Monthly Archives: January 2016

Living With Addiction Day 14 ~ Shame Broken Behavior

Blameless Love

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Shame

The Broken Behavior

Day 14 of 40

The piercing chill arising from a lonely Beloved’s heart who longed to be touched and loved on was no match for the brooding blizzard within.  This Beloved’s desperation found her tears leading her adrift until the chill from an approaching arctic blast forced her to seek shelter in an unexpected tavern occupied by deceptive sojourners. 

Midwest storms were known for their frigid temperatures due to the arctic air that rushes down from the backsides of snowstorms, but this arctic blast was no match for the impending freeze-up that would last for generations to come.

One step into the tavern confirmed that not even the biting chill from the wind outside could be compared with the brokenness existing from the patrons seeking shelter from the storm’s wrath.

With the chill brooding in the Beloved’s broken heart, she found her way to the warmth of the bar.  As she began to sit down, she unwrapped her fur scarf and asked the bartender for a shot of whiskey to diffuse the frigid dampness in the room.

This unraveling of the layers between the clothing and the warmth from the whiskey within announced the Beloved’s beauty that drew attention unlike anything she had ever experienced.  What started out as innocent shelter from the arctic blast led to decisions that would effect many hearts, many families, for many generations to come. 

Two hearts united together by whiskey during an arctic blast should have offered a life leading to marriage with the white picket fence and a couple of kids.  Maybe in a perfect world!  But coming from a tavern of deception…

Hundreds of years ago, living with addiction became predominant.  The stronghold of physical abuse and being subjected to it through control and manipulation bled through to subsequent generations.  There was also infidelity acceptance; this man was married with his own children.

Here is a married, abusive, alcoholic man promising love to a beautiful and desperate Beloved with a broken heart.  An affair ensues, but when the Beloved finds out she is pregnant, she also finds out that the man she gave her heart to is married. 

Back in that era, not only was premarital sex forbidden, but an unwed mother from an adulterous affair would receive ridicule and be forsaken.  This new life that promised new beginnings started a whole new arctic chill and avalanche that would take out and devastate many generations to come.

To me, the birth of a child is a blessing, no matter how it’s conceived.  I cannot imagine the pain associated with living a life filled with lies brought on to cover up an affair!  This child grew up living with the shame brought on from being a byproduct of an adulterous affair and that her parents chose to run and hide to a new area to get married to cover up the shame of the pregnancy and adulterous affair.  May I introduce you to Mr. Shame at his finest hour!

The shame in living with the secret that you are a byproduct of an adulterous affair was destructive.  The damages continue to be the predominant force and stronghold over my family!  This sounds so much like my own life.  How about yours?  The cycle continues.

The shame this Beloved carried kept her locked up in a cell of hell.  She became emotionally absent because she feared that the truth of her blessed inception would be found out.  It created layers of deception and rage throughout the family dynamics because, for one, her father was a womanizer, an alcoholic, and an abusive man drowning in his own misery and alcohol.  We know what scorned women do, but carrying the weight of such shame is unfathomable!

If I could see you today, Beautiful, the Beloved who lived your life through the lens of shame, I would hold your hand and share that being a byproduct of an affair has no reflection on the amazing and loving woman you are.  There is no reason to be ashamed.  You are a blessing to your family, though you may not hear the gentle whispers of love and affirmation through the concealment in your cell of hell. 

Your children still arise and call you blessed because of all the love you poured into them with the best of your ability battling depression and shame.  Even though your heart may be severely tattered from all the hell you lived through for so many years underneath the weight of torment, I get it.  I wish I could erase and pull out all that pain to spring new life from your heaviness due to carrying and hiding from this family secret that has no bearing on you.

I want to say thank you for blessing me with your unique and valuable gifts of love and compassion for others, intelligence, style and sophistication that will continue to live on through many generations.  I am proud to carry your DNA.  I love you like so many do.  That barrier that was built because of shame that robbed you of a life filled with peace and fulfillment, it’s coming down in the name of Jesus Christ!

