Kathleen Frank Author: April 2013

Author and Survivor Antiqua Libbey shares three unique stories of her life that have changed her to a path of forgiveness, healing, and righteousness. Please take a moment to read a little bit about this beautiful woman's life and how it changed her.

Full Circle in God’s Grace; Three unique stories of my life.

(Some of the names in the story have been changed to protect the not so innocent.)

STORY I

My name is Lisha and my miracle began when I was 13 years old, when God appeared to me in person and told me to “go home and tell.” What followed continued to unfold until it came full circle 15 years later. Before I jump right in, let me take you back and share with you what God was sending me home to “tell.”

At 13, my life was full of contrast. I had been a latch-key kid since the first grade, spending countless hours at home alone each afternoon. Both my parents had to work hard to take care of our seven horses, three dogs and me. I was in the sixth grade and did as much as I could to help with the chores while keeping up with school. School was my favorite part of my life. There, things were relatively safe and I enjoyed the encouragement my teachers gave me for my efforts. On the outside my life looked fairly normal. But little did people know that I was the holder of a very dark secret; a secret that was passed down to me to hold and keep from my family. I tried to tell my secret, but it seemed no one could hear me. When I was very young, around two years old, I didn’t know what to do with my secret so I cried. When I was four, I yelled and threw fits. When I was seven, I thought I was saved when my mother remarried. But when I was eight and adopted by my new dad, I discovered the secret would silently repeat itself again and again, untold.

At the age of 13, it had been about two years since anyone older than me had touched me or hurt me. Even the “discipline” of regular beatings with belts, switches or garden hoses lessened. I really thought that my nightmare had come to a manageable end. Things were looking up.

I started up a business cleaning stables for neighboring horse owners who didn’t have time to get out and clean the stables themselves. One day I was cleaning our neighbor Sal’s two stables. As I opened the stable door, shivers ran down my spine when a thirty-something year old man met me, locked the door and firmly gripped my arms, pressing his lips against mine. He said, “I just think you are the best. Do you want my horse? I will give it to you. Do you want to be my girlfriend? I won’t tell anyone, just trust me…(kiss)...” My mind melted. Unbeknownst to him I knew what that meant. “Move,” I thought. ”Get out of here. Run.” As fast as I could I reached for the lock and threw the door open and with weak legs I fled to the field behind the horses.

“Now what do I do?” I asked myself as I shook and clinched my legs, huddled up in Dry Lake. Dry Lake is a big, sunken, empty field and was the perfect place to hide. I hid for a while, not knowing what to do or who to tell. I felt it was up to me to take care of myself. My mother, who I had told before, never seemed to hear what I was saying and my dad could never know. I felt that both would’ve just blamed me. And I would not tell my biological father in fear of him abandoning me totally. What could I do? A flood of hopeless despair washed over me; a feeling I knew far too well. That feeling came whenever I realized I had to take care of myself, and there it was again. At least in that moment no one could see me hiding and crying. So there I was crying out, “God this has to end, I am done…why is this happening again?” “Go home and tell your parents. Tell your mother everything. Go now”, said a voice to me. Who was talking to me? Opening my eyes, I was stunned to see Christ standing in front of me. The whole sky was glowing. I thought to myself, “Am I dreaming?” A stream of trust and energy came over me and I stood up and calmly walked the two miles home from the horse stables.

When I got home, my dad was working in the garage of our house. Without thinking I said,

“Dad, Sal from the horses kissed me and told me he wanted me to be his girlfriend.”

“What? I will talk to him right now…” and dad jumped into his truck.

My mind raced in shock. My dad was going to talk to him?? My dad? The same man who had hurt me so many times before? Is he admitting that it is NOT right for a man to kiss and touch a young girl? I am not in trouble?

A sense of trust deepened in my soul. I felt alive and renewed. God heard me. I had just been protected and heard for the first time in my life. The day felt surreal.

I was skipping in the air as I walked to school the following day. School was always a get away from the heavy grey cloud that rested over my home. But, as I stated in the beginning of this story, I learned that some patterns seemed to follow me wherever I went and school was not much different.

