Read Angie's Thoughts

Well, another year has come and gone and I’m still wondering where the time went! God has been faithful beyond anything I have deserved this past year and I have loved watching Him at work. I am teaching 2 nd grade at Trinity Lutheran School for the second year and my class consists of 5 boys. Yep, I said boys! It has been a wonderful experience, completely different from last year’s class but a great adventure in itself. They ask great questions and are always saying or doing something to keep me on my toes! I love the many opportunities I get each day to share Christ with them and bring Him into the classroom. I continue to enjoy working with my co-workers at Trinity, they have become my family over the past 5 years and it’s been such a blessing to be a part of God’s work in that school. Because of my teaching contract, I was able to take this last summer off and not work at all and boy, did I love it! Besides the daily opportunities to sleep in and be as lazy as the day would allow

In recent weeks, I have been wrestling again with God over the issue of my mom, or rather, my not having a mom. This issue tends to rear its ugly head every now and then, usually when I least expect it. It usually starts with my becoming more aware of the interactions taking place around me between moms and their children. Working at a school, I see a lot of those interactions and lately, watching them has left a familiar pang in my chest. Then comes the heaviness of heart and the tears when I lay in bed at night trying to fall asleep. Along with those tears come the familiar questions I've asked myself since I was a little girl, the biggest one being, "Why didn't she want me?" As I lay in bed last night, having cried until there were no tears left, I began thinking back over the many issues I've dealt with in my life. Between the abuse issues, the mom issues, and all the issues in between, I really have dealt with some difficult ones. What I realized is that even

Recently, I have followed the suggestions of some close friends and started to write a book about my experiences with sexual abuse and the abandonment by my mom. My first attempt at writing was this past summer, but I didn't have much success. I have a book full of poems that I wrote years ago when going to counseling and really in the middle of working through my abuse issues and my idea was to take each poem and write some background information on what I was dealing with when I wrote it. As hard as I tried, the words just weren't flowing and sitting down to write was such a struggle, so I gave up and stopped trying to force it. A few weeks ago, I was thinking again about how I wanted to use my life and my past experiences to help other people and a new idea of how to write my story came to mind. I decided just to start at the beginning and write how things happened. I started asking people close to me questions about things I didn't know or couldn't remember and just

Here are a couple of stories from school the past couple of weeks, enjoy!! *Last Friday the kindergarten teacher needed to borrow my overhead projector in the afternoon. So after I used it for my math lesson, I carried it over to the building where her classroom is. I walked holding the projector in my arms and one of the students said, "Oooh, a camera!"  Talk about a big camera!! *Today during math, I got out the play money to use during our lesson. All of my students (all 6 of them boys!) started talking about how much they love money and how wonderful it is. All of a sudden, Ridge pipes up. "You shouldn't love money," he states very matter-of-factly. Now, Ridge is one of the 'leaders' of my class and when he talks, everyone listens. "Why shouldn't we love money?" the others started asking. "Because it's like the devil," he says very pointedly. All the other boys get these strange looks on their faces and ask how money is li

This is actually a blog I've wanted to write for awhile now but never got around to it. Through recent conversations with a friend and a Bible study I'm doing with another friend, some things have come to the surface and I've decided now is as good a time to do it as any.  It's not an easy thing to put out there, it's about a part of my life that I am ashamed of and would give anything to go back and redo but since I can't, I will spill my guts about it instead! In high school, I was a mean girl. Mean is probably putting it lightly - I was a bully. When I admit that to friends now, they have a hard time believing it but it really is true. Ask any of the 17 classmates I graduated with, as well as under classmen below us and I'm sure most, if not all of them have their own stories to tell of things I said and/or things I did to them. There were a few in particular that I was especially mean to and focused most of my bullying behavior towards. I would talk abou

