19 dollar Crockpot

Recently I broke one of my old crockpots, so my son dutifully went to Wal-Mart and photographed with his phone the three choices. The first was a sweet black model with cool buttons and digital displays...I immediately wanted it, though it was, of course, the most expensive at $49. The second was chrome with a "warmer" option and locking devices on the lid, all for the reasonable price of $29...Jeff liked it better. Finally, in third place was a plain ole crockpot, looking suspiciously like my old crockpot...for, yep, you guessed it, $19. Sadly, Jeff likes this one the best. We have not resolved this difference looming between us. I'm pushing the $49 model, hoping we'll "compromise" with the $29 one; strangely, Jeff is now saying he thinks the old one is fine with a minor crack in it's crock. Obviously, he's hoping I'll give up the fight and resign myself to the $19 one.
What, you my be thinking, has this got to do with pain and suffering? More than you realize. You see, when I was a young woman...I had an easy life. I was a "pretty girl" with plenty of dates, an education, some talent, a solid family and a great circle of friends. One day, I married my soul-mate, had two fine sons and enjoyed a very satisfying career. I was definitely a $49 crockpot with all the bells and whistles. Fast forward to the age of 39 and a diagnosis of cancer; suddenly, emotional pain, with a threat of serious physical pain, was an uninvited aspect of my golden life. Trouble had come with a capital "C"! I had been down-graded; I was a $29 crockpot...nice, but not anything special! Now, a decade later, I'm clawing to remain a $19 crockpot. You see, my fortieth year was catastrophic...a non- stopping spiral of many physical issues with a very dismal outlook. I am most certainly headed for the cracked crockpot category; in fact, I probably am already there. I don't even remotely resemble the $49 model I used to be...I'm ready for the yard sale.
But, I have to say, my cracked crockpot still works fine; the damage is all exterior, just like me. In fact ,due to a loving, gracious Father, I am learning to put my treasure where it won't decay...learning not to waste my sorrows but let them be tools that God uses to beautify me spiritually...the only eternal part of me! Now, having all of the outward bells and whistles doesn't even appeal to me anymore. They really have no true value...and, come to think of it, I think I will just keep my cracked crockpot...it works just fine! In fact, it bears the "scars" of "suffering"...just like me!
How about it? Are you wasting your sorrows? Or are the battlescars really the proud medals of hard won spiritual lessons? It's your choice, so choose wisely! The outcome of this choice will meet you in eternity either way!

Abused

I heard a very sobering statistic several weeks ago. According to recent and reliable sources, it is estimated that 4 out of 10 girls and 6 out of 10 boys are sexually abused!! So many, many damaged hearts! And since I am part of that statistic, I thought I'd share a little of my story and some thoughts about the resulting damage because, obviously, so many of you will be able to relate to me. Typically, I was first victimized by a relative at the age of 5. Now, I have discovered that this man abused many of the children in his family, and because I lived out of state, my rate of abuse was very low compared to the shocking abuse borne my those living in the same town! It is very disturbing to realize a vast evil lived in my family and went totally unchecked, wreaking havoc in the lives of several of my cousins, and to a lesser extent, my own. Ten years later, I was molested by a naval doctor! I still vividly recall the doctor ordering a very rattled nurse (I had no clue why she seemed so upset and did everything short of defying a superior officer to remain in the room with me) out of the exam room, turning off the lights, snapping the blinds shut and barking to me to, "Strip!". The assault stopped only when he discovered I was a 15 year old virgin. My nurse must have been hovering outside my door, because she was by my side immediately after he left, trying to comfort me and dry my tears. My mother was extremely upset to see me so tearful, but I had absolutely no idea how to tell her what had happened to me because I didn't know! This was 1970...well before the era of Oprah. No one had ever heard of being assaulted by a doctor! Months later I was date-raped by a "friend" who was giving me a ride home after a church activity!! Well, you get the picture, all though that is not even close to the end of my story, but it is enough, hopefully, to give some credibility to my observations.
By now, we all know about sexual abuse, but we still never talk about it! It is still a taboo and still leaves a great deal of shame in it's wake. I know many women; have taught women's Sunday school classes, home Bible studies and years of high school, and can count on my hands the resulting conversations about this issue, in spite of sharing my experiences and offering to listen to anyone, any time. This makes me very sad because I have taught, in one way or another, about 700 women!!! Statistically, that represents almost 200 abuse victims!!! We simply are NOT talking about it and I know it is eating most of us up inside and is contributing to all kinds of relationship issues, migraines, gastro issues, depression and many other chronic problems!!
Finally, I want to hold out HOPE. There is a God in Heaven, and He sees all things and there will be righteous and severe judgment in eternity! Also, this same avenging God, who despises evil, is able to heal the wounds from the abuse! He alone can offer true comfort, peace and a profound sense of safety and security... Someone to absolutely trust, a thing many of us victims find difficult to do. Call upon Him, and let Him show you great and amazing avenues of healing...the kind of complete healing ONLY God could give! Believe me...I know.