Wednesday, March 25, 2015

The Dream that Changed my Forever

The blanket Mom made for my baby

Nine years old and broken...

like Thumbelina, my favorite baby doll. I pulled her string and she barely moved. I held her close to calm her fears, but nothing I did could make her awaken to my love. I swaddled her in the baby blanket my mom had sewn for her, and pulled her close. And I sang...

Rock-a-bye, baby,
On the tree top.
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks
The cradle will fall.
And down will come baby,
Cradle and all. 

I thought about the falling cradle, and pulled her closer to my heart. Broken and raggedy, still I loved her. Gentle, I swept her unkept strawberry blonde hair to the side. 

I'll never let you fall. 

Fear-filled every night...

blankets pulled clear up to my chin. Eyes closed. Frozen. I thought if I didn't move when he touched me, he would leave me to sleep, and sweep strawberry blonde hair gentle off my face. Maybe he would swaddle me gentle and tender. Maybe he would sing over me.

But his touch was of a wholly different kind. And pain joined my fear many times over. 

I wanted to die...

and every night, I thought about how I could just stop breathing. Vague memories of Dad telling me that Grandma had died and gone to Heaven taunted me with the possibility of escape. I pulled Thumbelina closer, and tucked her baby blanket tight under her chin. 

One night...

as I slept sound, I woke, not with a start, not abrupt and fearful, but serene. My body, mind, and spirit wrapped in tranquil warmth. Familiar surroundings eluded me as I was in an altogether different place.

Even now, I'm asking for God's words to flow a near close description of this place. I can only say that my presence there was something other than life here. Certainly other from life I knew as a deeply wounded, frightened child.

Fervent Love, radiant Light, peace-FILLED Presence. No fear, no pain. I belonged. His Presence was pure white, brilliant Light all around Him, through Him, from Him. The details of His face were veiled in Holy resplendence. Yet, even that was right.

I was loved. Truly. Completely. Eternally. 

Home.

When He spoke, His words didn't come audibly to my ears. They came as a whisper to my heart. 

You have to go back. It is not time. 

I responded not with words, but as He had spoken to me. My heart was begging. 

Please let me stay. I don't want to go back. I want to stay here with You.

His encompassing Presence didn't waver, but His Heart came to me again. 

I'm not finished with you yet. You have work to do. 

Again, my heart beseeched Him. 

Please, I want to stay. 

I woke in my bed...

and still the peace of His Presence lingered. I met the One Who loves me Eternal. Though I didn't yet know His Name, I spoke to Him each night until sleep finally came. I didn't hear any whispers to my heart as before, yet I knew He was with me. Somehow. 

Please help me sleep. Please help me not be afraid. Please.

Over and over again, I uttered these words in my mind. And when my grandpa came to hurt me, I somehow (a miracle, I'll never understand) found solace in silent conversations with this One who made His glorious presence known. Somehow, there was a sliver of safety there. I can't explain it. The physical agony, the emotional suffering, the shattered spirit of me, a raggedy, abused little girl had the tiniest of seeds planted into her being by the One Who loved her true. Through six years of torment, this hidden seed was my life preserver. I clung tight when I thought I would break. I felt its grip tight around me when I was sure to perish. 

Sharing the sacred...

here in this place for anyone to see is hard. There are those, I'm sure, who will find my words difficult to believe. I don't know why He chose to make Himself known to me in this manner, and have only voiced this sacred encounter with a select few trusted friends and family members. My intention was to keep this experience sheltered inside, guarded from the reproach of anyone who might tell me I foolishly misinterpreted a childish dream. 


But now, I am compelled to tell. And I'm willing to risk the consequence of naysayers. This is my story, and I'm sharing the sacred with my truest voice. 




7 comments:

Linda Kozar said...

Sharen, thanks so much for your bravery. Sharing your story takes all the power away from the enemy. And bringing it into the light might encourage others to come forward too! Love you!

nettiefudgesworld said...

I agree with Linda. Your story will help someone(s) with their healing. For them to be able to come forward with their own story. Blessings, my sweet friend. Love ya!

Sharen Watson said...

Thank you for encouragement from two precious friends...

Linda and Janetta... You're so right! Please pray with me that others come forward to tell their stories too. I love you girls! God bless you both!

Unknown said...

Oh, Sharen, thank you so much for your courage and bravery to boldly share this. My heart aches so deeply for what you had to endure yet I know that by giving voice to it, you might transform someone else's life in ways you can't imagine.

Love you, friend!
~Stacy Voss

Sharen Watson said...

Thank you, Stacy, for visiting here. I appreciate your words so very much. If I can be a small part of helping someone transform their pain into a story of restoration... Oh what a blessing! If this blog helps someone find courage to share their own story... what an accomplishment! Telling is the first step to healing. My telling started a LONG time ago, but I pray that sharing here will reach others who need to begin their healing journeys. And ALL of this for our Lord.

Annette O’Hare said...

Sharen I never would have guessed this was your story in a million years. I don't have a doubt in my mind that God revealed Himself to you in your desperate situation. He's spoken directly to me through a five year old child. He has a way of meeting us where we are. God bless you in the telling.

Sharen Watson said...

Annette... Thank you for commenting here, and forgive my delay in responding to your important words. As you probably know, I've launched my new site and am working slowly but surely to get it exactly where I want it. Laborious job! Sheesh. I'd like to hear about your experience sometime. If you have time, will you send me an email to share it with me. Only if you'd like... Love you, sweet friend.