Do you believe some dreams are meant to die? Until this past year, I never believed they did. I have always advocated others to ‘believe in’ and ‘achieve’ their dreams by way of personal example and perseverance. To have unwavering faith. To not allow any man or experience rob you of your beliefs or destroy that of which you know to be true in your soul…
That being said, I haven’t allowed myself to indulge in too many dreams during my 39 years. I’m sure we could pick it apart in therapy and find a dozen reasons why! Although, there have been a couple which I’ve dared to allow at different times. Some are more materialistic like traveling the world and sitting on the beach in Hawaii to write a book. Yes, it is cliché, but never the less a part of mine.
Then there are other kinds of dreams – the kind I’ve had since childhood – the kind that have to do with morals, values, relationships and our experiences as mere human beings. Dreams like… there must be something better out there than what I have experienced. Dreams of belonging and being accepted into a big, loving family. The most special of all my dreams though were of being a mother and a wife.
Well… I couldn’t have been anymore blessed by the gift of being a mom to the greatest kid I have ever known! She’s almost grown and I can only pray that I’ve given her the love and foundation she needs to be and do more than I ever could in this life, to be happy and fulfilled, to find God and let Him into her heart. She has been such a great kid and despite the normal struggles of teenage years, she been so easy to raise and has always been a joy to have. I couldn’t be more proud as a mom for the young woman she is growing up to be. I believe her birth saved my life and she has been my reason for being here – I was meant to be her mom. As for being a wife… unfortunately, that dream became my worst nightmare!
So… maybe some of us aren’t meant to be happy, live our dreams or know anything different. Maybe… just maybe some of us aren’t meant to know what ‘good’ is until we reach our final destination. What purpose then is our life? What is the meaning or reason for all the pain and suffering we might endure if it doesn’t turn out good in the end for us here? Perhaps the only ‘reason’ or ‘meaning’ is strictly for the benefit of others. So if nothing good comes of my life… yet, your knowing of my struggles helps you in some way – well, then it’s all been worth it. Is that how it really goes? Is that really what it’s all about?
Back to dreams – there’s the last kind of dream. The kind that supersedes anything we will ever know on this earth. The dream of finally going home to be with our Father in heaven. That has been my souls greatest desire ever since I can remember – long before I actually came to Christ even.
So to be honest, I’m not in a good place. I don’t want to blog, because I don’t want others to know. I’m not handling things well and have reached my limit in every way possible. You hear all the time about men going through a mid life crisis when they’re in their mid 40’s… how about women in their 30’s?
There is a huge transition that’s been taking place in my life since I began this blog – the whole reason for its creation. It was supposed to be the foundation for telling my story and writing a book. It was an attempt to live a normal civilian life. Trying to make the transition has been hell though. I’ve been a mess these past few months and quite frankly… don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’m questioning everything and have lost hope.
What’s The Big Secret?
My story was about being born into abuse, drugs and perversion. It was about being removed from my home when I was 12 in order to protect me from my own family and having to put them in jail. It was about being kidnapped, tortured and surviving multiple rapes over the years. It was about marrying a man with different identities who’d been under investigation for years and the relationships which subsequently followed. The core of the story though was about being recruited to work undercover with the FBI and DA’s for the last decade, spanning coast to coast, while being involved in several different cases all across the country. It was about US Marshals, being trained by Green Berets, the good and bad of our justice system, and the abuse I survived prior to (and even while) being undercover. It was about becoming a voice for the victims and the existence and needs of underground programs which help them when the FBI witness protection program isn’t even enough. Mostly, it was about finding Christ in the midst of it all and never losing hope or faith. It was a story about survival.
And while I’ve wondered if the cost has (at times) been too high, it was those same experiences and way of life (which I chose) that were the very reason for my increased faith and trust in God. So, it was supposed to be a story about a faith and trust that I have always thought to be the un-forseen treasures in life… the priceless ones that could never be measured.
But… I can’t say that anymore.
I am too tired. So many people have encouraged me to tell this story, because what matters they say is the faith and love I still have through it all. But, if I don’t have that anymore… then I don’t have a story. I can’t tell His story if I fail to see it through or make it to the end…
I’ve not written anything quite like this since I was a teenager… regardless of what I’ve been through, I’ve not felt just empty and beaten like this. In fact, I had learned long ago how to let any hardships and challenges propel me forward instead – deepening and strengthening my hope, faith and love. The harder Satan would push, the closer to Christ I got. That just isn’t the case anymore and I don’t know what’s happened. I’ve reached my limit. In an effort not to go undercover anymore and close a huge chapter in life, it seems I have lost even more.
Dreams That Die
(THIS IS PART OF A POST I’D WRITTEN UPON OUR ARRIVAL TO THE ISLANDS A FEW WEEKS AGO THAT I NEVER PUBLISHED.) “After traveling the country side several times over, being relocated to more states than I ever thought to visit, moving from California to spend this summer in Florida and North Carolina, I have finally reached the final destination of this chapter in life. It has been a very long and awaited haul, but we recently completed the last piece of our journey to settle on the beautiful islands of Hawaii.”
Sounds good, right? However, things are not as they seem. We’ve spent a few weeks on Oahu and a couple on Maui. It’s a gorgeous place to visit, but perhaps not the best place for a couple of girls to move to when they’re alone.
It begs me to wonder then, what is the dream really all about? I need to remember the reason for the story and trust God can continue to use it even when I screw things up. I’ve avoided blogging so freely, because i didn’t want this to take on the feeling of a ‘journal’ but regardless of those efforts, it seems to continue to push that way no matter what. So… here we are.
I guess instead of worrying so much about a professional appearance or what others will think, I just need to write. Maybe that’s the point of all this… of being so broken. I have continued to try and control all of this way too much instead of really trusting and letting go to see what God will do with it.