Beautiful Beloved, you are forgiven.  Just ask!  You are so loved and precious!  Your life leaves a legacy for the beginnings of severing this stronghold of living with addiction!  I love you.  This stronghold deliverance belongs to the Lord!  Jesus has the key and He has unlocked the ball and chains that have held us all captive for so many generations.  Rejoice, your life has meaning!  We have come for a time such as this; our legacies leave love, strength and deliverance!  Love covers all!

Until next time…

Living With Addiction Day 13 ~ Shame

Blameless Beach Peace 2

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Depression


Day 13 of 40

So what else contributed to this California beach girl who presumably had it all, you know, looks, brains, and popularity, to end her own life by driving off a cliff after repeated failed attempts?  Was it another he?  Well…  Shame is his name and his game!

Suicide and depression are just the underbellies of this beast called shame, especially when there’s a controlling link and lineage in living with addiction.

What is shame?  Webster’s definition states shame as “a painful emotion caused by consciousness of guilt, shortcoming, or impropriety”; but more importantly, it’s “a condition of humiliating disgrace or disrepute.”  Aaahhhhh… that not being trusted because of humiliation or respected by others that disrepute claims.  Isn’t that the “What-would-people-say-if-they-found-out syndrome?” 

Kind of like the aftermath:  Run, hide, cover it up so no one will find out.  Throw those skeletal remains into the closet and slam it shut, making sure to lock it with bolt and key.  Afterwards, run down to the river and throw the key into the deepest part of the raging current and never mention it again!  Cover-up is essential, no matter the cost!  The shadows of darkness…

What kind of life is that?  Shame had reared its ugly head for far too long in my life and my family’s lineage.  That Persona of Perfection!  Reiteration of why my addictive behaviors and chronic symptomatology of depression and suicidal tendencies were overlooked combined with the humiliation from driving off the cliff being swept underneath the rug, so to speak, never to be spoken of again unless controlling reminders of the darkened shadow emerged.

I get it!  I mean, I own up to my own choices and behaviors and I have taken complete ownership of what transpired.  That’s why I’ve never stopped working to get to the core of what has held my family captive of such darkness since the Lord healed me of my depression.  I am completely aware of this problem and I want these dysfunctional strongholds severed.

In raising my own sons who did things at times that made me cringe and brought humiliation; the cycle of shame continued by running and hiding for shelter to get rid of the evidence, you know, those skeletal remains, except for tackling the truth and reason for the problem. 

Pride, denial, S-H-A-M-E!  That was my comfort zone, familiar go-to, spend exhausting chunks of time covering it up instead of finding a solution for severance because that’s what I knew and my choices and decisions reflected that.

The amount of time we waste on covering up our mistakes, our true lives, our decisions and choices, rob us of the life that God intended for us to live.  I think about all the shame I carried throughout my life and will always be working on my own junk so I can be the best Beloved that God designed me to be. 

That shame did not stop ruling me once I became healed of my depression.  In fact, it grew!  That shame just announced more profoundly the worth and value I placed on the wrong sources of identity; marriage, beauty, family, career, prestige, social status, you name it!

This Shame Game led me to stay in relationships and environments that were unhealthy, yet familiar, with addiction running rampant through control and abuse day in and day out.

Remember how I mentioned before how addictive behaviors are a magnet for destruction?  That chaos that spins the web of destruction in abusive relationships is by far the hardest battle to survive and break free from.  My body cringes and shutters when I’m reminded of what I allowed in my life; chaos, addiction, abuse, infidelity, betrayal; it goes on!

Shame is like an article of clothing we put on everyday so we’re not naked and exposed!  Unless we realize how natural and controlling it is over our lives, we’ll never truly understand what the cycle of living with addiction involves.

Tomorrow I will share a Story of Shame that has not only effected many generations of Beloveds negatively through shame, but it robbed the most amazing and beautiful woman (whom I’m honored and proud to be a genetic part of ) of the life God created and designed her to have. 

She lived underneath the Veil of Shame and curse of what addiction robs without embracing her beauty, charm, intelligence and persona of style and sophistication.  She received her life as a curse to carry in shame and secret instead of embracing the beautiful woman she truly was!  I was saddened to find out how a life was lived behind closed doors!

