't from your friends. There is shelter, and it isn't under your covers. There is peace, and it isn't in the peace sign you wear around your neck. There is satisfaction, and it isn't in your acheivements. There is mercy, and it isn't displayed in your self-pity. There is a such thing as love, and it isn't replicated in Hollywood. You will not find what you are looking for at school- you will not hear what your soul longs to hear from your "significant other". You weren't just "born this way". No- God has something bigger planned...
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Saturday, February 25, 2012
People call me "Fifty"
Ya know- blogging is new to me, and so I have decided its rather strange...I mean, who's reading this anyway? I feel as if I'm typing to no one, yet I know everyone can see it. I have yet to feel normal about this. Who are you reading this? I can see the numbers of people reading and those numbers are phenominal! I'm not sure what God has planned with this, but I am continuing to share my story...
If you read my previous post, you'll remember the incident... I learned to talk and sit up and walk again. To prove the doctors wrong, and God very promising, I started Kindergarten when I was 4...instead of 5! Not only did I recover from the incident in ways no one imagined, but I was also excelling at a young age.
I did have a constant struggle with seizures, and do to this day in some ways; and I couldnt say my "r" correctly until I was a freshman in high school. I talked like I was either from Britain or like Elmer Fudd, whichever you want to picture. I can remember so vividly the nights of hours and hours of spech therapy my parents did with me at home. Being a parent now, (of a girl who can not say her "r's"), I can not imagine the hours of work my parents challenged me to do! I always wanted to go to "Daiwy Queen in my daddy's twuck" after I had "pwacticed fow houws". So we would go and it sometimes felt like another pointless night of trying something I was never gonna get. My parents never let me give up and they always encouraged me to try try try until I got it. They were never impatient and they were never HALF as frustrated as I was with myself.
Unfortunately, I dont remember much of my life before I was about 5. I've heard people say they remember specific events from when they were like 2, thats NOT me! I remember walking to Kindergarten to paint with my hands. I had this little apron I used to put on, you know, the plastic ones that smell like glue. I loved to paint. It was like I could say whatever I wanted in my mind and it would come out through the paint. I have an art studio in my house to this day and I still paint to express my feelings.
My memory hasn't improved much since then. I am a mother and I do try hard to challenge myself in areas I don't think others have to, but it is a daily chore for me to just remember. When my husband and I were first dating, he would say things like, "Do you remember when we went here and did this, and how romantic it was?" I would say, "No, we did that? That sounds so sweet, lets do it." He thought I was crazy- but I honestly didnt remember! He is the one who gave me my nickname "Fifty". It's certainly a constant reminder of how much I forget! ;)
Have you ever seen the movie "Fifty First Dates" where Drew Barrymore is in a car accident and she has to be reminded who she is everyday? Well, thats where the name came from...and I very seldom seem to prove it wrong. Its a running joke now, but it does lighten the mood when I'm forgettful! So if you know me and I forget something you told me, please call me or text me and say, "Hey Fifty, don't forget....."
Growing up as a child, I knew of my incident as a toddler and I always seemed to be proud of who I was. Not because I understood it, or could even fathom the blessings God had bestowed upon me, but because I belonged to great family and I loved everyone around me. I was always friendly- never met a stranger. I was just content to be ME!
Tomorrow my post will be long...and hard for me...so please pray for me. It is the post I have dreaded, but the one God will probably want to use the most. (My heart just started beating faster thinking about it.) I will jump ahead 6 years and share ONE day in the life of an 11 year old. It was one day, but it was 9 years of guilt and shame and heartache and grief. If you happen to have or know pre- teen or teenage girls, please feel free to read my post together tomorrow. Feel free to comment on here or look me up on facebook as Misty Marie. I have to admit, I am SO SCARED to say all this on here, but I am convinced that if I can help ONE person with the tablet God has painted for me, called my life, why would I hold it back? He has turned this tablet into a wonderful masterpiece that He is wanting to use in some way. TO HIM BE THE GLORY! please start praying for anyone who reads this tomorrow, and for me that God's words would be typed by my fingers especially tomorrow! God Bless You All and good night!
If you read my previous post, you'll remember the incident... I learned to talk and sit up and walk again. To prove the doctors wrong, and God very promising, I started Kindergarten when I was 4...instead of 5! Not only did I recover from the incident in ways no one imagined, but I was also excelling at a young age.
I did have a constant struggle with seizures, and do to this day in some ways; and I couldnt say my "r" correctly until I was a freshman in high school. I talked like I was either from Britain or like Elmer Fudd, whichever you want to picture. I can remember so vividly the nights of hours and hours of spech therapy my parents did with me at home. Being a parent now, (of a girl who can not say her "r's"), I can not imagine the hours of work my parents challenged me to do! I always wanted to go to "Daiwy Queen in my daddy's twuck" after I had "pwacticed fow houws". So we would go and it sometimes felt like another pointless night of trying something I was never gonna get. My parents never let me give up and they always encouraged me to try try try until I got it. They were never impatient and they were never HALF as frustrated as I was with myself.
