rambles from my heart..

this issue of modesty is very close to my heart. i could talk about this topic for hours. 
i will apologize in advance for my ramblings..
(sorry)


i feel a responsibility not only to myself but for as a follower of Christ.
a wife. 
a  sister in Christ.
to protect the eyes of my brother's in Christ.
to protect the eyes of my best friend's husband.
someone's soon to be husband.
to enjoy someone's body that is not your wives or husbands is wrong.


i just recently got married.
(best choice i have ever made!!)


he has a lot of qualities that stand out and against so many other people.
he loves Jesus.
he challenges me.
he loves me.
(and soooooo much more, that's for another post :)
but the issue of modesty is close to his heart as well.
when we first started dating he made it very clear that he didn't like to see me in a bikini, in public.
he didn't want other men and other brother's in Christ to stumble.
he didn't want other men to enjoy my body, especially if i could someday be HIS wife.
i grew up around lots of boys. 
three brothers and mostly boy cousins. 
i never saw the big deal to wear a bikini if i was around my "family"
although i usually always wore shorts with my bikini...
(i have stretch-marks on my hips..shhh!)
my husband to be (then) saw a HUGE problem in that.
guys are guys. regardless if they are a cousin. 
a neighbor passing by as you guys are swimming or whatever.
he made it very clear he did not like it.


naturally being as independent and stubborn as i am. i fought him. 
thinking he was just being selfish. he was only thinking about himself.
obviously over time-my heart softened. 
i realized i was wrong.
i also realized that he had every right to be selfish because we were dating not just to date or add another boyfriend/girlfriend to your belt.
we were dating with the idea of marriage ahead of us.


here i am now. almost two years later....i am sitting on the couch writing this blog and my new husband is laying right next to me sleeping.
(his fillings came out, he's in a lot of pain)
as i look back my heart aches at my desires to not get a farmers tan from wearing a t-shirt over my bathing suit instead of wanting to protect my brother in Christ's eyes. 


 i'm not angry but im soooooooo thankful for a husband who wants to be selfish and who wants to be the only one who is able to appreciate my body.
i'm thankful the Lord has softened my heart.






 the Lord has blessed me with a man who first and foremost LOVES the Lord. i am soooo thankful to be married to man who seeks the Lord passionately. 


with that said, my heart is still under construction. i feel myself healing.(that's a victory!!) 
but i also find myself dealing with painful part of being a victim of sexual abuse and being newly married. 
prayers are always appreciated.

i have a reason to worship.

something has been laying on my heart the closer the wedding comes.

i have always fought with feeling content not having a real relationship with my mom or a safe relationship with my dad. 

i fight myself thinking what my life would be like now if i grew knowing my dad and having a relationship with my mom.

i wonder if i would be as stubborn.

if i would put such a wall around my heart.

if i could learn to trust people in my life.

what my relationship with my fiance would be like.

if i would be as independent.

oh the list could go on.

"what would my heart look like right now if i grew up having a relationship with my parents and grew up with my brothers and sister?"

i can't help but to think if my birth mom made the decision to stop drinking. to stop using drugs. to stop being a door mat for disgusting men. 

to just be our mom. 

how would that have affected me? 

would i have a feeling of security? security knowing that my mom thought me and my siblings were worth fighting for?

or would that lead me and my siblings down a path of even more unhealthiness? 

not to say i haven't had any "moms" in my life.

i have definitely been blessed to have many women in my life who have loved on me.

invited me into their lives.

into their families.

and as much as i wanted to feel apart of that family my heart knew i didn't belong there.

to look back over my childhood-i have had my share of "dads"

i've had my share of men in my life who tried to step in and be a father figure to me.

 feels like too many men.

too many men who gained my trust and quickly took advantage of their role in my life.

biologically i have no clue who my birth dad is.

i know he is native american.

(hello-tan skin!)

he's tall.

(hello-long legs!)

and he lived with his mom in clovis.

that's it. 

that's all i know about a man who was in-trusted with a responsibly. 

a responsibly that is supposed to be treasured not thrown away.

with that said, i should be clear.

my birth mom was married to my brother's dad "tim"

my birth mom had an affair and became pregnant with me.

tim's name is on my birth certificate and for the longest time he was one of the only men in my life that i trusted. 

