Sunday, January 16, 2022

Women of Courage, Strength and Purpose

 


This past month, I’ve been given many reasons to reflect and be grateful for those who either helped me along the path of life, or came alongside me, in their continual support of friendship and prayers.

I also want to thank those within my own family, who reached out and helped me along the way.

God bless the broken road…for some it is a difficult one.

I was inspired to write about some of the incredibly strong and unwavering spirits- an array of women who embody the true meaning of Resilience.

This blog I dedicate to All Mamie’s in this world, who have suffered and sacrificed in ways- unimaginable.

In December, I received a most beautiful, heartfelt email from a young lady in Kamloops. I had made contact with the two sisters, who I heard of through media and The Kamloops Shoebox Project.

The local chapter is headed by sisters Marisa and Taylor Bertoli – who hope the boxes can lift the spirits of women who might be going through a difficult time, or have been impacted by homelessness. - Dylana Kneeshaw

Taylor took the time to send me a wonder, kind-hearted response and share more about the project and who benefits the most.

A recent visit to their new site displays the amount given to The Kamloops Shoebox Project for Women.



Thank you Canada! $1,457,485 worth of holiday gifts & essentials were delivered this holiday season.

What impressed me the most, was the time given and consideration in Taylor’s response to me, which was greatly appreciated. 

There are several options to make a donation:

https://www.shoeboxproject.ca/ways-to-give/main#donate

The next lady of inspiration is the steadfast, women of courage~ Mamie Till-Moberly.

Mamie Till Moberly is the mother of the late Emmett Till. Mamie's courageous words and actions in how she allowed a nation into her personal grieving, her strength in witnessing what had been done to her son and the ultimate loss of Emmett, made history.

I am not going to repeat certain details of the story, as I feel it is important, for people themselves to  watch the series on television, and also do their own research as to the facts of what happened.

I will give my own opinion as this: It is unconscionable to grasp the sheer revulsion of a criminal system— bent on covering up appalling transgressions, which took place in the south, in the 50’s.

There are many shocking moments in this series, where I was struck with the sheer horror of what happened.

I leave that up to the reader to discover themselves, however there was something I will mention that I had never seen before either…in court their was a bible clearly marked:

“For Coloured People.”

For those seeking retribution for what had been done against a 14 year old boy, named Emmett Till, there would be an on-going commitment to hold those responsible, for what had taken place.

In 1955, Mamie Till was unwillingly thrust into American history. The murder of her son, Emmett, catapulted the quiet Chicago civil service employee into a lifetime of advocacy, starting with seeking justice for the death of her son. -PBS

Another unlikely hero was a young seventeen girl named Lisa McVey.

I watched the Lifetime movie called: Believe Me: The Abduction of Lisa McVey  and sat in complete awe of this girls strength and bravery.

The real survivorship of this true crime story, is the fact that what had Police and leading investigators baffled for months, because of Lisa McVey, she ended the terrifying reign of a serial killer targeting women.

What astonished me also was the way Lisa was originally unfairly treated by some of the Police; despite the incredible details and what Lisa did, in order to survive her horrible ordeal.


The ending was shocking and is an harrowing account of what a human being can endure- in the midst of crisis.

I want to end my blog on a thoughtful note by mentioning someone who I shared my birthday with and who would have been turning a 100 years old. The legendary star of “Golden Girls,” the late Betty White- who passed away at the age of 99, devoted her life as an animal rights activist. Many contributions Betty gave of her time, energy, support and funds to improving the conditions at the Los Angeles Zoo and other endangered species.

I acknowledge Betty White, as there is a kindred connection to those whose lives were saved and protected by Betty’s pioneering activism.

All these women I’ve written about have various degrees of strengths, heroism, courage and unwavering spirit. Despite some of the subject matter being difficult, I can see in these women fearlessness. A willingness to take on serious issues such as poverty, homelessness, violence against women and children, and the plight of those who cannot speak for themselves.

To me, these are the precious gifts that should not only matter on the day you were born, but also throughout the year.

I can be most grateful for women placed in my own life: Nurses, Doctors, Pharmacist, Teacher’s and helpers, Caregivers, Mothers, Aunts, Cousins, Sisters and dearest friends who have seen me through another year. To the one's whose heart I've encountered before and to those who've been a solid rock of support, I am deeply gracious for all I have received! 

