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Job 33:14 Indeed God Speaks Once, Or Twice, Yet No One Notices It. In A Dream, A Vision... We Can O

This is the sixth blog of this series. Here are the first five blogs: blog1, blog2, blog3, blog4 and blog5.

At the end of blog 5, i shared my dream. In this dream I was in a military vessel of some kind but I was not military myself. My romantic partner in this dream was military. I was not his wife. I was his girlfriend. The message that I felt to take from this dream was to concentrate on the theme of the relationship with this man. All events revolved around the ending of that broken relationship.

Because I've never dated a military man, I trust that as i write this post, the messages my subconscious is expressing are more clear to me. Not sure what memories I am processing in this dream since I've never been on a military vessel either. Regardless, I am looking forward to how this blog unfolds.

I Wanted To Become A Nun. Wait, What?!

When I was 8 years old my grandmother celebrated my wish to become a nun. She believed this sacrifice would bring enormous blessings into our family for generations. My father had a different approach to my decision. He encouraged me to look for other means to communicate with God. Needles to say, i did not go to a convent at age 8. Instead, at age 41 my desire is the same: to be closer to God.

Thru persistence, i did find other means to feel closer to God. Today I celebrate my close relationship with my Father God thru prayer, praise and worship, thru my relationships, thru my work, and thru my volunteer work.

Why Is This Nun Story Important?

The fact is that when my fully packed suitcase stood at the door with me in my best white dress holding my grandmother's hand, my father walked in with my mother. My suitcase was taken from the door and was placed back into my bedroom. My grandmother went into my parents' bedroom and i was left in the living room.

Soon thereafter, my grandmother left without me, as i stayed behind crying with my broken heart. I was asked to please go change and unpack. I would not be moving to any convent; end of conversation.

A few days later, during a family gathering, the family found out about my trip cancellation. One of my relatives jokingly said to me, "If you're 18 and you're still not chasing boys and boys are not chasing you, that's when you decide to become a nun. You don't decide that at 8." I pulled my hand from this relative and ran away to hide and cry again. The shame placed on me by the entire family as they jokingly laughing at me, felt unbearable at that moment.

Even today, i can remember the room where i was in when this was said to me. I remember the people all around laughing. I remember many details of that specific memory. To this day, this is the first instance that i remember being angry with God. (The second was January 9, 2015, when Debra Ramirez illegally removed custody from me again, against CYFD orders.) Read my petition here.

What Did Boys Have To Do With God? And Why Was My Male Cousin Allowed To Be A Priest?

As i sobbed, i remember asking God, did He not love me? Why would He allow others to interfere with my ability to sacrifice my life to prayer? Why were boys an issue when it came to my God? Was the lesson that I learned at 8 telling me that i had to choose between God or hanging out with the boys? (romantic relationships were a foreign concept to me at 8). Clearly my answer today is yes. I undoubtedly suffered a traumatic emotional event during this period.

Like other highly charged emotionally traumatic events, this one too forged a large set of destructive beliefs regarding: male / female roles in society, females' opportunities were different from males', my spiritual connection to God depended on the result of 'chasing of boys', my relationship with God was dependent on my parents' decisions, my grandmother did not have the power to help me, and my decisions could be ridiculed by family members at any time without anyone there to help me.

I Am Found Crying Not Wanting To Join The Family.

My father told me that as a young boy he too loved the church very much. He told me the story of how his mother took him and his siblings to 7 churches every year on Palm Sunday. He vividly remembered the beautiful churches, with their music, and the sweet bread they all ate. He said that as children we see church as a way to feel happy all of the time, but church is not to be used as an escape. I tried to persuade him that this was my calling, per God. My idea of being a nun had nothing to do with escaping life.

My words were not taken seriously. So, my father continued on with his message. He explained that as we mature, our dreams of being in a certain profession will change over time. He said his dream was not to grow up and work inside of an office all day. However, he explained that his work as a Diplomat helped many people every day. He explained that thru his work he had also met my mother.

