Cave Dweller to Warrior

I have spent most of my life remaining silent, hiding, living in a sheltered cave. I wasn’t doing so out of any fear, though the threat of being hit did loom. I was simply, what was often referred to as, an ‘introvert’. I observed; I took note. If I was confronted, however, with wrong doing… I never backed down. That earned for me a reputation as being ‘feisty’.

After my son’s demise, that ‘feisty fight’ was burned out of me. Nothing came close to comparing with his death which motivated me, or spurred on the energy necessary, to take a stand for much of anything any more. So, back to my cave I withdrew. I stayed there for many years. Nothing was worth the hassle; nothing was worth the ‘drama’. The worst had occurred; how could anything else truly matter? But then I entered the world of ‘social media’, and what a world I have discovered it to be. For whatever reason, loneliness I suppose, I dived in with both feet instead of my head. I was so grateful to find others who knew how I felt, who grasped the immense pain in which I abode.

But it wasn’t long before the attacks ensued. They first began because of my Christian beliefs and because from time to time I would share Scriptures with others. I had spent years alone with my Lord, literally in the wilderness, so His Word brought me much comfort. I wanted to share such comfort with other broken souls. I also had the background of being a Pastor’s wife and running numerous women’s Bible studies. Having had lived a very sheltered life, I was clueless about many things. Sadly, I really didn’t know how mean and cruel some people were capable of being. I was completely crushed by the initial attacks. I could not for the life of me understand how some folks could be so cruel and so cold, especially with broken hearts. Naive? Perhaps…or just plain innocent of such things on many levels. Oh, I knew they existed. I had read about such cruel folk in the Bible. But to actually meet them, even if only on line, was truly a ‘rude awakening’.

I have shed many tears as a result of this additional grief shoveled upon me on some sites. Some very kind Grievers who saw what was occurring, came alongside of me and stood with me against any foe. They tried to ‘wake me up’ to this new harsh reality I was encountering. I guess I’m simply a slow learner. Actually, though, there is something inside of me that simply does not want to accept that folks can be so mean-spirited. Gratefully, one Momma shared with me something I ended up incorporating and even writing about in my articles and Book. She told me simply to: “Pull the weeds to make room for the beautiful flowers”.  I contemplated this thought on many an occasion. I have had to find balance in it; I didn’t want to tear out the flowers along with the weeds.

Then, I wrote my book. Again, I naively thought that if I could pass on something, anything, that may possibly lighten another’s grief journey or help them to cope, all the work and sleepless hungry nights will have been worth it. Surprise, Surprise! Again, I received the unexpected and unanticipated. The attacks increased…multiplied. I was shunned by some, others criticized and judged, still others saw me as some sort of ‘competitor’. Another very ‘rude awakening’ pummeled me. Again, I was crushed and had to start the process all over again. I began to see God’s hand in much of it. Not as the causation, but rather as a Teacher. Slowly, my eyes were opened. Some things I have seen have not been welcomed, but seen nevertheless. I simply cannot ‘not’ observe. It’s ingrained in me, in who I am. Then God began to use such things to transform me. Slowly, over time, He has been reconstructing me. It’s been a gradual metamorphose. He has been reshaping me from a cave dweller into a warrior.

No longer shall I bury myself in my tears, though tears I shall shed; no longer shall I cower and withdraw into my cave. I have been evicted. No longer need I concern myself with lack of strength, for upon His Strength I shall depend. So, I am placing folks on notice. When you attack, I shall respond. I shall confront and expose you and your dastardly deeds whenever and however possible. I shall do so in love, truly. In regards to the ‘Brethren’, I shall rebuke, exhort, reprove and admonish at every turn as instructed to do by my King (2 Timothy 4:2). For those not under Grace but have chosen to remain under the Law, they shall be addressed as such.

That’s it, Folks…plain, simple, and to the point. It’s not a threat, it’s a warning. I stand ready and am simply blowing the trumpet. Boot camp is over.

Psalms 118:6

“The LORD is on my side; I will not fear: what can man do unto me?”

Image result for blowing the trumpet photo

(((HUGS)))  Jude Gibbs, Author of ‘Gifts from the Ashes’ available at:
http://www.directtextbook.com/isbn/9781498496728?geis=y
Articles on WordPress.com: https://wordpress.com/posts/bereavedparentsblog.wordpress.com.

Also, a Contributor on ‘The Mighty’: https://themighty.com/author/jude-gibbs/

Please help spread the Word. TY! (((HUGS)))

 

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Cave Dweller to Warrior

  1. “Pull the weeds to make room for the flowers.” I like that. I have been oh so tempted to withdraw from everyone when my heart is crushed by unexpected cruelty. I am 9 months into this life without my precious daughter.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m so very sorry for your deep heartache, Donmarie. Six to nine mos. I recall as a horrendous time. I was sure the guys with the white coats would come knocking. God led me to a wonderful grief counselor who was free of charge at an inner city funeral home. She helped both myself and my daughter who was only nine then and was dealing with survivor’s guilt in her grief. So many have returned to their own lives by that time…and there we sit…alone in our pain as the denial wears off and the harsh reality moves in. God does sustain us, but it does hurt like hell. The ‘missing’ while we wait to one day be reunited is a roller coaster ride. All we can do is grip on tight to the Lord and ride out these waves. (((HUGS)))

      Liked by 1 person

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