Sacrifice

     When I write on this blog, trust me when I say I write about the subjects God puts in front of me.  I have a lot of fear in putting it out here, mostly because I have never wanted anyone to feel sorry for me.  I write not only because God wants me to, but because I want him to use me to help anyone I can.  I felt so alone and disconnected most of my life and if one person says to themselves, "that's how I feel" or "I get that", that is such a huge gift for me.  The instructions to write this one came with a picture.  I pray before I write and I give Him my hands.  He talks me through it.  This one's tough.

     A couple years ago, I went through a phase of watching everything I could find on WWII.  I have been diagnosed and treated for PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)  And as with alcoholics, I believe I am most comfortable with people like me.  I've always been interested in stories of survival, including war, slavery, prison, and any kind of abuse.  I find it very interesting the lengths people will go to to survive.
     I had watched a movie years ago and could not remember the title.  It was a true story about an escape from a prison camp during the holocaust.  At the end of the movie all the prisoners broke free and were running through a mine field to make it to the safety of the forest.  Many were killed, but over half survived.  I finally found the movie and have since forgotten the name again.  There were around six hundred prisoners in this camp and a few of them were planning an escape, but they decided they had to take everyone, because the head Nazi had a rule that one person would be killed for every person who escaped.  At one point during the story, I believe it was about thirteen men who tried to run and were caught.  They were brought back to camp to be killed in front of the other prisoners and they each were instructed to pick one person to die with them.  I always wonder what I would do when I watch something like this.  Who would I choose?  At first they refused, so the soldier started killing people until they agreed to follow his order.  I watched it hoping it wasn't going to happen, but it did.
     More recently, I read a book called "Tortured for Christ".  I'm terrible about remembering details, such as cities ... okay, I don't even remember what country it was, but it was about people being taken prisoner only because they were believers.  They were tortured in ways I can't even imagine surviving.  The part of the book that really struck me was when he talked about certain prisoners who would be teaching others about Christ when the guards came to take somebody for a beating.  This prisoner would stop his teaching and volunteer to take the beating in place of the person they had come for.  I wonder could I do this?  What if it were my kids?  My grand kids?  My parent's or siblings?
     While writing this I'm wondering where God's going with it and He's telling me.  When I was abused by the first person, there were two of us.  I don't have permission to share who it was, so that is all I will say.  It was more difficult and damaging to watch what was happening to her than it was to go through it myself.  I use to hide her from him and pray he wouldn't find her.  She had done nothing to deserve it and I was willing to take the pain because I loved her so much.
     Maybe this is more for me than anyone, because I have such a hard time believing God loves me.  All I can do at this point is tell you about the picture He gave me.  He is on the cross and I am safely hidden away.