Category Archives: Loss

Posted on

ENTRAPPED: The Norma L. Brumbaugh Story, Part 1

A Story You’ve Not Heard Before

PAIN: TALK 1: my testimony 65 minutes

 

Some family and friends have expressed an interest in hearing my full story. This is your chance. This recording, from ten years ago, was my first time ever going public with the happenings that had hurt me. I have told my story a few other times but enough time has passed that it isn’t quite the same.

PAIN: Talk 1, my testimony

I requested permission to share my story from my adult children, my siblings, and my ex-husband. They have gone out of their comfort zone and have graciously consented to support me and the message of life that my words seek to convey: The message that God is light, that his light enters dark places, heals deep hurts, and mends wounded lives. I appreciate their willingness to be vulnerable. We are a private family that prefers to be in the background and not be noticed, so this is a gift to me, and you. I know they are trusting God to use my words for his glory, which is my wish as well.

When I first told my story in church back in 2007,  I owed it to my church family who had loved me through it all, and allowed me to heal while still serving in our assembly; and I owed it to God because I knew he could use my past experiences to help others struggling with similar issues. It could be a resource to them.

Life’s struggles can be isolating but that is not the last word. God is a God of second chances. I praise him for his goodness and faithfulness, healing and love, hope and kindness. To God be the glory, great things he has done.

You may want to read last week’s post before listening to Talk 1. I’d recommend it as an introduction to this week’s post. You will find it here: “I Felt like Damaged Goods.”

The Recording

Sorry the quality of this recording has some background noise. A man in my church recorded it with a little hand held recorder placed on the podium. I’m thankful he recorded it for me. Minutes before I spoke, he asked me if I was nervous. I responded with a yes. Then he encouraged me with these words, “You’ll do fine.” It felt like a father’s blessing (and he’s the quietest man in the church).

Two of my family were present, my mother and my oldest son. I knew it would be hard for them, and it was.  It took courage on my son’s part.  His pain was visible. I appreciated him being there, knowing it would be difficult for him. He knew it too, but he came anyway. Thank you, Josh. I love you.

I am glad the recording came out clear enough that I can share it with you. If I retold the story today, I don’t think it would portray the same emotion.

To my family members, my church family and those mentioned in the testimony, I appreciate you. You have always been a source of encouragement to me. My story, our story, is a source of encouragement and blessing to others.

And to Randy, thank you for supporting me in this endeavor. This means more than you will ever know. In your own words “If it can help someone then I’m okay with it.” I’m glad God helped you and me to establish grace between us after all the struggle we went through.

And to my children, this is a big one for you. Thank you for trusting me and supporting me in this. I know it is not easy for you, either, and you may feel exposed. We are still working through some of this and probably always will. I dearly love you.

Again, thank you to my parents and siblings for letting me talk about our private devastations, losses we will always grieve and regret. God has carried us through, and still carries us through. We are grateful for this. I love you more and more as the years pass.

Lastly, thanks to God, who never wastes anything and makes something new and beautiful from the shards of broken pieces in our lives. Beauty from ashes. Your love has transformed me. I love you more than my words can adequately express.

Please feel free to share my story with others.

Link to Talk 2 here.

Pictures to go with the recording.

Dad and mother, Juanita, Marilyn, Norma, Paul, and baby Lois on Easter Sunday at my Grandpa and Grandma Brumbaugh’s house. 1960

The Brumbaugh Family on Sunday morning: Paul, Marilyn, Dad, Mother, Lois, Norma, and Juanita.

Wedding day. 1980, Chico, CA

Son 1. New beginnings and I’m loving it.

Our family is increasing, with Joshua, Thomas, and LaVonne. We are now living in Greenville, CA.    1986

Number four is on the way and I’m volunteering at the grade school in Westwood.

Living in Westwood, CA   1990

The family in the busy, busy days! Someone was always holding a fussy baby during meal time. On my parents’ 40th anniversary.  1991

We’re visiting and helping at Grandma Weigold’s house.

My mother and sister Lois, celebrating their birthdays (and my son’s) at our home in Westwood.

Back in Chico. I’m going to graduate school and working as an instructional aide (and expecting my fifth).

Family is Josh, Randy, Glorianne, Norma, Forrest, LaVonne, and Thomas. 1997

Our first Christmas without their dad. We are sensitive to our new situation.