(besides my brothers, papa, and one of my uncles)

please know that even though i struggle with feeling content not knowing this man and as angry as i am sometimes with the Lord, i still know God is my VICTORY. and i have a reason to still worship. because he is STILL God.

i question EVERY relationship i have seen.

whether they are strangers off the street or a relationship i see from close people around me.

i question whether every relationship with a father and daughter is distorted.

as much as it kills me and shatters my heart i am constantly on guard. 

watching any relationship where a girl and a man are alone.

questioning the mans motives.

it's tiring.

i wonder if this was where most of my anxiety was coming from when me and my fabulous fiance  were talking about kids for our future.

please know as i bear out my heart right now that i have been aware of this for quite sometime and have been struggling to work on it.

it's been a silent struggle that i am being coached through it.

i havent struggled with this pain as much as i have the last few months. 

the closer the wedding comes.

i am finding myself surrounded by father and daughters.

i find myself crying when i sit to think about all the weddings i've been too.

replaying in my head all the fathers that have walked down their daughters and gave them to the man who would hold his daughters heart for the rest of their lives.

i have yet to decide if i am walking down the aisle by myself or if i'm asking someone to give me to my future husband. 

the meaning of being given away holds such a HUGE place of my heart.

it means the world to me.

but how realistic is that for me??

to have a man that I TRUST?

that's hard.

who would want the responsibility that so many men have thrown away.

how am i suppose to ask someone to pick up the pieces that so many men shattered.

i can count on two hands the number of men in my life who i can say i one hundred percent trust. 

in reality walking down the aisle by myself and giving myself to my future husband isn't what i pictured but a lot of my life is probably not how i pictured it.

the question is who?

the wedding is a month away. i need to make a decision. 

please be praying with me as i continue down this painful journey.  

please be praying that i first and foremost seek the Lord to fill me up.

please be praying that the Lord would shed some wisdom on my heart.

please continue to be praying that i find peace. 

my heart is definitely still under construction and though i have a wounded heart i know it's not broken.

praise be to the Lord and the Lord only.

a breathe of fresh air.

praise the Lord!

it's amazing what time with the Lord will do for the heart.  :)

after my break down on Sunday night i feel refreshed. 

refreshed knowing that i can break the cycle. 

refreshed knowing the Lord is bigger than all of this!

refreshed knowing that my "dirty secret" is out.

(somewhat, i told my brothers)

it's amazing what lies will creep into my heart when i'm not continuously in the word. 

those are the days that i seem to be under attack the most.

i forget how easy it is to take my eyes off of the Lord and to put them on myself.

 to tell myself that i will never find peace.

 my heart is continuously under attack and yet my relationship with the Lord is at it's highest!

praise the Lord!

i need to surround myself in truth.

truth that i am now safe.

truth that i am loved.

truth that i will always be loved.

 i can do all of those things when i focus on the Lord. 

when i put my hope in my Savior. 

please be praying with me as i began the journey of talking through details. 

 be praying that as i walk through this that my focus will continue to be on the Lord.

be praying that i continue to surround and remind myself of the truth thats in my life.

enough is enough.

i am sitting in my bed and i am sobbing.

sobbing because the family i was in-trusted with didn't love me enough to protect me.

to keep me safe. 

to want to keep me safe.

i am sobbing because after reading numerous studies....i found this.............

being a victim of any type of abuse is hereditary. 

meaning......

because i was a victim of child sexual abuse the chances of my children being victims of sexual abuse are ridiculously high.

 i remember just sitting there thinking after reading those studies.

thinking about my family.

and realizing that my grandma was a victim of sexual abuse.

two of my aunts were victims of sexual abuse.

(im sure the list could go on...)

being a victim of sexual abuse may have been passed down to me. 

it may have happened because i was an "easy target"

it may have happened because i was vulnerable.

because i was too stupid.

the reality is we don't know why i was a victim of sexual abuse. 

we don't know if it's just my crappy genes or if it was just the right place at the right time. 