As I look forward, I treasure the things that no amount of money can buy….to those fierce butterflies that take flight, never knowing where their journey may transform them too.

Thank you for bringing me to another birthday...in spite of being by myself, I feel all of you in my heart. 💖

 


 By TL Alton


Monday, January 10, 2022

Unwrapping the Shack Part 2 *Trigger Warnings

The thing about healing...is you have to go back to the shack. 

Paul continues to explain, “Going back to my own Shack, I am there to tear down the walls that years of abuse, deadly secrets, and the infusion of darkness had poisoned the interior.

In my discovery….I found…

That God never loved the façade at all…instead, He always loved the shack, complete with its devastation, complete with its shame, complete with its guilt, complete with it’s self-hatred and loathing. But it was ME and my heart. It was My Soul and God was in love in with me.

It was inside my own Shack that I have always been pursued and have always been embraced by relentless affection; the kindness and grace of God that is our Only hope in Jesus.

So often we’re waiting on someone else to change- before we’re willing to take the steps, to change ourselves.”

***

As I type Paul’s raw, honest words, I think of my mom…the cycle’s of chaos created within, her secrets, the poison released unto her children…built up over the years and I see her inner child, is shattered into a million little pieces so badly…they never came back together…yet the toxic environment of her own shack, affected the roots of her son and daughter, in ways that saw her shack implode, from the inside out.

This is when listening intently to the words Paul is sharing…he says…

“We’re each uniquely damaged and we’re each uniquely healed.”

 If I am to believe this, then the next generation- which I am part of- then there is Hope. Also, we are not to point fingers at those who are struggling themselves, but remember where we ourselves have been…

When you finally hit that rock bottom, it’s finally a place where you can stand, but it’s a devastatingly hard place to be.

***

Throughout the series, Paul references a C.S. Lewis Term: “God- The Grand Interferer.”

A God who is not content to sit back and let us continue in our misery, our lostness and our suffering, and our darkness and our blindness. But dives in with us and joins us in the middle with us, even when we can’t perceive his presence.

For me to be hearing this, coming through all I have endured, it’s like my lantern has been re-lit.

In reference to this, within my book there are several instances of light sources. There is one main character, who purchase an old lantern that doesn’t work. Again, mystery surrounds the actual lantern and later the reader is left to determine the actual purpose.

Revelations 21: 23 The city does not need the sun or moon to shine on, because the glory of God is its light, and the lamb is the city’s lamp.

***

There is a remarkable connection in the literal sense of ‘being saved,’ connected to Wm Paul Young’s mother, on the day Harold Munn was born. Paul has a marvellous way of sharing his personal stories.

Harold Munn was born in Victoria where he did his university education at UVic. He subsequently taught for three years in Malawi, East Africa with CUSO. He took his theological training at Trinity College, Toronto.

In my posts, I have purposely left all stories out, as they belong to Paul and his family, not me.  I enjoyed hearing them, despite some very painful ones. I’ve even listened to some, a few times over, as I watched “Restoring the Shack,” I discovered on Amazon Prime.

Part of Restoring The Shack, is to see the many layers deep, the novel takes the reader and quite often…the author themselves.

One discovery I did make in connection to those in need, is that Harold Munn opened his heart to them.

When homelessness is on the doorstep, you can shut the door or you make the decision to advocate, says Nestegaard Paul. “Harold chose the latter.”

RELATIONSHIP IS EVERYTHING. WE ARE DESIGNED FOR RELATIONSHIP. -Wm Paul Young

Having lived in Victoria, BC for eight years, the most blessings I received, was the years spent helping those in need. I never had to pretend I was someone I’m not, with those living on the streets, the walls came down and as we shared a sandwich or coffee together, I’ve never felt more at home than when I was in their presence.

As I continued to enjoy hearing the many stories of connection; with God at the center, I would discover another link to my story. 

My book was written in 2000 and I looked for a strong beautiful name for Christian’s mom, Jack’s wife; a woman of wisdom.  It was then I discovered the name Sophia.

In 2022, Episode 15 The Cave, Paul Young speaks of his character “Sophia,” and how the Greek word for wisdom is Sophia.

For me, as a writer, things are relational. While I don’t go looking for connections, these sharing’s are proof when parts of another creative soul find its way to you, then without a doubt it’s a God connection.

