Newsflash... God loves Raye as much as He loves you!

I am working on Raye's case - tirelessly. Lots of telephone calls. It's interesting how many barriers you come up against but then, as if it were a miracle, a new door opens and a beautiful dream come true happens. Today feels like that kind of day. I want to express my gratitude and joy to those incredible souls who are opening those doors and making hope shine through. It is as though there is a knowing that things will be alright. And it makes my heart sing. God is truly with us all.
Gratitude to the soul(s) who see the truth and will let the whole world know it. Shout it from the rooftops! Praise the Lord! Gratitude to my faith for seeing the truth and the excessiveness of punishment handed to Raye. She is not a murderer. She is guilty of not seeing the evil in the man who murdered her daughter. If you were abused by your former husband, statistics show you will most likely become involved with another one. And who she married before her second husband definitely abusive. He was exactly whom he showed her he was. So it was easy to envision a horrible marriage and future with him. She had the foresight and strength leave. No woman deserves to be physically abused. There is no reason justifiable. A man who beats a woman shows true cowardice. 
So move on forward to the wolf in sheep's clothing. Attractive, tall, handsome, protective, secure. On the outside - not an abuser - or so it seemed. Well, hindsight is 20/20 and abusers are often very manipulative. Bet on it Raye shared the abuse she endured in her first marriage. The perfect set up to be groomed by this creature. And he saw open access to a child to help him fulfill his strong desires of pedophilia. Did Raye see this? No. She only saw someone who would rescue her from being a single parent. It looked awfully good. After all - he was a father himself. 
So easy now to look back and see where this was leading. But certainly not at the time.
And we have all been fooled by people who feign sincerity and then show their true colors. ALL OF US!
A friend of mine once said - "When someone shows you who they are, believe them."
So where am I going with this? I notice a lot of people read Ms. Ortiz's blog. And many feel free to comment and offer false sincerity, support and praise. Pathetically sweet as it is - it is far from sincere. It is a bait for everyone to believe what you see is the face of something quite loving or lovely.
Well - in time and over time - these people continue to abuse her. Commenting on her by name calling in their blogs. Posting nastiness on something called "Topix". It really is a case study for a psychiatric dissertation. Not unlike being sociopathic. Certainly dissociative. Often explained in a way using some transference in the equation. Ridiculous. Plain old language? Just plain evil and more than half crazy. Thankfully - neither she or I read their fluff but certainly get cut and pastes from plenty of people. 
So my commentary is for these so called grief stricken individuals who say they advocate for Kelsey. 
Find something positive to do with your time. Quit whining about what has happened to you. You are an adult now. You can decide to live a better life and let go of your past. Quit identifying yourself as a victim. Stand up and create change. Stop with the self pity. Stop using abused children to identify who you are. You're far from it. And you are not using your time for God's calling. 
That is exactly what Jody is doing. God's calling. And that is what I am doing.
Sitting in the center of a tornado and letting it spin to bring attention to yourself only gives you negative attention. And perhaps you don't see that. But it seems like a foolish way to draw attention to yourself because people are not interested in you because of someone else's abused child. Instead of hitching your rope to Kelsey's wagon, create your own advocacy group based on your personal experience. At this moment in time, you are simply salving your own wounds with the sorrow of other people's tragedies. This will not help you move forward.
Buy yourself a new dress. Change your hairstyle. Advocate for children not yet in the cycle of abuse. You know nothing about the experiences of the families you speak of but your testimony is powerful when you speak of your own experience. Use that as a catalyst for change. You can only relate to what you yourself experience. And that story alone has power to create change.
What about my own issues in childhood? Well - by the grace of God and good talk therapy, I feel wonderful. I love my family. I am incredibly blessed. I don't want to live in the past - I want to savor each present moment. I am glad to love God, be surrounded by those who love Him and themselves, and grateful for friends who have so much more to do in this world that hurt other people with their words.. 
God loves Raye just as much as He loves you. Well it's true! No matter what you say about Raye, God loves her as much as He loves you. When you speak, you use the voice He gave you to either make things better or make things worse. I think it best to make things better. So I have edited this here and there trying to find the better part of me. And I think I have.
So quit fighting a losing battle and start making something out of your life. He has a higher calling for you. All I will continue to pray that you find your higher road. It's there - you just have to be open to it.

