I started blogging back in 2004 because I had a lot of "demons" to exorcize. My bipolar was out of control. I was suicidal more often than not. My relationships were non-existent because I wouldn't let people get close to me. Because of my experience on the mission field I didn't trust leaders and I didn't trust Christians not to screw me over and kick me when I was down. I was battling an addiction to porn and sexual immorality that I believed was rooted in early exposure to my stepfather's porn and possible sexual molestation by a sibling. I had lots of rage and nowhere to go with it except to consider killing myself. My life seemed to fall so far short of what I thought a "good Christian" should be. I was angry at God for not changing me. I was angry at me for not changing. I was angry at the world for not understanding me.

Yet as a teacher, I was that barren woman with lots of children... but I couldn't see anything to sing about because my life seemed so out of control. Coming back to Hawaii was supposed to be like coming full circle. I thought things were going to get better. I thought God was going to sweep in and finally make good on all the debts he owed me. How full of it was I? Some might say that it served me right that the last two years in Hawaii were a nightmare. God didn't "owe" me anything. Instead, he forced me to face the very darkness of me and I couldn't cope. When a Christian friend committed suicide, I came very close to abandoning my own faith all together. And yet something in me willed me to persevere.

I kept seeking God even though my faith was riddled with holes. I seemed to have more doubts than faith, but I really believe that scripture that says that God will be found by those who seek him. The relief came during my recent trip to California. I had time to read my bible uninterrupted every morning. So what if I didn't get the long walks on "my" beach like I used to take when I lived there. I had a valuable lesson about not putting God in a box. God can and will speak to me wherever he chooses. I didn't have to get on a plane and rush to that beach to hear him. The things that I believe God showed me in California prepared me, in part, for what I would face when I returned to Hawaii. He gave me vivid reminders of lessons learned so that I wouldn't forget once the glow of the trip wore off. He also called me to do some tough things... things I didn't think I had it in me to do.

One of those things was to write a letter and tell my mom about my sexual addiction and how I believe it started. I felt that the secret was stopping us from ever becoming close. I hoped that if I came to her in sincerity that she would see my heart and that we could move on. My mom's response was not what I'd hoped, but it was everything that I needed. She called me a pervert and told me not to blame the family for my problems. She attacked my Christian faith and said my prayers weren't real. She dug up incidents from years ago and slammed me. She took no responsibility for contributing to my addiction by giving me romance novels to read when I was eleven. Romance novels are softcore porn. She disagrees that they had anything to do with how I turned out. In the end she said that she loved me because I was her child... and then she severed all ties with me.

I'm never going to see my mother again in this life time.

She's old and she's ill. She's also bitter and hurt. Even if I did write to her she won't write back. She has spoken. My mom did something I could never do. She closed the door. I think for years God has wanted this door to close, but I wouldn't let it. My family is so dsyfunctional they don't even see how they are being choked by hate. There is so much darkness there and because I've pointed it out I've been labeled the problem. It was not healthy for me growing up and it's not healthy for me now but because I wanted to be a "good Christian" I kept trying to "do the right thing" whatever that was. I never would have written my mom off even though I really wanted to. I couldn't take all the stress, rejection, and anxiety that was inherent in trying to relate to her. And having my secret addiction droning on like white noise in the background of every conversation and letter we exchanged was going to make me crazy. So I wrote that letter and my mom did what I couldn't. And I am relieved. One source of my nightmares is over. Her words hurt but they didn't trigger a depressed episode.

Another thing God impressed upon me while I was in California was that I needed to step out of my comfort zone and use the gifts he gave me. Two weeks after returning to Hawaii I was asked to sing on the worship team. I was scared silly standing up there in front of the entire church... but I reminded myself that I was singing for Christ. Shortly thereafter, I wrote another letter that I felt God wanted me to write... a letter to those leaders from the missions ship. It was a letter that I couldn't have written back in 1997 when I left. I haven't heard from them, but I realize now that it doesn't matter. The fact that I could write it and I was no longer afraid or angry was enough. I also had to speak up about a current situation that needed to be addressed. Speaking IS one of my gifts and I cannot let fear or anger stop me from speaking up when the situation warrants it.

One day in the middle of all of this communicating I got an email from my pastor. He wanted me to speak at church about how God works in the body. How ironic is THAT??? He wanted Bubble Girl to speak about what God was doing in the body of believers?? I didn't even really know what to say... but after he gave his sermon I stepped on stage and the words just came. I had NO intention of saying what I said... but I knew it was a God thing. Afterwards people kept coming up to me telling me how my words had inspired or encouraged them. Other people came up to the pastor to say the same thing and emails have come into the church expressing the same sentiments.

The writer's conference is next week. My dream when I started The Adventures was to become an author and I am closer to that than I've ever been before. In 2004 when I started blogging my heart was broken... by my family and by my experience on the mission field. It has taken some direct hits since then... but God has also been restoring it. I have never felt as loved as I have this week. God has shown me that people in my church are my family. They love me more than my bio family ever did. He has shown me that people at work love me. My students adore me. The things that used to tie me up in knots and give me nightmares are gone.

Tomorrow, I'm singing on the worship team again. I've been given a solo. Yeah, me... the girl who used to sit at the back of the church and dash out without speaking to anybody. I'm not broken anymore. I am able to love. I am loved. I have eleven new students who all want to like me. And I spent the day with my former students who are devoted to me.

Home? I went home to California to learn that home was right where I was. My home isn't chained to a place. It's in people. The people who love me and the people whom I love. That is where my heart is. More importantly... that's where my home is.