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photo credit: waterarchives via photopin cc

photo credit: waterarchives via photopin cc

What happens right before a dam breaks?

What is the catalyst that causes what was once naturally flowing water to unleash itself?

Does the river resent being stuffed and shaped into a body that it wasn’t meant to be?

Years of pressure pushing on the dam’s surface. Gazillions of water molecules banging their heads against something that God didn’t place there. It’s beyond me how all dams don’t break.

Some (most?) may call a dam breaking faulty or failed engineering. Residents down stream, I’m guessing, would call it a disaster. While environmentalists might feel badly for decimated towns, likely they would contend that a dam break is nature is restoring itself.

I’m no engineer. But I can relate to the river, because I know what it feels like to be dammed up.

I’m no engineering failure. But I know what it feels like to buckle under intense pressure, and unleash pent-up rage.

It’s that split second (or that slowly degrading process), though, that I cannot describe. The moment that the held transitions into release.

How does that come about?

If I could answer that, then I could create a clear formula for breaking the Mama Taboo.

Follow these 10 easy steps to break free of your emotional prison, speak honestly about your mother wound, heal, and renew your relationships with yourself, your mother, and your children!

But, there is no formula. It’s a mystery.

I liken it to the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter Sunday when we have no idea what went on. (I suppose the facts are between God and Jesus, and probably Satan, too, according to the Apostle’s Creed.) What happened to bring Jesus from being dead to being alive? How did Jesus feel, physically and emotionally? Was the war that waged between sin and salvation, between life and death, between grace and damnation ontologically colossal? Or was it somehow contained within Jesus’ body? Or both?

At least we know how it turned out. As we say to greet one another on Easter morning, “Christ is risen! The Lord is risen, indeed!”

A physical threat of eruption drove me to my church’s sanctuary. Something was internally stirring. I felt I might explode at any second. I picked a pew that had a box of tissues, and sat down. I didn’t know why God brought me there, and I knew there was nowhere else I could be.

Prayers and meditation restless and distracted, I rose to walk. Sometimes walking prayers calm me, the feeling of my feet touching the surface beneath me connecting me to sacred ground and its Creator. Soon it’s not enough that only my feet are there.

My legs collapsed as if someone withdrew their strength, and I found myself on all fours. That wouldn’t do, either, I quickly discerned.

photo credit: superfem via photopin cc

photo credit: superfem via photopin cc

It was as if something overcame me, and I couldn’t contain it. A possession that my spirit wouldn’t tolerate.

Out it had to come.



On my knees, face down, prostrate, wailing in the fetal position.

What was flushing out of me?

No matter.

I needed to cry, and so I did.

Weeks, months would go by until I began to grasp what happened to me.

It remains a mystery. But, at least I know the outcome — sort of. I grasped only the larger picture at first. Specifics would come in time.

What I did know was that I could no longer function the way that I had been — struggling not to prevail, but to strangle myself with silence. The war that waged within my soul was killing me.

Is it worth dying for? the Spirit whispered.

“No,” I answered out loud. “No, it is not.”

Then you must follow where I take you. Recognize, acknowledge, face, feel, grieve, and when the times come, speak. And then you will be free. 

That was the day that God broke the Mama Taboo’s power over me.

It hurt like hell, but now unlocked was my emotional prison cell.

“Blogging my book idea” is series of posts. Only God knows how long it will last, and how the posts that emerge will relate to one another. I invite you to engage with me, and walk the path to publishing with me. My guess is that the book, whose ultimate purpose is to serve God’s plan by touching readers, will be that much stronger because of your input. Click on the dates below to read previous posts in the series.

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