Guest post by Elizabeth Walker, author of The Tablet of My Heart
Have you ever been camping over a weekend where all it did was rain? It rained while you were setting up, rained while you were trying to light a fire, trying to cook, rain, rain, rain? At first you just figure you’ll tough it out. You try to keep dry. You hang out under the cover of the tarp that you fashioned into a canopy so that you could still be near the fire and soak in the beautiful scenery. You repeatedly adjust your position to battle the shifting wind, but after a while the rain wins and you end up soaked. The cold rain has seeped into your cloths and is resting on your skin making you cold right down to your bones. Nothing looks beautiful anymore. Finally, sick of being cold and wet you do something to change it. You go into the safety of the tent, pull your sticky wet clothes from your cold, red skin. You curl up in your sleeping bag and listen, while the rain assaults your flimsy tent, for a break in the storm so you can pack up, salvage what you can and move to dry ground.
That is sort of what I did. I got tired of getting hammered by the storm. I got tired of sitting in my cold wet clothes, waiting for the sun to come and dry me off and make me warm again. I decided that, maybe it was time to go looking for the sun instead of waiting for it to come to me. I suppose that’s how it happened. The behaviors I had adopted certainly weren’t changing my situation. The rain would come; I would run for shelter until the storm passed. Then I would exit my shelter and while I wasted time counting my losses, without fail, another rain would come. One day I decided to stop counting my losses and start preventing them, so I headed for dry land. In Plain English; What I was doing in order to make myself feel whole after loss and abuse, was not getting me anywhere – drugs, promiscuity, excessive alcohol. I didn’t feel any better. With time, after walking away from the vices that were drowning me, I found strength in my freedom. I found my sunshine. I re- wrote my life script by changing the setting and taking responsibility for moving myself out of the circumstances that kept wetting me down. Lucky me…I like this script far better. The Tablet of My Heart is an illustration of that transformation. Being a former victim means that my victimization no longer defines me – my will to fight defines me, instead.
About the book
The world turns upside down for a young girl when her father begins a fatal battle with the merciless affliction cancer. Before his illness finishes it’s devastating rampage through her adolescence, she is confronted by a new demon. She falls victim, by the hands of a trusted adult, to sexual abuse. The devastation of these events causes her to question God’s roll in her life, and whether He ever loved her at all. The Tablet of My Heart is a collection of Poetry from the journal of that young girl. It is narrated by the author of the journal herself, who paints a portrait of words illustrating her emotional journey from hopelessness to healing. It is dedicated to victims of abuse; to bring to them the realization of hope that there is a light at the end of the silence.
Elizabeth Walker's website: www.tabletofmyheart.net.