At one of the lovely places I stayed overnight, the owner, Melissa, has this beautiful artwork she created on the bedroom wall. For me and my heart, it spoke of and was reflective of my book.

The Only time you will find God in a box, is because God wants to be where we are.

That is beautiful to me...

Episode 16 and the revelation of The Trinity, spoke straight to me. After, Paul shared a harrowing story of another courageous survivor. This prompted me to recall a time when I had survived a horrific attack and the bravery it took in order for me to endure and live through it.

As the episode unfolded, I was struck with the pure truth that I hadn’t acknowledged before:

I hadn’t saved myself; God was the one who honestly saved me.

The author goes on to share…

God’s intent is to heal us…even though it is ‘AS Through Fire.’

WE need the activity of fire to expose our hearts and heals us

Fire is restorative

Fire purifies us.

God is a consuming fire. 

How often are we rich in ways that matter, than we don’t even know?

Thankful for a God that climbs into our circumstances to be with us.

***

The truth of my times of survival, I have always felt a surrounding presence. An unwavering belief that I will get through this and yet for me verbally to give up all control is like stepping out to a double edged sword- -one side dull and the other side sharp. There are parts of me that loves the danger, the risk and the other wants to play it safe, keep everything ‘inside the lines.’

Throughout my life and because of my system of tangled roots, I have made terrible choices that placed me in times of darkness. Having Bipolar and PTSD is like inviting an army of fire ants to your sandbox. You know your going to experience pain and yet it is a place of comfort to you- all you have ever known.

Paul shares about trust and control:

When you have FEAR  in your life, you can either TRUST or CONTROL.

Let go of control and joy can be a constant companion rather than an occasional acquaintance.

We only get grace one day at a time. I’m spending real grace on things that don’t exist.

So what would it cost me to let go of that CONTROL…IT’S THE RISK OF TRUST.

I have dealt with trust issues all of my life; in fact, in fifty years, there is only one relationship where I was graced with their faithfulness to me. ONLY ONE. My response? I ran as far away as I could from this person because I could not fathom, someone would remain devoted to me.

Sometimes the path for healing from fear is into the fear itself. - Wm Paul Young

I’ve written about it before- growing up having a poverty mentality. How I felt more comfortable having less, as it is my security blanket. I have shared about the guilt tied to my daughter’s untimely and tragic death.  I’ve never been able to explain it in a way, so others could understand, what it is I am wanting to convey until I heard this…

Paul shared he had an orphan heart, in that orphans don’t believe anything actually belongs to them. They’re just waiting for someone whose more worthy, to come along and take it.

There is the profound truth- the cornerstone of my broken walls of mistrust, my cycles of poverty and the feeling of being unworthy of anyone’s love.

“We don’t know there is something GOOD in us that we are worthy of being loved, we’ll be caught in a cycle of religion trying to perform our way into the approval and affection of God.”

I’ve spent most of my life, scared of the woman who brought me into this world. As I watched this series, I wondered if I had ever told her that I thought she was a good woman? While I lamented over never being told, “I am proud of you,” I was stopped in my tracks, if ever I had said the very same to her? When was the last time, my mom had ever heard those words or when last had she been blessed with the title of motherhood?

“I’m furious at the things that are wrong and keep people locked into bondage that are hurting them.”-Wm Paul Young

When we grow up absent of  ‘proper parenting’, we grow up absent of feelings, emotions and characteristics that makes us all unique. I knew I was stupid, lazy, no good for and useless…never did I believe I was worthy, loved, accepted and wanted. Yet, I have a strong sense that neither did my mother.

On the back cover of my novel, I chose to have a snapshot of me at age four and my late, beloved, daughter Shayla, at age two. For me and for her, it was a time where life seemed frozen in a time filled with joy…before my life was impacted by abuse as a little girl for the first but not the last time. The photo is also prior to me nearly dying in a car accident at the age of four, on a highway outside of Edmonton, Alberta.

My daughter Shayla and the picture of her at two years old- was taken at a friends house- 19 years before her life would be tragically taken in a car crash.

These were moments in time, where we understood what happiness felt like.

In my candid honesty, I didn’t want some fake photo of me smiling- while choking on hidden secrets.

I also wanted two photographs - connecting my inner child with hers.

