Serially found yet lost

On Day 4, I wrote about the story of a lost girl. In different pulses, in different thoughts. Then on Day 13 I wrote about a young girl who had been wading through life and now is found.

Here now, is day 16, a hopeful merger of the two seemingly very different story.



(Image courtesy of Google image search)

She was rummaging through her old things trying to look for a document she knew she had flung somewhere. At 22, a job was almost mandatory. And here was one staring at her right in the face and all she needed was this certificate. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind she realised that she would have to relax if she were to have any hope of finding it.  Taking a breather, she calmed down, did one of those mantras that helped unnerved her and remembered there was an older chest In one of those corners.

Opening it, she smiled as she saw the familiar letter, picking it out , she saw something else behind it. An old photograph. And bile, green and pure, rose in her!

This woman! This woman that stared at her had broken her. Had hurt her in so many ways imaginable. Had taken away her innocence, her childhood, her faith in people and replaced it with….

“And If you have anything against anyone, forgive him, that your Father in heaven may also forgive your trespasses”
She heard from somewhere deep within.

“Do not tell me that!!!! Don’t! You have no idea what I went through! What it felt like! How much it hurt! How much it still hurts! ” she spoke to no one in particular.

She knew this was the nudging of the Holy Spirit in her. And she was not willing to listen. She had been saved since fourteen years and her relationship with God had grown since. From those days of doubt and fighting Him to days of peace and prosperity and sometimes lack yet knowing that there was still Providence coming. To just burying herself in the Word and marvelling at all that God was. Yet this, this she still struggled with.

She had long since mastered the art of blocking her mind against vile memories. To the point of they only came to her in dreams and always dissociated from her. At times, she would find herself so angry at anyone who made a child go through any form of abuse that it would eat at her soul for days on end. Without her realising why it affected her so much.

And she knew she was okay. She was happy. She was alive. She hated no one. I mean why would she? Her life was amazing. She knew that she had a problem forgiving but one she let it out she was okay. And she knew that she would be sensitive at times and hated anyone who wanted to forcefully control her. And for the same reason had lost many along the way. She knew she gravitated towards people who were hurt. Wanting to nurse them,to empower them. To mould them. And her mother had often told her to learn the difference between love and pity. But about herself, she knew she was fine. Totally okay. She had noticed recently that she would not keep memories for so long if she thought they would later come to harm her. But she figured It was because she was growing up. Had more things to occupy her mind.  All that mattered was that  she was a good natured girl, with lots of friends, lots of positive energy, lots of words of wisdom for those who needed it. An amazing relationship with God, her mum,dad, her siblings. And an amazing boyfriend.

But that photograph had undone everything. Everything she had for so many years blocked resurfaced and it hit her like a bolt.  She saw the slaps, the whips, the canes that broke while she was been beaten for mistakes commited. She saw the belts, some smooth, some not, some studded and remembered the many marks she had on her thighs.

She saw the wall that she had hit so hard after been flung to it because she had lost a pencil. But most of all, she saw this woman! And all the other things paled in comparison.
She remembered of a time that she had been so sick, typhoid as she recalled  and could not move from the seat. She was so frail. So weak and had been left in the care of the woman. A house help. All food she would eat would automatically leave. Post prandial vomiting. And the woman after seeing this, asked her in a very menacing yet calm voice to sit and eat her vomitus until she was done. Standing there with a cane and each spoon the girl ate, she would still vomit but had to re-eat.

She remembered of days where the woman would command her little brother to go to the loo in his little potty. And when he was done, and as he watched , he would ask the young her to take the urine and instead of depositing it in the loo to drink it straight from the potty and finish it all. As punishment for mistakes done during the day. She remembered how torutured the brother looked and for days on end would refuse to use the potty and would feel guilty every time he used it as he looked at her in pity.
She remembered the one day that the brother had had to take a long call and she had come home late from playing and the dread that filled her eyes as just on cue the woman asked her to eat it.

She refused to recall the times the woman would ask her to finger her, as she told her of what the shop keeper did to her and how good it felt.

How do you forgive that Lord? How?

Forgiveness is not about them. But about you. To free you from the pain and the burden that you carry.

“cast your heavy burden to me and I will help you carry. For my burden Is light and easy to carry. ” 

How can i repay all the wrong they have done if you haven’t let go of them and cast them at me , that I may deal with them. And what good does it do to you to have all this pain in your heart yet I am the Healer and preserver of all.

I have forgiven you of much and they deeply wronged you I know. Let them go. Allow me to help you deal with them. Allow me to make your burden lighter. Allow me to heal your broken heart. To give you peace that surpasses all.

She listened and as she listened, she cried. Heavy tears of pain. She did not know how to let go. She didn’t even know she had to till now. But she could not bear the pain she felt now. Her heart felt so constricted. So in pain. She only knew that she had to.

“I don’t know how to Father. Help me”


7 thoughts on “Serially found yet lost

  1. This was so well written that I felt your pain deep into my heart. While I did not experience the depth of depravity that you did, I too, was abused as a child and it took me a long time to ‘let go and let God’. I have always found solace in the poem by Mary Stevenson “Footprints in the Sand’. It has been a great comfort for me over the years. Perhaps it will give you comfort too.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Beautiful and heartfelt. And what beautiful words Jesus told you in the end. Thank you for sharing it with us, I presume it wasn’t easy to write about it. But it does sound you are on a journey towards healing…. God bless you.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. The pain depicted through the writing is real. Excruciating…writhing…ain’t certain what adjective would would perfectly describe how I feel. Inhumane as she may have been, you have captured all that in simplicity. Hence the reason why I think I can feel your pain. It brought tears to my eyes and may The Lord have mercy on her soul. If it were myself, am not sure I’d forgive her. Hope your brother has forgiven her as well but if you’ve not, I believe it’s a matter of time and the burden shall be eased.

    Liked by 1 person

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