The Scarlet Letter

The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne is one of my favorite books.  There is so much that is said within the story of Hester Prynne. She is labeled and forced to wear a scarlet A so everyone in her community knows her sin.  I can relate to Hester.  She made mistakes and got taken in by worldly pleasures.

There are so many things that I see in Hester that are like me;  young, naive, guilt ridden, and tight lipped.  Young, yes, we all have been, right? Naive was the word my dad used for me and told me that being naive as a girl was a good thing. And, guilt ridden, that has been a lifetime of defeat in my own mind.

On Easter Sunday this year I was walking into gathering and felt God tell me "she's the same as you". I instantly knew what he meant. Someone was there who had been silenced too. As I looked at the vastness of the crowd I felt the word "magnitude" and knew I had to be bold. I asked God tell me who.  I saw a lady with her two kids on a blanket and knew it was her. I went over and introduced myself, told her we were kindred souls and asked to hug her.  In that embrace I felt the weight of my words are swords.

I sat in gathering & started to write in my journal ; she's the same as you. You both wear the scarlet letter A, The A is for absolution you are free. The scarlet is my blood shed for you. My blood was shed so you know you are not guilty or condemned you are free. Wear your scarlet letter as proof that you are mine. Tell her. I went back to her and she stood up in tears and we hugged. I took her hand as we prayed collectively The Lords Prayer.

We went to eat burritos after gathering and the mom & her kids came with the hubs & I.  We sat together and began to talk. She started to confide in me about her past and present. I told her about the scarlet letter and she began to cry. I shared about my past and that my marriage is a story of redemption but I felt like I knew her because she was me just younger.  It turns out that she is me. God was accurate.

It's because of this younger mom that I decided to write about the "scarlet letter". I decided to stop being tight lipped like Hester Prynne in the book but to be free as a beloved daughter of the King. May you see the beauty in the moment and know that the Lord calls you  beloved. Once you know Christ you are his.  The world can mock you, beat you, and wound you for years but you are always His. This is how the world took my words for twentysomething years.

A few years ago the hubs and I were walking our dogs one evening. He said something like "I think we need to tell people about when we were first married".  I actually had a panic attack and broke into tears. When he could finally get me to talk all I could say was "do you know what people will think of me ? They'd mock me for staying and I can't take that. You do what you want but leave me out of it".

He brought the topic up again within a few days and it was the same reaction; panic attack and me refusing.  I felt the shame of what our marriage was.  I felt ashamed that I stayed. I felt ashamed for reconciling with him,  I felt ashamed that I had another child with him.  I felt ashamed for being 23 and being so naive that I thought I could change the world or at least my husband.

In my journey with transparency in this blog series it gets dicey. What if I would offend someone.  What if they would think less of me? What if....and the list rolls on.  Instead of being captured by the what ifs any more I'm taking a chance to be totally candid through my words and blog.

Last week I shared about being a word nerd.  That ability to write came back when I was in college. I would journal daily and write out open prayers to God.  I would also write responses in my journal and send praise that God was with me.

That was my "secret" life where I would write to the Lord.  In my public life it was much different.  I went out most nights to "social gatherings" aka parties. It was at a "social gathering" where I met the hubs.  We hung out, hooked up, and dated for a whole week before breaking up.  I had wrote in my journal after I met him. I continued to pray for him in my journal even though we were more off than on again throughout college.We did this rinse and repeat for three years before I thought we got it right. He asked me to marry him and we moved in together to KC.

I wanted to share with him about my faith but he asked the party girl to marry him not the believer.  A couple of months after we moved in. We got into an argument over something I can't even remember.  What I can remember is that we were in our bedroom and I had my back turned. I remember that he shoved me to the bed.  I remember that he began hitting me and all I could think was to hide my face.  As the beating continued I began to sob. And, finally, took a deep breath and kicked him hard enough to get away with just my car keys.  I ran to my car as he ran after me yelling God only know what.

