(3) Changing of the guard

     When we saw G he said "New conflicts have caused lots of switching." He said, "If there are any dormant parts below or behind the inner reality, they have been activated. The system is in jeopardy of switching a lot. The activated ones are standing in the doorway looking out, watching to see what will happen. They will be more affected." Something like that. We wrote it down.
     He said we are incredibly wonderful mighty woman of God. He said "See if the little ones can remain in background in arms of Jesus" because these men are still scaring us when we see them at church. He said to build a wall of protection for the little ones. We said, "A bunker." That is what we wanted because we feel we are in a war and we don't want bombs to fall on our head. He said, "No, someplace nicer." But we want a bunker! Bunkers are strong. We saw them in Normandie. We can decorate it nice inside, like a soft nest with feathers and soft music and pretty colors and flowers.
     He said to pray "Lord, show me spiritually what I can do--fit something with nails and pegs, build a wall, a room of safety."
    We have not done that. he says we are at the back of the brain and sometimes he calls one of us to come to the front. I don't know where we are but mostly we feel safe. Someone told us big angels are marching to replace small angels who have been guarding us. She said Jerry and I have a big angel behind each one of us because we are called to a higher level of authority for a higher level of warfare. She said God called it the changing of the angelic guard. She said we are in God's hand and no one can touch us so we feel brave and safe.
     G said In the authority of Jesus, I bless all the parts, especially the little ones.
     We will talk to him again tomorrow. I want to know what our Daddy did to us.

(2) Scared

     These men and other men are doing bad things to our church. Just like Daddy, they say, "Don't tell. Don't tell." But we told. We told everyone. Now these men are very mad at us. They want to destroy us. So we feel very scared.
     Jerry and I are Prayer Coordinators for our church. These men do not want us to pray for our church. That one I told you got angry at us for asking people to pray for our church. He called us and said "Who did you ask to pray! What are you praying! Who made you prayer coordinator?! But HE did! So I was confused. He called us again and said, "Who told you about that meeting! You are not supposed to know about that meeting! It is confidential!" I said "I am sorry. I did not know it was confidential. Can't we pray for it anyway?" He said, "WE'RE praying!" so that meant no. But I don't think they are praying the same things we are praying. 
     They say "There are things the church people are not supposed to know. Don't talk about it. You will divide the church. Keep quiet until things settle down. Keep quiet until everything is in place." What things? I don't think they are good things.
     I will not be quiet. I will not protect perpetrators ever again.

(1) Sad

      The day we told in class that we are fractured we said "we need prayer." we told that a man hurt us with words and it felt like when we were little: The man called and asked questions until I started to cry. I said, "I feel like you are attacking me. You are badgering me!" He said, "I am not badgering you" and he kept asking the questions.

     Three bad men and one of their wives were visiting in our class that day I told about being split. They were spying on our teacher because he tried to stop them hurting our church. One man was the one who hurt us with his words. I was so scared because he was there. When we told the class that he called and scared us and made us split more, we cried a lot. we were shaking so hard Jerry held his arm around us so we would not fall off the chair.  

     The bad people heard me say I am split.

     Every week I used to put people's prayer requests in the e-bulletin. After I said I am in counseling because I am split the elders took my name out of the bulletin and put in the name of the man who scared me on the phone. Now people have to give their prayer requests to him.

     Yesterday, the woman who sat in our class wrote to other people, "There is someone different to call on the prayer requests because the previous person said she is getting counseling and 'other things' which she stated herself in a class."

     I wrote to her, "I am sad that my being in counseling for having been the victim of incest throughout my early childhood makes me unworthy of putting other people's prayer requests in the bulletin. Love, Jessica"

     She wrote me back, "I have never and will never call you unworthy because I don't believe that.  As you noticed below I did not say what you said that Sunday even though you made it public."

     I wrote her, "Maybe not "unworthy" but "disqualified"? I'm glad my heavenly Father doesn't disqualify me for His service because of what my earthly father did to me!

     "I was not making anything 'public.' Our class is not 'public.' I was pouring out my heart to my brothers and sisters who are safe people I can trust to pray for me. I didn't think about the fact that the outsiders present might not be people I could trust to keep such a personal confidence."

      So I am sad. Now everyone knows I am split. They will not let us pray or put church members' requests in the bulletin because I am in counseling and I am split. I feel sad for the little ones. It is not their fault Daddy did those things to them and it is not their fault we are fractured. I am still proud of them!

      I am not supposed to talk about this at church. So I am telling you.