I didn't budge. My personality was clear at age 8. I remember asking him for proof that his decision was more important than mine. This personality trait has been a vital aspect in my success as a professional but also has played a part in my unwillingness to compromise in personal relationships. I can see this now.

My Behavior Takes Front Stage. I Am Urged to Read Etiquette Books And Requested To Begin Behaving Like A Lady. No More Jumping Off Trees With The Boys And Playing Soccer With Them. My Fishing Equipment Is Confiscated As Well.

For days i stayed in my room and prayed in anger. Then, my father came by and gave me a book as a gift. The book was on how to behave like a lady. A great number of negative beliefs were created during this single traumatic incident. Within days i went from being an independent, headstrong tomboy who was going to be a nun, to someone who had been stripped of her identity for the sake of society.

This is the first time that i remember being told that what boys were allowed to do is different from what girls are allowed to do. Over the next 3-4 years my parents constantly spoke to me regarding my behavior. It has taken me a lifetime of self introspection to realize that all parents lovingly do the best that they can with the tools that they have, at that time in their lives.

Needless to say many of my judgmental and critical beliefs about men, God, relationships, societal expectations, and even money came into existence when i was only 8 years old. I am logically looking at these past emotionally charged traumatic memories and replacing those destructive beliefs with healthy beliefs supported by scripture.

This Is An Example Of How I Have Been Processing My Emotional Trauma.

After only writing a few sections of this post, I felt hunger. Because I am fasting this week, for Holy Week, (I am only eating at noon. I was surprised at how much I can eat during one single meal per day.) I waited until noon to eat.

After eating, i came back to the computer to continue writing the post. My attention continued to venture back to my old post. I reread the old post and corrected a few typos I had missed during editing. Again, I came back to continue writing this post. Slowly a bit of a headache began to take over my thinking.

If I have learned how to keenly listen to my body, and I have been able to learn over the years to how my body speaks back to me, I believe everyone can also learn.

My YoungLiving essential oils are always close by. I reached for my peppermint, rosemary, Clarity and Valor essential oils. (ask me about becoming a distributor.) I then took a break and went to chat with my mom. We filed our nails and made plans for going to church tonight. After our talk, i then prayed over my healing in this area of my life.

Images From My Mind's Eye.

As i sat in my favorite pose, I closed my eyes and began my breathing exercises. I prayed over the Word and asked for His guidance during this healing process. Images began to flash in my mind's eye. I saw the family group setting that i described at the beginning.

The gathering was very clear, as if i were reliving the entire scene again. I marveled at the exact details that i have retained 3 plus decades later. My attention went to feeling what i felt then, and looking at all of the people. The more concentration I made on focusing on people, their clothing, the environment, the walls, the decorations, the food, the more blurry the images became in my mind.

My breathing began to accelerate as i remember thinking, "No. I wish to heal this. Images, don't go away." As i fought to decrease the blurriness of the images, I noticed that a small object was in the distance. As it approached me, the image became 3 dimensional. It was a piece of wooden block. The wooden block piece was colored and it was slowly rotating. I could see all of the sides. It was a few inches thick. It slowed even more as it approached.

Finally, the puzzle looking piece stopped moving in front of me. As it stood in front, i began to see clearly the images on it, but i noticed a hole in the center of my chest cavity with the same image. My attempts to touch the piece were unsuccessful. I reached for it, but I seemed to have no arms. As I asked myself, "How am i going to put that back inside of me?" The piece moved on its own volition towards me. A darkness came over my closed eyes. (I wondered if a huge cloud had covered the sun.) Then, I noticed that the piece had snuggled itself inside of that black matching piece inside of me.

As this happened, a very bright light (remember I thought that a huge cloud had covered the sun, while I had my eyes closed) overcame my body. I felt a sensation that is quantifiable. Peace overcame my heart. As i brought back my distraction to the party image, i now saw a children's book instead of a live scene.

The pages would turn as i could see my family members inside of that book. I no longer felt sadness at that scene. My thoughts were of "They did the best they could, at that time, with the best resources they had, at that time." (A message that has been with me for many years. This message is from this incredible woman.)