BUT WHAT I DO KNOW IS THAT IT WILL END WITH ME!!

enough is enough. 

i am sick to my stomach because i am completely overwhelmed with the statistics. 

i am completely overwhelmed knowing that on both sides of my family there has been sexual abuse leading up to me. 

i am completely outraged that families are ALLOWING something SO disgusting in their lives. 

in their families.

and instead of saying enough is enough they are sweeping it under the carpet and letting the abuse occur one after another. 

instead of choosing to protect their children they are CHOOSING to look the other way.

i am sick to my stomach.

enough is enough.

i am tired of constantly looking over my shoulder when a man walks into the room.

i am tired of the constant triggers.

i am tired of sleeping with a light on.

and i am sick and tired of making myself question whether i want to have children because im afraid to pass crappy genes onto them.

enough is enough.

as i sit in my bed, still sobbing........ this sentence keeps replaying in my head:

THE CYCLE WILL END WITH ME!! 

(enough is enough!!!!)

as scared as i am that i will pass the victim card to my own children.......

i know the Lord is bigger than that.

as devastated as i am right now..............

i know the Lord is working in my heart.

my heart is under construction. 

please continue to pray that i am able to find peace.

that i am able to put my hope in the Lord. 

AND rest knowing the Lord is where my peace and hope lay.

reality.

last year i had the opportunity to spend a whole week of my summer vacation with my best friend.

and a bunch of junior highers. 

i was asked to tag along that week because her church was short a camp counselor.

knowing, selfishly that i would get some quality time with my best friend and with Lord, i said YES.

i dont think it hit me till a couple days before that i was not only going to get quality time with my best friend and with the Lord BUT also with a bunch of crazy, energetic...junior highers. 

enough said right??

but i figured the quality time out-weighed everything.

i was kinda excited to see what it would be like to share a cabin for a whole week for six junior high girls.

i was also very excited for the time they allowed the camp counselors to have their time with the Lord.

i took advantage of every free second i had to do the two things that i LOVE to do and usually don't get a lot of time to do....

i spent time with the Lord AND with my best friend! 

it was great.

at this season in my life...i knew i needed to talk about my story and learn to accept it but i wasnt ready too. 

my best friend knew my story...well she knew part of my story. for the same reason why i didn't tell anyone else.

i didn't want pity.

i think the second night of chapel our guest speaker (who was AMAZING!) was telling us about his family. who he was. etc.

he told us this amazing story about this beautiful little girl.

he told us her story.

i cried.

he showed us a picture of her before and after.

before him and his wife adopted her and after they adopted her.

again. i cried.

later that night as me and my girls were walking back to our cabin.

all my girls were laughing. 

talking.

planning what they were going to wear when the cabin time was over.

i walked in complete silence.

completely heart-broken for that little girl.

i looked over and saw another group of girls walking back to their cabin.

they from the same church as us and were right next store to our cabin.

i could hear one of the girls crying and all the girls talking about what just happened in chapel.

i went back with my girls. 

tried to connect with them about what happened in chapel and make the most of our cabin time but my girls were not in the mood to have cabin time.

so i told the girls i would be back and i went next store.

not knowing what i would say.

but knowing that i needed to check on the girls.

(their counselor wasn't in the cabin)

i knocked and walked in.

the girls were still upset.

i asked how everyone was doing and they began to open up about how hard it was to listen to that beautiful little girl's story.

i remember in that moment of trying to comfort these girls. that i don't know.

i told the girls this...

"you just have to remember that even though something SO ugly happened to this little girl our Savior is going to make something SO beautiful out of it!"

not knowing where that came from i wasn't sure that would do anything but the girls tears went away and they thanked me for checking on them.

to this day i remember that exact conversation with them and they trusted me when i reassured them that our Savior will not leave that ugly mark on that sweet little girl.

and yet on a bad day i struggle to trust that the Lord will do just that.

He will take that ugly mark off of me and make my story beautiful.

a continuous prayer is that i be reminded to put my hope in God.

to understand that even though something SO ugly happened to me,  the  Lord will make me new and make my story into something so beautiful. 

He will use it for his glory.

i wanted to leave this post with a few statistics.

-a report of child abuse is reported every TEN seconds.

-more than five children EVERY day die from child abuse.

