Broken Little Girl

I grew up in love. There were horrible unspeakables that happened to me growing up. The way I was able to heal from my memories was through a healing ministry powerful through Jesus and prayer. I was taken back to the first offensive memory that was holding me back in life, and that was when I was molested while spending the night at my aunts. I had taken a bath and didn’t have clean underware so she dressed me in big panties and a nightgown. I was sent to bed while the other girls got to stay up. I was asleep when I woke up in fright and pain. I couldn’t see my older male cousins face because I was paralyzed in fear. He took his two pointer fingers and middle fingers pressing them together and penetrated my vagina. I did not know what was happening but i knew it was very wrong. I assumed it was one cousin and grew up hating him for what he did, little did I know I grew up loving the wrong cousin who hurt me. I was taken back through this memory through prayer and healing and Jesus was right there. It wasn’t my fault. I had done not a thing but be a little girl unscathed by a man’s touch. There is healing in the name of Jesus. There is forgiveness in the name of Jesus. Through Him all things are possible and able to overcome great hardships. Before I gave my heart to Jesus I was a mean thing when angered and a nice thing when happy. A problem I still struggle with today, acting on sheer emotion. When I love, I love fiercly and grew up being told not to hate but to dislike. Don’t hate people, dislike their actions. If people were not capable of change and that is a change of heart when Jesus is King of your heart, there would be no hope. I found my hope in Jesus and no matter the struggle of my sinful ways I never gave up hope. I was blinded by my own selfishness my whole life. Thinking I could get what I want only because I wanted it. I was a daddy’s little girl and I knew it. I did get what I wanted even though we grew up below the poverty line. We were rich in love and that I also knew. My mother showed us through action the ends of lengths she would go to protect us.

After my second grade year I was playing at the playground. A cousin of mine pulled my pants down to my ankles in front of the entire dismissed school. Everyone saw my private parts and I was humiliated. I ran home crying. The first time someone hurt me I was too scared to tell but this time was different. It was in front of people, in front of everyone. I told my mom. She took my hand and marched me back to the school to meet with the principal Mrs. Stout, a little thing in my eyes. She told my mom there was not a thing she was able to do because school had already been dismissed. My mom called her on her authority. That next year my momma homeschooled us. That was by far my favorite year of school, at home. I was safe and I was able to do crafts and read cool books like the Diclopedia, half dictionary and half encyclopedia. Schools in the village receive funding based on student count. My mom withdrew three of her children based on the non action of the Principal. They lost enough funding that impacted the school in such a way that Mrs. Stout was no longer the Principal in Unalakleet. A mother’s love will change the world.

I was a tough little girl and I could throw fits like no other. I was walking past the graveyard one day and three boys tackled me down. Two held my arms and legs while one was rubbing my vagina. I cried and yelled and screamed and kicked. I was fighting for my life at such a young age. The wounds are there in my heart, but they were cleaned and healed through Jesus. That is the only way. I fought hard enough and yelled hard enough the three boys got scared and let me go. One asked for forgiveness later on in life and I did forgive, not only him but all three. I was taking a nap on top of my bunk bed at the old house a few years later and my cousin, who was one of the three assailants, tried to touch my boobs. I spoke fear and terror into his heart the second that happened because I was no longer the defenseless little girl they tried to rape at the graveyard. Memories are blocked by God as for a way to protect the mind from self destruction. God reveals memories in due time as a call to healing and forgiveness and that is only through Jesus. I remember everything and memories were never blocked for me. What I saw as a curse is more of a blessing because I am constantly being healed and forgiven.

In middle school I was shooting hoops at the gym and an older guy was guarding me. Each time he tried to take the ball playing defense he took a feel at my underdeveloped breasts. I thought the first was an accident and after the third time I ran to the girls room crying. I didn’t go back to the gym after that. I had to learn to be healed and learn how to forgive. And that is through Jesus. There is power in the name of Jesus. And each and every time anyone has ever hurt me He was there. He was watching. He didn’t have control over the boys because He didn’t have their hearts. There is room for evil in the heart only when Jesus is not a part of it. The things that were done to me are common in the villages. It’s a hurt passed down from generation to generation. We are the generation of healing and forgiveness. How we handle the wrongs did to us has the capability to change and right the future. This I pray and yearn for, little girls growing up without the fear or pain I lived my life in. That hurt and that pain was given to Jesus and I am healed through Him and Him alone. Not one single girl who has opened up to me had a life free of pain. We are being hurt and it is going to stop. Men who hurt little girls will face judgment on this Earth and will pay for their sins in Jesus name.