After sitting in prayer, i opened my eyes and immediately reached for my lap top. The words began to come easily to me again.

This Post Is Taking A Long Time To Process And To Write.

The first blogs of the series seemed to have written themselves. This blog is taking me close to a week to finish.

Three nights ago i had a dream with people of my church. It was fun, it felt light and i felt happy having that dream. Two nights ago, I had a dream where I was back in that house from blog 5. Then last night I had another dream where I was in my own house. The similarity between the dreams that I had on two consecutive nights was that at some point an elderly woman appeared and passed away in my presence.

The woman was a stranger in both dreams, but the similarities continued throughout the dreams. Both ladies came to me for help of some type. Both ladies walked in a frail and slow manner. Both ladies were alone throughout my dreams. Both ladies passed away with me in the same room. Both were dressed in similar garb but the second lady had a head covering scarf, eye glasses and a walking stick. The first elderly lady was much smaller and i could not see her facial features. Her body suddenly disappeared from my dream as well. The second dream had a nicer home, (looked like the home that i used to own). People were around looking for ways to help me. I did not feel guilt over the second lady's passing, where i felt sadness in the first dream. The dreams had a different feeling even though there were many similarities.

The fact that i am no longer dreaming of my grandmother's home is a relief on many fronts. As the dreams have progressed, I seem to be gaining distance from her home and even the entire town. For example, in blog 5 the home was gone and i was walking towards my uncle's home, but I was still on the same street. Two nights ago, the home was in the same city. Last night's dream the home was no where in the same state or in the same country. To me, this is clearly drawing distance from that painful event. Hallelujah!

My Heart's Messages.

1. The process of identifying highly emotional traumatic events and seeing them from a logical perspective has had benefits, for me.

2. Identifying specific destructive beliefs created during each traumatic event, labeling them, and identifying ways in my life how those beliefs have infected my happiness has helped me to process and to realize that new healthier beliefs are necessary. (No judgement toward myself or others as to why i created them.)

3. Immediately replacing the old belief systems with several, new healthier beliefs that are supported by scripture, has allowed my healing to proceed at a steady pace.

4. Constantly reaffirming and declaring the new beliefs, every time that an old belief pattern arises again has been my biggest challenge, so far.

5. For me, my dreams have been a window into my subconscious. This window has allowed me to monitor my progress.

6. This entire Holy Week's daily prayer at my church has definitely stirred something inside of me. The daily, fervent prayer seems to have allowed me to apparently process a lot of emotional trauma in a very short amount of time. I've also had many pastors and church members pray over me in a short amount of time.

7. I vow to continue my prayer and dedication to my own healing, on a daily basis.

We Can Only See Or Let Go Of What We're Ready To See Or Let Go, Both About Others And Ourselves.

My insecurities, suspicions, fears, phobias, disappointments, guilt. shame, projections, and all of the other feelings that come up during interpersonal relationships (when I interact with others) are mostly, (if not all) based on some belief system that I created during an emotionally traumatic event. Could this be true for others?

When i have logically explained my poor choices and i have identified the destructive belief systems are responsible, I've been able to see and let go of what I am ready to see and let go. The observations that I've made about those around me have also been influenced, apparently only when I was willing to see others' destructive behavior. Then and only then have i been able to see how my beliefs have been playing a 50-50 part in the mutually consensual dysfunctional interaction.

Moving Forward, Always Forward.

The perspective of myself is that I've always had empathy for others, hence my life long passion for volunteering. However, these recent observations about myself have taught me that the main reasons for volunteering has been to share the unbelievable amount of love that i feel pouring out of me.

These last few weeks have allowed me to change my perspective on how i see other people's pain and my own. I hope that my ability to empathize with others has grown in understanding thru this process.

Those reading my personal journey could judge me for my mistakes, or hopefully will take the high road by learning from my mistakes, instead.

The blog on self respect has been on the back burner all week. That will be the next blog in this series.

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