Lynse Leanne

THIS IS A RE-POST FROM 2008….

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My mom just text me to remind me about this poem, however I never forgot about it. I memorized it in 6th grade to recite at our Rememberance Day Assembly. She also told me today that my grandmother who was in WWII was so proud of me when i learned it. I cried.

Here is the poem,

In Flanders Fields
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918) Canadian Army

IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

link: In Flanders Field

Today i remember the people in the Candian and United States of America Armed Forces. They gave their lives for their freedom. and it does not go unnoticed.

Today we babysat for a small group. Chad and I and 11 kids. Lets just say that if there was ever a form of birth control that may be it.

As we were watching the kids we had a fun game going with one of the little boys. He was so sweet and innocent. I was holding the ball up and bouncing it on the ground. As i did he was trying to catch it and Chad was standing behind him snatching him up from catching the ball.

This game probably went on for 2 minutes and then we decided that we would let him catch the ball.

The funny thing was as i bounced the ball for him to catch he took 2 steps back and fell into Chad as if he was being snatched and kept from keeping the ball.

a few minutes went on and i looked at Chad and said “that was a spiritual principle if i’ve ever seen one.”

He had become so used to the fact that he was not going to get the ball even though it was right in front of him. He was used to being snatched up right before.

How many times do we do this? We cant get to the ball that God has in front of us because of the different ways the enemy keeps us. But once we break free from the enemy and can just reach out and grab the ball we back away and into the enemies arms.

I know that i am so guilty of this. Time and time again i go back into the grips of the enemy and his lies…

“i cant do that”
“my story disqualifies me”
“you are not good enough”

all of the lies that i believe.

But i just have to reach out and grab it.

The truth is the enemy has been defeated and we can overcome him. We have already overcome him. we just have to choose to reach out and grab it.

put your hands out.

Please excuse this quick break in my story for this post. I will continue with my story tomorrow. Trust me.

Sharing my story has been a tough thing. it has been a tough week. I feel like i had moments when i was on top of the world because God was using me….and others when i was so low i just wanted to cry.

But as i sat and tried to pinpoint what was going on on the inside i realized i was mourning some things. I was mourning the loss of innocence that i had, i was mourning the loss of joy that was stolen from me for a time. But the biggest was mourning the fact that I had no one that i felt like i could trust as a child. That no one was there to protect and defend me.

I have this bad habit of watching “Law and Order : SVU” and i know that i shouldn’t watch it as much as i do, but there is something about it that most times makes me feel good, but the other times i feel really bad. I can have flashbacks or anxiety attacks. But this week was different. This week I felt sad for the younger Lynse. I felt sad because i had no one to tell. I had no one that i felt like i could tell. I was very alone.

But in the show the kids have a protector and defender. But i didnt. No one was there to steal me from the situations. No one was safe for me.

And i was jealous. I was sad.

I know many of you can relate to that. You may not have endured the same things as i did, but you had to endure something…..alone.

And for that i am very sorry. I am sorry that you didnt feel safe to tell anyone. I am sorry that no one was there to fight for you and be on your side.

It hurts. It is a painful place to be. It is a lonely place to be.

I pray that today you have someone you can open up to. I pray that someone in your life is completely safe.

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Ok, back to your day….and if you missed my story you can catch up here.
Part 1 – my first secret
Part 2 – it was who i was
Part 3 – the first cut is the deepest
Part 4 – I just wanted a friend

THIS IS A REPOST WITH A NEW NAME…

Yesterday i spent some time writing my story in hopes to share part of it with you all in the very near future. But as my heart is dreaming big about what i want to do and become i want to make a shift and take some time talking about something that is near to my heart, Self Injury.

Looking at stats it has sort of become an epidemic in the youth of the US. It is not a new thing by any means, but something that can take root in your life and destroy you.

I wanted to share a bit of my road of cutting and self injury. As i talk more about it i would love your thoughts, insights and opinions on the topic.