Until next time…


Living With Addiction Day 11 ~ Depression and Belonging

Blameless Window of Blessings

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Depression

Damage more than the Afflicted

Day 11 of 40

News Alert:  That mask I lived behind for many years showed the deep darkness to what controlled my very existence.  Depression is a lonely torment.  The enemy plants these tiny seeds of doubt into our minds with words like “You don’t belong, you’ll never be good enough or pretty enough.”  This scheme of deceit creeps into our minds and hearts while this full-blown warfare develops solely to steal, kill and destroy.

Somehow, some way, I saw the hand of God extending down from heaven as I was driving off that cliff and grabbed ahold of it as my car smashed and bounced off the wall of rocks.  Jesus had been patiently waiting for me to grab ahold of His help so I would understand why He came; to set us ALL free, those who would believe, so that we may have life and have it to the fullest (John 10:10).  It was then that this weapon of depression and force of destruction that was being formed against me lost its power during my final attempt at suicide.

While I was unconscious due to my skull fracture, I witnessed that bright light that some near-death experiences receive as I witnessed my life flashing before my very eyes.  I was touched clearly by the hand of God; how else could I survive flying through the air 350 feet after going through steel beams and bars and smashing into the cliff’s rocks, not to mention living through the force of the impact that compressed and wrapped my remains around the twisted metal of what was once my Volkswagen Bug.

So what happened to good ‘ole Scott, that dreamy boy, that some of you have asked?  You know, I don’t know.  I will never forget the “words” from his get-well card saying, “If you ever want to drop in anywhere, drop in at my house.”  He said I looked beautiful at the concert and disappeared right afterwards.  Due to our amazing seats, he was unable to get up front with us, but that he was behind me the whole time watching us a dozen rows back.

My parents and I moved to a completely new area shortly after my release from both hospitalizations and I never saw him again.  The enemy is good about robbing us of blessings and gifts that were ours to begin with to open, but we let doubt, insecurities, and fears, you name it, rob us of our value and our gifts intended just for that day.

Since Isaiah 54:17 reassures us that no weapon formed against us shall prosper, then it is my duty and responsibility to believe and walk out my faith trusting God at His Word.  This will require moving forward in great expectation and obedience so I may receive the deliverance from this weapon called depression however He chooses to orchestrate it.

God is faithful; He brought my deliverance and healing, but it was not without great cost and pain; the death of Jesus Christ.  I’d call it nothing short of a miracle.  Being healed by Jesus offers us a lifelong journey of hope and joy while giving us glimpses into what heaven will really be like. 

When we encounter this Great Love affair on a daily basis breathing, living and applying His Word to our lives, we become redeemed and transformed and our old strongholds and insecurities that genetically shackled us are removed and we become restored and renewed to being these Beautiful Beloveds God designed and created us to be.

It also helps us love others, even those that have brought us harm.  I want to live and love like 1 Corinthians 13 tells us; through kindness, humility, patience, and by being one who does not easily anger and holds no record of wrongdoing while seeing the best in others through the lens of the forgiveness that was bestowed upon me during the outpouring of love and redemption.

Having a relationship with the Lord changed my perception on who I was!  I finally belonged, to the King of kings and Lord of lords, mind you, and experienced the Love that we all yearn for; the Love I was even going to die for, but Jesus took my place instead and rescued me from myself.  This is called our Father’s Love!  He’s a good, good Father.

Until next time…


Living With Addiction Day 10 ~ Depression

Blameless Depression I'm Fine

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Depression

Damage more than the Afflicted

Day 10 of 40

Today started like any other summer day before my senior year in high school; I took a shower, smoked a joint and cigarette and headed down to the beach to surf and sunbathe.  Today was special, though; there was a new boy in town named Scott and tonight was Pablo Cruz’s concert at the Del Mar Fairgrounds.  Scott had the hots for me and said he would meet me down at the concert after work.

I scurried about in order to catch a ride on the morning surf and soak up as many sun rays possible needed to obtain that “been-at-the-beach-all-day look” with the peeling red nose and face to contrast and compliment my long, blonde hair!  That’s what looked hot and defined us surfer chicks!