Walking through the playground toward my classroom door, I felt more confident than usual, maybe even a bit precious and respected. I was ready for a fresh start. Then I saw Scott with a devilish look on his face. He ran up to me and grabbed my young chest, “tune in Tokyo, tune in Tokyo” as he laughed. I sunk…

But that day something was different. Immediately I decided that after school I would tell my parents. God told me to tell them everything.

As my father walked in the door from work I wasn’t sure how to bring up yet another sexual assault, but the light in my heart filled me with courage to speak. “Mom, Dad, Scott and some other boys at school have been grabbing my chest and saying ‘tune in Tokyo’ for a few years now. I want it to stop.” Dads face bent into a judgmental fit and he scolded me for making things up and being a little ‘slut’. He asked, “Does he do it to the other girls?”

I answered, “Some of them dad, but I am the only one with boobs. I am almost two years older than nearly everyone in my class.”

“I don’t believe you. Hand me the phone.” He replied.

I was utterly humiliated. The blame and anger of being powerless and falsely accused was paralyzing. I watched him proceed to call my friends’ fathers and ask them if my friends had complained about the boys touching them. I felt fear and anger welling inside me.

“God, what do I do?”

The thought “tell them everything” flooded into my heart. “Dad, can I talk to you please?”

As I walked with my dad to the office and closed the door, peace and strength enveloped me like a blanket. “Dad, what if I went to your work and I told all the people in your office what you did to me? What if I embarrassed you like that?”

“That would not be good. You better not do that. No one can ever know about that. You know why I married your mother -- for you, you are my princess.”

“I feel like you are telling all my friends’ dads I am a bad girl when I am not the one grabbing my boobs.”

“I see. Okay, I will stop calling” He responded.

WOW! A rush of gratitude and surprise washed over me again. “God thank you! My dad heard me. He wasn’t going to call anymore of my friends’ fathers and make my friends all uncomfortable too.” This thought and peace filled my heart again.

As I opened the door from the office a wave of energy washed over me. My eyes met my mother’s eyes and she said, “Tell me what happened between you and your step-dad.”

I started to shake as my dad stood behind me and my mother in front of me. I was sandwiched between the two people I feared the most. God told me to tell them EVERYTHING, so I said, “Dad touched me and stuff when I was 11 and things happened at the horses.”

Her eyes narrowed, “I’ve heard this before.”

Yes my heart dares to hope. “Yes, I told you when it was happening. You said I was lying. I wasn’t lying, mom.” Just as I did, my mother felt God’s strength and said to my dad, “Fred, we are leaving.”

STORY II

After seven long years of recovery, my new name is now Antiqua Lisha and I am 21 years old. My life began with an immediate initiation into the misuse of power. When I was 13 God began to break the cycle of abuse in my family, but I began a new cycle of self-abuse, full of fear, rage, shame, blame and rebellion. Now I am tired.

The week after my big “coming out” moment at the age of 13, my mother and I moved out of the house and left my dad. But a few weeks later, they started dating again. I knew that if I had to go back to living in fear I would never be safe again. Completely forgetting how God helped me, I took matters into my own hands and swallowed a bottle of Tylenol. This stunt did get my parents to split and forced my family and me into the state system and into counseling. It was also the beginning of BIG angst between God and me. I felt if God could get me out of that hell so simply, why was I in it in the first place? For the last seven years all I felt was a yearning to run away and to drown the anger that enveloped me for having to live with the abuse, in drugs and alcohol. I used and abused as a coping mechanism to manage my anger and emotions.

Although I escaped the hand of my abusers, the effects and turmoil from being a survivor of sexual and physical abuse continued. Counseling helped with the depression and confusion, but each time I tell my story my anger does nothing but build on itself the abuse starts all over again. It seems like it continues to bring chaos to my life and femininity. All I yearn for is to be gentle, kind and loving like a feminine flower, but my life is one big outburst or chemical escape after another and I am still at a loss on how to overcome it.