I drove to a friends house. I was shaken and scared.  She let me call my dad. In tears I told him what had happened. He asked if I was done with him. I didn't know what to say and said nothing just cried. My dad told me, "I love you but until you can say you don't want him I can't help you. I'll be here, I'll listen to you, but you have to call it, Sherry".

When I got back to the apartment I was still shaking. I didn't want to go back but I felt like I had prayed for this boy.  There must have been something wrong that I didn't know.  He apologized, talked to my dad over the phone, and promised my dad that it wouldn't happen again.  But it did happen again. Time and time again.  We got married and it still happened. Our daughter was born and it happened within the first week she was born. As I was holding her in my arms he beat me as I cowered to the floor to shield our baby from being hit or kicked. He told me how he hated me and her. He said he would kill her if given a chance. I felt lost.

When our daughter was born I began going back to church, had her baptized, and found confidence an solace in the Lord. The beatings still happened & the verbal abuse was daily.  I started carrying a car key in my pocket at all times in case I had to run with our daughter. But where to run? I ran to the church that we went to. I was a Sunday School teacher and always told people that I came to pray over the kids, my classroom, and my abilities. That was true but it also became a sanctuary from my husband.

We had moved to a little house in Grandview. The verbal and physical abuse was daily. I still journaled to God about all my fears and worthlessness.  I knew I was worthless and nothing.  If I was something then he wouldn't hit me right? If I was thinner or prettier he wouldn't say those horrible things to me. If ...yeah, I've got to stop here and take a breath.

It was at our little house that he found all my journals one day.  I got home from teaching and saw his car in the driveway. I actually prayed daily that he was gone on my drives home. That day he was waiting for me in our bedroom and was agitated. I took our daughter to her crib and closed her bedroom door before I went my own bedroom.

He was angry, agitated, and I still shake when I think of how he looked at me.  He held up a journal from college.  He demanded to know what God had done for me. If I was happy that God sent him to me? And, then, the beating. As He started to hit and kick me he kept repeating "are you happy with God?". Instead, of being silent I said "yes". That angered him more and he told me "I'm going to beat God out of you".  He beat me with his fists & kicked me. He beat me with my journals. He read my prayers for him out loud, mocking my words. Being beaten, mocked by my words, my prayers is one of the worst things that has happened in my life.

My husband took my journals and when I tried to stop him he pushed me and took them to the trash. He told me no more journals, no more praying and no more God. When he was done I couldn't even speak and he took my silence as God was gone but he wasn't he was right there by my side.

Daily he would taunt me about my faith and ask "is God here?". I learned if I said "yes" then I got beat so it was better to remain silent. In my silence I found the Lord who gave this hopeless girl hope.

It took me six months after my journal beating to get a restraining order on my husband. I went to the court house with my daughter.  God made me bold but as I started to tell the gal at the counter what I was there for I broke into tears.  She came out, had me take a seat, and told me she was there to help. She got me calmed down, got the forms and told me to fill them out while she watched over my daughter.

She read through my forms, gave me a hug, and told me that I was going to be safe. She took the forms and they were approved on the spot.  That was God and he was there. He worked on my husbands heart, mind, and spirit for years while we were separated.  God allowed me to grow up & grow in faith and confidence that He was with me.

It was years before I wrote in a journal again. Almost 20 years. I never wanted to be taunted for my prayers or persecuted for my words again. I wanted no proof that I wrote to God. I called words my sword to the world but in reality my words were silenced for 20 years. It was during radiation and chemo that I started writing in journals again. God can not be silenced. When God chooses to use you, your experiences, prayers, and your words it becomes crystal clear.

I have an image in my head as I write this particular blog. When I write about my past I know Jesus was with me during those beatings. He cried with each blow that I took. He felt more pain that I felt and took the brunt of it. He was there. He knew and knows. He wants me to be free once again with my words even when those words bring me to tears. Even though I'm afraid of what the world will think. How the world will judge me, judge the hubs, and our family. I feel the gentleness of the Lord saying, "Sherry, tell them about it. I already know".

May each of us feel empowered to navigate our lives with integrity. That we are equipped with what we face daily from the world. That when we call on Jesus he hears and is aligning for our good. That we know that we are never too late. That we can be ourselves. And the beauty that he created in you is recognized by your creator.