Today held the promise of hope and love.  After my longstanding feelings of rejection and abandonment with my family, the constant jeers of being laughed at and not fitting in, coupled with bouts of depression unattended to for a couple of years and the breakup of a long-term boyfriend; there were glimpses of sunshine peeking through the dark clouds from a dreamy boy who was way out of my league. 

Scott had curly brown hair, green eyes, around 21, and even had surfboard racks on top of his BMW.  He said I was hot!  He made my heart palpitate.  My heart was beating again and I felt alive.  I couldn’t wait to receive more of his CPR.

After the beach, I showered with intention and detail to look beautiful in my size 3 Jordache jeans that were long enough to compliment my 5’11” frame and wear cowboy boots.  I looked hot, just like a supermodel!  I jumped into my V.W. Bug feeling beautiful and picked up a couple of girlfriends and headed down to the fairgrounds.  We drank some beer and smoked a few joints before we entered the concert. 

Upon arrival at the concert, we were fortunate enough to get escorted and seated in Row 3 right smack at center stage.  Every band wants a group of screaming teenage girls upfront.  The whole time we were talking and laughing, my mind became fixated on the whereabouts of Scott and it interfered with my ability to have fun engaging with my girlfriends.  The concert was getting jammed packed full of concertgoers and still no Scott.

The feelings of not being pretty enough and good enough was the perfect environment for the brooding of the storm.  Each emotional dagger of rejection were all consuming, turning the gusts of shame and walls of torment into deafening sounds diffusing the emergency warning system of the impending tornado.  Being tossed to and fro in the quiet eye of the tornado left no time to hear or acknowledge the warning sounds that this storm was about to implode even though it was louder than thousands of screaming cheers as the concert began. 

I started looking at everyone in the concert smiling, singing and dancing, the band focusing directly on us girls upfront, and I felt a sense of loss and gloom.  It wasn’t the spin of the tornado that was making me sick, it was because I felt alone in this crowd and no one could hear my screams for help and panic.  I didn’t belong and I didn’t fit in and I was scared to death.  My mind kept focusing on trying to find Scott in the chaos because my heart needed help. 

Once the concert was over, we headed over to the restroom.  I took one look at myself in the mirror and became horrified.  Between the sweat and oil from the heat of the lights and stage, the profusion of sweat from being one sardine amongst a compressed can, I looked horrible.  I no longer resembled the perfection of the model I put on beforehand.

The beads of sweat bonded my hair like glue instead of free-flowing locks that could be flicked back and forth; my black mascara resembled more of a tarantula instead of highlighting my green eyes; my peeling red and flaky white nose resembled my white eyebrows stuck to my burned forehead.  No wonder Scott stood me up.  I felt ugly and not worthy of love.  I had to get out of there.  I couldn’t let anyone see me like this and I needed to hide.

I told my friends that I wasn’t feeling good, so we needed to go home.  Everyone was laughing.  They wanted to stay and continue to have fun.  They didn’t look gross like me, so they stayed.  I walked to my car alone.  I felt ashamed because everyone was laughing in large groups and I was alone running to hide.  I felt unworthy because of my appearance.  Why do we place so much significance on our looks?

I got into my Volkswagen and headed home.  I cried the whole way home, but no one was there when I arrived.  All the thoughts, emotional daggers and flaming arrows that were penetrating my heart and controlling my mind became desperate. 

I drove to my favorite spot, Swami’s Beach, and circled the parking lot a couple of times after finding no one to love on me and snapped.  Before I knew it, I was driving through the protective barrier and wall built with steel beams and bars free-flying through the air bouncing off the rocks landing onto the ocean floor.  All I remember is seeing a bright light with my life flashing before me.

I wanted out of my cell of hell.  People with depression who don’t receive help can get this low.  There’s nothing to be ashamed about.  I was screaming “help me,” but I could not find a solution to ease the pain except for this final attempted suicide.  Thank you, Jesus!

This is Swami’s Beach.  Beautiful, isn’t it?  Hard to really gauge the cliff’s height, but I believe it’s a little over 350 feet.  I wrote this from what I can remember as to what set me over the edge, so to speak, 37 years ago.  I want to share that I have been completely healed by God’s Divine grace and mercy of depression many years ago.  Today I’m living in freedom and flying free of yesterday’s guilt, today’s fears, and tomorrow’s grave.  All because God loves me just the way I am!! 

