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Detailed DescriptionBelonging will help you to discover that knowledge is the key and courage opens the door. If you're ready to shed your "victim" label, read "Belonging" and start reclaiming what was taken from you.
Ron's Story
I've been in the darkness of the dungeon,
A 4 X 6 X 6 cold damp box;
Naked and alone - very alone;
In solitary confinement behind thick cement walls
And miles of barbed wire at the state penitentiary.
I understand the torture of prejudice
And the brutality of power.
Days blurred into unending nights;
Hope faltered and died.
Release from the hole seemed impossible.
I desperately wanted out.
But someone else had the key.
I'd been stripped of my dignity,
Naked and shamed.
My strength was ebbing from poor nutrition;
My muscles flaccid with disuse.
I curled myself into a fetal position,
Yearning to return to the safety of the womb.
My thoughts condemned me.
My selfhood was gone,
And although I existed - my spirit was dead!
I've been out in the sunlight married to the woman I adore,
My daughters laughing and playing beside me.
I've fulfilled my dream of finishing graduate studies
And practcing my chosen profession,
But all the while feeling more desperate
than I did in the hole.
I've been in the spider's web.
I found the route of escape,
Both from the cement and barbed-wire prison,
And from the prison of my mind.
Nancy's Story
I also know the torture of confinement,
but not behind cold stone walls or barbed wire.
Caged in flesh and bone, I silently feared
that being who I really was would get me
ridiculed, ignored, unapproved or rejected.
Curled on the sofa in my childhood home,
I sucked my thumb while I wished away a painful secret,
and made believe that all was well.
And as I sat, my body built unattractive walls
designed to keep intruders out,
because the safety of my home
had been violated by two men in my neighborhood.
I knew nothing of perceptions, so in my web
I saw my dad as rigid, unyielding with me,
and yet I laughed and played with him
and brought home other kids to do the same.
Admiring his wit, wisdome, and talent, I conformed
to hear the words he could not say.
Why couldn't I please him?
My soft and tender mother stroked my hair and my ears with her velvet hands and endeavored to interpret
and convince me of Daddy's love.
But paralyzing fear colored my view of reality and truth;
so we both felt rejected by the other.
What he needed, he could not give.
I wish I'd understood then
that deeds he did and gifts he gave
replaced his words unsaid
and that his disappointment shown
was his praise, disguised.
But this was not to be
until I discovered that knowledge is the key
and courage opens the door.
This book is about escape.
It's about the journey to emotional freedom.
It's about cutting the sticky strands of the web,
And being free.
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| Your Price | QTY |
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