(For an explanation on this and other posts under “Raw, Real and Unplugged” see this post.)
Here again are a couple of excerpts from my journal. Lots of deep processing these days… thus the many ‘Unplugged’ posts of late. Certainly there will be seasons for Pea-Projects and for Cooking down the road; but this is a season for dreams and deep thinking. Best to go with the season. And for me this season includes lessons in appropriate GRIEF. Sounds delightful doesn’t it? Ick! Ewww! Yuck! … I agree. And yet I am finding that Grief is sometimes the Path that leads to Joy.
If you dare to join me as I wander this path, and if you find your own self within these stories and experiences, I hope you also find Hope and Joy here as well.
Love and Blessings Sweet Ones!
June 1, 2013 9 a.m. ish
I had an interesting reaction to a seemingly simple dream last night. In the dream all things were as they are now (circumstantially etc.). I was attending a small conference led by two ladies that I look up to. I attended hopeful for breakthrough, and excited for the small group setting, thinking maybe I would get some personal attention from the leaders. I was hoping for encouragement… to be noticed… to be called out, and to have the identity and calling I feel inside of me confirmed and affirmed. But as the conference carried on there was nothing of the sort to be had for me. I remained unnoticed. Almost to the point of feeling intentionally shunned. A perceived judgment (something I have strongly thought and believed over the years) coming to the surface—a feeling that others in the room, particularly the leadership were put off by me and felt I was too snooty and prideful to be bothered with. I felt they pushed me away and it was almost like they felt intimidated by me… strange… because it was I who felt lowly and intimidated by these “great” women. That intimidation seemed to be what led them to judge me as prideful as they wanted/needed to find fault in me.
And I still desperately wanted their approval and their blessing… to be taken under their wings and mentored, to be seen for who I really am, to be cared for, looked after, and trained. I felt “If I am indeed so prideful as they think I am, then why does nobody help me!?!? I do not want to be prideful! I want to be rid of ALL that hinders me from walking uprightly.”
The conference was wrapping up and people beginning to disperse. I waited and lingered and HOPED and HOPED I might be called out—noticed—but was not. So I began to make myself known… gently but undeniably… and the leadership (I felt) was irritated and eager to close the session so they could go home, though maintained their composure. One of the leaders in an attempt to bring closure asked the following question to which she presumed no one would answer… “Is there anyone here who has NOT been ministered to AT ALL yet during the conference?” And no one did answer because all HAD BEEN ministered to… except me. I shouted and raised my hand “Me! Me! I haven’t been ministered to!”
So the leader and a few of the others came over to me out of obligation—eager to be done with the conference so they could move on. I was kneeling and bowed on the floor when they all came around me—desperate to receive. The leader spoke boldly, “Rise up child.” I obediently stood upright. Hands reached out and were laid upon me. The leader spoke again in “prophecy”… “Dear one… WAIT… for the year of your favor and grace…”
I did not hear beyond that. I had crumbled to the floor and deep sobs rose up within me. The reaction began at the word “WAIT” and I wondered why my Lord’s Favor and Grace was delayed? I had been waiting so long already! The God I have come to know in my heart these past years Loves me extremely and endlessly as a Beloved Father Loves a Beloved Daughter or as a Husband Deeply Loves His Precious and Desired Wife. Why would THIS Father, THIS Husband tell me to “wait” again after I’ve already waited for so long? And not that I would not or will not wait, but my Lord would speak Hope and Comfort and Encouragement to me if my waiting must persist for another season… and if it must persist I would translate that to mean that my training was not yet complete… and Truly I want to finish the course. But her voice and her words over me invoked deep DEEP grief. It came up from the depths of me and I crumbled and wailed and could not hear what else she might be saying. In fact, I did not want to hear! Her words grieved me. I came to that place for Hope and encouragement, which I had to dig for, almost beg for, and the very first word spoken over me was the very word I did not want to hear.
The team picked me up and I could see the leader had stopped the prophecy to pray over me. I could almost physically “see” a long, continuous, rubbery strip being pulled up from deep within me… like the film a paint can gets on top when the can is left open for too long. The leader seemed satisfied that whatever “evil” she saw in me earlier was now coming to the fore.
My grief was so deep… grief of unfulfilled longing and expectation… grief that followed years and years of waiting and waiting and waiting… to be noticed and called out and accepted, to be blessed. So deep that in the natural that same grief rose up and I awoke from the dream sobbing—in real life!