I wasn’t raised in an affectionate family. My dad wasn’t affectionate towards me growing up, and even today he’s not an affectionate person. I know he loves me, he shows it many other ways, but just not through physical touch. Not having a mom around didn’t help things either. Moms are traditionally known to be the more affectionate parent and that was clearly lacking in my childhood. Basically it all boils down to the fact that growing up, I was rarely touched in a way that wasn’t abusive at the hands of my grandfather. I often think back to the night I told my dad and step-mom about the abuse. After my grandparents left our house, my grandfather have just admitted that what I was accusing him of was true, my dad said I could go to bed. A little while later, he called me back up and asked me a couple questions to clarify some things I had said, and then I went back downstairs to my bedroom. I can remember feeling such a huge relief that the secret I had been keeping for the past seven

  '...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.' ~ Isaiah 61:3 This past weekend, my dad and I spent a day traveling through Yellowstone. I love the park, it is full to the hilt of God's creation and no matter where you are in the park, you're completely surrounded by His handiwork. When my dad and I got home, he was looking at the pictures I had taken with my digital camera. When he came to the picture above, he asked, "What were you taking a picture of here?" I explained to him how much I love to see places in the park that were once devastated by fire, but now green grass and beautiful wildflowers and coming up from the very place that was burned. It reminded me of this verse in the Bible, where God promises to  bring beauty from the painful, broken, and devastating experiences in our lives. It seems God has been really emphasizing this promise

"Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from Him." ~ Psalm 62:5 What message are you proclaiming? The pastor at church asked this question of the congregation yesterday and it has had me thinking ever since. What message is my life proclaiming? These days, I'm really not sure. I know what I would like my message to be but do I do a good job of living it out each day? Probably not. The truth is that Christ came to save this sinful and fallen world. That's what His entire life and ministry was about. During his 3 years of ministry, He healed the sick, caused the blind to see, the lame to walk and the deaf to hear. He fed thousands with two fish and five loaves of bread. He rose people from the dead, even Lazarus who had been dead for four whole days. He called ordinary men to be his disciples and lived out the greatest message of all - salvation through believing in Him. His greatest triumph was over the grave, when He rose three days after being crucified

Ahh, summer vacation is upon me...sleeping in, staying up late, making and living by my own schedule, no deadlines, no due dates, no children (unless you count the 2 cats, 1 dog, and 1 parakeet currently residing at the Hensley Zoo!). As much as I have looked forward to this time of freedom and relaxation, there is a part of me that's sad the school year is over and wishes I had just a few more days with my students. As I look back over this last year, there are so many stories to tell and things I learned about myself, that I could probably fill an entire notebook with! Here are a few of the highlights: - The day Emma told me, "My mom didn't get married until she was 30, so there's still hope for you Miss Hensley." Ahh, how encouraging! - The afternoon we were going ice-skating and I came back to the classroom after going to the bathroom to find an adult pair of boxers flying through the air. It turns out the dad of one of my students had used the bag he packed h

It's been over a month since I admitted to myself that I was depressed and needed to deal with it. It's been a long, difficult journey already and even though I have had more good days than bad lately, I still struggle with finding meaning, purpose, and most especially understanding into this current season of my life. I think one of the most frustrating things about this has been not being able to find the words to express how I'm feeling or what is going on inside. I've talked to my doctor and close friends, trying to explain this darkness I still can't find a way out of, but my words continue to fall short of the turmoil within. This past weekend I went to Women of Faith and one of the performers was Mandisa from American Idol. I bought a couple of her CDs and on one of them was a song that immediately spoke to my heart and resonated with some of what I am going through. It's this song, called He Will Come. I think my walk with God has been affected more by t

When it comes to getting a message from God, subtlety just doesn't work with me. I need in-your-face, can't-miss-it, definitely-from-God proof that he really is speaking to my heart about something. Lately, He's been helping me face the fact that I go through many days of my life wearing a mask. An 'I'm fine! Life is great!' mask that I use to try to convince everyone around me, and even myself, that things are good and life couldn't be better. Please don't get me wrong. For the most part, my life really is great. I am content to be single, I have a job I absolutely love, and I come home each evening to the two cutest cats and one lovable dog a person could ask for. I am blessed beyond measure and really am so thankful for everything God has given me. My struggle is with being authentic and 'real' with people. Because of past hurts and betrayals, I have built walls around my heart to protect myself from further pain. I know that causes me to come