There is hope for forgiveness and reconciliation and that is through Our Savior Jesus Christ. Life to me is being alive and living my life for Jesus. I was given a smile and that is a beautiful thing because that is something we all share. A simple smile. A mother’s love. Being raised in both worlds of traditional knowledge of the land and growing up along with technology in a sense. Watching the world progress but through that progression of convenience there is a connection lost. The everyday interactions with people is lost when we give up our right by choosing a computer over real human connections. I have always said convenience will be the death of us all. That death is people no longer caring, no longer standing up for what is right and being idle. When the change we are capable of is in the home and that is where it starts. Raising our children in love. With love comes discipline because we all make mistakes, we are human. There is beauty in brokenness when the glue that puts us back together is the Love of Jesus.

We are all broken, shattered in different ways, missing pieces. The piece to the puzzle is Love. Jesus is our perfect example of love. You will never know this love unless you make the personal choice of accepting Him. It is awesome! He is the ultimate Awesomeness in the entire existence throughout eternity.

Our mission on this world is to love. It is so very simple. So very comprehensible. Literally, starting with the home. The foundations of who we are, are established through the age of seven. It takes seven years for a Salmonberry to germinate. One cup of salmonberries has the equivalent nutritional value of seven oranges. This super food is unknown to many, but those who do know it, eat it. There is beauty in God’s creation. We are all created by God and all play a role in this chaos we call life.

I was asked if I had a super power what I would want. I said I would choose not to have ever existed. Mainly because of the pain and hurt I’ve endured my entire life. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. To say that was wrong. Because I am created in the likeness of God as we all are. I see my faults and stumble daily. I’ve overcome a lot and never gave up on hope. That is a hope for a better future. Stand up for what is right. Stand up for Jesus. Give all the glory to God because He deserves it and Him alone.

My understanding of love is so very simple. It is literally deciding every single day, that no matter what I go through, I will put a smile on my face. When I smile I smile because Jesus resides in my heart. A simple smile, given freely, only in hopes to put a smile on your face. A smile creates hope. When I loose my smile I loose hope. I am a very happy go lucky type of personality. Gullible to the fullest and ever so trusting. I don’t like the actions of people and that is ok, that does not mean I do not love them. We hold no water when we try to judge others because that right is reserved for Jesus. So I simply do not judge. I’ve come to the understanding that some people just cannot love, that is only because they do not have Jesus in their heart. When you accept Jesus into your heart it is admitting our sins, acknowledging Jesus died for our sins and a call to love. He loved me first and I will love Him till my last breath on this earth. When I say I love you I mean it with every facet of my being, however imperfect that is only because I know in my heart of hearts that Jesus paid the ultimate price. He died no more for me than He died for you. Does not play favorites and accepts all. The only example of perfection, something we can strive for but never attain.

The innocence of the little girl. I was always so happy regardless of the home I ran into, in shame every single day. It alone taught me never to be ashamed of where I came from and to always, always be thankful for a roof over my head. It was seven different colors and written on the front was the tag #1. I really didn’t like the old house. It was falling apart our whole lives and us five kids had to share one room. It had two bunk beds and a queen in one room and my parents had the smaller room. We always had running water and a flush toilet. That is a luxury some villages still have yet to attain.

I always tried to have as many friends as I could because I liked people in general. I befriended a different classmate each to my own liking. My best friends growing up were Val-gal and Beatrice. They both have a joy about life that held my heart. I loved having picnics on top of the old shed or exploring the village of Unalakleet. Bea was able to play with us up at camp and we always had a blast. I remember playing bakery with mud pies in happy valley, the subsection of town where all the homes are alike. There are a lifetime of memories I hold so very dear to my heart and when I think back on my life I really don’t see how I could have been more blessed than to be the person God created me to be.

There is a love for learning and the yearning to understand. If I had a question I simply asked for the answer. If I wasn’t given an answer I searched for the answer. I wasn’t one to be left in the dark and my hand was always eager to be raised. My favorite teacher growing up was my mom. She taught me everything we needed to know to survive how our ancestors did. It’s a beautiful thing to be able to culturally identify with our loved ones who went on before us. I lack the ability to speak my native tongue, but I have treasured basic words I learned and I’m always willing to learn more. The willingness to do my best has always been there, not because I think I am better than anyone, I really just wanted to make my mom proud. Her true grit and passion for life lives in her no matter how hard she is afflicted by the evil one he will never snatch her. That is the truth. There is a spiritual warfare constantly occurring that we are unaware of. I do not fear any thing other than the fear I have for God, only because that is a fear out of love. Just as you hold your mother and fear her rod that is the same fear of respect and love we have for God.