So please, join me in the dialogue.

Here we go…..

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To most the thought of harming yourself would be so outlandish that you would look at me like i was crazy if i told you that it makes sense to me.

I am choosing to write about this because there is such a need around this generation to bring light and truth to the fact that a lot of this generation is stuck in the rut of Self Injury. It is a painful place to be and takes a lot to get past. It is a dark place to get stuck. And as statistics are showing there are a lot of people stuck there.

So i want to share my story……

I started “cutting” when i was 13. I dont fully remember how i was introduced to it, but within a few days had taken root in my life. The pain that was so deep inside of me was killing me. i was allowing myself to die emotionally. It was a fight that i didnt want to take place but had no idea of how to stop it. It seemed meaningless to fight to keep them alive when i viewed them as the things that were causing me so much pain.

So my only solution to make sure that i was not dying totally was to hurt myself. To feel the pain on the outside assured me that i was still alive. That there was still hope. At least that it how it all started. It started out of my desire for hope. For some feeling to let me know that i was alive. That i could still feel something. That one day maybe i would feel again.

Soon it became an addiction. I had my way of doing it. I had my “ritual.” The when and how. within 2 months it had moved past the need for hope. My body and mind were addicted to the feeling. To the release that it gave me. My rage towards myself and other people had grown so much that i didnt know how to release it. And i thought this was a good way.

As time went on whether i had a bad day or not i had to cut. I had to do it each night before i went to bed. It calmed me enough to rest and go to sleep. (and about addiction, still to this day if i experience intense pain i get tired because my mind was trained to go to sleep after pain.)

I share this because i know that there are people who are in this rut. And honestly, it breaks my heart. because being on the other side of this “journey” for hope i have found that the only hope that there is is in Christ. I know, i sound super spiritual….but it is true.

The only way that i could figure that out was to get to the darkest part of my life. I was in such darkness. I had been cutting for 4 years and no one knew. I had a secret. And it was a dark dark place to be in. full of pain and the desire to get caught in hope that someone could help me. I was tired of the darkness. And the only solution i knew was to come clean. To get someone in my head and share the journey with.

This was key for me. To let someone in and know the pains and the hurts. I knew that if i let this remain in the darkness it would grow bigger and bigger. and the thing that once started in the search for hope was driving me further and further away from it. I was hurting to live.

The person i went to had no idea what to say. She often looked at me dumbfounded. the thought of doing that to herself was so absurd that she couldnt understand. But she listened. She was determined to help me in any ways she could, even though she didnt understand.

You cant wait until you understand to help someone. And this is what i see happening. So many people know people who self injure and are trying to learn why they do it. Each person has their story. And if you ask, i am sure they will share. It is a very dangerous thing to get into. You may not realize the roots that it can create in your life. But i would encourage you to share your story with someone.

But without sounding like a public service announcement, if you self injure or know someone who does please please please let someone in. Let someone into your darkness. It will hurt at first. It will be uncomfortable. It will be embarrassing. But if you live in the darkness alone your life will never change. Let someone in and bring the light into your pain.

Are you hurting to live?

Think about that for a second.

It stings.  It convicts….at least for me.

I have been through hell and back (i think, and in my terms), and there have been many days that i “hate(d)” my story.  Times when i wish the abuse i endured would not have been there, times i wish that i would not have gotten addicted to porn or self injury…but there have been many times i have hated my story.

Part of that was jealousy for other people “perfect lives”, or what i thought was perfect lives.  Jealous of their families, their purity, their life choices.

But as i have met people who have stories (which is everyone) who embrace their stories has made me realize that i cant change mine…no matter how much money i could pay to change my story it is just not possible.

So instead of hating my story and wanting to change it maybe i should thank God that He has given me a story. And when i made that switch in my mind my entire attitude changed.

“Do you hate your story?  Then you hate the God that is writing your story.” – Dan Allender

I would love your thoughts on that original statement. Do you hate your story?