integrity & character

My deep seated values follow along a pretty curvy line, I am embarrassed to say. I have made many mistakes in my life and goodness knows I have spent a lot of my time down on my knees asking for forgiveness. It is such a struggle for me to simply be me. I have never been able to live up to my standards. 
However, something that seems to come quite naturally to me is remembering that we should all do our best to seek truth. To fight for injustice. To do unto others as we would wish upon ourselves. It seems really simple. And very Christ-like in nature.
My advocacy for Raye Smith began quietly - questioning the series of events that led to the murder of her daughter and later her conviction. Believe me, I have read more than I have ever wanted to on this case for one lifetime. The only thing worse than reading it would be living it, as the Smith (not by choice) and Briggs (by choice) families do to this day. 
Because my decision is to fight the conviction that has led to the imprisonment of Ms. Smith, I have been met with a lot of angst. Fear. Cyber bullying. People who would rather turn away than face what lies in front of them. In my view, if I chose not to speak, then a woman innocent  of her conviction spends the better part of the useful years of her life in prison. And that makes me culpable in some sort of strange way related to humanity. Raye sits locked up every day no doubt feeling shame, fear, sorrow and great pain. Alone. Isolated. Is this right when someone else murdered and abused her child? Is this right when she did her best to seek out the cause of the abuse? I think not.
So I have chosen to rise up to the challenge. And certainly I face doors being shut over and over again that make me question my faith in humanity and my own religious teachings.
It has been an arduous journey for Raye and in it I have learned a great deal about humanity and it's need to seek a happy ending to a story no matter what the cost to any individual. We all seek justice for the innocent but at what price?
Something I find baffling is faith leaders who turn a blind eye to the very teachings of Christ they preach. Are we not to demand justice and truth as Christians? Are we not to forgive no matter how difficult it may be? Is the power of forgiveness what leads us eventually to the full redemption we seek as followers of Christ? It all has me quite baffled. If Raye can forgive the very woman who fought so hard to see her hang then why can't that woman find forgiveness for her? Who then is the person most favored in the eyes of God?
You can see it brings up some very powerful questions about faith. And our duty to our fellow man.
Walking along this road, I have picked up many honorable friends whom I believe understand the full meaning of forgiveness, patience, respect and understanding. The most notably is my friend Jody Ortiz. Jody became involved in Ms. Smith's case somewhat through the "back door" and has been thoroughly documenting everything to do with it ever since. This is no easy task because it is a case of high coverage in Oklahoma. She is watched, followed and faces character assassination everyday. Through her solid and thorough research, Jody has not aligned with popular opinion. She has researched the facts of this case endlessly and through that, has come to the same conclusion many of us have. That Raye Dawn Smith is the target of vengeance by an overzealous exmarital family (and their violent advocacy group), that she and her daughter are the current blonde gorgeous fodder for television ratings and that the financial gain is tempting beyond obvious because of the convenient circumstances of this case. I am not going to go through the facts of the Smith case but if you are interested in reading more about it, do check out the following link (RDS Website).
Ms. Ortiz has endured more that any citizen should ever have to simply for putting the truth out there for everyone to access. Should it be this way in America? I think not. She is absolutely entitled to her opinion. Not only her opinion but to state the fact. She is the victim of unending cyber bullying. Bullied for telling the truth! Not to mention that her thorough work on this case is often taken for granted by the "other side" because they have created so many falsehoods - most who advocate for the "other side" really have no idea what the truth is anymore. It is like a good political spin. The characters are so wrapped up in the drama that to have it end would be like cutting off their oxygen supply. Instant death. No more attention anymore.
I wish to salute Jody Ortiz and thank her for holding my hand through this arduous education of our American Criminal Justice system. It is fascinating and frightening all at the same time. And for the sake of Ms. Smith, I hope that as a board member of the National Coalition for Criminal Justice Reform and with the help of other bright minds fighting for the same truths that convicted their family members, we will find the answer. Please check out Jody Ortiz' blog (Jody Ortiz Blog) - she has written extensively about this case and her blog is interesting and quite informative. I read it daily.
Please pray for Ms. Smith as she awaits a hearing to determine whether she will receive an appeal she justly deserves. I know I will be with all my heart. And thank you for listening and having compassion for this person whom you do not know because you all know MY heart. Trust me - she is well worth knowing and more than worth your effort.
And one last thing - remember me mentioning the door closing on me by clergy not wishing to extend the hand of Christ in support - here is the Smith family blog. it is entitled, "Raye Dawn Smith Forgives". Appropriate don't you think? (Smith Family Blog)
I'll end with a snippet I heard on the Biography Channel Series, "I Survived."
"Forgiveness is like letting a prisoner free. And finding out that prisoner is you." A statement from Craig - a survivor of the Columbine School Shooting in 1999 that took the life of his sister Rachel. He had become angry and bitter and chose to heal through God's grace and forgive the shooters.