"This I declare of the LORD: He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; He is my God, and I am trusting Him." ~ Psalm 91:4 After a long, busy week, I believe I've found some answers and taken my first steps down this new path of my life. At the insistence of my grandma (thanks GJ!) I made an appointment with my doctor this week to rule out any biological reasons for my recent depression, and although going to the appointment was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life, I am so thankful God gave me the courage and strength to walk through those doors. I am blessed to have a wonderful, caring Christian doctor. God brought her into my life 5 years ago when I had to have major surgery for endometriosis. She's very thorough and has such a positive outlook and approach to life. We talked for a long time about the things I am struggling with and I shared with her things I've never spoken out loud before. She asked a lot of questions, walked me through a l

"Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer. From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I. For you have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe. I long to dwell in your tent forever and take refuge in the shelter of your wings." ~ Psalm 61:1-4 Several weeks ago, I wrote about being in a slump. I hadn't been to church in over a month and in other areas of my life, just felt this 'blah' going on that I couldn't figure out. I wondered if maybe it was some sort of pre-midlife crisis or something along those lines but now, weeks later, I think it may be something more. It was just a little over a week ago that I admitted to a friend something I believed had been going on inside me for some time but was afraid to give voice to. I think I am going through, or suffering from, some sort of depression. Saying those words out loud and even admitting it to myself was incredibly scary and intimidati

There are many times in my walk with God when I honestly wonder what in the world He is up to and how He is working things out for my good. Current situations and circumstances sometimes cloud the big picture of what God is creating. But one thing I love to do is look back on other times in my life where I am now able to see the big picture, or at least a bigger part of it. One such time is the story of how I met my best friend and how God weaved circumstances and events to create a beautiful friendship that I enjoy with her today. Almost 6 years ago, I was in Honolulu getting ready to start orientation before I began 10 weeks of mission work on the Big Island of Hawaii. I had yet to meet my mission partner and all I knew about her was that her name was Amy and she had red hair. I was very apprehensive about the next 10 weeks for a few reasons: 1) I had never been away from home for that long before, and 2) I had originally been assigned to serve those 10 weeks with a friend I had m

"Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken. My victory and honor come from God alone. He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me." Psalm 62:5-7 I realized today that I'm in a slump...a 'haven't been to church in a month' slump. I feel like I should be attending Church Missers Anonymous meetings. "Hi, my name is Angie and I haven't been to church in over a month." "Hi, Angie" (Applause) Can you picture the scene with me? Pretty pathetic. The sad part of it all is I can't even really identify what is keeping me from going to church. There was the Sunday I had school activities going on, but I could have gone in between my students' performance. Then there were a couple Sundays when the friend of mine who attends the church I'm trying was out of town and I used the old "I don't want to go alone" excuse, wh

"...there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.'" ~ 2 Corinthians 12:7-9   It's been one of those hard weeks for me, one where I find myself (AGAIN!) missing having a mom. Just writing that now brings tears to my eyes. I can go weeks where this doesn't bother me and just when I least expect it or begin to think I'm making some progress, *bam!* it hits me again. I get so frustrated - both with myself and with God. I get frustrated with myself because I'm 28 years old and I keep thinking that this shouldn't bother me anymore. Why can't I just get over the fact that my mom isn't a part of my life and move on already? Seriously! Why does it still bring tears to my eyes and an unbearable anguish to my heart after 25 years? I wish I could understand! I also get

For the past several weeks, my class has been studying Ancient Greece in history. We talked about some of the gods and goddesses, the Olympics (both in the past when they participated naked and now, when they wear clothes!) and the Trojan War. My class really got into the whole Trojan War, they even 'played' it at recess - one group would be the Persians and one group would be the Greeks. They just loved it. We ended our Ancient Greece study today by having  a 'Greek Day.' We wore togas and olive leaf wreathes in our hair and had a delicious authentic Greek meal. It was the perfect way to finish out the unit! While we were eating lunch, the mom of one of my students shared with me an incident that really showed just how much of an impact talking about the Trojan War had on her daughter. Last night they were at Walmart, over in the pharmacy section and all of a sudden, my student began saying (rather excitedly I might add) "Trojans! Look Mom, Trojans! Just like in t