Peace be with you- Sherry

UPDATES;

• We are looking for a used AC until to replace our AC this summer. Since radiation my skin blisters and gets heat rash when I get hot.  I have someone that will do the work but need the unit to make it happen.  Let me know if you can help us. 
• The sonshine will finish his first year of college on May 2.  We are going to Maryville on Sunday to move his frig & other things back home.  Please pray for bubble wrap on our drive and our ability to get the Sandymobile loaded. 
• The darling dot got her epilepsy bracelet and we can track how long she's sleeping, steps she takes, and get a call & text when a seizure is detected.  I got a text while I was in KC yesterday. Emily had a seizure.  Emily had another seizure last night.  That is two in one day which has never happened. We are rallying together to pray favor over Emily for complete healing from seizures and epilepsy. 
• I'm planning on going to Wagner, South Dakota for July through August. Please pray for provision for me.  I will need grocery money & gas money while there to get me to The Boys and Girls Clubs in both Wagner and Marty to do art with kids.  
• I'm working on art classes and camps for the kids in KC for June.  I'm hopeful that the camps will be well attended and that I can earn enough through them for my mission trip to Wagner this summer.

Run Don't Walk

Isaiah 41:10 is where. "Fear not for I am with you. Be not dismayed for I am your God. I will help strengthen you. Help uphold you with my righteous right hand".

Moments such as these. Those are the words that people have been saying to me; friends, my team members at TSMKC, and recently a parent of a kid artist that comes to my studio for art lessons. I've taken time off, slacked a little, and not been writing this year.  Each time I go to start I stop and take a nap or get distracted.

Distractions are easy and plentiful.  Its far easier for me to turn on my tv, check my phone, or nap rather than to write.  When did that happen?  As a kid I wanted to learn to write my name to acquire a signature.  My mom bought me workbooks and tried to help me.  I learned how to cursive write before I was out of kindergarten.

I love words, meanings of words. I'm a word nerd.  I remember as a kid having a spiral notebook that I would write in. Sometimes I would write random words and look them up.  I found joy in writing a word that came to mind that I had no reference to. Shoot, I was in grade school and didn't even know the spelling let alone the meaning.  It was awesome to go look up my "new" word in the dictionary and find it there along with the meaning.

I took it as a game. It was fun. True confession I loved spelling in school.  I really liked when they made us write dictionary definitions from our weekly spelling words.

Then the dreams started. Dreams that felt a million miles away but so relevant and so very real.  I'd wake my mom in the middle of the night often in tears about my dreams.  She would ask me about them, about the colors, people or things in the dream.  She shared that God is always with us even as we sleep. She told me that she had vivid dreams as a kid. Her dad gave her a notebook to write and draw her dreams and to talk through them.  He like her was a vivid dreamer.  Unlike her his vivid dreams didn't stop.

 I would put on little art shows when my grandparents came.  He and my grandma would rave over my art work. My Grandpa Hout asked me about my journals. The journals about what I drew and wrote from my dreams. He shared that God has a way to connect with us when we sleep and that's what dreams are.  He told me when I have those dreams or am writing about them to look for words that feel special.  I told him about my word nerd game.  He shared with me that some of those big words that I didn't know could be found in the Bible and could be a part of what God was telling me about the people, places, and myself.

I was in fourth or fifth grade and still dreaming, writing, and drawing. While I was at school my mom had went through my journal.  She shared that when I got home. She shared how she wrote poetry when she was my age and started to encourage me to do the same.  I wasn't good at poetry.  There were too many rules and you couldn't write just your feelings or something funny. You had to stay within the perimeters of the poetic form.

That's when I stopped writing in my notebook. I was frustrated that I couldn't just write.  My mom expected me to write in poetic form like her.  It was something that I couldn't do.  I look back now and see it for what it was.  She was sharing a part of her faith and life that I didn't know about. But she anticipated and expected me to do the same. When I couldn't or refused she would say "you are so smart you just don't want to because it's something that I do".