In an interview with Maria Shriver, Wm. Paul Young says:

“It took me a whole life to become a child.”  

I knew in an instant what that meant.

I’ve been trying to spend my whole life reclaiming my past childhood- the one where I was properly loved within the mind of my imagination- where I was properly wanted, nurtured and had proper boundaries.

MOST OF OUR HURT COMES FROM RELATIONSHIPS AND MOST OF OUR HEALING COMES FROM RELATIONSHIPS -Wm Paul Young

Some people think me being a Christian, life is easy. At least those who don’t truly know me. They believe I am galloping through a field of wildflowers and saying, 'God, can you please take this from me,' and it just all falls in place...much like a rainbow- landing perfectly from the sky- unto it's pot o' gold. 

Truth is….I've been in a tug o' war with God, my whole life! The reality is I am that wounded little girl at the playground, who gathers all the sandbox toys together and will not share- for fear of never having anything given back in return. I hold on so tight, that each toys sharp edges is poking into me, causing me pain… but Still…I will not let go.

God is present, not in a way to coerce of control, God is present to be with us in the midst of what we and others have brought to the table.

Just as my trust issues have caused me a multitude of heartache, so has the death of my child.  In the first decade since Shayla died, I did more positive things with my grief that I could imagine. I participated in a six month bereavement course through Hospice, I received personal one on one counselling,  I became a facilitator of GriefShare, a faith based course, to help others, I released my daughter’s ashes into the ocean, on the Island of Maui. Part of my ‘healing’ was to ensure safety changes were and did take place where Shayla died. I started a Pebble Movement and was the one to dedicate her memorial bench. I even read my bible more and I felt closer to God, more than I ever had. There were no instances of displacement, no living out of vehicles and no serious health issues. Then…the damn broke and I was carried away with all the debris of my life.

Loss doesn’t make any sense…

Inside those losses are times where we learn about community, and we learn about each other, we invite people in to places, maybe we haven’t before.

Years ago, I sat in a movie theatre watching “The Shack,” beside two people. I didn’t know them or that it had been filmed in the Southern region of British Columbia. I openly wept, given the tragic loss of a child, was the main theme.

Paul speaks of when we receive nudges: “So, I just got the nudge and those of you who have been walking in a relationship with Jesus, for a long time and learned how to listen to the Holy Spirit, speaking in your language, you know the concept of the nudge. You just get a nudge. It happens in the normalcy of your life. In the ordinariness of everyday and its like that’s a good idea.”

After the movie ended and through my salty tears, sprinkled onto my butter popcorn, I decided it was a good idea to share with the theatre goers beside me…

I said, “I couldn’t help it, but throughout the movie, I expressed my grief, heartache and a sense of unexpected joy. It was such a mixed feeling of emotions, as my only child passed away.”

 The two people sitting next to me smiled and seemed content with my words. The one lady replied, “It was good of you to share, as that means a lot to the both of us…for each of us was on the set of “The Shack.”

“Coincidence has a name…that is GOD is involved in the details of our lives.”

***

There is a beautiful scene in another film, called “Antwone Fisher.” One so powerful, where upon first watching it, I had to shut the movie off and have a good, ugly cry. It was back when I had little or no connection to my extended family. Since then, I have watched the heartbreaking/ inspiring story and been able to sit with my Joy in what it means to have family that cares…that loves me…even those parts of my own shack that I have tried to keep hidden.  To understand deeper connection, I want to share the scene I am speaking of. Antwone Fisher arrives to a house and not just any house…inside are all of his loving relatives, welcoming him to a beautiful feast, a banquet put on, just for him. Everyone is smiling, reaching out with hugs and the love he has hungered for, all of his life. I cry at this heartwarming scene, as I can imagine how beautiful it would feel to be welcomed like that. I also envision the very same kind of welcoming, one where I see my brother also happy, stripped of his imperfections and waiting to hug his little sister, with love…nothing but the pure kind of love that we spent years in search of... within our own worn down shacks.

When the darkness and the lies are inside and kept inside the imprisonment of our own hearts, THEY ARE HUGE. When we let them out…THEY LOSE THEIR POWER. -Wm Paul Young

The series, “Restoring the Shack,” has impacted me at a pivotal time in my life. I have been able to unpack a lot of unfinished baggage and honestly address the major issues in my life. While funds ended abruptly last year, no one is more responsible for where I am at, than myself.