I've always known there were two things I wanted when I 'grew up' - a porch swing and a dog. Well, it seems God found it time that I be at least half-way grown up, as He has blessed me with a wonderful three legged border collie named Maggie! God brought Maggie into my life the same way He brought Calli (my 2nd cat) into my world - through a student at school. One of my students had his mom bring in a dog for show-and-tell and when I saw his mom and opened the door, I came face to face with the cutest little dog I had ever seen! I'm totally a dog person and I've rarely met a dog I didn't like, and I can honestly say it was love at first sight! My student got up and told us the story of Maggie's life. She had gotten her hind left foot caught in a coyote trap and was stuck in it for almost three days and the leg had to be amputated. His mom (who is a vet and amputated the leg) told the kids that Maggie didn't let the fact that she only had three legs s

I just finished reading a book called "Falling Into the Face of God" by William Elliott. In it, he goes into the Judean desert for 40 days like Jesus did. The book tells about his adventures he has and all the thoughts he has as God leads him through his time in the desert. There were a few things he said that caught my attention, but this one really struck a chord in me: "Then a deep sadness wells up from within me as I realize there has always been a secret, hidden part of me that has always felt I'm not doing things right or good enough." Boy, can I relate to those feelings! I think one of the biggest impacts the traumas in my childhood had on me was that I grew up believing I wasn't good enough. I honestly believed there was something innately wrong with me that made me unlovable.  Children are very ego-centric by nature, they think the whole world literally revolves around them. I believed my mom had left because I had done something wrong, something so

Well, I've been at this 'looking for a new church' thing for over a month and to be honest, am not sure if I'm any farther along than when I started! It has been hard. Getting out and meeting new people has always been hard for me and the past several Sunday  mornings I have found myself spending a lot of time trying to talk myself out of even going to church. It gets to the point where I just have to force myself to get up and get ready. I tried one church for a month and really enjoyed my times of worship there. Then, last Sunday, the pastor re-did the bulletin and put more of their beliefs in it and I read that they believe in women pastors. Since I don't believe that is Biblical, I knew I had to start looking again. The hard part, though, is trying not to make a decision based on my personal bias. I went to a different church this morning, a church that a friend of mine and her family go to, and one of the first people I saw when I walked in was my old landlord

One of my parents came up to me this week after school and said she had talked to her son about what to get his classmates for Valentine's Day. She was telling him that because the class is so small, he could do somthing really fun. She suggested a few different things and then he interrupted her and said, "Mom, I don't want to get those girls anything that they will read something into - I want to get them something gross!" Spoken like a true boy!!

"Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you." ~ Exodus 20:12 Of the 10 commandments, this one is the hardest for me understand and live out. It's easy to honor my father since he has given up so much for me and we have such a great relationship. I struggle with honoring a mother who left when I was three because she had more important things to do. She never made me a priority in her life and was only being a mom when it was convenient for her - usually a month or so in the summer. I can't recall her ever having made a single sacrifice for me. Her life has been the epitome of selfishness and I don't know how to honor that. I have been so blessed, however, to see this commandment lived out in the life of a friend of mine in a way that encourages me greatly and touches my heart. Last year, her dad was diagnosed with cancer and died within a few months. During those last weeks, she would take 2 weeks off o

"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne?  Though she may forget, I will not forget you. See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands" Isaiah 49:15-16 Have you ever had a wrestling match with God that seems to go on forever? Just when you think you've learned what He is trying to teach you and you come to some sort of peace with it all, you hear the *Tweet* of the whistle and know you're in for another exhausting round? That's where I am right now with God...rather, where I've been for the past few years and I'm telling ya, some days the battle gets so intense that I'm ready to crawl to a corner of the mat, curl up into a ball and give up. Seriously. I grew up without a mom and I know I've said it before, and I'll probably say it again, but it has been hard...really hard. I always hoped the pain would fade as I grew older but instead, it only seems to intensify with time. I wish I knew w

