Shattered

This blog post comes with a disclaimer:
These are my thoughts.
I am opening a very small door that leads to a greater part of me.
I am letting you into the most vulnerable parts of me.
I do not want to hear your ranting and ravings and overzealous preachings.
Regardless if you are for or against what I have written.
These are MY writings. MY feelings. 

If I ever had to determine what my biggest flaw was it would be that I love too much-that I feel too deeply.

As I sit here in a stoic silence -inside my head I'm screaming.

I listen to the outside world.

The hate, the destruction of humanity and I want nothing more than to close my door. 

To surround myself with the peacefulness of my home.

The peace I have created.

The peace I do not want ruptured.

I spent years living a hell I was forever trying to escape.

I have been broken, shattered, and exploited yet each time I have been able to piece myself together again.

My favorite animal when I was two or three was an albatross.

My mother said "why an albatross it's kind of an ugly bird."

I looked at her with shock on my face and blurted out: "I think it's Beautiful!"

I loved it because nobody ever chooses it. I felt badly because it's never been a favorite.

My favorite color is brown because nobody ever picks brown and I wanted it know that somebody loved it.

I am rooter for the underdog. I love the broken, the fallen, the scarred, and the misfits.  Because I couldn't imagine living life and not knowing someone needed to be loved. 

I couldn't live bearing the thought that I wasn't loved. 

If I feel that need doesn't everyone?

The curse that goes a long with that is that I subject myself to being used and abused over and over again. To the point wherein I let only a few select people into my life. 

I don't trust people. 

I am still willing to go at the drop of a hat to help some one in need

But I am content to return to my home by myself because it means I am safe.

And so here I sit looking at my little world and I'm shaking inside.  

I'm enraged. 

 I am screaming and yelling inside my head. 

And the peace of my world has been smashed.

I am supposed to forgive. 

In this instance I cannot.

When someone who has hurt my child is allowed to go on as though life is normal. 

That is not okay with me.

When your actions leave the rest of us to pick up the pieces, to justify your behavior on behalf of you.

That is disgusting.

When the church rallies around you and puts aside the concerns of other parishioners that is wrong.

When they ask the victims to pardon you for what you have done so that you can feel better about yourself. 

That is disgusting.

I am angry.

I am upset.

I am still not ready to forgive.

If the church feels the feelings and soul of a child predator is worth more than the feelings and souls of his victims. 

I cannot be a part of this.

I've overcome every obstacle proving to me that within the church it is very much a Man's world. 

 I've still pushed through.  

Hung onto that thread of hope. 

That there is truth to all I've been trying so hard to center myself around.

I am sorry.

This is it for me.

I cannot anymore.

I have a testimony of God and Christ. 

That there is something more to the life we have before us. 

But I cannot believe that what is happening right now is right.

My life has been blessed and I do not deny that God has blessed it.

But when you've put everything you have in to something and been screwed around at every turn by the people who are supposed to advise you.

I can't.

I believe the gospel is true. 

I think the people are ruining it.

If that makes me a bad Christian.

Then so be it.