This voice is unfamiliar.  So much so that at times I feel caught off guard by it. By her.  By this truth that she is standing on a rock proclaiming.

This newfound ability to know what is setting her free and that it’s not the misguided, wounded words from the past is frightening sometimes.

Yet at the same time it’s a deep inhalation of Grace.

Grace like I wrote about after my #holyshowerwater moment the other night

“Grace ROARS

But is gentle

Grace is impassioned and empowered

Grace is solid and fluid

Grace is a Lion and a Lamb

Grace is Bravery in broken moments

Grace is love”

The days are all hard right now.  There are no breaks in the pain.  No moments away to breathe, to rest or to find solitude.  Even though I am by myself a lot, I am LONELY and my cup is d.r.y.

I feel overwhelmed by the simplest tasks, tired and very irritated when things don’t go the way I hope they will.  In tiredness and frustration and MASS amounts of pain I try to remember another moment in the shower.

I thought about the words I had written on the wall.

“Brokenness is bravery when found in Holy and Sacred places”




Those words are spoken to me and prayed over me so often but they feel thick on my tongue.  Like a new language.  Funny,  as I sit and write I have Katy Perry’s new song “Roar” on auto play in my head.

“Stinging like a bee I’ve earned my stripes”

“I went from zero, to my own hero”

“Dancing through the fire”

That’s the line that gets me (among others)

I think of the story in Daniel (Chapter 3, Shadrach, Meshach and I call him Abed ) Where they were thrown in the fire for not obeying the king (if I am wrong about that, let me know.  I am not up on my OT bible stories)

I digress.

Point being in Daniel 3:27 it says that they came out with no smell of smoke on them.  I remember being told by someone that once I was healed I would no longer smell like smoke.  The smoke of my past I suppose she meant.  I would no longer be a “victim”

But what if I want to smell like smoke?

What if I want to dance in the fire and smell of the dance?  Come out with my hair blackened with soot, my skin reddened by the heat of the flames.  What if I do come out smelling, burnt and scarred?

At least I danced.

Danced to the other side.

War is not pretty, it’s ugly and no one comes out without scars.  I have several on the outside.  There are the scars on my arms from the years that I tried to war alone.  I have a five inch scar up the side on my right thigh and an eight inch scar up the back of my skull from brain surgery seven months ago.  Those scars are part of why I keep fighting.

I smell like smoke right now.  My skin is red and my hair black (literal and figurative)

Some day’s the flames are higher than others.  My life is dirty, as is the ground around the fire.  Some days I dance and some days I am lying flat on my back because I cannot get up the strength to move.  And that’s okay.

Because I am STILL HERE.  Once I felt the flames of healing, even knowing they were painful; I knew I did not want to walk back the other way.

Today; 9/24/3013…..

I want to disengage.

Delete my Facebook, stay off twitter.  Hide behind the screen watching Netflix because today I am not doing okay.


Yet I know in naming those feelings, in the calling out of my own need to hide that I am further along than I was a year ago, even six months ago.

My thinking is still black and white when it comes to certain hurts, wounds and how I feel triggers and want to respond when my thinking still feels very black and white.

Yet I know that in this process of healing and #thrashing it out that it’s okay to feel the feelings I have.  To experience them on a level I was never ALLOWED to before.  Expose them to the light of Jesus and cover them with the balm of His grace.

What is hard is that even as I type these words out, to share with you; I am having a hard time allowing them to soak into my spirit.

So I will keep telling myself over and over again that it’s ok to feel hurt, to feel sad and to experience those feelings.

I know that it won’t always hurt like this.

I have chosen to dance, like a mad lady.  With my arms up, soaking in the spirit even when it hurts, when I do not always believe that He is in it with me.

I will ROAR loudly, because I have lost the willingness to continue stifling myself and allowing my feelings to be invalidated.

I am not wrong.

I will get up.

I will use my words because God gave them to me for a reason and…….

DAMMIT I’m gonna dance in that FIRE.

As Always,