Another Piece…

He is in a fit of rage and lifts a glass vase to smash it across my face. In self defence I scream “my brothers will hit you if you lay a hand on me.” He’s six foot six and I’m just a teenager…The cry of my toddler at 4am wakes me from the nightmare…

I lay awake and revisit the memories of my childhood. Vows broke between my parents, ties of love severed and a parting in my family took place- It was a month after my 7th Birthday…

I walked my mama down the aisle as a ten year old. Wearing a jade shaded dress, holding a bouquet of baby’s breathe as curls fell down my back.

As time passed by, his true colour manifested. My mama being the strong woman she is, fought with might and determination to honour the vows she’d made for the second time…

He was a high achiever posing as an executive within a large Sydney company, money was disappearing and the bottle of scotch emerged nightly. An escape I imagine

Moods became black and our home hostile as I grew from an innocent girl to a young woman… tainted

He despised me and flaunted it daily…The feeling was mutual

Words were not spoken much between He and I-enough to remain courteous to keep peace…I would have done anything for my mama and her heart that held opened wounds. A strong love compelled me to protect and nurture her, even if it was in child like ways…

He was drunk one night when I went to bed and in a mood that had changed from dark to jovial

I closed my door and shut my eyes, not knowing how long the night was going to be…

I woke to a scream and a loud bang as he threw my mama against brick and mortar. The woman who’s pyjamas were now torn, was crying and surrendering to a man full of rage and anger. Her instinctive nature was to protect her children…mine was to fight with every fibre in my being.

I took charge as mama fled with my little brother, he was like a bull with a red flag but I didn’t care. I rung the police as he chased me around the house. I heard the calls of my mama to run outside where they were…

I escaped to our front porch where he grabbed me and in slow motion went to strike hard against my face. A set of hands grabbed his closed fist…my step brother intervened and saved…we ran that night down the street into darkness, fleeing from danger and into safety

Sirens bellowed in the distance which came to provide a sanctuary.

Time passed and mama kept fighting for her marriage & the man that spent endless amounts of money in poker machines and at bars. His bedroom eyes also got the better or him and so did mama’s determination…

Time had moved on and so had our lives when I saw him one hot summers day golfing. His face was perspiring and he awkwardly moved passed me. I was selling cold cans of drink on the golf course. I stood and stared at the him as he walked away. Pity overwhelmed me and I knew I had to act

I chased after him and handed him a cold drink. A thousand words were exchanged as he graciously and humbly received my gift. Silence separated us as I turned & walk away leaving the pile of mess behind to focus on what was ahead.

I life of freedom

Years have passed and the flesh once raw and slashed is closed and healed.I sit reflecting here this morning as I watch my own family play and dance to the rhythm of life. Eyes sparkle and dance as children play, the pastor that I call husband tenderly cares and protects this heart of mine because he knows

I meditate on God who I unashamedly call my Heavenly Father. He alone is the reason why I’m whole again. He’s mended, restored and brought deep healing. He’s broken chains of sadness and has given me a joy filled melody

Its easy you know, to have passion for our God because he has proven to me over and over that he never leaves nor forsakes…even in the ‘valley seasons.’

You will catch me, hands high in worship, singing praises and thanking the Lord of all the universe for what he’s done in me.

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One thought on “Another Piece…

  1. Hannah, your story so raw and deeply affects me, and yet joyfulness follows as you allow your heavenly Father heal you in ways only He can. You are blessed to embrace that healing because there are so many who hold on to their wounds. God bless you, God bless all those who hold on to their hurts. I know we hear it as a cliche, but it is so true…Let go, let God. He does heal those wounds…if you let Him.

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