-more than 90% of juvenile sexual abuse victims know their perpetuator in some way.

-child sexual abuse is report more than 80,000 times EVERY YEAR.

-its estimated that two out of every ten girls and one out of every ten boys are sexually abused by the end of their 13th year.

lastly.

Sexual abuse is unwanted sexual activity, with perpetrators using force, making threats or taking advantage of victims not able to give consent. Most victims and perpetrators know each other. Immediate reactions to sexual abuse include shock, fear or disbelief. Long-term symptoms include anxiety, fear or post-traumatic stress disorder. While efforts to treat sex offenders remain unpromising, psychological interventions for survivors — especially group therapy — appears effective.

provided by: American Psychological Association 

every time i read sexual abuse statistics my heart breaks. 

 the truth is hard to understand sometimes. its hard to believe that their are people who live in the same world we do and could do such a thing.

my story.

my story is a little crazy with a splash of blessings on the side and a squirt of disappointment. 

when i was four years old i was taken away from my biological "birth"mom. i am one of the five kids she gave birth to. i am number four. 

number one is my sister.

 i never really had a relationship with her. she is 9 years older than me.

number two is my brother. 

we are close. he has always been protective. extremely. 

number three is another brother.

we are very close. he was my rock. he was my strength somedays. he gave me hope. he also always picked on me.

number five is my "little" brother. 

he is huge. super tall. i am just now starting to build a relationship with me. he also is protective of me.

here it goes.............

the night that cps (child protective services) and the cops came flooding into our two bedroom apartment still seems like it happened just yesterday. 

i was four.

it was late.

number one was gone.

number two was playing with number five.

number three was doing his homework at a table and using a candle for light.

he used the candle for light because we didnt have electricity. 

number four (me) was standing in the dining room area watching.

my birth mom was not home. 

her boyfriend was.

in the midst of hearing number five laugh.

number two make fun of number three we heard a huge bang on the door.

my birth mom's boyfriend jumped over. 

as he was looking through the peep hole the door was knocked in.

all i remember at that moment was running to number two. 

number two holding me. telling me he would keep me safe.

as a flood of police officers tackle my birth mom's boyfriend and handcuffed him. 

there was an army of other police officers with bright flash lights...........

knocking doors down. 

pulling everything out of every cabinet. 

flipping every mattress.

as the dust began to settle i dont remember that much.

by this time number two was still holding me and still reassuring me that he would protect me.

and there was an officer. a big officer. pushing a dinosaur in my face and making weird facial expressions all awhile trying to make me laugh.

if i had a cookie to give to him i probably would have given it to him, at least for trying to make me feel better. 

but the truth was all i wanted was for number two to hold me and for people to stop pitying us.

we were finally told to go outside. 

again, number two is still holding me. i was clinging onto him for dear life.

we walk outside and there stood two of my aunts and a van that we were told to get into.

we were taken to a local foster home. 

we were there for about 6-8months. 

i loved it there. 

it was so much fun.

they had food available for every meal.

i thought i was getting spoiled.

they had a room full of clothes for girls.

the only downside was that they kept boys on one completely different side than the girls.

which is completely understandable. except i had always slept next to or in the same room as my brothers as long as i could remember.

so the nights were EXTREMELY long. 

it was like christmas morning EVERY time i got to see my brothers.

i started getting used to my "new home."

then we were told that we were going to move in with my "Aunt Lue" and "Uncle Moe."

i was excited.

then i realized that me and number three were only going to Aunt Lue's house. 

and number two and number five were going with my "Aunt Sin."

i was disappointed. kinda mad. and really sad.

we moved in with Aunt Lue and the fun began. 

we had our own bed.

i felt so spoiled.

we were able to sleep in the same room.

loved.

we had meals at every mealtime. 

even though i got in trouble each mealtime because i was a picky eater. 

 i still felt loved. i felt so spoiled.

we took baths.

we were clean.

and most of all my Aunt Lue tucked me into bed each night and gave me a huge hug.

again i felt so spoiled.

after living with them for a few years my Uncle Moe got sick. 

he needed a transplant.

so my Aunt Lue and Uncle Moe decided that me and number three needed to move out.

we ended up moving in with our grandparents in coalinga.