Just as I had danced my way back into darkness, I understand the fragments in me are of my undoing.

Something I have been very blessed to received is grace…many times over and as I look back on this past Christmas, there were many new angels that stepped up, to help me through, for which I am deeply grateful for.

GRATITUDE… WE HAVE SO MUCH TO BE THANKFUL FOR! Take the time to be Thankful for people, circumstances and write them down…even better…TELL THEM. -Wm Paul Young

Yet, as I watched this series, it occurred to me that I have been relying on the human form of angels and not entirely upon my faith. I need to remember that…”God is In the details.”

I have prayed over this many times from the warm comforts of my temporary shelter and finally, I had a my answer! Faith is about having true assurance that what is ahead, I need to wholly give it to God! I cannot have one foot in the sandbox and the other one out- ready to bolt and take hold of whoever will help me. I have spoken to an Intake worker and been given the details of assistance. Yet, what’s important is for me to fully trust in God, to be the one who rescues me. To turn to the bible, I have spent two decades studying and search for the answers I need, among the 1,551 pages I’ve read.

I am unsure what lays ahead, yet some decisions have been made as to the need to control....be given up, no matter the outcome.

With my upcoming birthday, I’ve had some friends reach out and ask me what do I need?

A PRAYER IS AN OPEN CONVERSATION WITH GOD

I took the time in prayer and replied back: “I don’t need anything, but what I would like is if any of you are not Organ Donors…please take the time to sign up. I did and if anything could ever be viable for someone else, then the gift of life is all I ask you to do.”

Also, I am making a declaration in this post so that everyone knows where I stand. It is one Wm. Paul Young made himself, with his wife and children.

I KNOW that you Love me, you care for me and want to see me thrive…but Please, I ask under ANY circumstances, you do NOT Rescue me from this…

***

When you learn to live without expectations, there’s always surprises right around the corner.

This is a God who cares for us, involved in the details….the stories….we get the privilege of unravelling the tapestry of the stories, how we’re all interrelated.

I think we are surrounded by the miraculous, and yet, we are oblivious most of the time. We live our lives in prison; prisons of our own making, prisons that other people have built for us, and sometimes those prisons become our identity.  That is, they become precious to us. Our fears, our hurts, our losses, the abuse, we begin to identify themselves to us. A lot of times the prison door is left unlocked, and we don’t want to leave. So here is the question Paul asks us to think about:

How much of your life do you live inside the hurt and the losses of your history; inside what other people have done to you, inside your own suffering?

Has it become an identity to you…and what would it cost you… to walk out? - Wm. Paul Young

 


By TL Alton

Sunday, January 9, 2022

Unwrapping The SHACK Part 1 * Trigger Warnings

 


All of us come with a house on the inside that people helped us build. Some of us , we bring a shack and then we can’t help but involve other people in our losses. It seems safer to fake our way and keep trying, but if at some point we don’t go back into the shack and let somebody in there, we’re just going to keep retching our poison on everyone around us; especially the people we love the most. ~ Wm. Paul Young

Prior to Christmas, my sister in law Mara sent me a text with a simple message: 

Had I seen “The Shack?”

The answer was yes, many years ago…but up until recently, I did not see the direct correlation to my life- with the exception of the loss of a child.

What Mara did not know was that a door had been re-opened to a place within me, to my past experiences and to my current situation of displacement. She could not have known that I would find a series on Amazon called Restoring The Shack, with the author Wm. Paul Young delving deeper into the fissures of his own fractured life, his guarded secrets and ugly truths.

Ever since “The Shack,” was released in many forms out into the world, there have been an endless stream of God incidences- where timing, setting and circumstances all fell into place- to create a ripple connection to “The Shack.” Mine included.

“The Shack post is about me coming to terms with my own ghosts and releasing my hold onto Angels, which are needed elsewhere.

Knowing what I do now, I have come to a place of understanding and acceptance. Where my own book, “Under the Sitka Tree,” has more in common with Wm. Paul Young, than people realize…this includes myself.

In my own novel, there are things that are not what at first they appear to be and that is on purpose.

From an injured bird to a treehouse and the Sitka Spruce itself, reader’s are taken on a self- discovery voyage of themselves. Each thing represents something bigger and speaks to the light or darkness inside ourselves.

