abortion

abortion is something you never get over.
you process, your wounds may heal, you understand you are forgiven:
but the fact still remains that what you've done is permanent.
when the abortion doctors told me they were ready to 'terminate the pregnancy,'
they looked me not so well in the eyes and assured me there was 'no baby forming in my womb, but that is was just a bunch of cells.'
as a 17 year old cocaine addict, I was too numb and in pain to comprehend the facts.
what I've learned is this:
we all make horrible, life-shattering decisions when we are hurting and not walking with God...
but what's so amazing about Jesus is that while we are making these decisions-
He is stretching out His hands to us and whispering,
'I love you anyway.'

simplicity and humility

im breathing a big sigh of relief as this past season is coming to an END!

thank you GOD.  i feel it passing.

i feel finally the old dross of the past year is being swept away.  the darkness, sadness and confusion lasted a while and it was only so much longer that i could hold on.  i remember crying every night asking God what is was He wanted me to learn and how could i get some relief... never got a clear answer, but always felt in my spirit the simple words- 'be still.'

what do the dark times teach us?
to remain low
to cling to Jesus
to remind us of our deep need for God
to teach us about true spiritual authority, because Gods power is made perfect in our weakness
to give us hope of a new day, a brighter day that will come
to remind us that this isnt our final resting place- there is something much more beautiful that awaits
to teach us about ourselves- what is really inside of us- our character, motives

by keeping thoughts simple and maintaining the awareness of my every-second-need for God, i achieve a peace that passes my mind and goes into my heart.

wayward wards

last night i walked into a pysch ward to check up on a student we have here in the program...
i was real nervous at first and counted things anxiously in my head while i breathed in the sterile hallways as the doors locked shut behind me.  the walls were so blank and empty and the mood of the floor was numb.  everyone was a robot, methodically acting out what they knew of their reality.  med time was in effect and the patients waited patiently for their fix.  they waited patiently for their tic tacs in a cup.

there were no smiles.  and i smiled at everyone i saw... tried to pull out some life from them- but they were all dead inside.  how can you smile when you are dead?  i decided to morph with them and allow myself to feel the rythym of the ward.  i fully embraced the feeling.  its about time i start to feel.

during the check in was when i really got anxious... remembering when they had to check my stuff in, and no long handles, no plastic bags, no shampoo or deodorant, no hair ties, no elastic band pants, no normalcy, just bring your saddness.  i was anxious because the flashbacks of suicide jumped in my mind... the rememberance of the mournful dark nights when all that was left of me was to die. 

sorrow tastes like death.  and death is a part of all of us.

one of the nurses was a believer and you could tell as soon as you saw her... she was a light in the dark.  the nurses are the ones who nurse you back to health... if you are doubly blessed- they nurse you back to spiritual health.  i love nurses.

about an hour into being in the ward, since i had not entered a ward since 2009, i began to loosen up.  i began to be at ease with myself.  felt like God was healing some left over broken insides.  it was good.  i focused on the student and we connected on a deep level... something i havent had in a while- a real deep- yea i know your head- and i know mine- and we both have screws loose- and its ok cuz God doesnt call the righteous/perfect but the sinners/imperfects- and you are talking about the time that passed and not knowing where it went- and yea i see that everyday- time existing- time not existing- what is time anyway?

at one point she said, 'miss mariah, i didnt realize how much we are the same.'  and i said, 'yea... yea.'  and she smiled in understanding. 

thoughts fly off into the deep.  sometimes we lose ourselves.  and its only Jesus who seeks and finds and brings us back.
  

rehab remembrance

in one of my many stints in rehab, it was brought to my brain last night... this memory- and it stuck with me- so until i write it... it wont be released.

i had just left the medicine line and had stored some of the downer-pills in my cheek to be brought to my room and hidden for later use. 

where there is a will- there is a way.

as i walked back to my room i laugh with the nurse on duty about how the juice cups always splatter when you open them... those hospital juice cups.  she is a weary, but joyful nurse.  a nurse on duty to help save the fallen drug addicts from heroin hell.

a restlessness stirred within me... so i looked for a new quest... a new high to be had.  a lost boy who is kicking some sort of monster drug walks by... there we are!  i instantly lock eyes with his and next thing i know we are in the back room where the classes on life- management are taught.  ironic.  because there was nothing manageable about my life. 

we get into a trist.  something to escape from the torture of our lives... the haze of what we have become.  at that time it felt i was sort of living.  living in the pursuit of passion.  but it was just humanity at its finest.  lost souls seeking to be found... and found they were not.

this went on for a few minutes and then we escaped the room and one of us got caught, i dont remember who.  we then had been put on discipline and had to sign a paper saying we would not talk.  sign away, m'am! 

in remembering this... it has been brought to the forefront the many pursuits that drive us.   when we are in a place of torture, our desire to be released or freed drives us to the goal... but when we are lost the goal is also misplaced.  our pursuits will lead us to living on the surface of greed and lust.  we will just tap the iceburg of an empty life when we seek what is unseekable. 