daddy

house of sorrow. hmmm. Interesting song that when I listen to it I travel back to being a child. Watching you so unhappy. Telling me all the things you should have told your wife. Wondering why I wasn't enough to make you happy. I mean I loved to play baseball with you. I loved to sit on your lap and watch the Ed Sullivan Show - Topo Gigio. Or Red Skelton. And as I got older - you'd watch Monty Python's Flying Circus and as me why I thought it was so funny. And we'd laugh. You were my daddy and I loved you so much. I still love you endlessly and I always will.
The time your puppy Trixie died and you sat alone in the backyard and cried for days. I was so sad for you. It was strange - you just sat in the middle of the yard in a lawn chair. You didn't speak. Nothing.
The times you would sit me on your lap and teach my how to drive - as young as 3. I thought it was pretty special. I had to learn all the directions to get home. Turns out it was to help you because you would drink too much when you'd visit Grama and I would have to tell you how to get home.
The time I drove you home from Gordie and Pam's wedding and you were so intoxicated that you made me stop the car. You threw me out of the front seat into the back. And you drove until you passed out in the middle of a red light. I remember screaming so loud. You didn't hear me. I was 17 and I hid under the front seats of the car. I fit. I was only 85 pounds - just little. And you called me names I have never forgotten. Why can't I forget them. Fuck. I hate them and they hurt.
And then the next day, when you were all better, I was your prodigy. And I was the perfect child. I obeyed all rules. I excelled at everything I did. Top marks in school. Prodigy pianist. Scholarships. I did it all. The golden girl. The adopted child who never wanted to be sent back because I never believed I was lovable. All I wanted to hear was that you were proud of me.
When you got sick, somehow I began to shift the thought of you being my father to you being a human being. Full of faults like me. Frailties. With feelings. Someone who can makes mistakes. And it turned the table on our relationship. I was always there for you. Faithfully. Every moment until you passed. And you held my hand, and felt my love. You squeezed it and I knew it was goodbye. If I could have had your last 3 years of fatherhood for your entire life with me, I think I wouldn't have had so much damage to repair. 
I am afraid of everything Daddy. It's as though you brought me up to be strong and I am failing miserably at it. No doubt you would have been ashamed when I fell apart in 96. Or maybe the "new" you would have felt great compassion. I don't know. You brought me up as your son, not your daughter. It was difficult to be weak in front of you. Was I really ever myself? Why didn't you save me from my mother? Why didn't you save yourself? 
You did everything you could to give me everything you could. You worked hard. You made sure I had a great education. I never felt I went without anything and we certainly were far from rich in every sense.
Thank you for the love you were able to give me Daddy. I always knew you loved me. I knew you held so much sorrow and pain. I knew you wanted better for yourself - you just didn't know how to find it. You were loyal to the end. And I do value that in you. Your handshake and word meant something and you never let a friend down. Never.
I think sickness was your only way out. It makes me sad to have lost you at such a young age. You were only 7 years older than my husband is now, when you died.
It would be your 84th birthday. Writing to you just helps me get my feelings out Daddy. I love you and I miss you terribly. Thank you for bringing me the poinsettia - I know it was an awful day for you. I loved your thoughtfulness. Thank you for taking care of the mouse in my house. And thank you for my first new car - for giving me my first loan knowing I would pay it back. Thank you for coming to all my events. You were always there for me. Thank you for standing up in Grade 5 when I got top marks in school and for saying, "That's my girl!". I have never forgotten that. And thanks for not drinking whenever I asked you not too. You heard me when I found the courage to speak my truth.
I know I will see you again. I do in my dreams. Be the first one there for me OK? I love you Daddy - I just wish we could have a piece of cake together. Just know I wish you the happiest birthday and I will never forget you. I don't break promises either....