Born William Paul Young, in Grande Prairie, Alberta, Paul’s life would be on a trajectory course that saw his pain collide with his addictions, childhood abuse and loss of self-worth.

Paul say’s, “We have to find a way to let someone into that space of sadness. We’re designed to be in community. We’ve never been designed to be alone. We have to begin by taking the risk of telling the truth, of speaking things that are real, of going back into our histories, and into our shacks and talking about our great sadness.

Its hard to apprehend God, to comprehend God, especially not directly. A lot of times we’ve tried to do it with our minds and rationality. It’s not that this is mindless, but the best way to comprehend the character and nature of God is through metaphor and story. It meets us as a whole person.

 This is the metaphor of The Shack. Our parents impact our theology. Our theology then re-parents us. The ripples of their choices and our interaction with them, continue.

And it becomes the place where we then hide all of our addictions, and we store all of our secrets. A place, where we never want to invite another human being into our space, because we are terrified that they are going to hate us the way, we already do…

The shack is the house on the inside that people help you build, and some of you, you got good help! You had parents who were present and wanted to Love you and did, who wanted to encourage you and did. Who affirmed you. So some of the inside house, for some of us are habitable places.

But for a lot of us, its just a shack and that shack is the house that is our Soul, it is our Heart and for some of us…it’s broken.

Our parents had a huge impact on us, either because of their presence or because of their absence. Those of us who grew up orphans or who grew up losing a parent early, or with abusive parents, were greatly impacted by them.”

I experienced two of these, in the form of traumas. 

.***

STORY.

Everyone has one.

Actually everybody IS one and every story matters. -Wm. Paul Young, “Restoring the Shack.”

***

So let me now share the metaphor of my book, Under the Sitka Tree and some of my own story…

The Sitka represents shelter, a safe refuge, where friendships grow, and secrets are shared. The tree is an anchor. A connection to the roots of those who immigration journeys, find them in a community that thrives on acceptance, love and family values. The Sitka is a beacon of hope in the shadows, when others feel all is lost; a haven where broken hearts are mended, and forgiveness can be found.

Peel back the layers of bark and then you will discover the simple truth- the Sitka is the cross that you carry; a place where your wounds are on display and all your burdens are laid to rest.

Each of us bares the weight that the enemy has burdened us with. For me, at the beginning Sitka was my daughter, her ‘good heart’ shining through. Then in December 2011, when she was trapped under a frozen reservoir and passed away, the shame began to eat away at the dry rot of my shack.

Back then, Sitka was still an unfulfilled promise and thus began a cycle of poverty, tied to my guilt of not being able to save my daughter’s life. My self-worth anchored to my remorse; I had brought darkness to my story.

In reading my novel, everything that happens at the tree is symbolic and has the elements of my faith journey, intertwined with its roots.

What became of my repeated history, is tied into a legacy of dysfunction, turmoil, and the inability to let go.

***

Growing up, my mother always terrified me, and I could not understand why I felt I was the source of her rage and unhappiness. Her birth name meant ‘woman of sorrows’ and I believe she felt it was a curse. Later in her life, she literally removed and changed her first and middle name. I believe she too felt her connections to the darkness, had followed throughout her life.

 I was raised believing that behind her emptiness, there was a mark upon me that would lead to a lifetime of my own pain and suffering. That try as I might, to get through to her tough, thickened exterior- someone else or many- had come along and crushed every bit of human emotion, from her.

I grew up, never knowing how to accept a compliment or how later in life to welcome the words shared by others:

“I am proud of you!”

What my childhood taught me was endless ways to hide my real feelings, I learned to endure at the hands of my stepfather, many beatings and sexual abuse, where after time…I had mastered not to exude a single tear. This only incited him further and there were many days, I would go to school covered in an itchy turtleneck and long slacks, to cover the colours of purple, greens and blues that were a roadmap of abuse- imprinted upon my 7 year old body.

In Under the Sitka Tree, I wrote from a place of anguish and with such intent that I wanted to shine a light upon domestic and childhood abuse. The lurid topics, no one is comfortable, in openly sharing.

“There is NOTHING that destroys or dismantles the Soul of a human being like sexual abuse.  

What happens is as in my case and many others, you build a façade around who you really are, because the truth is, you feel so far gone that you don’t really understand who it is that your suppose to be? You learn to adapt, to change to various people’s expectations…all the while looking back in the mirror is a stranger, staring back at you.