There is hope for everyone suffering with depression; please just don’t let it get as far as I did!  This was my drug of choice, depression, living with addiction and the generational strongholds.

Until next time…

Living With Addiction Day 9 ~ Depression

Blameless Depression 9

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Depression

Damage more than the Afflicted

Day 9 of 40

You’re a brave soul to continue on here with me.  Not every person that is depressed and suicidal feels and goes through what I went through or suffers these symptoms.  This is how my generational stronghold of depression started manifesting itself with more than just the subtle cues announcing I needed help!

My first attempt to take my life was to find out what was at my disposal in my house.  Easy way out, I thought, was to take as many pills laying around the house as possible.  It’s important I deviate here for a moment…

Parents, please don’t deny this:  With peer pressure the way it is today, us parents have a tendency to think, “Oh, my child will never take my pain meds.”  You’re gravely wrong.  Even if they don’t ingest them personally, they may take a couple here and there and sell them or their friends will know you have them and rob you blindly.  Yes, this happened to me as a parent.  $20 today gets you a couple Vicodin or one Oxycontin.

Continuing…  I started taking all the medications that were in my parent’s cupboard.  I think back at how desperate I was, I even swallowed enema suppositories.  I had no idea at the time what they were.  Pretty gross, huh?  I might nervously laugh at that now due to discomfort in being transparent, but that’s how low and rock bottom I had hit.

My parents were loaded with medications.  No wonder I kept throwing up every day for weeks; it was the meds.  All this did was add more ammo to the fuel lines of depression because I really felt like a failure; I was unsuccessful at taking my own life.  Epic failure!

I then started slashing my wrists.  At first it was just a get-back-at-you vice towards a boy so I could write a love note goodbye in my blood.  Pretty morbid, huh? 

Teenagers today are often cutting their skin to release some of the tension; a little different than slashing their wrists.  They will have fine-line scratches, almost like a two- to three-inch-long cat scratch.  They diffuse their anxiety and mental loneliness through a quick cut; their drug of choice. 

My slashing only made matters worse with the anger coming from my family which brought on more isolation time and removal from others because of the punishment:  I was grounded and left alone to suffer the consequences in my room. 

Please remember to never leave a depressant and suicidal individual alone in their cell of hell because all it does is give them time to contemplate and conjure up their next move.

After many days of forethought and preparation, occupying time and space, I decided to slash my wrists this time by going straight across the wrist in order to sever any nerves that were in the wrist area so I could bleed out.  I obviously had found books during schooltime showing how to properly cut and bleed out because the internet did not exist back then.  My initial attempts were vertically imposed; this time I would cut horizontally.

I inflicted the greatest of pain imaginable to myself here because I somehow or another felt using dull razors while digging deep to lacerate both wrists over and over again would bring instant death.  The agonizing scream was torturous itself.  I still cringe thinking about this 40 years later. 

This time the paramedics came.  I was taken to the hospital and stitched up.  My slashing my wrists was an obvious “I need help,” but when there’s generational strongholds here, we become numb and blinded to the loud pleas for help because it gets dismissed.

This might be morbid, even horrifying, to read, but this pales in comparison to what some people feel and experience.  Depression is real and many have no idea they’re afflicted or how to break free.  It starts subtle and has become an epidemic in today’s society because of the advances in technology that offer the ease to cover up and isolate.

As I was trying to console a girlfriend whose daughter tried to end her life by ingesting bleach, I was sharing with her that the parents cannot carry the shame and blame for what their children do.  Yes, it is the parent’s responsibility to seek out help if there are signs or symptoms, but when we let shame and fear and the veil of generational strongholds keep us from intervening and seeking help by sweeping it underneath the rug, God help us!  As far as my girlfriend goes, most of us were oblivious to her daughter’s despair and depression.  

We all get depressed; that’s a natural part of life, to a certain extent.  Sadly, some stay in this rut and isolate and can’t shake it and need help.  There’s nothing to be ashamed about.  Don’t let darkness prevail here. 