truly, there is nothing to be found by one who wants everything.

the life we are meant to live is one that is full and alive in Jesus Christ.  that is the life.  that is a goal that is obtainable... that is meant to be.  we were created to live in joy provided by God.  we were not made to seek the unseekable...  because worldy pursuits will never be found.

last night

i was driving my boss home... we were talking about skin products that are being shipped here for him to try on his skin (he has a skin condition that causes him a lot of discomfort).  i looked down on my arm that i was steering with and said,

'i wonder if those products will help my scars go away?'

he said, 'where did you get those scars from?'

i said, 'suicide attempts.'

he replied staring intently in my eyes, 'i sure am glad Jesus saved you.'

snow run

this morning as i was reading Hebrews, a memory jumped into my head.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

i was running and running and running in the snow... trying to catch a bus to rehab.
i was holding a travel coffee mug and it was spilling, but i didnt care, because i had to get to my group therapy and the methadone clinic.

the snow was deep, and the wetness got into my boots, but i kept running.

i have a perfect memory of the blue sky with the clouds, the freshly fallen snow.  the smell of clean air and the deadness of winter.

i was yelling at the bus to 'wait! stop! im coming!'
but it left me.

then i stood still, heavy breathing, and spit out several swear words.

i was always running towards something... something that always failed me.

memory lane

as i was walking to get my protein shake this morning,
i was suddenly struck by a memory i had of an angel.

one day i was smoking crack in my car... i was in the city and
crouching down trying to hide my shame.

it was the summer time. the windows were rolled down.

as i came up from inhaling and exhaling the crack smoke-
there was a car that came right next to me.

a black old man was driving. he was smiling at me. but not in a condescending or sarcastic way- in a joyful, empathetic way.

i remember his presence. very well. his joy. his peace.

he came right next to my car window. "you know, you are better than that. you have more for your future than what you are doing now. you have your whole life ahead of you. don't waste it on this."

i remember looking at him and smiling back, as i felt the high of the crack cocaine. but something within me sobered me to the reality of what he said.

"thank you sir, but i am fine." was my reply. (like i had everything taken care of)

i thank God that He sent angels to protect me and watch over me in the midst of what i took myself through.

PSALM 91:11
For He will command His angels concerning you, to gaurd you in all your ways.

looking through old writings...

so i am currently at my parents house on a week off from working in ministry and going to bible school.

i was looking through old writings and papers...

they are so fascinating to read.

just a few years ago i was this nervous-pyschotic mess, and now i AM NOT. by the power of GOD.

i would always write especially when i was in the pysch ward. i would write to the 'people in charge' and tell them how they couldnt do their job right. i would write to the legal people and threaten to sue for malpractice. i would write to get my thoughts out on a non-moving substance(paper).

some of the writings i couldnt even read because the handwriting was so messy. these writings i could tell were when i was extremely upset or emotional. and a lot of them i would not-knowingly make into poetry. i ended up with words that rhymed.

surprisingly, i found some writings about God. but it was my experience of not knowing God, of being empty and jealous of people that were happy and laughing. a lot of my writing was anger at 'people are always joking and having a great time, while im stuck in this mental hospital.'

one of the writings was from a boy that was in the ward with me one time, and he told me i
"was an angel that came down from heaven to be my friend."
-this boy was somewhat of a special person.

but it still struck me that someone would say that about me, even when i was at my worst. amazing.

sometimes i have to pinch myself when i think of how FREE i am now. i have lived over a decade in slavery. how lovely is the dwelling house of my God. how sweet is the liberty in His presence. how great is our God.

release

i could barely breathe
i could barely stand

i was barely not even on earth.

for an afternoon spent of praising God
has taken me to a new place.

a weekend of fasting and praying guided my steps
and i found myself broken
once again.

this is a place where i not only 'felt' God
but i entered into His presence... His breath
His holy, chain breaking, romantic, crying, heart-fluttering
presence.

my lungs no longer breathe the stench of death...
i am renewed and revived.
for just yesterday, i felt i would rather die than
live without being with Jesus.

my soul is thumping with hard core love for God.

talk about a dangerous love affair.

This is Mariah Off Drugs

a promise

Exodus 14:13
Do not be afraid.
Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today.
The Egyptians you see today you will never see again.
The Lord will fight for you;
You need only to be still.

well there's a word for my dryed out heart!

i have it posted on a sticky note on my computer...

i have sticky notes everywhere. scriptures all over the place.

deliverance is coming... just hold on.

warning to daughters of God

none of them spoke english.
he wanted to kiss me and i said
'no, i dont do that;
just what ur paying me for.
thats it.'
as i almost threw up-
like i usually did before i had to sell myself.

he was about 50 years old and mexican.
i was 18 and had just graduated to a new level of
low.

i do not remember exactly where i was, or why.
but i was left by my 'friends'...
and i was there alone,
just me, and a lot of old men.

i was coaxed into it.
manipulated.

what they do, is get you extremely high first,
until u have no inhibitions.
until u r completely dependant upon the next fix from
them.

they know what they r doing.
they r vultures.
they prey on young girls who are
high.

i sold myself for $100 and
and an 8 ball of cocaine.

listen to what i am saying-
God wants to give u a life worth living.
YOU ARE A ROYAL PRIESTHOOD.
YOU ARE CHOSEN.

and doesnt everybody just want to belong somewhere?
why not belong to THE MOST HIGH?
he brings deliverance and forgiveness.
i have no more shame telling my story because u should learn from me.

