God gave me a story. It’s one of suffering and disappointment, but also one of overcoming, persevering, and healing. I am not what I’ve done or what’s been done to me. No, I am a new creation and a woman on a mission to help other women reclaim their stories.
Friend, what is your story? How can I help you reframe yours? Our stories are gifts to share and lift up others, especially the hardest parts. Those stories help us say to ourselves, “If she did that, so can I!” Let’s be brave and share our stories.
Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story – those he redeemed from the hand of the foe. Psalm 107:2
Below, I am giving you a piece of my story. This is an excerpt from my book I just finished, Love Letters from Poland – An Unexpected Memoir and Freedom Song of a Broken Heart Restored. May you find hope and encouragement in my reflections.
Towering green canopies stretched over me, I followed their smooth gray trunks to the ground where roots seemed to grow for miles below. Green moss covered them as a well-tailored velvet glove. They had taken many years to become these giants. “What are your stories, trees? How have you weathered so many storms and seasons of life?”
It was on these solitary walks through the forest in Słupsk I started to feel the voice of God beckon to my heart, “Come, let your roots spread, let them grow in me. Winds of your past have tried to break you, but you’re not beyond my hope, precious daughter. I am making you anew. I will strengthen and uphold you. You will be like a tree planted by streams of water; whatever you do will prosper, you will bear much fruit in season. Just come,” he offered his hand. “Dig deep into my Word and allow yourself to be enveloped in my presence. I am surrounding you. Come, let us walk together.”
“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.” Jeremiah 17:7-8
Jesus and I had more walks together than I can count in that beautiful forest nestled behind my Polish home. Rain or shine, I entered the outstretched green arms. Some days the forest was a shortcut to Katie’s for dinner, a way to exercise or to recharge from the hectic workday. The trail had a particular freshness of rich, damp earth woven with wood fires from nearby homes.
Many walks were spent listening to Zig Ziglar podcasts packed full of biblical motivation to equip me for the day and renew my mind. God had more for me! I started to expect great things from my Father who was gently leading me along his right paths. You aren’t your past failures; Jesus spoke into my deepest shame.
They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor. Isaiah 61:3b
For most of my life, I felt stuck in a perpetual winter. Much of my childhood left me with things that seemed dead. My soul often ached but found solace alone in the stillness of nature.
Throughout my early life, I had felt disappointed, hurt, rejected, and criticized. I wanted a place to fit in and belong, but I wore a cloak of shame. A covering taunting me, “You can’t tell them how you really feel,” or they’ll say, “You’re gross,” “weird,” or “ugly.” At school, I remember sitting on the tire swing, watching classmates happily run by as if I was invisible.
There were glimpses of goodness, some of my favorite childhood memories were playing with my cousins. When summer came, we floated in the pool for hours laughing and playing. We jumped in the hay from the second story of the barn and chased sheep through the pasture. I begged my parents to let me stay longer to enjoy these rare moments of being a kid. But even my closest cousins didn’t know my feelings or deepest shames.
In my early twenties, after I returned to the Lord, I still battled hard seasons. Anxiety and depression stalked me, ready to pounce on any hope and drag me back down to the pit. Blizzards of shame buried me. I climbed my way out with performance, exercise, good friends, and nuggets of God’s Word. But then another storm blew through and shook my weak footing: fights with Andrés, rejection from a close friend, constant internal battles with my past sin. My soul churned under the weight of pain and restlessness, leaving me exhausted. I couldn’t do enough to satisfy my soul. Living with an unbalanced mind, I couldn’t keep myself from slipping into the pit.
On unexpected occasions, when my internal chaos was still enough to hear the Lord’s voice, a whisper of hope rose up from my soul.
I kept striving to obey God and seek him, but he seemed distant, giving a faint “yes” or an occasional “no”. Never did I seek his love, or believe he even liked me. Let alone ask, “What dreams do you have for me, Lord?” I felt alone and cold, plodding along through snowdrifts trying to please him, staying on a path that didn’t satisfy me. Where else could I go? Was this the “abundant” Christian life?
But before the trauma, before many lies and shame bombarded me, my mom recalls a time when my tiny soul rejoiced. Rolling down a New England country road in the Volkswagen Vanagon, I piped up from the back, “Mommy, look at all the green!” Spring had sprung in a magnificent canopy of oak and maple leaves bursting outside the windows.
God was speaking delight over me since I was little, falling in love with the forest.
When I started to know God and believe I was loved, I could go back in time and see the ways he was present throughout my life. I can now see how he was with me as a girl, wandering through the quiet of a fresh snowfall. I loved exploring alone and marveling at the soft glittering blanket and the stillness of the branches stretching out over me. He was with me even in the deep winter. I know God covered me with his presence and protection while he waited for me to mature before I could address the most traumatic experiences of my childhood. He knew I would return to him, back in the forest.
“Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” Jeremiah 29:12-13
Friend, thank you for staying with me. As I’ve been lifted up, how can I offer you a hand and put you on firm ground? I am for you, and more importantly, God is and he is not done with your story.
Want to learn more about my heart to know your story and serve you? Check it out here.
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