Good time to close.  I’m preaching and not sharing.  Tomorrow’s might be offensive to some as I try to be as raw and candid about everything I went through and felt the day I drove myself off the cliff.

Until next time…

Living With Addiction Day 8 ~ Depression

Living With Addiction

Strongholds of Depression

Damage more than the Afflicted

Day 8 of 40

Depression is cruel.  It is not discriminant in nature and/or symptomatology.  My story is simple really; I became so low and full of despair in my desperate attempts to belong, anywhere, I couldn’t understand or figure out why this sudden gloom of hopelessness was developing that was attacking and overwhelming my heart and soul.  I tried to talk to my family about it, but they were detached and busy about their ways and girls in high school just did not talk about depression.  Girls talked about boys, surfing and where the next party was while sizing each other up.

Because the pain was becoming intense and the heaviness of the cold and thick residue of dampness had chilled my body, I tried visualizing about things that would wrap me with warmth and happiness:  Boys!  But when reality set back in and the daydreams were interrupted because of life, school and work, I felt more alone and isolated.  Even though there was a crowd of people encircling my presence, I felt as if I was inside of a bubble and no one saw me or even cared about my existence.  I was just floating by hoping and praying someone would notice me.

This loneliness and despair led me to seek out such vices as drugs and alcohol.  When those temporal fixes wouldn’t suffice; you’re only happy when you’re high on mind-altering substances because you’re denying the truth that you must work through and face when sober, I started developing differing personality traits and vices to diffuse some of the air in my bubble and coddle my need for attention.  It’s called Negative Attention and Hello Insecurity!

I have been asked what my ulterior motives are for sharing such an extremely painful, personal and dark journey of my past.  My motives are pure and simple:  Why not!  There’s no shame here talking about it; it’s just another amazing victory and piece of the glued shattered glass in the vase that illuminates God’s grace and mercy through each and every crack displaying His Divine nature and love over my life.  That’s called beauty made from the ashes.  When we’re truly healed and set free, we want to share and help others leap over the hurdles and finish the race victoriously!

I didn’t have the help to sever this stronghold of depression that was stemming from the environment caused by living with addiction that has been a part of my family for centuries.  Instead it was swept underneath the rug because of shame and not having the strength or time to deal with it.  I may have claimed and received complete healing, but not before it stained and tainted more of my beautiful family.  These strongholds are going to take several generations for it to be removed completely or Divine intervention; but awareness is the key to freedom!

Working on the high school staff for a year at church opened my eyes to the purpose of my pain; helping others beat the affliction of depression and anxiety and insecurities that are so prevalent in our students in high school today.  No wonder heroin is the drug of choice now!  If I can help one parent, one person, beat this monster of depression by the awareness I am bringing to it, then it makes sense in how God has turned my ashes into beauty!

On one of my report cards from 40 years ago, the teacher responded, “Great academics, but student is quite boisterous.”  Since I was receiving new attention from this conduct, I developed this mindset that negative attention was love and acceptance.  It helped quash down and mask over the roaring pain that was expanding in my tattered heart.  This may have helped develop the comedic side to my personality, but that just meshed over the real pain that was brewing inside.  I passed that trait onto one of my precious sons.

When the boisterous side ran its course, I gravitated towards boys and love; my first love.  When you’re a young girl in high school, you may think you’re mature and know it all, but truth be known, there are so many life experiences you could never conjure up in your adolescent mind, much less know how to walk through it victoriously.  That’s why life experiences and pain are part of life; they teach us how to better handle people and situations later on and we grow through knowledge.

My family did not engage in much communication because of all the shame, addictions, strongholds and busyness of life.  I did not know how to handle all the emotions of depression that I was feeling or knew of the dangers in being led down the wrong path.  All I knew was I was in love, I was ready to play house, my life was going to be perfect and full of love, and no one was going to take that “gift” away from me.  It was mine for the taking.  Needless to say, that gift was unwrapped and I gave myself over to a boy who promised me unconditional love, but gave me only a heartache and ammunition that fed the fuel lines of depression that were ready to explode!