these grandparents were my dad's parents.

we lived with them for about 6 months before my grandpa started coming into my bed and sexually abusing me.

i remember the first night it happened. i felt so numb. dead. empty. scared. betrayed.

after he left i went to my brothers room. (number three)

we never said anything to each other that night.

i walked in and stood next to his bed. i was sobbing. 

he rolled over. looked at me. pulled his blankets back and i crawled in bed with him.

still sobbing. he covered me. put his arm around. 

the next morning my grandma (a drunk) came into his room. saw us sleeping and called me a whore. slut. tramp. 

she said only dirty girls sleep in beds with their brothers. 

that was when i realized what i needed to do to survive. 

i became very numb. i learned how to "protect" myself emotionally.

i put a HUGE wall up.

when number three left for the weekend. it was WAY easier for my grandpa. 

 because my brother who would protect me was gone. 

my grandma was so drunk she was passed out.

me and my brother (number three) would take turns spending the weekend with our dad.

after about a month of when my grandpa started coming into my room. 

number two gave up his weekends with our dad.

to save me.

after about three or four years of living with my grandparents.

we moved in with my dad. 

it was the best day ever.

i had my own room.

it was decorated.

i had a huge bed.

most of all number two came to live with us!! 

it was christmas morning.

we lived with our dad for about two years then he was arrested.

number two took the reigns and took care of us until he legally couldnt anymore.

we moved back in with our grandparents.

worst.feeling.ever.

we lived with them for about 5 or 6 months then we were asked to spend Christmas with my Aunt Lue and Uncle Moe. 

after spending a couple days with them. they realized something was wrong.

i was extremely underweight.

my Aunt Lue and Aunt Sin pulled my brother aside. (number 3)

they asked him if we would like to move back in with them.

he said no.

he said he didnt want to because he was in high school and had a lot of friends.

BUT he did say, "take my sister. she isnt doing good. i cant protect her anymore."

being the noisy little sister i was listening outside the bedroom door and began weeping. 

after saying bye to my best friend. my brother.

i moved in with my cousin Kenya and her husband Ramon.

after about 6 months of starting to feel comfortable her husband, Ramon  started coming into my room at night and sexually abusing me.

i love to write. well i used to. i kept a journal. i wrote everything down. every detail of what he would do to me. i would question why i wasnt strong enough to over power him. 

it was my outlet.

till one day Kenya found my journal and asked me about it.

i remember feeling so relieved. 

and before i could say help me and yes your husband is a dirty pervert....

she said, "you have an inappropriate crush on my husband."

literally within hours i was moving back in with my Aunt Lue and Uncle Moe.

i felt lonely.

not having any of my brothers around.

started to feel comfortable.

and about a year after moving in with them my Uncle Moe started sexually abusing me.

he started sexually abusing me my freshman year of high school and didnt stop till i moved out of their house when i was 20. 

once i finally moved out my life began to feel normal. but its when my life starts to feel normal that its when my world begans to fall apart.

through all of this ugliness. disgust. pain. 

i know that this is MY story. there is a purpose for the ugliness. disgust. and pain that i went through. 

and i WILL be made new. not by myself. not by my friends.

not by my fiance. not by books. not by counselors.

but my Savior. 

my prayer for my friends who are reading this blog is that you would not become overwhelmed with guilt. 

guilt that you should have know.

guilt that you should have done something.

guilt that you saw the signs.

guilt that you were a good friend and didnt know. 

but that you would be overwhelmed by the reassurance that my Savior is healing me.

is teaching me.

and that he will make me new. 

i can put my hope in that.

and my prayer is that you can too. 

being engaged.

as of january 28.....i am engaged. praise the lord! there is nothing more exciting (besides the actual marriage part) than being engaged. especially when you are blessed with an amazing fiance.

 he is easily my favorite person. he challenges me. calls me out. loves me. protects me. is patient with me.

being engaged is exciting for multiple reasons. but the most important is that you get to plan two things. 

one the actual wedding day! two the honeymoon.

as nerve wracking as it is to walk down the aisle by myself while concentrating on not tripping or letting my bouquet slip out of my hand because my hands are so sweaty. with all eyes on me. 