It was a typical spring day in Colorado and I was on break from the University of Colorado where I studied music and theater. I spent my summer learning jazz piano and I mountain biked everywhere I could. It was a perfect day to ride my bike the 15 miles to my piano teacher’s home. The sun was shining and I loved how the wind felt on my face. Truly, riding my bike and yoga are two of the only things that make me excited about being alive.

“Ring…” the phone was always ringing in our house. “Hello, is Antiqua there?”

“Yes this is she.”

“Hello Ms. Altair this is Jill from the Clinic, we have the results from your latest pap. Can you come to the office right away? It is very important.”

When I was 16 the doctors told me that due to cysts I probably was not going to be able to conceive and I don’t think I have ever had a “normal” pap smear, so I was not worried at all.

“Sure, no problem. Can I come now? Your office is on the way to my piano lesson.”

“Yes, someone is available to meet with you now. How soon can you be here?”

“5 minutes.” The clinic was pretty close to my house and the bike paths in Boulder are fabulous.

“See you when you get here.” I hung up the phone and jumped on my bike.

I arrived a few minutes later at the clinic and waited for the nurse to take me into a tiny meeting room in the back office. She said, “You have cancer.” It had progressed from the dysplasia I had for a few years. I responded with fierce diffidence; “Of course I do, I could have told you that.” I had very few filters for my emotions and little to no knowledge of my own needs, feelings or desires.

This detachment from myself made it challenging to communicate with anyone. If I could have empathized with what the nurse may have felt from my response, it probably would have been shock; she sensed my walls were up.

She continued on, and informed me I would need a colposcopy (cervical biopsy) and most likely a cone biopsy and radiation therapy. I was itching to get out of the office and run (my natural reaction to challenging situations). Sensing this, the nurse just told me the facts.

As she rambled on telling me how they need to take fast action, I was numb with anger yet furious that my whole life was a pain in my vagina (literally). My mind was racing as I got through the list of blame.

You see, my Grandmother died from ovarian cancer and Planned Parenthood doctors allowed me to get the Norplant (for free) at the age of 17 without asking my mother for permission, and then later refused to take it out after I bled every day for two years. I had cervical cysts that would cripple me in high school and had hemorrhaged several times.

This all began when I started menstruating at the tender age of 10, which came with cramping so bad that every month I missed days of school. The rage and blame that I felt went much deeper than those physical illnesses. I felt like my vagina started ruining my life at 18 months old, which was the first time I was sexually abused, and that it had it out for me ever since. My vagina was full of drama, blame and pain.

As I sat in the little meeting room at the clinic in Boulder Colorado, all this pain was coming to a head: called cancer. As I left, I was more in shock from telling the nurse that I knew I had cervical cancer, than actually having cancer. Why would I say something like that? All my walls totally eliminated the possibility of her comforting me, which left me feeling alone and terrified.

The realization of having cancer set in as I left. A rush came over me as I rode my bike to a friend’s house rather than to piano. The first few friends’ homes I visited were empty, so I rode

along the bike paths of Boulder alone with my thoughts. Even though I had been meditating for years, at this point all I could see was my pain, fear, and the overwhelming sense that I was going to be killed by this body part that had been the cause of all my problems since birth. I continued to ride aimlessly around Boulder for three or four hours until I found my boyfriend at his work and finally shared my news with someone and had a good cry.

I realized that up to that point in my life nearly all of my hardships were sexually based and my vagina was full of cancer and might kill me. I ignored my body and my pain for far too long; this realization was the first wakeup call from my body, which I answered.

“What is wrong with me? I am doing everything ‘right’. I have a regular spiritual practice and I spend time meditating on my chakras. So why is my vagina out to get me again?” These thoughts kept running through my head. “God Why?”

The few weeks following my diagnosis looked like they were from a reality series. My over the last five years were too busy for me and my cancer which left me feeling abandoned. The old war wounds of my childhood were coming up in full force. However, this time I could not party, study or counsel them away. They were my real flesh and blood and it was time to looked at them or face the consequences and possibly die.

