Some childhood photos

A baby photo of me

Easter with my rabbit

The Toast

Sitting together in the beautiful arboretum as our time together comes to an end, the facilitator pops out champagne glasses and some sparkling cider proclaiming we're going to have a toast.  "Did she say a toast?”  “How odd,” I thought.  I took my glass and watched as the glasses were eagerly passed from survivor to survivor.  It appeared to be perfectly acceptable to those surrounding me.  What in the world are we going to toast, I inwardly pondered.  To pain?  To dysfunction?  To rape?  To incest?  To depression?  To molestation?  To shame?  The first glass is raised and a toast is made, "to recovery!"  Glasses clink.  "To Shelter!" Clink again.  "To truth!"  Clink!  By the third "clink", I began to see.  These once very broken ladies are all on a journey.  No two the same, but common still.  They've each known the pain and shame of sexual abuse.  These ladies found Shelter, are learning the truth about their painful sexual past, and are somewhere on the path of recovery.  They are looking  forward to a life of restoration and freedom.  They are embracing wholeness of their person as God intended.  Hope is abundantly present on this day; nothing at all odd about toasting that!  I get it clearly now as I raise my glass.  "To freedom!"  Freedom from the past, freedom in life, in relationships, and in Christ!  To God be the Glory!  Amen.