sundown...

Sundown just happens to be one of my all time favorite Starbuck CD's ever. It is melodic and calm - easy listening. Jazzy. Bluesy. (I know - no such word.) It is absolutely my favorite time of day. Sexy. Totally. So turn the music on and picture this... 

The sun is almost down. You're riding in a beautiful sports car - convertible - two seater. Somewhere north of Stanley. With someone who, you know, you just can't keep your hands off of. You can smell the aroma of the outside mountain air. A hint of smoke. Green freshly cut hay on one side - the river flowing on the other. The wakes of the water glisten as the sun finishes it's dance over the rocks. And you speed in and out of the curves around the sides of the mountains, totally in control of your car. In and out the sun peaks around the corners. Becoming increasingly invisible as you round each corner. The wind is only that created by the speed of the car and your hair blows freely as you reach up to keep pulling it back. And you feel free. Totally free. And it is pure Bliss.

Don't Look Back. 

music

Alas - the beauty of music. I could never lose my ability to hear. It would be akin to shutting down the very sense that allows me to feel. To laugh, to dance, to twirl, to shed my tears, to sob in my hands, to remember special moments - moments that absolutely changed my life. And those memories, along with the song, are embedded as deep as anything I could ever feel. No - to lose my hearing - I would have to take my life. Because it really is the core of my existence and becomes more so as I get older and older.
There are the firsts and the lasts - the first time I kissed, the first time I drove my own car, the first time I nailed a difficult routine with my dance partner and won the competition, the first time I played with the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra, the first time I made love, the first time I really made love,  the first day of both my marriages, the first and finest passion I felt while sailing on a ferry between the islands in Seattle with a special someone, the first time I held my daughter, the first time I felt someone loved me truly - just thinking about these special times brings a rush of beautiful memories back and somehow validates that I have lived and loved. Felt great joy and great sorrow. That I am sensitive and compassionate. That I left a impression on all of the lives I have touched.
And then there are the songs that remind me of certain people. Just hearing them brings up emotion and memories of times since past and the fond hope of reunification. The songs of comfort when I have lost someone - or the songs that remind me of those beautiful souls I have lost to heaven for an eternity.
There are songs that remind me of my father and my mother. Of being a child. 
And for many of these songs, I can close my eyes and the tears flow freely. Allowing a peacefulness to enter that allows for calm and true relaxation.
Maybe my fondness for music and my true belief that music is therapeutic -  in a way where it can evoke things much deeper than what appears on the surface - has something to it. Don't you think you can play any song and chances are you could travel back to a time in your life where a memory of some kind comes rushing back?  With many songs I will most likely know the lyrics and can tell you where I was when I first heard it or what I was doing while it played that left a huge impression on my psyche.
So I cannot live without it. It would be much like losing my best friend. I often think how hard it will be to die not being able to hear what new music will be created by my favorite artists once I am gone. That probably sounds a bit strange, but may give you an understanding as to how powerful it has been in saving my life. It was my way to cope. It was my disassociating from the pain and reality of the difficulties of my younger years. And now it is my down comforter.
And finally - the louder some of it is - the better I feel it. I like it loud and crystal clear. Because it then resonates throughout my body - making my heart flutter. Altering my breathing. Changing my movements, albeit subtly. Shivers. And slowly I move. Inside. And sometimes out.
So know you all have a song. All of you whom I know and I love. And if I haven't nailed it yet, it is coming for you. Because if I love you - I never want to forget you.

so tell me something...