We are as sick as the secrets we keep.” -Wm. Paul Young

In the original storyline of Sitka, one of the main character’s experiences trauma, in addition to being witness to her mother’s own victim of domestic abuse. Attending a well known Writer’s Conference, one publisher said dryly that he was alarmed at the degree of violence against both mother and child.

I flatly replied, “In the time it took you to read that short passage, that ‘degree of violence,’ is actual reality for 1 in 3 woman and millions of children, worldwide.”

In writing these two parts of my first blog of 2022 and without a dear friend knowing what it is I was working on, she emailed me about an organization, in Victoria, BC called “Wear2Start.” 

This is a place where women fleeing domestic violence, sexual abuse, are newly immigrated, and can re-integrate back into the work force, by receiving clothes for upcoming interviews, courses and appointments.

In operation since the early 2000's, Wear2Start is a non-profit society run entirely by volunteers. They help women referred by agencies that provide educational, job training, re-training and job preparation programs who then require a work wardrobe.

I watched the 4.5 minute short video, whose heartfelt story of one of its key founders and first president, is Kathleen McMullin. I am including the YouTube link. This is their story.

https://youtu.be/hJZkgLBOnpA

I want to shed some light on something that is directly connected to myself and also my mother.

“Part of the devastation of sexual abuse is that it absolutely destroys your inside boundaries.”-Wm. Paul Young.

When I first began fleshing out the characters of Sitka, the young girl was meant to have been a survivor of sexual abuse. I recall one day, as I began to write the chapter where violence and mayhem unfolds, my hand began to tremble. At first, I thought it was from my nerves and revisiting past traumatic experiences. Then a feeling- as if there was a fire burning strong within, overcame me- it was then I realized the power I had inside my pen.

I felt a surge of bravery coursing throughout me, and it was then I understood that my character- while yes, there would be a traumatic event, this little girl would not be a victim of sexual abuse. While she was a survivor of a harrowing ordeal, I wanted the character to have unwavering boundaries- a stronghold that I never had in my own life.

So, instead of having chapters filled with the painful subject matter, I focussed on what it was like to see bruises cover my own mother’s body. The time, I saw her in the bathtub, nude and shivering with the black and blue imprints of a fist, covering her whole. In her trembling hand, a glass filled with the brim of whiskey.

As I write this, that glass has never left her hand, as my mother doesn’t drink for enjoyment, no-she drinks to obliterate a past that clings upon her skin- like a rapid dog, bent on never letting go.

Every time, I sat down to work on my book, that image was seared in my mind and while the one character in my book is not solely based on my mother, the violence she endures is.

One other thing that was important to me in my writing, was to share the thread of multiple losses- what it’s like to have the man you believed to be the only true father figure in your life- to be taken away, at an early age.

My father Ronald Hancheruk, was someone who battled his own demons and I only have few memories that didn’t involve alcohol. However, there was a feeling of being loved by him.

So much of his ‘walking out of my life,’ left me with such abandonment and rejection issues that I carry them to this day. At age 41 (when I was 17 years old), and right before Christmas, my father died of Cancer.

Years later, my daughter would pass away at 21. The raw grips of bereavement saw my dad pass on December 16th, 1988 and my daughter die on December 12th, 2011.

I never knew my father was dying and therefore as a consequence; there was no goodbye’s.

Later, as I continued to work on my book, “Under the Sitka Tree,” I would weave a thread of grief for Skylar Reigh Falls, to her own father’s early demise. For I felt there was unfinished work in my shack that needed to be re-visited.

As I watched the series on “Restoring the Shack,” my heart was resonating with the beautiful truth of how it all came together. For when people pick up a book, they do not see the labour of love, the rejections, the healing that goes into a work of fiction or non-fiction.

The Opposite of more is enough -Wm Paul Young

Paul wrote the story on a train bound to one of his three jobs. His wife Kim had encouraged Paul to write it as a gift for his children, since they didn’t have lots to give for Christmas. He went to office depot and had 15 copies of “the Shack” made and to be given as gifts.

It was soon shared to friends and so on.

When it was actually sent to 26 various publishers…it was REJECTED 26 times!

Wayne Jacobsen and Brad Cummings had a Podcast that went to 150 Countries, 45 minutes a week.