Proud of them

     I want to tell my little selves how proud I am of their speaking up in Adult Bible Fellowship at church yesterday. They told our whole class we have started counseling for Dissociative Identity Disorder. They said I was severely abused throughout my first seven years and it caused such fear and conflict and pain I was split. They said there are parts of me that are very young and wounded.
     Or maybe I said it. But it came from them. They were willing to let people know and ask for prayer. About five people prayed for us out loud right then and there. Others called or e-mailed afterward to tell us they are praying, too.
     I am proud of all of them.

The neatest thing

     The neatest thing happened Sunday.
     Sundays are stressful for the little ones. There are so many people at church, so many people we know, so many people we know on so many different levels.
     The extroverted, gregarious ones of us want to seek out friends who have been sick and find out how to be praying for them. They want to welcome friends back from vacations and set a date to see their pictures. They want to tell this lady what a pretty necklace she is wearing, tell that one her slip is showing. They jot down notes for emails (which they almost never write) to tell the pastor which parts of his sermon they liked and which parts they took exception to. And they want to greet all the newcomers.
     What energizes them scares and depletes the rest of us.
     This Sunday was more stressful than usual. When we got there we realized it was Communion Sunday and the whole congregation would be filing forward to receive pinches of bread and shots of grape juice. It meant being conspicuous. And we'd forgotten that we had to help with the offering (being conspicuous again).
     But something new was happening inside. I could see all the little ones as if they were in the Sunday School room for two-year olds. They were sitting on the floor, contentedly absorbed with picture books, or coloring at tables or--or tumbling all over a stuffed lion, about as long as they were tall. (Actually its mouth moved sometimes but I didn't hear a voice coming out.)
     A lion? Plush? It looked like--well, a miniature, safe-sized Aslan. And, since there was no adult in the room, the lion was apparently handling child care.
     Then I saw a lamb, standing on new, long legs. At first the children were curious. Blood suddenly spurted from a wound in its side--I remember wondering why from its side instead of its neck and then remembered Jesus, the lamb slain from the foundation of the world, had a spear driven into his side. The blood was sprinkling all the children--and they were jumping and laughing and playing in it.
     Then the lamb grew taller and taller until it was above the church roof and we lost sight of it. Its blood seemed to be sprinkling the whole world. The children ignored the legs--still like four pillars among them, reaching up through the ceiling--and went back to playing with the lion.
     Three things occurred to me, one after the other:
          The promise: lion and the lamb will be together, at peace with each other.
          Jesus is both the Lion of Judah, benevolent sovereign, King over all, and the humble Lamb of Sacrifice, bleeding his life out for our sins.
          The King (and Great Shepherd) protecting the children physically and emotionally. The lamb protecting them spiritually.
     The service was still going on but the little ones didn't have to be part of it.

Map of us

     G told us to make a map of ourselves. We know a few things but we don't know how to depict them in map or graph form. (The sample G showed us had circles scattered around, linked with lines, kind of like a genealogical chart.) We'll just list derivations.

    April is not the Original Self. Original Self is deep in the mattress beside Daddy, asleep or in an induced coma for her protection. April came from the Original Self. April is lying along the top of the buried one.
     Melissa split from April, carrying shame. Jess and Jenny split from Melissa in opposite directions at the same time and Melissa went to hide in the closet and pretend she doesn't exist.
     I am an Observer/Recorder who must have pre-existed some of the others. I'm not aware of having a name or knowing my origin. I'm "out" to fill a role.
     Jessica (All-about-Survival) seems to be a primary one--if primary means feeling "This is really me!"--but I thought primary ones have to feel they are the "age of the body," capable of growing rather than stuck at a specific age, and she's only seven.
     And the one Jessica calls "Walks-on-Water" seems to be a primary one.
     That's all I know. Actually, that's more than I know. Some of it is just guessing.
     I have no idea about Amy, Alexis/Iris/Diedre, Emily, the Pain Person, or any of the other one or more Jessicas. If someone else does, feel free to make additions or corrections.
     I see G tomorrow.

SENTRY

Before my muscles tense,
     before my eyes are open,
          I am awake.

     Who am I?
          I don't know.

     What do I know? 
           I have no past
               and I can't be distracted by the future.

Jerry's persistent cough--is it serious? Will he die?
Our houseguests--are they up? Do they need me?
Obama's plan to take away our money--should we get it out of savings
     and if so,
          what should we do with it?

     What is my role?
          I am on alert:
               I am a satellite dish, bigger than I am
                    shifting to monitor any subtle changes in
                         sound
                         sight
                         smell
                         touch
                         taste
                         movement
               that may indicate danger.

          I am a knotted stomach and a pounding heart.

          I am a watcher.

          I am Melissa.

               My color is orange because
               orange is the color of caution.

I can tell through my eyelids--
     it is getting light now.

I don't want to stay out.

I don't want to be here.

Let me go. . .