In January, my husband and I celebrated 3 years of sobriety. I am a recovering Meth addict. Every time I watch "Celebrity Rehab" I see a little bit of myself in each of the patients, but especially in this last episode (Season 3's "Family Weekend".)
I look back on pictures of when I was younger and think, "How did this happen?" and it tears me up inside.
I grew up as a Preacher's Kid, my dad is an Evangelist and our family sang together in a Southern Gospel group so we traveled a lot. I knew right from wrong.
At about the age of 7, my sister and I found out we were adopted, and I think that is when we started crumbling. By the time I was 13, my sister had already moved out of the house and in with someone else. The next year, I met our biological parents and confusion really set in. When I was 15, my sister moved back. I remember nights where she was vomiting from being hung over and the stories she told me of being raped and drugged. Then I got sent away to a place called "Cal Farley's Girlstown, U.S.A." It is a place for troubled teens, but I didn't think I was troubled - my sister was and I had to take her place. I harbored ill feelings for that, and to a certain extent, still do. When I graduated, I moved back home. In 2 years, I found myself at my boyfriend's friend's house, smoking marijuana. Shortly after that, we went to a Dallas night club (rave scene) where I tried ecstasy. My boyfriend was abusive and he would put a pillow over my head and punch it, he'd get in my face cussing at me, he even raped me. He even pimped me out - I became a prostitute. I didn't want to, but it was either be a prostitute or get beat. One day, after we had broken up, he convinced me to try "liquid ecstasy." I threw up from excitement. We started smoking and I wound up smoking most by myself, with him laughing and telling me to smoke until it felt like I was rolling, then to smoke more.
That night, I had an appointment with a client - my ex boyfriend's boss. I kept blacking out and I was even convulsing at one point. When I left, my ex came to pick me up, then took me deep into Dallas to a porn store.
I remember walking in, buying a few things then going to "watch some pornography" in the private rooms. Once we got through the first two doors into the dark hallway, we saw a man who was wearing only his socks, standing in a doorway, rubbing on himself. My ex told him that if he paid for the movie, he could watch us have sex. The man quickly grabs his clothes and follows us into a room. I was told to take off my clothes and when I did, I blacked out. I woke up dazed on the floor. This continued on through the night. I felt sick, so I went to the bathroom and shoved my hand down my throat, trying to make myself throw up. When I couldn't throw up, I went back to find my ex. He led me into a room full of naked men, all stroking themselves. He told them that if they paid for the movie, they could watch us have sex. I remember being naked, having sex and looking over to see a man with bumps on his penis reaching out to touch me. I said, "Don't let him touch me," then I blacked out. When we left, I was drenched in sweat. I tried to call in to work the next day, but I had to come in. My ex promised he'd drive me, but when he didn't, I had to drive myself. I honestly don't know how I got to work without getting killed.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
My Thoughts on Easter
Ah, as I sit here, I feel a stirring in my heart. I'm not quite too sure what is going on or what is going to happen, but I know that something is coming.
I've sat with a dear friend of mine at coffee and had really deep conversations with her. One of the topics was about our Easter drama. If you do not already know, our Easter program was called "Come Alive". Our drama had three characters: the first was a man who had worked so hard to make a life for his family, only to feel forgotten and left behind by the ones he worked so hard to provide for - Is he still a part of his family or is his job now all he has?; the second was a woman who does everything for her family - dishes, cleaning, cooking, driving...the list is never-ending. She doesn't have time for herself since she's always doing for everyone else - Is she defined by what she does instead of who she is?; the last was a teen who is depressed and feels alone. The teen is a cutter, trying hard to resolve the pain in her life, but getting nowhere. She's lost herself along the way of trying to find freedom - Is she always going to be a slave to the scars or will the captive be set free?
I've heard that a lot of people said that the Easter drama was "too depressive for Easter", but is it really too depressive or have we made more of Easter than we should that we lose sight of what the true meaning is?
I mean, for goodness sakes, we celebrate when something good happens, not when something heartbreaking happens. Stop and think about it for a while. Easter draws more people that usually do not come to church than most other Sundays. So, in essence, these people are lost. Is that a reason to celebrate?!
Isn't Palm Sunday more of a celebration? "Hallelujiah! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosannah!" Jesus is riding in on the back of a donkey, people are celebrating, throwing palm leaves down in his path. Their eyes are filled with tears of joy - here comes their redeemer!
But Easter Sunday, man that was quite the weekened. Jesus stood trial against Barabbas - a criminal - and the guilty was set free while the innocent man was condemned to death. These tears were from broken hearts, mourning hearts, hearts filled with desperation, hearts filled with sorrow. Jesus is hanging on the cross, hardly recognizable as a human - his beard has been ripped out and there is a crown of throrns upon his head. He struggles for each breath he takes, blood pours from his body. He did nothing wrong, yet he took the blame and instead of calling Angels to pull him off of the cross, he suffered and died so that we could live. That death belonged to us, yet Jesus paid it all. And, as he draws his final breath, he says, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do. Into thy hands I commend my spirit." The earth shakes and quakes, the sky is black as night and silence falls acorss the land.
Sure, WE know that Christ resurrects on Sunday morning with the keys to death, hell and the grave, but back then, they didn't know it. I mean, Jesus did say something about coming back, but how could someone come back to life after such a terrible death?
Imagine their hearts, still filled with sorrow, going to take care of Jesus' body on Sunday morning to find that the stone had been rolled away. If it were me, I would have screamed and cried, "someone took his body - his grave has been robbed. I'll never see my Jesus again." Yet down comes an Angel, who asks, "Why are you looking for the living among the dead?"