Overtime, it went from a Christmas gift from a father to his children, to 33,000 in 30 days and the publishers who had turned Paul down, were now interested in his book.

He received a call from Barnes and Noble, who said, “Normally, we charge a lot of money for a publisher to put their books at the front of our stores nationwide. It’s called placement. Would you consider allowing us to do this for you for three months….FOR FREE.”

In the first 13 months from May 2007- June 2008, 1.1 Million copies of The Shack, was shipped.

There is more to the extraordinary story and when I watched the series and the truth unfolded, by Paul’s owns words, I sat in awe of how a gift for his children, has sent ripples out into the world and into my own life.

 During one of my three times of displacements, I recall, one night listening to PRAISE 106.5 FM. The hosts were airing a story that was shared by Wm. Paul Young related to “The Shack.” Despite the cold winter night and darkened, lonely road I was travelling on, I became so intrigued by this story that I pulled over, next to a frozen pond. In my car, I blasted the heat and sat back in wonder over yet another amazing connection to Paul’s book. Again, I am not going to relay the story, yet will say it was connected to loss of a daughter and a picnic table that led to something far bigger, showing that God, is indeed in the details.

***

Fast forward to 2022, and I am in a place of shelter; provided by someone whose love for me, has seen ripples of her own kind heart, gift many blessings.

This is a humble woman, who was there for me in all three of my times of displacements (amongst many others) and I know within my soul, I would not be alive, had I remained sick in my car- when the latest cold snap happened. For the device I had placed on my heart in August, does not do well in the chilling temperatures. 

If I found myself in Alberta or anywhere north, God only knows what would happen? 

My recent connection to "Restoring the Shack," came because of the tender heart of Mara, asking me a simple question. We also share in the journey and sudden loss of our children. Her grief wraps around her daily, as reminders of the immeasurable loss of her son Matt, which lead me to the series that I did not know existed before. 

I have another thing in common with Wm. Paul Young. We both like questions. I also love research and seeing how one small thread, can weave a tapestry of relevance and understanding.

It was what connected me to another place of evidence that God is in the details.


Last night, I was in the midst of the series, where the next Episode 13 is titled: 

Coincidence Has a Name.”

In my room, I am warm, content and thanking God for another day. As I await a follow-up call from an Intake Worker, my days here are limited. Therefore, I am using this time to reflect, to learn, to forgive myself and heal from all things that the past 50 years has been dragged along, in my life.

I know- like a rapid weight loss/ detox, I am unravelling and immersing myself into a type of self-care, I've not experienced before. One where I have a definite understanding that me - in control- has never flourished into anything good. 

Settling into watch the next episode, within the first few minutes of Paul’s re-telling, I know that he is speaking of the story I heard years ago, during my first displacement and living in my car. 

Thinking back to that winter night, when I pulled over beside a frozen pond and turned up my radio...the notion that a couple had been brought to a specific place, all due to them wanting a picnic, re-instilled in me, God is so good. Listening to PRAISE 106.5 FM, a Christian station, licensed out of Lynden, Washington, I heard the story about a couple, struggling with loss. 

I felt the tears flow, as they shared their own story connection to “The Shack.”

What happened, as I wrote my first part to my blog, was I had my earphones on listening to Paul, and typing away my own thoughts. I was relaying the story above, when suddenly on my laptop screen, Paul begins to share the very same story on, "Restoring the Shack." 

As I write, I realize there is so much more to the Wm. Paul Young’s stories, his words and the series that has to be told.

Going back and forth in comparison of both novels, lives and the heartaches of both Paul and myself, my book has the very same thread as of Paul’s. In that our stories are two-layers: one is the fictional world created to mask the reality of the writer’s world and the other layer, reflects on our personal relationship with God.

I will be sharing more in Part 2, as there is more to coincidence has a name.

With every exceptional story, ever turned into a movie, there is a soundtrack. The first time I heard the American Christian Rock Band Skillet, was when I fell in love with their song “ANCHOR”.  I bought the CD and when my little red car had the stereo system working, I had their CD on replay for every road trip. The song is not heard in the actual movie, rather on the soundtrack of “The Shack.”



Skillet -“Stars” (The Shack Version) [Official Music Video]

https://youtu.be/NtzrLpxM298

 

By TL Alton