Unfortunately, I dont remember much of my life before I was about 5. I've heard people say they remember specific events from when they were like 2, thats NOT me! I remember walking to Kindergarten to paint with my hands. I had this little apron I used to put on, you know, the plastic ones that smell like glue. I loved to paint. It was like I could say whatever I wanted in my mind and it would come out through the paint. I have an art studio in my house to this day and I still paint to express my feelings.
My memory hasn't improved much since then. I am a mother and I do try hard to challenge myself in areas I don't think others have to, but it is a daily chore for me to just remember. When my husband and I were first dating, he would say things like, "Do you remember when we went here and did this, and how romantic it was?" I would say, "No, we did that? That sounds so sweet, lets do it." He thought I was crazy- but I honestly didnt remember! He is the one who gave me my nickname "Fifty". It's certainly a constant reminder of how much I forget! ;)
Have you ever seen the movie "Fifty First Dates" where Drew Barrymore is in a car accident and she has to be reminded who she is everyday? Well, thats where the name came from...and I very seldom seem to prove it wrong. Its a running joke now, but it does lighten the mood when I'm forgettful! So if you know me and I forget something you told me, please call me or text me and say, "Hey Fifty, don't forget....."
Growing up as a child, I knew of my incident as a toddler and I always seemed to be proud of who I was. Not because I understood it, or could even fathom the blessings God had bestowed upon me, but because I belonged to great family and I loved everyone around me. I was always friendly- never met a stranger. I was just content to be ME!
Tomorrow my post will be long...and hard for me...so please pray for me. It is the post I have dreaded, but the one God will probably want to use the most. (My heart just started beating faster thinking about it.) I will jump ahead 6 years and share ONE day in the life of an 11 year old. It was one day, but it was 9 years of guilt and shame and heartache and grief. If you happen to have or know pre- teen or teenage girls, please feel free to read my post together tomorrow. Feel free to comment on here or look me up on facebook as Misty Marie. I have to admit, I am SO SCARED to say all this on here, but I am convinced that if I can help ONE person with the tablet God has painted for me, called my life, why would I hold it back? He has turned this tablet into a wonderful masterpiece that He is wanting to use in some way. TO HIM BE THE GLORY! please start praying for anyone who reads this tomorrow, and for me that God's words would be typed by my fingers especially tomorrow! God Bless You All and good night!
Friday, February 24, 2012
35 Times and Counting...
In my few 30 years here on Earth, I have moved approximately 35 times and somehow, it seems like I'm still counting. That obviously is nothing new. We moved alot when I was a child as well. My parents have always loved to "fix" houses and sell them...Im sure if I asked them how much money they made doing this, it's crazy! We were either "fixing" a new house or being transferred with my dad's job.
One particular time I do not remember was a move when I was 18 months old. We were moving into a new house to us, but an old house to the elderly man moving out. He had a heart condition that required medication and this day was move-in day for us. Mom said she cleaned the entire house before we started moving in and my older sister and I played around the house while the adults moved us in.
Somehow, being the adventurous person I still am- I came across a pretty little piece of "candy" which happened to be a heart pill that belonged the elderly man before us. I guess it was hidden in the carpet and I was the shortest distance to the ground... so I ate it. ( I still LOVE candy...not sure if its because its so pretty- or because its so YUMMY!)
Mom and Dad came around the corner to see their 18 month old little girl DEAD on the floor.
That was ME. They rushed me to the hospital and my heart was stopped for 28 minutes. Any of you in the medical field can only imagine the hope of a normal life my parents were promised...or lack there of. All of the doctors told my parents there was nothing more they could do...I was gone. Mom said one doctor stayed in that room and worked on me. She saw him in the there. A few moments later my heart began to pump again and that doctor walked out and never spoke to anyone. She asked the other doctors who that doctor was and they were all convinced there was no one in the room with me. She believes in angels to this day! So do I.
After the incident, I was unable to speak, sit up, walk, feed myself, or anything for that matter. I was a vegetable lying in a bed completely dependant as if I was newborn all over again. Only this time, with no hope from anyone of getting much better. My parents were told I would not read past a Kindergarten reading level- EVER! My social skills would probably not develop normally and my body may not function correctly due to the lack of oxygen for so long.
And here I am...I have a Kindergartner and a 2nd grader that I excel far above in reading...and math...and social skills. I do believe God had a bigger plan. This incident did cause some physical and social and mental hardships throughout my life that I will speak of in future posts, but there is never a day I can complain about the accomplishments God has placed before me.
