"Faith is believing beyond the ability to prove what you cannot see. Faith is letting go of the pain, hanging on to the memories, and accepting what you cannot change. Faith ... it's easier said then done." (This is my definition of faith.)
Thank you to my friend Susan for allowing me to blog part of a letter I had written to her recently in support of the pain she carries in her heart.
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You are very welcome for the song reminder. I know we feel the same pain in many ways, just different circumstances. I have overcome many difficult things in my short life that I used to hope for 're-do's" so I could maybe do something different so they never happened. This past year spending time with my little friend Gracie who died at the age of eight helped me rethink my "re-do" wishes. As painful and hard as life has been had it not been for the "ickies" in my life I would not have walked the path I have. I would never of met your sister Kim (I love her deep and she has helped me more than even she will ever know). I would never of been reunited with my extended family on my 'dads' side. I probably would never have found my lost brother Jordy who ran away from home when I was seven and he was 14. I would never have been able to pray for your son Matt (RIP his trouble soul) and I would never have met you Susan (I pray daily that you find more and more peace inside your heart).
The most difficult thing I have ever had to do was decided my mothers fate. She suffered a series of strokes and it was to the point she was being kept alive with machines. My brother Jordy and I had to decided at what point did we want to remove the support keeping her alive and chance she start breathing on her own, or die trying. We decided to remove her from the machines and she was gone with-in two hours. I often cry at night wondering if we made the right decision. I miss her, I need her, I want her back. I know that is selfish of me, because my brothers and baby sister that died before her deserve time with her as well.
Life sucks, there is no arguing about that. If it was easier, if things went as I planned, I would not be as strong in faith as I am now. I would not have learned to appreciate the things that go well, and learn from the things that turned sour. I would have never seen the beauty in the sad story of a someone I love dying. I would never had the chance to embrace someone's life as it slowly crept away into God's hands. Had things not happened to me the way they did my direction in life would not hold as much meaning as it does for me today. The heartaches, the disappointments, the fear, the fading faith, tears that never dry, nightmares that never end. I would not be who I am today if I had not experienced the sad moments of life just as I have the happy moments.
I hold a lot of anger about the sexual, mental, and physical abuse of my younger days. I hold a lot of sadness about the people I loved and lost. It creeps up on me at the most inopportune moments. I see a therapist weekly to help me sort through the sad times and allow me to feel good about the good times. I no longer feel guilty about enjoying the things I work hard to achieve. I no longer wish it was I who died and left all the pains of life behind.
When I first escaped the abuse back in Sioux City I had no one to talk to. No one to listen to me. No one to tell me they understood my pain. No one to sort out my feelings of guilt with. So I wrote. I wrote every night right before I cried myself to sleep. I filled notebook after notebook full of my feelings of hate and anger and demise. I wrote how I wished myself dead. I wrote how I hated my 'dad'. I wrote about how much I missed my brother Joey. I wrote about how much I hated God for what he took from me, my innocence, my comfort, my family, my hope. I lost faith I never knew I had. I wanted to be dead, because that is how my heart felt. I wrote and wrote and wrote, night after night after night. The more I wrote the more angry I became. Until one night I wrote "this is no life, and death is no where in sight". I wrote that single sentence on the last page of the last notebook that I ever wrote about wishing I was dead.
The next day I woke up, grabbed my skateboard, and wheeled up and down the street, greeting everyone I passed with a smile and a hello. And they smiled back and they told me I was a nice young man. And it changed my outlook. I am not saying I never hurt, or never cry, or never wonder why this all came my way. Had I never written that sentence I may still be writing in the dark, never sharing my story with others, never helping others see that you never really lose your faith in God, you lose your faith in yourself. You never really lose your hope in a better life, you bury it deep so you don't ever experience a pain that deep again.
I can no longer hold myself accountable for what others have done. I am not my 'dad' and I did nothing to him for him to abuse me the way he did. His choice, his sins. I am not my mother and I no longer try to understand her life and how she could allow me to be abused. I am not God, and I have no right to try to figure out why these things happened. I can only have faith and grow it stronger that His plan is the ultimate reward for a life lived in shadows.
I write because it helped me overcame a darkness I could not see the light through. I write because the things I have to say today can be shared with so many others who have suffered a lull in their faith of better days ahead. Life is a journey, not a birthday cake, but it doesn't mean you cant enjoy a piece of cake now and again guilt free with a scoop of ice cream.
If your support system lacks the faith you are looking for, seek it in other ways. Write. See a therapist. Bake a cake. It doesn't matter what you do, as long as you DO SOMETHING. Live. Because breathing air and never enjoying what life has laid out in front of you is a long walk on a path set before you by someone with a plan. Everyone has something to offer. Find a strength you have to share with those with faded faith and disappearing hope. YOU MATTER!