I pray every single day and every single day I pray in a different way. I humbly go before my God and I thank Him, I adore Him, I miss Him and love Him. I pray for my children, for God to protect their heart, mind and body. The selfless act of a mother giving her children to God is the same act my mother was asked to do. It’s not giving up your children it’s putting them in God’s care because that is the best care in existence. My first born son has the heart of nations. His ideas are revolutionary and will change the world. It’s the same heart of mine that bleeds for children and the helpless. His idea of procreation is that there should be none, not until the children who have no parents are taken in by those capable. Giving hope and love where there is none. Literally holding back the selfish act of I want to make my own baby to there are so many babies in the world who have absolutely nothing. They die every second of every day through starvation and abuse. How can we sit idle. How can change not be created when we as a race are more than capable. We spend our lives running around in a cirlcle not really accomplishing anything. That is where I have fault in my ways of thinking. I want to care so much about the world in it’s entirety that I fail to care enough to hold my family together. Small steps, baby steps. Taking care of the home. You literally decide what you make your home. My home is love but I lack patience and understanding. When I see red and hear red that is my own rage blinding myself. It is selfish. Selfishness is hate. I only want love. God is love.


Consumer Greed

Consumer greed
From dusk to dawn
From dawn to dusk
Feeding a frenzy
For a lust to have more
When what you have is more than enough
The world is dying
There is no lying
Not everyone will keep trying
Subculture rising
Where people are inspiring
Wake up you are feeding the belly of the fat pig

Call for Change

IMG_2358Does your neck not tire
From looking away for so long
Are you blinded by hate
While you shroud yourself with
The cloak of selfishness
Do you not seek change?
Or simply wish to keep
Breaking your neck
Put your head straight
Rise and stand up
March on for the end is near
Not nearly near enough for me
When I lay my head down for
My final rest
I am with you and only ask you to do your best

A Hopeful Hopeless

I’m the loneliest person around
Every single day is a struggle


Where is my eye for beauty
Has my vision faded so
I used to see the magic in it all
Now I see merely facets of fading pastels
I was once able to paint in my mind
The beauty we are all surrounded by
But now I must work harder
Because my mind no longer paints
Merely tries to just forget
The hate that makes man great
I see the destruction of the earth
Whom I love so dear
If beauty is In the eye of the beholder
I pray she holds me near
Encase me with your earth
Return me back to dust
This is my desire
Something that I lust
When one can no longer see the beauty
Blinded by my own rage
A rage against humanity
Isn’t it just the same
Love endures all lies all pains
But do not tell me you love me
And leave me alone all the same
Silly girl those are lies enflamed
For you are loved by your creator
God in Jesus name.

The Babysitter

I loved growing up next to my Grandma and Grandpa Johnson. Before an entire village let me help them raise their kids, I would babysit my napping grandparents. Papa would be reclined on his brown recliner, to me it was his throne because even though he had a colorful past he was loved and that’s between him and God and belongs in the by and by. My grandmother was grace and beauty in living form. She had the hands of an angel because she created everything she made out of love. She usually fell asleep along with Papa working on one of her creations. I would sit on the floor practicing solitaire with cards or look through her magazines and see the world through what she chose to read. Her mother’s love never failed, never ended and stood the test of all ages and lives on in her children, all Mommas have this love for their kids, but a lot weren’t shown how to love. I cracked up every time my Papa asked for his cane I would try to bring him his Cookie Monster cane full of gadgets. I really wanted him to just honk the horn on it and use it but I would end up getting his plain cane with a hook on the end. I remember when there was no addition to the pink house and would sit in the back being so proud of Johnsons lake, it was pretty then. I grew up in love. That was my nickname love. And each Aunt or Uncle had a special nickname for me and I remember each one. My favorite part of the year wasn’t Christmas it was the end of the year. Where we gathered at my Grams and ate our traditional food on New Year’s Eve, talk about starting the year right. Gerd whatchya doin? Babysitting my grandma and grandpa. No matter how old I get I don’t say no unless I’m sick or unable to babysit because every time you make a baby smile an angel sends you a kiss from heaven. Every time you make one cry, God himself will cry with that baby. That is why I did my best to be the best babysitter in Unalakleet. I was raised in love. It literally took a Village to raise me. My Grandma gave the best mucks (kisses) because she was an angel on this earth. When I found out my mom balled her out drunk about my dad I was mad beyond understanding, I gave it to God. To me they are both love and a mother can only do so much and that’s raise her children in love to create a better world for them. After that I didn’t go see my Gram because of the likeness physically I share with my mom. I didn’t want her to think I was my mom. I watched my Grandpa pass away on his throne on this earth surrounded by love as he took his last breaths. I watched my Grandma pass away as she was surrounded by love singing Jesus Loves Me. I have the memories of a lifetime and they are mine. I keep the best ones to myself or they slip out in laughter. My Grandmas love will carry on just like my moms love. There was no hate between them only the question why. Why. We are the generation of healing and love. Our people endured all things hate and love and we still operate out of love. Love. IMG_5326