I was really nervous about seeing the doctor. The routine physical examinations I could handle, but the surgical procedures scared me to death. I had pretty crazy flashbacks, especially of a single event when I was 11 years old. Without getting into the gory details I will say, a sharp utensil inside me scares me batty. It was possible that I would flip out on the doctors table and have a flashback of being abused. I was afraid I would hurt someone.

A new friend of mine, who was also a gifted herbalist, came out of the blue and literally took my hand. I asked her to come with me to my appointments and surgery. I called the doctor’s office to make sure it would be okay to have someone with me in the room. I explained my history and it seemed the office understood. To prepare for these appointments I had to tell my professors that I would be gone for a while and I also took time off of work.

The morning of the procedure, the clinic called me and cancelled it and asked to reschedule for a week later. This rescheduling confused me because they made it all seem very urgent, but I went along with it. What else could I do? I rearranged my already rearranged schedule and a week later, when we arrived for the rescheduled appointment, I was ready to go.

Jen (my friend) was a huge support, helping me feel grounded and taken care of. Her standing by my side made all the difference. I was mentally as ready as I could be for the procedure. ‘Hi, I am Antiqua and we are here for the cone biopsy.” “Hi, Antiqua, I am sorry to tell you this, but the person who said that Jen could come in with you was wrong. That is not allowed. Also, we are missing an instrument we need to do the procedure so we are going to have to reschedule again.”

My toes were numb and I could feel my fear and frustration come out in one big act of a fit-throwing rage. “What! I had to cancel my life for this appointment, I have cancer! You told me she could come in. What if I kick someone and hurt myself or the doctor? Don’t you care what I am going through?... yahhhhh”

The office told me to find another doctor to help me with my cancer, because they couldn’t risk me calling malpractice after my fit.

Empty and hopeless again, I found myself sitting in the middle of my rented room in north Boulder crying. Again, I begged God to help me, to show me mercy. I was scared to death, all alone, with no money, no free clinic and no family around to help me get through this cancer. The reality that cancer kills set in.

“God, what am I going to do?”

A few days later, I went to my chiropractor’s office. My chiropractor’s office was a safe place, like a second home. As I was crying on the table, feeling sorry for myself, God showed up again.

“What am I going to do doctor?” My eyes shifted to the women lying on a table next to me, as she gazed up unable to help from overhearing my cries and fears; my heart softened. “I am a Naturopathic doctor in the area. I will work with you on a payment plan. I treat women with cervical dysplasia all the time and if you have to have cancer, the cervix is a great place to have it.” Her eyes were so soft and her long dark hair shone of health. She continued looking straight into my soul with caring eyes, “The most expensive part would be the herbs that I had to take on a daily basis and I would need to find someone who could make the cancer tonic for me.”

Yes, God had answered. I am going to work with a naturopath. (I have never really been a Western medicine girl anyway) and I did have an herbalist, Jen (my friend who came with me to my other appointment). Finishing my appointment, I biked straight to Jen’s home. “Would you help me with this tonic and come with me to work with Dr. R.?” Looking in her eyes I felt pure love as she offered not only to help, but to gift me the herbs as well as come with me to my weekly treatments and do energy work.

Over the next 6 months I changed my diet to a strict food combining vegan diet and to be blessed even more, my boyfriend went vegan with me. I drank down this foul tasting black tonic (which was chalked full of love) and saw my doctor for direct cervical treatments weekly. During these treatments Jen and I would do healing work on my first and second chakras and heal the little girl within me who had been crying for attention for years. I also wrote many journals about my story and got to know the workings of my vagina on the inside and the outside in every way possible.