im kind of excited. not excited for all eyes on me. or walking down the aisle by myself but excited to marry the one person who shows me what it feels like to feel LOVED.

now the honeymoon is a completely different nervous feeling. 

i am SO excited that we are going to disneyland. and in my head when i think of us going on our honeymoon thats where my excitement goes. 

my head begins to spin. my hands sweat WAY more than usual. my stomach starts to hurt. 

all of which happen when i begin to think about the purpose of the honeymoon. 

i have heard multiple people tell me thats completely normal. 

all people feel that way.

it will be fun.

you will be excited.

its healthy. 

blah. blah. blah.

im not saying that all of above is not true because i know its somewhat true. but to think that my honeymoon experience will not be normal thats the part that is hard for me to wrap my head around.

my heart begins to flood with guilt. knowing that my husband was not the only one to touch me in those intimate ways. 

i want nothing but the best for my future husband.

 knowing that he is stuck with me.

knowing that he will not have the honeymoon that he deserves. kills me.

the guilt of knowing that his future bride is wounded. kills me. 

i have to turn my brain off sometimes because i overwhelm myself with guilt.

guilt that the Lord blessed me with him. 

and blessed him with me.

he was blessed with a wounded person?

thats fair?

really?

obviously i know that every part of my story was created for reason. just like every part of his story was created for a reason. and that in those reasons the Lord has blessed the both of us with each other. 

we just feel those blessings differently. 

my prayer for this week is that among finding peace and working on trusting relationships in my life.

that i would understand why i was blessed with such an amazing person to spend the rest of my life.

i dont understand many things that the Lord does.

i dont understand his timing.

i dont understand how he can watch something so terrible happen to one of his own.

i dont understand.

but what i do understand is that at the end of the day i am still drowning in the GRACE that the Lord shows me.

having a wounded heart. not broken.

i started going through a book that was recommended to me by the counseling department of my church. the book was my first step to accepting that i was a victim of sexual abuse. 

the hard part with the first step is that i never considered myself a victim.

 i hated the word. the classification. the vulnerability. 

 i would have tried for the rest of my life to keep that dirty secret pushed under the carpet.

that is if i wanted or planned on being single for the rest of my life...or never wanted a close relationship with anyone. 

september/october i finally became overwhelmed with everything.

 overwhelmed with triggers. struggling to understand God's timing. and finding myself angry with my Savior for allowing such ugly things to happen to me. 

it was starting to take a toll on me. my relationships with friends. and my "intimate" relationship with my boyfriend. 

finally after many prayers and many coffee dates with much wiser women in my life, the timing seemed right to expose my dirty secret with the one person i trusted more than anyone. my boyfriend. my favorite person in the world. 

i still remember that night. we sat on my couch. i told him how i needed him to react. that i was probably going to cry. and that i needed him to not pity me. to not try to comfort me. to just listen.

he did just that. 

we spent that whole next week processing. praying. talking. praying. processing. praying. with a few angry moments. a few confused moments. a few emotional moments. 

by the end of the week we sat down and talked through what needed to happen next. to help me heal and to move on.

my boyfriend's first reaction was to take me away from all the unhealthiness in my life. start counseling. and help him process and understand my pain.

at the end of the week we sat down with his parents. we talked about ways to keep me safe. what i needed to do. what my boyfriend needed to do. and how they can make sure that would never happen to me again.

there was nothing that i wanted more than to pray for a list that would have all the answers i needed to be healed. to be made new. to understand. and to be able to check them all off as i go. 

unfortunately thats not how it works. 

my heart is constantly under attack. 

at times i feel broken. hopeless. completely shattered. angry.

angry that my Savior would allow something so disgusting in my life. angry that my own family members who knew something was wrong, wouldn't stand up for me. angry that my Savior would intrust my family to protect me. angry that my Savior still shows as much grace to those men as he does to me. angry that i am left to pick all of the pieces. 

angry that my fiance is left with whats left of me. angry that his future bride is wounded. 

each day is a battle.

each day is a constant reminder that even though i feel broken. 

im not. 

i am wounded. 

but that is for now.  

i  pray each day that Lord will help me find peace. i pray that the Lord will help me get through the day.