I’m the type of person who gets joy and happiness seeing others do well and succeeding. When it comes to people I love and care about, there is nothing less that I would want for them other than to see them doing well. If there is anything in this world that I can do well it is to be an encourager and a healer. Simply put, love all. IMG_5414


Christs Own REvolution. We completed our training course in Bethel. Our team was packed up and ready for our first missions trip to the reputable Hooper Bay. Don was our pilot on the MARK plane. As if destined to defeat any obstacles from the start what seemed to be a hiccup was more of a blessing. As the airplane was accelerating for take off, the pilot window, yes the cockpit pilot window, opened. Suddenly we are taxiing back to the hangar just as we were about to make it the left engine completely failed. The wait was worrisome as they fixed the same craft that hours ago, if not for a strange miracle, would have had engine failure just after lift off. We didn’t have much of a choice but to trust the mechanic and through prayer we flew on. Hooper Bay was to be one of five villages we would spread hope and love and the lust for life and joy in our savior Jesus. Mark and Jeff were the interim pastors living in Hooper back when it was a one truck town. The descent was reminiscent of wolves circling their prey as the two Hondas approach our plane. When we came to a stop they circled us four or five times before speeding off. We were excited and I know I wasn’t intimidated, I felt brave, in my mind my comfort was “if they hurt me, He will heal me, if they kill me, I will be with Him.” After all, I was ready to change the world. Being in Hooper Bay was like traveling to another slightly known third world village. The shanty boardwalks added a rugged look. The suicide rate was high here, strings of deaths occurred at a time and time again, we were up against darkness that made a once powerful people feel hopeless. This was the first of its kind, a bunch of high school kids who had the same love for Jesus spreading the gospel to hurting villages. Our weapon of choice: a basketball. Go to any village… literally any village, in Alaska… no doubt, basketball is second to subsistence. Ok, basketball is a way of life in rural Alaska. We held tournaments, shared our stories, sang songs but most of all we were ourselves, we had fun and shared our love for life and that became, Lord willing, rooted in the hearts of God’s beloved children. I related to most, if not all, these girls here. I was a victim of sexual abuse. A voice is rising in our generation and nothing will silence it because it is time for healing and first He heals us through Him and we are able to be used to help heal others. It’s a journey we start from birth. It’s our destiny fulfilled by living a life of love. That was our mission to spread love. I felt the hurt. I cried myself to sleep the first night. The vividness of my dream, it was a revelation. I had to choose between two tunnels. The first was scary, it had roots hanging from the top, visible spider webs, and straight up looked like a animal dug it out. The next one wasn’t scary to me at all. It was simply a tunnel of red bricks, clearly man made. I proceeded down the brick tunnel and became sluggishly hot, perspiring heavily. It became dark before the fiery red glow started to appear. Oh man I made a clear mistake. I was going, literally, to hell. I turned the heck around and ran out as fast as I can. I have never been more scared in a more vivid dream until that day. I ponied up and went down the tunnel I thought was scary. I could see the light of the sun but more radiant, more bright. The songs of nature in unison. I felt gleaming rays of love and all my fears were washed away and I never felt more free, more happy. I awoke before slightly seeing the entrance of the exit. Glorious. I shared my dream in my journal. I wouldn’t have to do that because it’s one of many dreams significant to me that changed my life.