Because of events like this when I was young, and even recent incidents that we may question God's purpose, I know His plan is ALWAYS better than OURS! My youth minister, whom I shall keep his name silent, used to tell us if you're always driving looking in the rear view mirror, you're bound to crash moving forward! From that day on, every day was a challenge, and to this day I struggle some days in some ways- but I choose to think of it like this.... If I was "normal" or "perfect" or "predictable", I wouldn't be God's workmanship! He is making me into the person He wants me to be. I am a tool for Him. My life is a gateway He will use to get others to Him. All I have to do is be moldable, vulnerable, and teachable. I must wake up every day and say, "Get behind me Satan" because Satan is real and he knows my weaknesses. He knows that I get frustrated when I physically can not remember things, when I can't focus, and when I get self-conscience about my past. I choose daily to remind Satan he looses in the end! He is already defeated and I stand on the opposite side, in the name of Jesus Christ- whom my soul loves!
I honestly believe if we do not stand up against the evils in this world- including Satan himself- we are truly giving ourselves over to the weakness of our sinful nature. There is a quote I remember, "You have to stand for SOMETHING or you will fall for anything..." Im not sure who said this, but it is quoted all over the place. God's Word tells us to "STAND FIRM" Ephesians 6:13 ...I am thankful I can stand. I am thankful that I can breathe and most of all- I am thankful my God saw me as WORTH IT to die for me.
I can not exactly answer WHY God chose to send me back to Earth that day, and no I never saw a light or a tunnel or do I remember sitting on Jesus' lap, but one thing I do know to be true, and that is God has a purpose for my life- whether that is big or small- and I am here to allow Him to fullfill that purpose through this ONE life- whatever that may be.
One particular time I do not remember was a move when I was 18 months old. We were moving into a new house to us, but an old house to the elderly man moving out. He had a heart condition that required medication and this day was move-in day for us. Mom said she cleaned the entire house before we started moving in and my older sister and I played around the house while the adults moved us in.
Somehow, being the adventurous person I still am- I came across a pretty little piece of "candy" which happened to be a heart pill that belonged the elderly man before us. I guess it was hidden in the carpet and I was the shortest distance to the ground... so I ate it. ( I still LOVE candy...not sure if its because its so pretty- or because its so YUMMY!)
Mom and Dad came around the corner to see their 18 month old little girl DEAD on the floor.
That was ME. They rushed me to the hospital and my heart was stopped for 28 minutes. Any of you in the medical field can only imagine the hope of a normal life my parents were promised...or lack there of. All of the doctors told my parents there was nothing more they could do...I was gone. Mom said one doctor stayed in that room and worked on me. She saw him in the there. A few moments later my heart began to pump again and that doctor walked out and never spoke to anyone. She asked the other doctors who that doctor was and they were all convinced there was no one in the room with me. She believes in angels to this day! So do I.
After the incident, I was unable to speak, sit up, walk, feed myself, or anything for that matter. I was a vegetable lying in a bed completely dependant as if I was newborn all over again. Only this time, with no hope from anyone of getting much better. My parents were told I would not read past a Kindergarten reading level- EVER! My social skills would probably not develop normally and my body may not function correctly due to the lack of oxygen for so long.
And here I am...I have a Kindergartner and a 2nd grader that I excel far above in reading...and math...and social skills. I do believe God had a bigger plan. This incident did cause some physical and social and mental hardships throughout my life that I will speak of in future posts, but there is never a day I can complain about the accomplishments God has placed before me.
Because of events like this when I was young, and even recent incidents that we may question God's purpose, I know His plan is ALWAYS better than OURS! My youth minister, whom I shall keep his name silent, used to tell us if you're always driving looking in the rear view mirror, you're bound to crash moving forward! From that day on, every day was a challenge, and to this day I struggle some days in some ways- but I choose to think of it like this.... If I was "normal" or "perfect" or "predictable", I wouldn't be God's workmanship! He is making me into the person He wants me to be. I am a tool for Him. My life is a gateway He will use to get others to Him. All I have to do is be moldable, vulnerable, and teachable. I must wake up every day and say, "Get behind me Satan" because Satan is real and he knows my weaknesses. He knows that I get frustrated when I physically can not remember things, when I can't focus, and when I get self-conscience about my past. I choose daily to remind Satan he looses in the end! He is already defeated and I stand on the opposite side, in the name of Jesus Christ- whom my soul loves!
I honestly believe if we do not stand up against the evils in this world- including Satan himself- we are truly giving ourselves over to the weakness of our sinful nature. There is a quote I remember, "You have to stand for SOMETHING or you will fall for anything..." Im not sure who said this, but it is quoted all over the place. God's Word tells us to "STAND FIRM" Ephesians 6:13 ...I am thankful I can stand. I am thankful that I can breathe and most of all- I am thankful my God saw me as WORTH IT to die for me.