I felt judged by my mom about writing, about the words that came to me in my dreams or during the day. She didn't understand that I loved her poetry and to read poetry.  I just didn't write poetry.  I was asked while I was in chemo to write about my experience in poetic form for an event.  I dragged my heels not because I was sick but because I didn't think I knew how.  I wound up buying a book on how to write Haiku.  I wrote three Haiku and had my husband read them.  He said,  "Are you serious? That makes no sense. You are better off telling them no". Yeah, he didn't get me either . Didn't understand my poems, and I didn't submit my Haiku.

Do you ever feel that way? That your words have no merit ? That what you say isn't worthwhile? Everyone talks about their words having power. But what if you feel like your words are powerless and you are too?  That has been my dilemma since I was a kid.

My word for the year is "magnitude. It's hit me with memories of the past that flood me. Memories of words of discouragement, moments where my heart broke, and moments when I felt trapped, alone, and scared.  My dreams have been flashbacks of my life of the heartbreak, battles, and hurt.

 I've been journaling this year feeling God telling me that instead of walking I needed to run with him.  True confession since childhood I hate to sweat. The thought of running, uggh, really, Lord? In my prayers this spring I finally told God that if I'm going to run with him I want a cool sweatband and cute sneakers.

This spring I went to a church retreat hopeful in my cute sneakers & my bandanna wrapped in my hair I was going to run with the Lord. I was going to help with the preschoolers on Saturday morning and was sure that was where the "run" was going to happen.  My sweet blessing was the time with the preschoolers just reinforced who I was created to be ; a teacher, exuberant, clever, and taking value in the smalls.  It reminded me of who I was as a kid and I couldn't wait to get to my sketchbook and start to draw and write down the words.

I had packed extra sets of watercolors, pens, and paper to take to retreat. I felt God saying I needed to bring them because of my purpose & perspective through creativity would be happening.  I thought if that means I bring a few art supplies for others sure God I've got this. I & the hubs sit back in the  lodge on a comfy couch during worship, speakers, and because we are older no one blinks an eye...love that!  I traced my hand in my sketchbook and then drew out lines that were like rays shooting out of it.  I has a few of my preschool pals hangout who helped me to draw small circles in the rays that would later be seeds.  I had some teens come and hang out who I gave paper and my art pens to.  I told them to keep the pens and if they needed more paper to ask.  I kept working and drew bolts from the rays that would later manifest as mountains.  As I worked I would talk to people here and there, eat cutie oranges, and keep drawing. 

I had dinner and started to paint when one of my preschool pals came and wanted to hangout.  He wanted to paint and so I set him up with supplies.  Did I mention that there were leaves in the drawing ...yeah, those came between the seeds and mountains. I was painting the leaves and this child asks me to paint on my picture.  How can I refuse that? He helped to paint in all of the seeds. I told him I needed to leave the hand free for words.  The paint wound up going into the hand. My pal looked at me and I thought who cares. We just added more water to help the paint flow through the hand and it looked complete.  It dried and as I was praising the Lord for little moments of being his light with my art supplies I felt compelled to write out a narrative for my artwork.

As I was journaling they began an evening of praying for our KC and our church family.  I continued to journal. I looked back at what I wrote and underlined certain words. That is what my Grandpa Hout taught me.  I then played my word nerd game writing out definitions.  I then remembered I was supposed to look in Isaiah and prayed over where.  Isaiah 41:10 is where ;"Fear not for I am with you. Be not dismayed for I am your God. I will help strengthen you. Help uphold you with my righteous right hand". Guess what? I had traced my right hand. I had five words one for each finger; chalice, disconnect, refinement, grace, re-cognitive.  I felt God saying "hold high the chalice in victory. Disconnect not from me but unyoke from the burden and weight of the world. I've refined you removing impurities with my effortless grace that you would bear recognition of your civil rights as my beloved sons and daughters.