Why is it that people say that those who cause you the greatest grief are your biggest teachers? Why can't we just eliminate these people from our lives by gently telling them to kiss off? Wouldn't it be easier to skip the lesson, the angst it brings, the elevated blood pressure? I mean, really - wouldn't elimination of the stress (meaning THEM) be better for your health? Is the lesson that important?
These questions plague me whenever I get into some sort of conflict with someone I consider to be difficult. Of course, that would be my own judgment of their behavior and perhaps may be unfair. But usually, I do a check with others to see if it is only me that perceives a situation in a certain way.
There is a strong and solid part of me that gives people one - two - three - even four chances to get things right by me. And the interesting thing about this is that what offends me is often not how they treat me, but how they treat others. It doesn't matter if I know the other person or not. I simply do not understand and generally do not care for people who are selfish, self serving, egomaniacal, takers, users, etc. That is because I come from many years of being taken advantage of.
You see - I have the largest heart. A giving nature. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I am a grateful Christian mother - with a love for most everything created by God. I appreciate His gifts. I appreciate and love my friends and family. And I give people the benefit of the doubt. I tend to forgive rather than endlessly punish. I believe in the power of love and redemption. There is nothing I wouldn't do for someone I love. I believe in second chances. And I give to them freely. So in the end - when I have had enough,... when I am done - I am done.
I think the hardest thing I face in my daily challenges is feeling like I am not heard. When this occurs with an individual, it is the single largest red flag for me that the person is self involved. And as much as there is a part of me that wishes to pursue that relationship, I back away. Slowly. But I back away. 
However difficult it may be to understand my own coping mechanisms, they work. They protect me and keep me very safe. So I think for now I will continue to hold on to them. And as far as difficult people are concerned, well I think I will skip the lesson and continue on with my journey in this life. It really is hard enough as it is...

does anyone actually read this thang?

So I am blogging tonight about a precious new group of friends I have made who understand my journey to wellness. A lot of people are aware of my struggles - some more intimately than others. Most of your know that I am a closet writer - ghost writer - and this is an appropriate way for me to express my feelings. So I am blogging about it and maybe some of you - who have a new awareness to my form of expression - may find your way here and feel my gratitude. 
It has always been interesting to me how when you open a door, even when very afraid, that wonderful things walk through it. Not only people but experiences, feelings, opportunities - some good and some not so good. The not so good, for me, tends to be what comes up when I open the door to let my feelings enter. And if you know me well, I will do anything to not let the feelings in. Hence - an incredibly busy life. Locks on the doors most days.
My psychologist once told me that my childhood life felt to her like being strapped into a movie theatre chair watching German concentration camp movies over and over again. It is interesting to me how I can easily shove those feelings aside. Pretty it all up with a vase of flowers. I very easily diminish the pain and deep wounds it left on me that have taken years to heal. I still wear band-aids.
So - distracted again - I opened the door. I took a risk to find others who understand my pain. The wounds that come when you have no where to take your confusion and angst. And in walked a variety of beautiful human souls. All on journeys to wellness. To feeling complete, whole, trustworthy, loved and valued. To know they are simply enough and beautiful just as they are. All of us looking for some form of support and validation. What a tremendous gift to be surrounded by people who really feel. They really FEEL their emotions. The level of sensitivity is high. Just as mine always has been. We understand the depth and breadth of the human experience. We feel the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. And I think (and I am whispering this gently) that we are all genius in the compassion department on some level. We get it. We get what it's like to suffer. We get what it's like to feel ostracized for simply being who we are. For trying to manage our lives and our pain in unconventional ways. We have lived it. Birthed it. Tried to kill it. And now we accept it.
So to these wonderful people I say thank you with much gratitude. I feel like I have come home to something more special than I ever imagined. Your gifts to me are invaluable. And I feel blessed.