Read Angie's Thoughts

A recent conversation with a friend has prompted a trip down memory lane...10 years ago to be exact. I was in my first year of teaching at Trinity Lutheran School after being an aide for three years and I LOVED it. I had a fantastic group of kids, supportive parents, and worked with staff that were practically family. I was making more money than I ever had before, I had friends, a quaint little house with a cute little puppy and life was good. At least from the outside. Inside, I was discouraged ALL the time. I was often on the verge of tears during the day with my students but hid them behind a smile until I was home alone in the evening. There was a heaviness sitting on my shoulders that I couldn't shake, no matter how hard I tried, and I was tired. Emotionally, physically, and spiritually. I remember laying in bed at night, sobbing, as I reasoned that this world would be better without me in it. I cut often as a way to deal with the pain. This morning in my Bible study, we read

The things you did filled me with shame, Tales of such horror I can’t even name. The fear keeps me quiet, unable to speak, But deep down inside, it’s making me weak. It amazes me still, this power you hold, I thought it had ended the night that I told. I’m filled with such shame and even more guilt, Can’t climb over the walls of blame I have built. I can’t find the words to explain how I feel, I only know these feelings are so very real. (Written in 2001)     Several years ago, a former teacher/coach from high school came and did the devotion for the Christian group I was a part of in college. I don't remember most of what he said but one thing has stuck with me all these years. He mentioned shame and being ashamed and what the difference was - shame is being embarrassed or humiliated by something you did while being ashamed is being disgusted or humiliated by something you are (or believe yourself to be).   After being sexually abused as a child,