At this point in time, they're still mourning the death of Jesus. When they see Jesus, they're in shock, "Master, is that really you? You look so different - where's the blood? How do I know that it is really you?" And he tells Thomas, "Touch the wounds, they're real. I am who I say I am - I am Jesus. I have conquered the grave. Death has no power over me."
Sure, we think that this is more than enough reason to celebrate - which is fine, but you have to realize that we celebrate because we have accepted Jesus' sacrifice and have accepted his gift of freedom, but there are people in our churches that still live in bondage, they're still prisioners to sin. How can we celebrate when there is so much work to be done? How can we celebrate when there are lives that are incomplete, people are dying and they're looking to fill that void in their hearts. We forget that we were once lost and in need of saving, we think that saving is the end of the story...but really, it doesn't end there.
We are called to share the good news, to reach out to those who are lost. We are called to be light in darkness, to be salt to the Earth and if we're too busy celebrating on Easter instead of reaching out, people go home as empty as they came, still searching for something more. That something more is Christ and we are supposed to be Christ to them and if they don't find Christ in his home - a church, how do you think they're really going to accept him when someone tries to share the good news?
"Come to church with me! I want to introduce you to Jesus. He can take your pain away and make you whole."
"No thanks, I've already been there and there's nothing there for me."
So, depressive? Too depressive? For Easter? What is the greater tragedy? That we have to sit through something that is hard to hear or that someone isn't reached because we didn't push the barriers, we didn't push past the normal to reach out to the lost?
I've sat with a dear friend of mine at coffee and had really deep conversations with her. One of the topics was about our Easter drama. If you do not already know, our Easter program was called "Come Alive". Our drama had three characters: the first was a man who had worked so hard to make a life for his family, only to feel forgotten and left behind by the ones he worked so hard to provide for - Is he still a part of his family or is his job now all he has?; the second was a woman who does everything for her family - dishes, cleaning, cooking, driving...the list is never-ending. She doesn't have time for herself since she's always doing for everyone else - Is she defined by what she does instead of who she is?; the last was a teen who is depressed and feels alone. The teen is a cutter, trying hard to resolve the pain in her life, but getting nowhere. She's lost herself along the way of trying to find freedom - Is she always going to be a slave to the scars or will the captive be set free?
I've heard that a lot of people said that the Easter drama was "too depressive for Easter", but is it really too depressive or have we made more of Easter than we should that we lose sight of what the true meaning is?
I mean, for goodness sakes, we celebrate when something good happens, not when something heartbreaking happens. Stop and think about it for a while. Easter draws more people that usually do not come to church than most other Sundays. So, in essence, these people are lost. Is that a reason to celebrate?!
Isn't Palm Sunday more of a celebration? "Hallelujiah! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosannah!" Jesus is riding in on the back of a donkey, people are celebrating, throwing palm leaves down in his path. Their eyes are filled with tears of joy - here comes their redeemer!
But Easter Sunday, man that was quite the weekened. Jesus stood trial against Barabbas - a criminal - and the guilty was set free while the innocent man was condemned to death. These tears were from broken hearts, mourning hearts, hearts filled with desperation, hearts filled with sorrow. Jesus is hanging on the cross, hardly recognizable as a human - his beard has been ripped out and there is a crown of throrns upon his head. He struggles for each breath he takes, blood pours from his body. He did nothing wrong, yet he took the blame and instead of calling Angels to pull him off of the cross, he suffered and died so that we could live. That death belonged to us, yet Jesus paid it all. And, as he draws his final breath, he says, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do. Into thy hands I commend my spirit." The earth shakes and quakes, the sky is black as night and silence falls acorss the land.
Sure, WE know that Christ resurrects on Sunday morning with the keys to death, hell and the grave, but back then, they didn't know it. I mean, Jesus did say something about coming back, but how could someone come back to life after such a terrible death?
Imagine their hearts, still filled with sorrow, going to take care of Jesus' body on Sunday morning to find that the stone had been rolled away. If it were me, I would have screamed and cried, "someone took his body - his grave has been robbed. I'll never see my Jesus again." Yet down comes an Angel, who asks, "Why are you looking for the living among the dead?"
At this point in time, they're still mourning the death of Jesus. When they see Jesus, they're in shock, "Master, is that really you? You look so different - where's the blood? How do I know that it is really you?" And he tells Thomas, "Touch the wounds, they're real. I am who I say I am - I am Jesus. I have conquered the grave. Death has no power over me."
Sure, we think that this is more than enough reason to celebrate - which is fine, but you have to realize that we celebrate because we have accepted Jesus' sacrifice and have accepted his gift of freedom, but there are people in our churches that still live in bondage, they're still prisioners to sin. How can we celebrate when there is so much work to be done? How can we celebrate when there are lives that are incomplete, people are dying and they're looking to fill that void in their hearts. We forget that we were once lost and in need of saving, we think that saving is the end of the story...but really, it doesn't end there.
We are called to share the good news, to reach out to those who are lost. We are called to be light in darkness, to be salt to the Earth and if we're too busy celebrating on Easter instead of reaching out, people go home as empty as they came, still searching for something more. That something more is Christ and we are supposed to be Christ to them and if they don't find Christ in his home - a church, how do you think they're really going to accept him when someone tries to share the good news?
"Come to church with me! I want to introduce you to Jesus. He can take your pain away and make you whole."
"No thanks, I've already been there and there's nothing there for me."
So, depressive? Too depressive? For Easter? What is the greater tragedy? That we have to sit through something that is hard to hear or that someone isn't reached because we didn't push the barriers, we didn't push past the normal to reach out to the lost?
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