Hugs and love,
Jett
Thank you to my friend Susan for allowing me to blog part of a letter I had written to her recently in support of the pain she carries in her heart.
*****************************************************
You are very welcome for the song reminder. I know we feel the same pain in many ways, just different circumstances. I have overcome many difficult things in my short life that I used to hope for 're-do's" so I could maybe do something different so they never happened. This past year spending time with my little friend Gracie who died at the age of eight helped me rethink my "re-do" wishes. As painful and hard as life has been had it not been for the "ickies" in my life I would not have walked the path I have. I would never of met your sister Kim (I love her deep and she has helped me more than even she will ever know). I would never of been reunited with my extended family on my 'dads' side. I probably would never have found my lost brother Jordy who ran away from home when I was seven and he was 14. I would never have been able to pray for your son Matt (RIP his trouble soul) and I would never have met you Susan (I pray daily that you find more and more peace inside your heart).
The most difficult thing I have ever had to do was decided my mothers fate. She suffered a series of strokes and it was to the point she was being kept alive with machines. My brother Jordy and I had to decided at what point did we want to remove the support keeping her alive and chance she start breathing on her own, or die trying. We decided to remove her from the machines and she was gone with-in two hours. I often cry at night wondering if we made the right decision. I miss her, I need her, I want her back. I know that is selfish of me, because my brothers and baby sister that died before her deserve time with her as well.
Life sucks, there is no arguing about that. If it was easier, if things went as I planned, I would not be as strong in faith as I am now. I would not have learned to appreciate the things that go well, and learn from the things that turned sour. I would have never seen the beauty in the sad story of a someone I love dying. I would never had the chance to embrace someone's life as it slowly crept away into God's hands. Had things not happened to me the way they did my direction in life would not hold as much meaning as it does for me today. The heartaches, the disappointments, the fear, the fading faith, tears that never dry, nightmares that never end. I would not be who I am today if I had not experienced the sad moments of life just as I have the happy moments.
I hold a lot of anger about the sexual, mental, and physical abuse of my younger days. I hold a lot of sadness about the people I loved and lost. It creeps up on me at the most inopportune moments. I see a therapist weekly to help me sort through the sad times and allow me to feel good about the good times. I no longer feel guilty about enjoying the things I work hard to achieve. I no longer wish it was I who died and left all the pains of life behind.
When I first escaped the abuse back in Sioux City I had no one to talk to. No one to listen to me. No one to tell me they understood my pain. No one to sort out my feelings of guilt with. So I wrote. I wrote every night right before I cried myself to sleep. I filled notebook after notebook full of my feelings of hate and anger and demise. I wrote how I wished myself dead. I wrote how I hated my 'dad'. I wrote about how much I missed my brother Joey. I wrote about how much I hated God for what he took from me, my innocence, my comfort, my family, my hope. I lost faith I never knew I had. I wanted to be dead, because that is how my heart felt. I wrote and wrote and wrote, night after night after night. The more I wrote the more angry I became. Until one night I wrote "this is no life, and death is no where in sight". I wrote that single sentence on the last page of the last notebook that I ever wrote about wishing I was dead.
The next day I woke up, grabbed my skateboard, and wheeled up and down the street, greeting everyone I passed with a smile and a hello. And they smiled back and they told me I was a nice young man. And it changed my outlook. I am not saying I never hurt, or never cry, or never wonder why this all came my way. Had I never written that sentence I may still be writing in the dark, never sharing my story with others, never helping others see that you never really lose your faith in God, you lose your faith in yourself. You never really lose your hope in a better life, you bury it deep so you don't ever experience a pain that deep again.
I can no longer hold myself accountable for what others have done. I am not my 'dad' and I did nothing to him for him to abuse me the way he did. His choice, his sins. I am not my mother and I no longer try to understand her life and how she could allow me to be abused. I am not God, and I have no right to try to figure out why these things happened. I can only have faith and grow it stronger that His plan is the ultimate reward for a life lived in shadows.
I write because it helped me overcame a darkness I could not see the light through. I write because the things I have to say today can be shared with so many others who have suffered a lull in their faith of better days ahead. Life is a journey, not a birthday cake, but it doesn't mean you cant enjoy a piece of cake now and again guilt free with a scoop of ice cream.
If your support system lacks the faith you are looking for, seek it in other ways. Write. See a therapist. Bake a cake. It doesn't matter what you do, as long as you DO SOMETHING. Live. Because breathing air and never enjoying what life has laid out in front of you is a long walk on a path set before you by someone with a plan. Everyone has something to offer. Find a strength you have to share with those with faded faith and disappearing hope. YOU MATTER!
Hugs and love,
Jett
