I was recently asked if it was difficult to share such personal, intimate stories from my life when I wrote “Choosing Life.” I’ll try my best to describe a mindset that I probably share with other people who were abused as children.

My head is full of stories about me and about my family. But as I child I learned to disconnect from what was going on around me. I developed the ability to block out everything around me so that it did not penetrate to the feeling or perceiving level. As an adult, this ability to block out everything was an asset when I needed to concentrate. But it became a problem when I had to visit a doctor and explain my “symptoms.” I didn’t have a clue. Whenever I was sick in any way, I never realized it until I couldn’t function anymore. Nothing registered up to that point.

The stories I tell are true. I remember them in vivid detail. I do not relive emotions when I tell a story. It’s just something that happened once upon a time, long ago and far away. What makes telling them difficult for me are the expressions of shock or horror on the faces of people listening to them. I remember at times being very, very angry when I was a little girl. But I was never allowed to express it. These things happened to me. They are not me, and I did not deserve them. They made me the strong, independent woman that I am today. And I like the person I have become.

What makes my stories interesting is that God always has the last word. He has a way of turning ashes into beauty. My life is so full of joy. Our back yard is a garden of cactus in pots that I enjoy watching. I’d like to share a picture with you of an Easter Cactus in full bloom. What a surprise to see such beauty from such a prickly little plant. It didn’t look very promising in its little pot. Then, all of a sudden, it was magnificent. It’s kind of like all of us when God reveals what He  has put in us.

Easter Cactus