I felt really good, groovy, and that I was walking with the Lord.  I then remembered I was supposed to run. They asked for anyone that wanted to share or pray to come forward. Instead of stepping forward I asked my hubs to listen to me because I thought it was something that I should share with everyone. I read him my thoughts, shared the art, and told him I was going to go share.  As I got up, he took my hand and said, "sit down no one wants to hear it". It devastated me.  It reminded me of where I've been in my marriage years ago when we were first married ; powerless. I sat down and read the words in my journal again.  I told him I was going to go ask a friend if she thought my words and art were worthy. He agreed and I went to my friend who was talking to another and praying.  I sat near her and felt like I was alone and that I should just sit down and be quiet.

As I waited I remembered what my son had said in our prophetic class.  "Mom, I think you have really good words that would mean something to people but you stop, you lose a chance. Just know that God is going to give you more chances until there are so many that you have to". I saw the gal that had worked with the preschoolers with me and asked if I could run something by her.  I was blessed by Jenny that she took time to listen and then said "share it" and prayed for me to have "courage". She didn't know but in my fight with cancer when people would ask what to pray for I asked to pray for "courage" for me.

And, yet, I sat.  I saw a friend that I've known for a few years and ran the whole thing past him. He said that's good are you going to write about it? He knows about my blog and I told him I thought I should it share it with everybody. He said "do it". Yeah, easier said then done. I felt the need to sit down and shut up. Maybe I should just write a blog about it.  But then I heard Jenny's word "courage" and got up and took the mic.  I explained to everyone if they were kids in a classroom it would be so much easier but to be patient with me because I'm not used to sharing with adults. I shared my words in my journal and my artwork.  They asked if I would pray with them. And, all the worries about not being good enough, worthy, fell off as "courage" took over and I prayed openly, honestly, and with courage over our church family & our abilities to be light, love, and hope in KC. I prayed that we each in our own uniqueness would find ways to bear God's light and set exiles of the world free in Christ.

That is when I learned to "run" with the Lord. That "running" doesn't leave you sweaty but leaves you vulnerable, real, and whole. It encourages my love of words. It makes the word "magnitude" make sense. It has me writing again. I'm going to do a series of posts about learning to be free, live transparent, and about learning to love running with the Lord.  I hope you'll join me in the journey.

Peace be with you- Sherry

Updates;

• I got health insurance in March. After exactly one year without health insurance, chemo meds, and meds for Crohns disease.  I was able to get my Chrons meds refilled for just $8 each.  My primary doctor retired this year and so I have to wait to get in until May with another. Once that is done I can go see my oncologist, get a scan, and mammogram done. 
• This year the hubs shared with me that he has always felt that I was the one that was going to go places and do things. It scared him and it made him discourage me when we were younger thinking it would lead me to leaving him.  Now, he sees it differently and explained when he's discouraging it still comes from the same place of not wanting to be left alone. He apologized for the past and present. As things are changing I'm praying for breakthrough for the hubs that he meets the Lord with excitement and hope that when he doesn't know how or why he trusts God does. I'm praying the word "courage" over both of us and our marriage. 
• Emily got her epilepsy bracelet this week. It will send a text if she has seizure to our cell phones. She was able to walk our dog this week without having either Ted or I go with her. It is a whole level of freedom she hasn't had in years.  I'm praising God for freedom in technology, the mom who shared about the bracelet with me when picking her kiddo up from art class at my studio, and our friends that helped her to afford her bracelet. 
• Dale went on his first geological dig this month.  How awesome is it that I get to see my kiddo who wanted to be a paleontologist at 3 years old begin the journey.  He sent a text "found some awesome stuff but had to clear 20 pounds of rock to get to it".  
• I'm planning summer art classes and art camps for kids & teens this week.  They will be held in May & June.
• I will be spending all of July and part of August in Wagner, South Dakota doing art with Native American kids and families.  It is a leap of faith that I will be blogging about soon.  If you would like to donate; gently used tennis shoes, jeans, and new socks for me to take I would adore it. I want to have enough for each kid that comes to art class to have; a pair of jeans, a pair of tennis shoes, and a new pair of socks.  Please let me know if you have donations or would like to donate financially for gas money & expenses.