Tag Archives: pain

Freedom Comes After Decimation

Freedom. A word that we love. Personal freedom, financial freedom, business freedom. And of course, historical freedom. I come from America, the land of the free. The idea of freedom is hypnotizing. But freedom comes at a price.

In order to be free, we have to be decimated: decimated on a personal level. For some of us that means financial decimation. For others that means mental decimation. For many that means decimation on all levels. Those are the people who really end up experiencing freedom.

I define decimation as being ground to a pulp; as being brought to a state of complete questioning; being in a state of total disrepair. People who are decimated are people who’s preconceived notions have been ground to fine powder; people whose assumptions and ideals have been challenged to a point where they are no longer sure of what’s true and real. Those are the people who are forced to look around and see the world anew-to understand that they know nothing of truth and that freedom comes only from learning the truth.

Many times we think we know what freedom is-until we are decimated.  Then we pick ourselves up from the dust and rubble and realize we really didn’t even know what we were talking about in the first place.  True freedom isn’t money, power and prestige.  True freedom isn’t winning at the sake of causing others to lose.  True freedom is peace and happiness.  How many of us can say we are truly happy?  Most of us believe happiness hinges on what happens in our lives day to day.  That couldn’t be farther from the truth.  Happiness is a peace-an internal knowing of truth-on the inside of us that doesn’t change with the tide of life. It’s knowing who we really are, where we came from, what we are here to do-and being okay with that-despite who and what is happening around us.   It’s our purpose, our mission, our true selves hiding beneath the flesh and bones of our bodies.  It’s our eternal identities.

Our nation was decimated by war before we became free. And now as we look around, we see that once again we are being ground into fine power to awaken from the lies surrounding us to seek freedom again. We’ve lost ground-we’ve forgotten how much we had to lose to gain what we sought so readily. We’ve forgotten who we really are.  So now we’re being forced to lose what we thought we had gained in order to learn how to acquire what we all want and need with renewed vision.  In all honesty, if we could wake up again and call ourselves ‘one nation under God’ we’d be accomplishing a lot.  Oneness is part of freedom as is our eternal truth. This knowledge is part of the life learning process in coming to grips with what freedom really means.  Unfortunately it seems life runs in circles. Cycles of loss and gain.  Being ground into a fine powder to destroy assumptions, prejudices and preconceived notions is a way of coming to freedom and truth. We are all born, live lives that teach us truth and then we graduate to heaven to see what this earth has really taught us. How do we learn? Hardship and pain.

Do you feel like you’ve been ground into fine powder? That you don’t know who you are anymore or what the truth is versus the lies? If you do you’re in good company. It’s common to all of us humans on this planet. When you find yourself in this situation, try to find peace with it. Try to be grateful for the lessons you’re learning. Because if you meet these processes head on and refuse to become bitter, you will eventually find freedom-the freedom and truth you need. Remember: some of the greatest people who lived had to fight the hardest and had to lose darned near everything in order to gain what they really needed to learn. Never give up and never lose hope!

It Wasn’t Her

I saw her in the casket, lying peacefully, wearing the animal print dress she had wanted so badly four years before. We had walked around the store and she followed me, crying, wailing uncharacteristically, for me to buy her the dress.

“Why are you acting like this?” I was irritated. I was so irritated, in fact, that I felt like flinging her across the aisles.

“I want this dress!” she wailed.

“You never act this way. You’re a good kid. Calm. Peaceful. The total opposite of your sister. But now? You’re acting like a monster! I already have $400.00 worth of clothes in this cart for you both. I can’t afford any more. These prices are outrageous! This is why I buy everything at Goodwill!” I stared at her, beyond frustrated.

She insisted on getting the dress. Of course, I caved.

My younger daughter was the peaceful one of my two kids. She was the easygoing one. The one who gave loving advice and huge bear hugs. The one who told everyone that everything would be okay.

Now I was staring at her lifeless body, her cold, hard shell lying in a casket lined with pink satin fabric-her favorite color. The body of my beloved child adorned with the animal print dress she had pined over in the store four years ago.

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We were standing in my younger daughter’s room a few days before.   My older daughter held the animal print dress.  “We have to put it on her, mom,” my older daughter insisted through tears and whimpering. “You know how much she loved it.  It’s what she would have wanted.”