My family a few months after I spoke.

My family in 2017.

With my siblings and parents: Juanita, Marilyn, Mother, Dad, Norma Paul

Until next time. Adios.

Posted on

I Felt Like Damaged Goods

 My Life

I have referred to pain in my past a number of times on this blog. You know bits and pieces. But you have no idea how truly difficult it was for me. Pain left me broken, upended, with hopes dashed. I had given it my all. I had tried my hardest, but my efforts were never enough.  God was with me, and us, the whole way.

In my naivety, I once upon a time believed that being a Christian and having a strong belief in God was enough … to carry me through just about anything and everything. But I never expected my life would know the harsh side of several of the biggies, and in their aftermath, the long and arduous road to recovery, and that it would so utterly and completely impact and change me. Part of my journey was hard, harder than I ever thought possible.

Every story has a reason. You can find its meaning if you seek it. I’ve learned to not regret my life. I now know what I didn’t know then, that God is the keeper of the flame. He doesn’t waste anything. I could not share what I talk about today if I hadn’t been stripped of everything I’d depended upon, and then still found God as enough. He will always be enough. Every time you look at his beautiful creation, God is whispering to you that he is enough. God is love. I know it is true because he is the maker of us all, and he is the keeper of us all, and he is the lover of us all (adapted from St. Julian of Norwich).

I shared on Facebook that it has been ten years since I first went public with my story of pain for my church family. You should know that it took a great deal of courage for me to talk about personal issues involving others in my family. I debated it back and forth for well over a year. I was scared to tell it; scared that I might break down and cry, scared that I would say too much, scared that my ex-husband might become angry with me, worried that it would embarrass my family or they would resent it, worried that I wouldn’t carry it off well, and worried that it would backfire. Most of all, I feared that people would think I was foolish by the choices I had made, that had, ultimately, caused me much pain. I didn’t think people would understand how much was required of me in the making of those hard choices.

For twenty-five years I had lived in a self-enclosed bubble. The barrier effectively kept others out and kept me in. I couldn’t be real because I could not openly share my life with others, about what was behind the mask. I was a ministry leader and teacher in three areas in my church and that put a condition on it. I had avoided talking the personal stuff should I break down and cry. I feared the sobs would be forceful and unstoppable. I avoided women’s retreats for fear of becoming emotional. I knew I dared not risk it. Besides, there were secret sorrows I had protected out of respect for my loved ones–my children and my extended family and my Ex and his extended family (we were still friends).

But God had healed me, he had deep down inside healed me. I reasoned, he had given me a gift that should be used to help others. My speaking would be the fulfillment of a vow I’d made, to give out of what I had been given. I asked my spiritual father, Pastor Pete, if I could share my story with our church family. Much of what I had learned wasn’t textbook Christianity but was helpful. I wanted to help some of my friends, the ones who also suffered in silence, like I had suffered–sad for what wasn’t mine and wishful for what I wished was mine, and that life wouldn’t be so hard.

It is unfortunate that Christians used to, more than now, teach that feelings are undependable, sometimes counterfeit, unpredictable and that truth stands alone. Truth does stand alone, but the way it is presented can be skewed. We’ve all seen truth used like a hammer to badger people. True truth is verified through the outpouring of the emotions and feelings. It is because of GOD’S LOVE that we have the capacity to love. We love because God loved.

I know God loves me. I know in a tangible way that his love sustained me through hardship and emotional turmoil. I was so alone. God carried me through. I grew in him. I loved him. I clung to him. I sorrowed with him. He was there every time I was wounded and sat under a walnut tree to sob, pray, compose my emotions, regroup, and then return to my children, husband, and their needs. God taught me more than you can imagine. God was, and is, my strength, hope, and joy. Greatest of all, I learned to trust him. In the quietness on numerous occasions, the thought came, “Trust me.”

To Be Continued.

Last Friday I said I would include an audio recording of my testimony today. Sorry, I got the cart before the horse. I do have the audio recording ready to roll but whether it will be posted at all depends on the permissions I receive from the people in my story. If it is to be, it will be. God knows. In my heart of hearts I would like to share my story with you. But it is not only my story, it also involves others…. and they have to be comfortable with it or see the good it can do. I will keep you informed.

I hope you have a good week.

Norma