This song makes me cry every time I hear it. It speaks such an important and powerful message to me as a teacher and as an abuse survivor. As a teacher, I often wonder what I would do if I found out one of my students was being abused at home and I pray that if it's a situation I ever have to face, God will give me the courage to do whatever it takes to protect my student. As a survivor of abuse, it makes me wonder which of the students that walk through our halls every day are being abused. Before I started teaching this year, I was an aide and one of my responsibilities was to do recess every day. I used to sit there some days and watch the students play and interact with each other, wondering which of them were being abused. Statistically speaking, it's a fact that some of our students are being abused. As a teacher, and a fellow survivor, that kills me inside, especially since there's usually no way to tell unless they say something or there is b

When I first began the healing journey almost 10 years ago, God gave me the amazing ability to write poetry as a way of getting my thoughts out. This is one of my favorites, and the first one I ever wrote. When I Was a Little Girl     When I was a little girl, I wanted to be loved. But you loved me in all the wrong ways and now I don't want to be loved anymore.   When I was a little girl, I wanted to be held. But you held me inappropriately and now I don't want to be held anymore.   When I was a little girl, I wanted to be needed. But you needed me for your perverse pleasures and now I don't want to be needed anymore.   When I was a little girl, I thought I was pretty. But you used me in ways that made me feel ugly and dirty and now I don't think I'm pretty anymore.   When I was a little girl, I wanted to be special. But your way of making feel special was to hurt me and now I don't want to be special anymore.   When I was a little girl, I wanted to get married

In religion this morning, the teacher had read a verse from the Bible about bearing fruit. She asked, "What does it mean to 'bear fruit'?" and little Jarrod blurts out, "Is that, like, fruit without any skin?"

I heard a really good sermon yesterday and it's been something my brain has been tossing around the past 48 hours. It was refreshing, first of all, to hear a sermon that inspired me. I don't know if it was his talent as a preacher or mine as a pew-sitter, but I could tune out the pastor at my former church the minute he started to preach. Sad, yes, but a true confession on my part. Anyway, at the new church I am trying for awhile, the pastor really preached a good one that got me thinking. He talked about how unbelievers are always watching Christians from the outside, to see how we live our lives. One way he said we should be known is by our love. I'm not a very loving person, I'm tend to lean more on the selfish, always-think-of-me way of living. I'd like to think I show love to my students every day by not killing them when they're slacking off or giving me an attitude, but when it comes to intentionally doing things for other people out of love, especially p

Well, I did it. Without meaning to, without any intention at all, my starting this blog opened a big ol' can of worms - slimy, gross, disgusting ones. Seriously. I started this blog mainly for me, for my own piece of mind. A place where I could share my thoughts, vent my emotions, share the joy of my 2nd graders, and just ramble out my thoughts in general. If others wanted to read it, that was fine. If they didn't, that was fine too. (Although in all seriousness, my 2nd graders do say the funniest things if you ever need a laugh!) What I didn't intend for this blog to do was bring up more hurt, more secrets, and more pain from the past. I honestly didn't even see it coming. For years after I told my dad about my abuse and it ended, for over a decade, I thought I was my grandfather's only victim. The only one he hurt with his selfish, lustful thoughts and actions. I know it is very rare for an offender to have just one victim but I figured that my situation was one o

" Some of God's attributes are too wonderful to understand. But even if they remain darkness to the intellect, let them be sunshine for your soul. " - Unknown Since my grandfather was a preacher, I grew up going to church every Sunday. I went to Sunday school, Vacation Bible School in the summers, everything. Church and learning about God were a huge part of my life. A lot of my memories from when I was a little girl involve either being at church or include people from the church. But all I had come to know about God was completely shattered when I told my secret. The thing is, when the abuse was happening, I honestly didn't know just how wrong it was. I never liked what was happening, and towards the end, I began to think that something wasn't right because of how concerned my grandfather was with keeping the abuse a secret. But at that age, I was very unaware of how wrong my grandfather’s actions were. It wasn’t until after I told that I began to understand