“I know.  Do you remember how she freaked out about that dress when I bought it?” I wiped my eyes, wanting to join my younger daughter in her casket.

“Yes.”

We both broke down. It was inconceivable that she had been yanked from us. Our best friend, our confidant, our love.

We carefully picked out jewelry to match.

“She’ll be beautiful,” my older daughter said. “Just like she’d want to be.”

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How will I live without you, Bubby Girl?  I can’t do this.

I went to her, kneeling in front of the casket. I put my hands over hers, placing one of my best rings on her fingers.

You were with me when I picked this out.  My promise ring to God.  Now it’s yours.

I stared at her face.  That beautiful, angelic face with the pouting lower lip.  Her hair had recently been dyed red.  It looked good on her, falling in soft curls around her cheeks and over her shoulders.

I want to be with you.  

I had been through this before.  I knew all about God and spirits, angels and heaven.  I just didn’t want to acknowledge the pain.  It was then that I heard her voice.

“I’m not in that casket mom.  I’m still with you.”

I felt the familiar salty tears fall from my eyes, down my cheeks and into my mouth as I wept.

I know.  I just miss you.  So much.  Every second of every day.

I stared at her, laying my head on the chest of her icy cold body.  I smelled formaldehyde.

“That’s not me anymore, mom.  Remember.  Now I can always be with you.”

In immense pain, I ran my fingers through her hair, hating the smell and the coldness of her body.

You’re right.  It’s not you anymore.  But I still love you and I always will.  You’ll always be my baby.

I stayed with her a while more as the funeral director closed the doors to the people watching behind me.

I love you, Bubby Girl.  Stay with me forever.  Help me to keep writing and show me how to take pictures like you did.

“I will, Mommy.  I promise.”

Never stop calling me Mommy.  I love how you call me that.

“I won’t, Mommy.  Try to be happy.  Because I’m happy now.”

I ran my hands over her fingers, those beautiful curved fingers that I used to hold in mine.  I got up and told the funeral director he could shut the casket.  As he did, I knew that my time with my baby wasn’t over.  It was just beginning.

 

 

Death

death-poem-picture-by-diamante-lavendar

You think life is forever,
At least that’s how it seems;
Death is just a shadow
In your deepest, darkest dreams.

We don’t want to admit it,
Or dwell upon the pain,
But death is waiting for us
In its own destined time frame.

Death will come and take you
No matter what you say;
Your time to leave’s appointed
In your designated way.

So don’t try to deny it
Or refuse to believe it’s true;
Live your life with purpose
Until death comes for you.

-Diamante Lavendar

Crying For A Savior

The pain you caused
Has left permanent scars
Like armies of demons
In my brain.

I am stilled by agony
In unguarded moments
Like razor blade cuts
Across my heart.

It’s been years
But somehow
Your deathly grip
Still holds me fast;

I crawl
Like a wounded animal
Through the dust and debris
Of the past

Crying for a Savior.

How is it
That after thirty seven years
You still reach me
From the coldness of your grave?

Groping and grasping,
Ripping my flesh off in layers,
Stabbing your evil
Through my heart and soul?

Will I ever be free
To live as I dream of living
Or will I forever be
Your prisoner of anguish and shame?

I deserve to be happy
I dream of it every day
But somehow your memory
Always succeeds

At burying me with you in a Hell you so adeptly created for both of us.

 

Pain Is An Activist

Are you someone who has felt a great amount of pain during your life? Are you in pain right now? I’m talking about every type of pain that exists: mental, physical, spiritual and every other type of pain that you can name.

As a species in general, we try to shy away from pain. I do it as much as the next guy. Let’s face it. Pain sucks. No matter what you’re experiencing, it’s tough to see any good in it at all. But the truth is there IS good in pain. It just takes a lot of guts to acknowledge it.

I just recently saw a post stating that “we are continually faced with great opportunities disguised as insolvable problems” (AmpLIFEied.com).  What a way to look at it!  Our insolvable problems…the ones we can’t seem to figure out that keep us on a hamster’s treadmill are our great opportunities…WOW!  If you tell the wrong person about this philosophy, you could end up with a harsh slap to the face!  But is it true?  I believe it is.

