"Bird Set Free"

Clipped wings, I was a broken thing
Had a voice, had a voice, but I could not sing
You would wind me down
I struggled on the ground

So lost, the line had been crossed
Had a voice, had a voice, but I could not talk
You held me down…
I struggle to fly now

I heard this song by Sia about a week ago, and I haven’t been able to stop listening to it. This song compares women who are being abused to a bird locked in a cage, and I think there's no better analogy.

There’s one person in particular who has had such a hold on my life – I see this person when I open my eyes in the morning, and when I close them at night. Sleep is riddled with nightmares of this person finding me, and hurting one of my friends in efforts to get back at me. For so long I was paralyzed by that fear. I would toss and turn at night, running through what I would do in that situation over and over again until I was shaking and in tears. I knew that whatever came, I would protect the people I loved regardless of the cost.

I forgot that there are people in my life who want to protect me, too.

In my journey of healing from the trauma and working through the PTSD, I have confronted a lot of those fears face-on. My attacks have slowly progressed from “He’s going to find me, please God, don’t let him find me,” to “He can’t ever hurt you anymore. You’re safe. You’re protected. He’ll never hurt you again.” My roommate and close friend has been a huge part of that healing process, as I mentioned in the post about PTSD, and I can’t imagine having done all of this without her.

Unfortunately, no matter how much I have healed, I still have those nightmares. But in this last month, I have walked so strongly into my freedom. I’ve begun to shed my identity of the woman who was horrifically abused for so long. I’ve looked in the mirror and seen the strength that I have in my eyes – strength that carried me through hell and back. After doing a narrative, in which I detailed as much of the abuse as possible in regards to this specific man, my counselor told me that “it is astounding that [you] are able to function as well as you are.” I’ve been flying so broken for so long that I didn’t recognize the strength the Lord has given me.

Now I fly high, hit the high notes
I have a voice, have a voice, hear me roar tonight
You held me down
But I fought back loud

I have struggled with many other things that are linked back to the hurt I endured, including anorexia. This eating disorder was something I played very close to my heart for a long time, and it wasn’t until my counselor called me out on it last semester that I recognized how much of a problem it was. I didn’t finally admit it – or call it what it is – until about three months ago. I’ve lost so much weight in the last two years, but I couldn't see it.

I’ve grown so much stronger in that area of my life, and I have several people keeping me accountable. Growing honest about that broken part of me, and confessing those hurts and pains to God, has contributed to so much freedom. Now I look in the mirror and see such beauty. I refuse to step on a scale because I’m learning that that number neither defines who I am as a person, nor my beauty or worth in Christ.

I don’t care if I sing off-key
I find myself in my melodies
I sing for love, I sing for me
I shout it out like a bird set free

I lived as a caged bird for years. I hated what I saw in the mirror for so long because of nasty lies hurled at me by people who had broken me. It wasn’t until I moved to Winona that I was shown how a brother should treat his sister-in-Christ. In the last seven months I have gained these two incredible friends who challenge me and show me the respect that God commands of a man. They have taught me to let others take care of me and help me when I need it (though I think they’d both tell you it’s still a challenge), they have taught me that I can feel safe around men, and they have prayed for me and laughed with me when I have needed it most. God sent these individuals to help me begin unlocking that cage, starting to free me from those years of hurt and oppression.

God moved me into a home with a girl I’d "known" for twelve years, but didn’t truly know until these last five months. He opened a door of trust and accountability, giving me someone to call me on my crap (and oh, Lord, does she), pray with me, hold me during PTSD attacks, and laugh with me until crazy late in the morning. He gave me a sister who helped push me out of the cage that I had finally unlocked.

God helped heal a broken relationship in my life, and helped me forgive someone who meant the world to me. God moved her heart and lifted the blinders that had been placed on her eyes by people who took advantage of her vulnerability. Christ has helped her to believe me, love me, and work with me in ways I didn’t think would ever happen.

In a week and a half, I lose my roommate and sister-in-Christ. I wasn’t sure how I would do living with people who didn't know my story or about the PTSD, and then out of the blue I got a text from a wonderful sister I met this year, telling me she would be renting the house I was living in throughout the summer. I fell back on the couch in tears, and looked up and thanked my Jesus for answering a prayer I hadn’t even prayed yet.

I was caged and broken in ways I will not express. I have had my will and body broken in horrific ways, but I prove my strength every dang day that I choose to get out of bed, fall on my knees, and pray to my faithful God. I look in the mirror and I see strength in these beautiful brown eyes – eyes that were dead for far too long. I see the love and the compassion and the mercy that Christ has gifted me with. I utilize this strong gift of discernment that I suppressed for too long. I walk out the door and pray that my God will use every word I say, every breath I take, and every action I make for His glory, and His kingdom. I have kicked open that bird cage, and there is nothing in all of creation that can silence me or hold me down. I feel the enemy’s fear at this newfound strength, and I speak to him out loud and tell him that he should be scared, because I have the Lord God Almighty on my side. Christ is going to do the most incredible works through me, and it is by His grace alone that I even have the strength to author this blog.

The voices that I hear that tell me I’m weak, worthless, and have nothing to offer – those same voices that might speak to you – they are straight from hell. And Brigham Young said, “If you have a bad thought about yourself, tell it to go to hell, because that’s exactly where it came from.” No matter how tightly you’re being held down right now, you fight back and you fight back loud. Stand by me in my refusal to be caged any longer, and take Christ’s hand as we walk in our freedom.

“My prayer is that when I die, all of hell rejoices that I am out of the fight.” –C.S. Lewis

~I shout it out like a bird set free~