be-musings

Before you read this blog, read Brander’s. It will prepare you for my discourse.

For many years I have locked the doors of my house…always. Even when inside with others. I was ridiculed for doing so. Not really ridiculed in retrospect. I was enlightened. I lock the doors for fear of physical violation.
When at the brink of sleep, in those moments of letting go of the body and giving in to rest, I have often been awakened by the illusion of a dark shadow in the bedroom doorway. For years I’ve had a plan of action if my fears came true. At times I can almost feel the physical abuse of this fear.
Most of my life I’ve been captive to being a woman. I’ve been hesitant to celebrate how God has made me because it isn’t right. It’s perceived as sexual. Forbidden. So I lock myself down and try to be as gender neutral as I can be, yet maintain enough of what God has made me. Of who I really am.
As far back as early puberty I have memories of men trying to make a claim to me, either emotionally, verbally, or physically. And I don’t want to know what has happened in the minds of some. I have guarded my behaviour so as not to invite these actions. Yet, the violence continues. I say violence because I have been a victim to behaviours and interactions which have changed me as a person. They eat at my soul, cause me to believe that I am a bad person – am wrong and responsible for everything. If were physically raped I would be convinced that I deserved it. That I invited it by my clothes, my actions, my expression of character. Though I haven’t been physically raped I have been emotionally raped.
So many years of history. It’s hard to put down. I was beginning to trust that maybe things would change. That I would heal.
Today I found out that I am creating a “situation” which is causing a problem to some. There are some who want to tell me I’m not allowed to dance in church. I’m not allowed to be me before God. It is a stumbling block to some. I’m not allowed freedom and to live that which God has put in my heart…has created me to be. It has even been said that if I were 300 pounds and ugly there wouldn’t be a problem with the way I move. What right does anyone have????? And should I be less offended with that comment or more offended at the insensitivity of those who hold that viewpoint about myself or my sisters?
I now have a choice, and believe me the choice is mine. I’ve repressed a gift of God for 25 years before using it again last week, and I can repress my true nature during worship. If that’s what needs to happen I will be strong. And that means I’ll give in to the bondage of the problems and sickness other people have. But I have to weigh that choice with the feeling that I’m participating in something sick and twisted if I am true to myself. I have to deal with the idea that some men are imagining me in ways that wrench the insides of me. Even if it’s only a couple, is the freedom worth it?
I’ve been told I can’t give up this freedom. That none of us can give up that which we’ve discovered these last few weeks. I want to fight the fight. But I weary when I wonder how many fights will need to be undertaken. I’m tired…so tired.
So, I have a choice. Part of me wants to repress, and part of me wants to fight.
Only God can see what it will be – and I want to be in line with Him and humble for correction if that’s what He wants . Right now at the time of this post:

Well I won’t back down, no I won’t back down
You can stand me up at the gates of hell
But I won’t back down
Gonna stand my ground, won’t be turned around
And I’ll keep this world from draggin’ me down
Gonna stand my ground and I won’t back down

Hey baby, there ain’t no easy way out
Hey I will stand my ground
And I won’t back down.

Well I know what’s right, I got just one life
In a world that keeps on pushin’ me around
But I’ll stand my ground and I won’t back down

Hey baby there ain’t no easy way out
Hey I will stand my ground
And I won’t back down
No, I won’t back down