The whole time, I felt closer to the world and life than I had ever before, which was glorious. After about six months a magical thing happened. I allowed my mother to take care of me and she did. She and I were able to re-live my childhood and she got to be my savior and my mother. I flew out to California to let her and another doctor give me their undivided attention for two weeks. They reset my endocrine system and took my body out of being stuck in the fight or flight response. This was the beginning of a new sense of power, peace and centeredness for me. This reset was the beginning of a whole new way of being, a step toward my healing, femininity and sexuality, physically, mentally, and spiritually. Relief came when I got home from California. The next colposcopy I had indicated mild dysplasia, which was the beginning of the end of my hard hitting vaginal/reproductive/hormonal hardships and the beginning of the next chapter of this miracle.

A few months later my long-time boyfriend and I found out I was capable of having children and even though that child did not come into our arms, it was a blessing, and healing will always be in my heart.

After losing the baby I decided to move to California and take some alone time to heal myself. Over the next few years, I changed the way I related to sex, relationships and orgasm, and I began embracing the idea of family.

STORY III

Fast forward five years and I am married and living in Alaska. I can see that my experience with cancer was God’s miracle that healed many emotional and physical blocks from my childhood and restored my body.

What is this? The bathroom floor feels cold on my feet as my eyes stare down at the home pregnancy test. I am pregnant. “Oh my, Oh my!”

My heart is leaping for joy. Are these tests for real? The women in the apartment below me had a few kids so I think she might know. “It is pretty much a for sure thing.” Smiling, she reassured me.

My legs feel weak as I run up the stairs; I have to call my husband.

Fast-forward nine months….

Being pregnant is a very interesting experience. My emotions are running wild and I am craving all the foods that I am supposed to stay away from like wheat and dairy. If I eat any more peanut butter I might turn into a nut. The pressure of my enormous belly is unbearable at 37 weeks and I am so happy it is nearly time to have this baby in my arms and out of my belly.

I have always loved teaching yoga and even at 38 weeks along I am not going to miss the opportunity to share yoga with a class. Today has been a long day. It seems impossible to walk correctly, as I waddle down the stairs into the yoga room. I nervously think to myself “I am not sure if I am going to be able to get back up those stairs, or get back into my car seat, or out of it, again.”

One of my students could see these questions written on my face. “Are you sure you want to teach tonight?”

“You are not looking to good. Are you in labor?” another speaks up.

“I might be in labor. I am not feeling too well. I seriously don’t know.”

Then with all eyes on me “Let’s get you home. We can have class another week.” A class member took charge and the rest of the class agreed.

Although I feel horrible for letting the class down, at this moment a sense of relief washes over me. As I walk uncomfortably back up the stairs I am excited because I am going to hug my baby soon, but honestly I am a bit scared too.

Driving home, the baby is not moving in my belly, is this normal? Opening the door to my house it is all I can do to just sit down on my bed. Worrying about the baby, I reach for the phone and dial the midwife. “Hi, this is Antiqua. The baby hasn’t moved in a while and I am feeling odd.” In a calming and gentle voice, she told me “At this time the baby is settling in to the birthing position. Don’t worry. Just relax and take it easy.”

Sitting back, I feel a great relief, “pop.” What is that sound?

“Jake my water broke.” The baby was coming. I am in labor. Yay!

God, what do I do now?

Over the next 24 hours labor was stop and go. I planned a water birth at home and was not progressing. Literally, all the biopsies from the cervical cancer had formed thick scar tissue on my cervix and it would not let the baby come out.

The midwives had been helping me progress by manually opening my cervix to one centimeter, then two, then three, each stretch one more painful than the last. They gave me herbs and oil to help me along and progress the labor. My husband and the midwives kept telling me I was doing great, but in reality my body just would not take over.

As the hours passed at home, and still no baby, the time to which I would be forced to go to the hospital was fast approaching. My dream and wish to have a natural birth was slipping away. In desperation I agreed to one last attempt to open my cervix so I could have my baby at home. This is when God’s Miracle came full circle. The angel of a midwife that gently stretched my cervix as I pushed with my contractions must have been sent from heaven. Because all the pain from my childhood abuse, my fear of living and dying all came out in one big yell. “….(*&$#(*&@(&$&$...”