As someone who has been faced with thousands of seemingly unsolvable problems, I’m a first hand witness to the emotional throwback of such a statement.  When we’ve been through a million and one things, the last thought on our mind is, “Oh, great!  Another wonderful opportunity wrapped up in anguish!  Yay!”  When in reality, it is a great opportunity…to GROW into a better person.

Is it really worth the pain?  In the end, yes.  But during the daily fight of turmoil and angst it can almost drive you to insanity.  You have to keep holding onto the hope that some time it will bring blessings beyond comprehension.  But in the meantime, check that temper!  Continually let go of that anxiety!  Growth is never easy but it always brings us to more peaceful understandings of our lives and situations.  Isn’t that what life is about?  To learn as you move through your experiences?

As you examine your current condition, whether it be mental, physical, spiritual or some other type of angst, look at what seems unsolvable.  The truth is, there is always a solution but sometimes we fail to see it or we don’t want to see it.  What ending will the solution bring?  Does it add to your life or take away from it?  Many times the process of taking away adds bigger things down the line.  Do you have the guts to walk through the fire?  To deal with the cards that you’ve been dealt?  Bad things happen to good people.  It’s true.  You have no choice in the matter.  But you do have a choice as to how you will respond to tragedy.

Keep the faith.  Hold onto hope.  You’ll make it through and some day you’ll be a better person for your pain.  I know it’s tough, but don’t ever give up the fight!  Even if it’s debilitating, it will cause you to grow in ways you’ve never imagined.

 

Learning How To Heal

When I was afflicted by the pain and torment of my past, it seemed like I would never be able to heal. For years I wondered if healing was even possible. It seemed like a mountain that I couldn’t climb…as if my pain was too great to even fathom the ability to overcome it.

Had I known that healing truly was possible, I would have had more hope.  My faith was low, my hope even lower.  I asked numerous people who knew of my circumstance if I could ever come out victorious from my situation.  The most hopeful response I received was  “maybe.”

When you’re in the depths of despair for years, surrounded by very few people who are supportive, “maybe” isn’t a good answer.  The word “maybe” caused my despair to deepen.  But by the magic of God’s healing, I eventually overcame my situation.

This is a video I created about what I learned regarding healing.  It’s not as elusive as it seems. In fact, it is possible to heal from the type of trauma I endured.  If you’re in a period of suffering, please take a moment to watch my video.  And know that you, too, can achieve happiness.

She Was In Prison

She lived in a beautiful house with her husband and family. Every day, she kept her house clean and cooked delicious meals. She baked bread and cookies. The smells wafted through her home, making it appear to be a happily lived in sanctuary.

She kissed her children often and told them she loved them. She hugged them and saw them off to school, waving as the bus pulled away from the driveway. Then she went back inside when she was alone and crumpled to the floor. She was in prison.

She felt the pain of the past, the let downs of her life. Her failures, her lost dreams, her wishes that seemed to have washed away with the rains of the seasons. Her nerves were frazzled. Her heart ached. She grasped for the knowledge of how to start over, for the energy to become who she seemed to be on the outside to transform her insides. But the knowledge eluded her. She was forever in prison.

Her children came home and gathered around the dinner table. Her husband sat on the couch and ate. She and her children talked. And laughed. They told her tales about their days. She smiled as she listened to them. She really loved them. Their cheerful voices and their exuberance brought life into her barren soul.

She truly cherished the moments she spent with her family. She went through the motions of each day, but at night’s end, as she crawled into bed, she cried. Desperation filled her. Though she lived a life that others wished for, she was in prison.

She was tormented by thoughts of overdosing.  Of slitting her wrists with razors.  She wished for her existence to be over, but she hung on for the love of her children.

Was it fate that kept her alive?  Was it hope in things one day being different?  She wasn’t sure. But she didn’t want to give up and leave a dark legacy for her children.  So she continued on although she was in prison.

How many people live lives of quiet desperation? Lives filled with depression, PTSD, fear, addiction, physical pain and mental torture? There are many. Too many to count. They feel alone. They feel useless. They feel they can barely make it through another day, let alone another minute.

This blog is for those who are suffering. You are not alone. There are many who feel tortured, some of whom you would never guess.  Keep hanging on and searching for the love to heal. Because it is there.  And you can find it.

You don’t have to be in prison.