(Now awake from my dream and in the natural…)
Sobbing in my bed. Uncontrollably. And loud. Loud enough to wake Dusty who tried to comfort me and stir me out of whatever sadness my dream had invoked. Loud enough to wake Ted who also started crying. But I was too racked by my own sobs to go and comfort my baby. And all I could brokenly say to Dusty was “It’s so silly!” “I-don’t-even-know-why-I-am-crying-” “There were these Christian ladies” “And one lady was speaking over me” “And she told me to WAIT!!!” More sobbing… and sobbing… and sobbing. Until I finally calmed myself and was able to snuggle in and resume sleep.
And here I sit this morning. Wondering what that was all about. Unable to deny the deepness of it. But not understanding it.
Going back into the dream I feel so sad and irritated with those women. I don’t want them to touch me or to speak over me because I feel the power of their words, but am not certain that the words they speak are Truth. And then I am confronted again with the old judgment of “Prideful” “Unwilling to accept correction”—but I AM WILLING to accept correction. I really want to! But I’m not sure their correction is ‘correct’!! And I feel controlled and manipulated by them rather than set free.
I am irritated with religion and with “Christians” who act as though they have it all together. I like their words and many of their teachings, but their actions do not always match up. I feel I have mostly been shunned or received judgment from their hands and I’m not so sure I want to hear anymore. I feel like their words are weaving me into a trap and I don’t want to be trapped… I want to know Truth… to be FREE. To BE the ME You made me to be, not someone else’s version of that.
June 3, 2013 Monday 7:32 a.m.
My warts are leaving!!!
This is the second time now Lord! Amazing!
And SO cool!
Apparently for me warts are a physical manifestation of stored grief.
This is the third morning past the silly dream where I woke myself up sobbing. Funny enough, before going to bed that night (before the dream) I was talking to Dusty about my warts… two of them on my left foot, one centered on the ball of my foot and one centered in the pad at the bottom of my big toe… both of them hurt when I stood on that foot, but were mainly just a constant annoyance. At Polly’s suggestion I tried using apple cider vinegar… soak a cotton ball and tape it to the warts leaving it to sit overnight… in the morning the pain was gone, and all that remained of my warts were two holes where they used to be. Unfortunately that only lasted a few days, and low and behold the warts would return in full force. Repeat… cider vinegar… warts disappear… three days later back again. I cycled through this process at least 5 times always with the same result… I clearly was not getting to the root of the problem. SO Friday night I am talking to Dusty about these annoying warts, resolving that “tomorrow I better get the cider vinegar out again… maybe a couple of doses this time—to really hit them hard” then went to bed… and had “The Dream”.
All this time in the back of my mind I am remembering my last wart episode.
In the States a few years back I had several warts on my hand (I think my left). Again, I tried everything I could think of (didn’t know about the cider vinegar back then) to the point that I finally grit my teeth and started to literally rip the warts out piece by piece… this only resulted in lots of pain and lots of blood.
Marcy was visiting me one day and I mentioned my wart woes to her. Before she left our house that day she said, “Tica, I think I have revelation on your warts!” (She surprised herself) “I think if you will cry the warts will go away.”
That’s silly!!! Cry?! And my warts will leave?!
But I was desperate.
I’m not a crier. It doesn’t come easy for me. I’ve often called myself emotionally constipated. But after she said that, any time I felt even the slightest urge to cry, rather than swallow-hard and push it back like I was accustomed to doing, I would push into the emotion and squeeze out a tear or two. I can’t even remember the specifics of those tears, but all I know is that after about a week of being intentional about crying (or what I realized later was that I was learning to GRIEVE appropriately) my warts TOTALLY disappeared! Completely! Not a trace. And they never returned.
So here I was again. Facing a new set of warts, and remembering how ‘tears’ had cured my last bout. But try as I might this time around—NO TEARS. I can’t just conjure these things up you know! Crying is serious business!
But low and behold—You did it for me! You brought forth the tears that were held captive deep inside… the ones that were lodged so deep within my being that they caused my physical cells to grieve… manifesting as warts. You brought those trapped tears… the ones I didn’t even know existed… all the way up from the deepest part of me and helped me Gently to express them/release them so that my cells could be free of the Grief that had been lodged within them. That was awesome! How did You do that? Let’s do that again!
Mostly I just want to say… Thanks. Thank You so much 🙂
And now I have TWO examples of the same theory… Unresolved grief=warts. (At least in my body.)
What other amazing things do You have to show me!!! I am certainly open to Seeing!
**I had previously ended these posts with a note stating that I will not be posting comments under this section. However, I am aware of how silly that is since this is “RAW REAL and UNPLUGGED”… it’s meant to be rugged. Therefore, I WILL be posting your comments here unless you specifically ask otherwise. And you may also continue to send any thoughts and questions you might have for me to firstname.lastname@example.org.
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