“Go now and get in the tub, the baby is coming.” The midwives rushed me.

I waddle as fast I can into my kitchen and into the warm tub full of water that had been waiting for me for the last 28 hours. Push…Push…Push… (Literally 3 pushes)

Then from me, through that part of me that had caused all my pain, heart-ache and suffering, came-life, innocence, and a fresh start. A precious, perfect, amazing, miracle popped out of my vagina and into her loving father’s arms. The impossible became possible. What once was filled with painful memories and scars was now open and the bearer of life.

The days and years that followed the birth of my first daughter-this miracle of miracles-- have been equally healing. Now, that miracle is nine and her sister is seven. I am raising two innocent, well cared for and loved girls. With God guiding me to tell, to trust and to keep asking and seeking His help in all things, I continue to ask the question “what do I do now?” And God continues to answer.

God not only healed my broken body and my broken heart, he healed my family’s secrets and washed them with truth. He healed my step-dad (whom I forgive) and my mother (whom I forgive) and let me start fresh. The cycle of fear ends in my house, as God led me to marry a fabulous father for my girls, ending the cycle of abuse and secrets for generations to come. With God’s grace, I am now helping others to see how amazing God is. He will work miracles of healing for your body, your families and transform your fears, pains and secret patterns into good. Knock on God’s door; ask Him “What do I do now?” He will lead you full circle. What this world does to us, His grace will undo.

Thank you for the honor of sharing this miracle with you. Thank you for being a witness to God’s love for me and therefore awakening to a deeper connection to His love for you. Like my daughters, you too are a miracle of and from God, to this world. Miracles continuously happen in our lives. God is within each of us. Remember this and you will see miracles all around you.

Your life is full of precious, worldly lessons which God works for His good and your good, by filling these lessons with divine insight. Not all of them are good or enjoyable experiences, but all have hidden gems. Your body and mind hold these insights for you to use as tools to lead you to more freedom and confidence. All you have to do is ask God, “What do I do now?”

However, it can be challenging to hear God’s soft whispers of healing, direction and truth; when the circumstances of our lives-- past and present, poison our minds with beliefs that are not God’s truth, but the world’s lies. These beliefs and pains, if not realized and handed to God, continue to express themselves in our bodies and minds, through pain, illness and stress.

Seeking God while healing physically and mentally from cancer and childhood abuse allowed God to teach me exactly how to cut through the chatter and hear Him. He communicates to us in three ways. God guided me to learn about my body, I had to do it the hard way – you don’t have to. God led me to learn how to let Him handle my sadness, guilt, shame and fears and how to release my mind from their captivity. He led me to fast and effective ways to do this, so you don’t have to struggle through trial and error and can learn from my story. God taught me how to listen to Him and trust Him to lead me to a fulfilled life; an approach to life I continue to lean into every day, and I want to share all that He has taught me with you.

Through the wisdom I have been graced with through God’s miracles, I now help people connect, relate and embrace the divine wisdom stored in their bodies, emotions and experiences. You too can recognize your miracles and use them to live your healthiest, happiest and best life. Your own life and your own unique experiences were placed in your path so you can surrender and learn how to love completely the world and people around you. They are also the greatest tools God has given you to know Him through your body and your mind. God will bring your life full circle for good, like He did mine, if you let Him.

Does my story resonate with you? Would you like to embrace your life and tap into the divine guidance of your life lessons? Take my hand and I will introduce you to the three tools God has gifted us all with to be fit, happy and in communion with Him and all things He created. I am here to be of service to you, to teach you what He has taught me. I have a gift for you called “Embrace You,” a course explaining the three tools I call the “Trinity Within.” Learn how to use them to live your most divine life, the life God intended for you to live – Just let me know where to send it by visiting - www.fithappychristians.com

Kathleen Frank Author

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Thursday, April 18, 2013

Questions and answers

Kathleen interviews with Michael Dresser

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Upcoming Project

Full Circle in God's Grace; Three unique stories of my life.

Goodreads reviews for I'm Fat and Nobody Cares