This multiplied the pain I had stuffed down into the deep recesses of my heart and soul.  I had just been rejected and abandoned again.  That love, that sense of belonging, that I was starving for was just a tease to lure me even lower into the pit of hell.  With feeling like no one cared and I didn’t matter to the world, I started taking extremes to fill that void; that deep sense of loss and hole in my heart that only God could fulfill.

Many have also asked what I did during my life with addiction and the strongholds of depression that developed with it, so be prepared to hear the raw, the dark and transparent part of my story.  This is where you get the opportunity to wait a week or two to come back and visit the blog if you can’t handle hot messes because it’s going to get messy. 

Enjoy Mary Mary’s song called Shackles.  Be prepared to boogie.  This is the freedom we receive when we believe!  We can praise God during our difficult circumstances because He will bring us safely to the other side.  

Until next time…

Living With Addiction Day 7 ~ Tammy Tangent Tuesdays

Blameless Words Matter

Living With Addiction

Tammy Tangent Tuesdays

Day 7 of 40

Words Matter

Hello Beautiful!  I pray you’re having a blessed New Year embracing some down time dedicated to renewing your faith and are being refreshed with all the blessings of favor and fulfillment found in drawing near to God.  It’s that time again; it’s Tammy Tangent Tuesdays!

Words are powerful and they become our reality!  Whether we realize it or not, what we speak with our mouths, our words, leads us either into victory or down a path of destruction.  I don’t know about you, but I have found that not only do our words express the condition of our hearts, but living in that Negative Nancy neighborhood (our mindsets) has guided me to places that were dark and full of torment. 

The Book of James alerts us to the fact that with our tongue, we can curse our lives or bring blessings (James 3:9-12).  I believe that what we speak not only reflects our hearts, but it awakens and guides our feet by setting into motion where our feet will follow.

Have we become beloveds who constantly complain and speak negatively about our lives and other beloveds?  If so, we’re not only gossiping about others and spending way too much time in their problems (hello, don’t we have enough of our own?), but we’re allowing ourselves to lose peace and become like those we are talking about.  Misery loves company! 

How about speaking out loud, “I forgive you,” and watch the blessings that will flow from that.  If anything, it will lead you towards peace and not the path of bitterness.

What happens when we profess we don’t look good or we’re never going to be successful or that we’re too old for love, those words spoken sets into motion where our feet will follow:  Defeat!  A bad day will surely arrive because we are led by what we profess!

Words can be traps.  For instance, when I used to receive compliments, I would immediately interject, “Oh, I look like crap, this is old,” etc.  Right away that shuts down the flow of blessings and oftentimes offends the person giving the compliment.  That person may pull away or shut down because who wants to be around Negative Nancy.  Not me!  Saying “thank you” acknowledges the compliment and encourages blessings through engagement.

Words are tiny seeds that will grow into blossoms radiating beauty and blessings or weeds that will choke the life out of us and foster bitter roots.  We are being led by our words, so let’s plant seeds of ample fruit through our words and usage of self-control so we can receive the bountiful harvest and season that God intends to shower us with (Galatians 6:7-9).

Don’t call in defeat by sowing seeds of bitter roots.  Bitterness grows like a weed.  Yet, positive and fruitful speech reaps beautiful blossoms as they open up reflecting the beauty and confidence within. 

If we’re going to speak negative, we’re never going to end up having a positive and prosperous life.  I want the Favor and Abundance of God.  You know, we’re all imperfect beloveds living in an imperfect world, but we can resist the negativity in our lives by embracing change and speak with authority the power given to us by being positive beloveds who have gracious hearts drawing in God’s favor.

Weekly Challenge:  Let’s be the Beautiful Beloveds that God says we are, wearing our crowns remembering where our inheritance comes from, the kingdom of God!  Let’s start being conscience of what flows from our mouths this week and start sowing seeds that will bear good fruit.  

Let’s speak words of affirmation and expectation such as, “I am beautiful just the way I am, There’s nobody like me; I will get my Master’s; my family will walk in the ways of the Lord; I will have a baby; I deserve to be loved, I will get married; I did a great job; I cook divine; I will get that new job.”  These are empowering words and will be a magnet for blessings to pull in when we profess them with our mouths.

Until next time, never forget…

Thank You For Being Beautiful You!