God takes the FOOLS to confound the WISE.
listen to what im saying.

pheen

the sidewalk was frigid and frosted
and i was sitting there, holding my knees,
watching the steam flow out of my mouth.

i had just left the apartment that i was crashing in,
where the old man that lived there,
pimped me out.
i left that apartment to go to a different apartment
where there would be
more money and more drugs.

but i ended up getting kicked out of this place,
where i was about to get money for
dancing for a small group of men.

i was thrown out because i saw this guy had a bag of crack and
i wanted it- before i did the deed.
and i went after it,
trying to grab it from his hands.

there was about three guys holding me down,
and i was kicking and screaming,
yelling at them to give me the crack.

'give it to me! why r u flashing it in front of my face, but u wont give it to me? i need that crack.'

'u have lost ur mind, girl. we dont want no crazies up in here.
now- GET OUT OF HERE.'

i must have looked like a baby that was crack addicted and
crying and shaking
because the drug was no longer in their body.

crying and screaming like a newborn
withdrawing from crack.

they threw me out of the crack house
where i was left in the emptiness of the night...

the sidewalk was cold and dirty

and i was sitting there, holding my knees.

thrown like a ragdoll.

a car pulled up,
a green minivan.

he told me to come in the van.
i did.
it was cold out.
and he told me he was gona drive to get me money and coke,
but first i had to do what he wanted.

one part of me knew that wasnt true.
i knew that he wasnt going to come back just to give me
drugs and money after i did what he wanted.

but the other part of me,
the part that felt like i was just a worthless, dirty,
addicted, pheen,
-she-
thought that it didnt sound like that bad of an idea.

and someone like me,
thought i deserved to be treated like that.

the evil won and,
he never came back to give me the drugs or money.

runner

i was running,
fast
through the woods in our small town.
i was running from this guy that just wanted 'to talk'

just before that,
i had ingested a large amount of cocaine
and ritalin.

we were at this guys house,
and the early morning started to appear.

people were leaving the party,
and those stupid birds started chirping.

i was about 16...
and was severely addicted to cocaine.

the woods were green and brown,
and the sticks cracked under my feet.

the leaves made that rustling noise, that they always do.
and my heart was working overtime.

i ran
and ran
and ran.

and i ran
until the trees stopped yelling at me.

i ran to my 'home' that was really just a
resting stop.

i never really felt at home
anywhere i went
becuz everywhere i went,

i ran from.

when i run to Jesus,
its the safest,
sweetest place
to be...

ive always been a runner.

mutilation

"There is a relationship between our
willingness to die for God
and His willingness to deliver us."

there is nothing in this life that
i want more than to be with Jesus...

because he has delivered me from so much
evil...
how can i not want to just worship him and
love him?

i used to be a cutter.
i remember feeling so good when i would
slice my skin open.

it was such a 'high'

seeing the blood calmed me down.

for me, i was such a bipolar pre-teen,
that it was so difficult for me to get
feelings and emotions out appropriately.

instead of asking God to help me,
i would seek self-mutilation
for a release.

in our old house in hamlin,
my dad had a tool area in the basement.
one night, feeling frustrated,
i went down there to pick out a weapon.
i saw my picture up on his bulletin board...
i was like 8 years old in that picture.
i picked out a hammer and

started banging my face.

i looked at my picture and that made me
want to hurt myself more.

i hated myself and who i was.
i think i was like 15 at that time.

Gods delivering power could deliver even
ME.
even someone like ME!!!

once u r willing to let everything go
and stop holding onto every little thing...
something amazing happens.

i cant imagine hurting myself now.
i have no desire to.

i have been completely delivered from self-mutilation.

'medication the rest of your life'

several doctors have told me that statement in my lifetime.
when they suggested electric shock therapy, i was relieved at the thought that some peace in my head could be possible with this treatment.

i told my psycotherapist that i would try this walter hoving home rehab first, and if that didnt work, i would come back to get the treatment, and to get put back in the endless stupid cycle of therapy/counseling.

glory to GOD!
while i was at the home, i was extremely unstable and suicide was just a bottle of pills away, locked in the medicine cabinet they had in basement.
i have attempted several times in my life, so it was no strange thing to me that i was being taunted to kill myself again.

but i kept getting pulled to seek God and to trust that he would make it okay somehow.
he wanted me to live. and his love for me(and you) is endless.

the website for: walter hoving home is:
(christian rehabilitation center for women)
www.walterhovinghome.com

i stayed a year at this program and since that year: havnt taken any psych meds, or illegal drugs.
thats HUGE for me!