I can not exactly answer WHY God chose to send me back to Earth that day, and no I never saw a light or a tunnel or do I remember sitting on Jesus' lap, but one thing I do know to be true, and that is God has a purpose for my life- whether that is big or small- and I am here to allow Him to fullfill that purpose through this ONE life- whatever that may be.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Day 1
I was born in 1981...my mom said I was beautiful when she first saw me...then I was delivered back to the room and SHE SENT ME BACK! Said I didnt belong to her because I was SO UGLY! They double-checked the wristband and it was correct. I belonged to her....
She snuck in the back entrance of the apartments when she brought me home and covered me up so no one would see me. I was purple, swollen, you couldn't hardly see my eyes. I was not the "perfect baby" she imagined showing off. Neighbors found out I was home and she said she had never been so embarrased to show off this baby!
...That was ME!
I'm starting this blog at the age of 30 because I have been convicted by GOD to share my story. The masterpiece He has created! I believe we would NEVER write our lives the way God has, but those of us that serve God would NEVER re-write it any differently! Sometimes in my life up to this point, it has been very hard for me to share the story of how I grew to be me- because alot of people look at me like I'm crazy or exaggerating, or lying. I can't see the look on your face right now, and you can't see me. Right now, I like it that way. This is me venturing out. This is me-but this is God's story!
Some days will be filled with tears, joy, fear, hate, drugs, sex, and maybe even rock and roll, but it all fits in my cupboard. At the end of the day when we lay our heads down, we all go into our private cupboards and shut the door. We shut out the rest of the world and we have to be true to ourselves. We can only hide the truth of our lives from everyone except God and ourselves.
Each day I will post a new day in my cupboard. What I saw...what God was doing, but what only me and God knew. Alot of this will be surreal. Alot of this will seem dark and demented and evil. It was. And only God and I knew it was there. So now, I'm inviting you into my cupboard to look around. Pick items up and touch them, smell them, look through them, but one thing I do ask- please use them!
If there is ONE person that can benefit from this blog and the story of me that God has created- it will be worth EVERY SECOND! God wants to work through me, I am only a tool. Please use me. Please share this blog with any girl, boy, woman, or man who has ever suffered with low self-esteem, feeling alone, suicidal thoughts, low self-worth, or wanting to feel accepted. Please tell me your thoughts, your needs, your prayer requests, or any special needs of children and teens. If I am able to help I will.
I understand the depth of this blog. And I am truly scared. I know the POWER God posseses and I know I can do NOTHING without Him! (John 15:5) I am just a girl. I am just a person like you with a story. You have one too. I was just told to share mine here. So here I go. Those of you that know me well, please pray for me. ;)
She snuck in the back entrance of the apartments when she brought me home and covered me up so no one would see me. I was purple, swollen, you couldn't hardly see my eyes. I was not the "perfect baby" she imagined showing off. Neighbors found out I was home and she said she had never been so embarrased to show off this baby!
...That was ME!
I'm starting this blog at the age of 30 because I have been convicted by GOD to share my story. The masterpiece He has created! I believe we would NEVER write our lives the way God has, but those of us that serve God would NEVER re-write it any differently! Sometimes in my life up to this point, it has been very hard for me to share the story of how I grew to be me- because alot of people look at me like I'm crazy or exaggerating, or lying. I can't see the look on your face right now, and you can't see me. Right now, I like it that way. This is me venturing out. This is me-but this is God's story!
Some days will be filled with tears, joy, fear, hate, drugs, sex, and maybe even rock and roll, but it all fits in my cupboard. At the end of the day when we lay our heads down, we all go into our private cupboards and shut the door. We shut out the rest of the world and we have to be true to ourselves. We can only hide the truth of our lives from everyone except God and ourselves.
Each day I will post a new day in my cupboard. What I saw...what God was doing, but what only me and God knew. Alot of this will be surreal. Alot of this will seem dark and demented and evil. It was. And only God and I knew it was there. So now, I'm inviting you into my cupboard to look around. Pick items up and touch them, smell them, look through them, but one thing I do ask- please use them!
If there is ONE person that can benefit from this blog and the story of me that God has created- it will be worth EVERY SECOND! God wants to work through me, I am only a tool. Please use me. Please share this blog with any girl, boy, woman, or man who has ever suffered with low self-esteem, feeling alone, suicidal thoughts, low self-worth, or wanting to feel accepted. Please tell me your thoughts, your needs, your prayer requests, or any special needs of children and teens. If I am able to help I will.
I understand the depth of this blog. And I am truly scared. I know the POWER God posseses and I know I can do NOTHING without Him! (John 15:5) I am just a girl. I am just a person like you with a story. You have one too. I was just told to share mine here. So here I go. Those of you that know me well, please pray for me. ;)
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