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Doing Damage to the Darkness
I’ve wandered through most of my life trying to figure out where I belong. I was given opportunities as a kid to participate on several athletic teams and tried to establish friendships but the constant moving around was difficult for a kid to maintain close friends. Back then there were no cell phones or email or texting or anything. Only the phone. And honestly, my address changed so frequently, I couldn’t even give a valid phone number until the sixth grade.
My family finally found a place of our own and with my single parent mother as the head of the household, I quickly found myself in the driver’s seat most of the time... without a license. I was 11 and then 12....and forced to babysit my little brother in most of the extra time we had whether it was after school or when my mom worked or went to school or on the weekends when she went out with friends. I was his primary caretaker for several of those pivotal and impressionable years of my life and his.
I had a few really close friends in middle and high school and I believe that was my saving grace. One of those friends was Krista. She understood my chaos. She understood my pain even if she didn’t bring light to it very much. She understood why I wanted freedom from the shackles on my feet and the pain in my heart. She was a true gift from God and I could never be more grateful for her; my hero friend.
As a teenager, I sat on the fence when it came to decisions about faith and rebellion. I wanted to do the right thing but I wanted to do the wrong thing. I wanted to rebel because rebellion gave me control; even if temporary. And temporary control, even when limited, feels incredible. So I skirted the line. I listened at church and wore my Christian t-shirt and went to my Christian concerts and said most of the right things....but I also broke rules, cheated on tests, and snuck out of my house a couple of times to meet a boy. I look back on that life now and wonder how many people saw through my inconsistencies and confusion and how they viewed me. It doesn’t define me anymore as I know the context of my decisions and why I behaved this way. The lying and deceit that came from those in authority over me paved a road I didn’t want to travel publicly, but one I dabbled with in secret. What would it be like to lie about this.....? What would it be like to sneak around...? What can I do to get this boy to like me and show me attention when all I WANTED WAS LOVE AND AFFECTION...?? With no father around, this latter question was quite dangerous and almost landed me in a world of pain.
As an adult, I spent the first ten years messed up. I had constant whiplash from trying to listen to the opinion and ‘wisdom’ of my mother while trying to ‘leave and cleave’ to my husband. The church had an opinion. The secrets my family held about their own dysfunction were messed up....and stepping out of relationship with my toxic mother made life even more messy. Stepping out of those relationships is very difficult and you don’t leave unmarred. You leave with holes in your heart and unanswered questions and a desire for justice and a longing for wholeness and the realization that it....might....never.....come.
The last few years have been spent looking inward, trying to figure out who I am and how I respond to pain and trauma and conflict. I have stumbled through life trying to figure out where she ends and I begin. This has actually been one of the most difficult lessons of my life. You see, when you’re enmeshed with a parent, it is sticky. It is sad. It is horrible. It causes confusion and when you listen to the outside voices you *think* you can trust, you often find they push you further into the hole you’re trying to escape from. Toxic enmeshment with a parent is something I wish on no one. You can’t find yourself. You question every decision. You question your worth. You question whether or not you made the best choice for your parent, while desperately wanting to make the beat decision for YOU. You get lost in the deep waters and when you finally come up for breath, you wish it was the everlasting breath you need to live a life of peace, but you quickly find yourself snatched back down into the tumultuous waters by the very person who took part in getting you there in the first place.
That seems quite dramatic, but it actually IS quite dramatic. It’s a lesson I’m continuing to learn but one I feel like I’m actually overcoming very slowly. I realize that darkness has tried to overwhelm me in the most destructive of ways and has tried to destroy my life. You see, when you are stuck in this type of relationship, there’s not a whole lot of hope for living out your own life and dreams and most of the mistakes you make are more offenses to your enmeshed partner than they are actual offenses to the world.
Healing, though, is powerful. Healing takes the reigns back....even if slowly....and it shows the world what YOU look like. It says a brave and courageous “no” and whispers a shaky “yes” when new opportunities arise. It takes a step away, even if it’s small and even if your legs tremble at the thought. It shines a dim light in the darkness at first....and little by little....it shows more and more of the contents of the dark. It takes the secrets and exposes them. It takes the chaos and brings a bit....more....organization. It takes the sadness and helps you understand it. It takes the pain and offers a balm of healing. What the darkness tries to destroy, the light exposes and diffuses.
I’m tired of the living in the dark of enmeshment. Little by little, I am stepping into myself and offering a piece of ME to the world. This piece looks confusing to some. I mean, when I am bold enough to face confrontation or when I speak my mind about something or when I don’t fight against an obvious wrongdoing, but instead take mental notes regarding a person, I find that I’m healing. You see, *she* would confront. *She* would speak her mind in an attempt to ridicule or hurt. *She* would judge and hurt and speak poorly of someone she didn’t agree with and try to build up a team of ‘haters’ just to justify her stance. And while I realize that I have to be really careful to not let pride creep in....”Well, SHE did this and *I* don’t do that.....,” there is a point where I can realize my changed behaviors and motivations and realize that she has ended there and I have begun. It’s not a rebellious change of behavior, but a true heart change.
And it’s doing damage in the darkness.
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Let’s Not Pretend here, ok?
Yesterday I sat in the schoolroom of our home as I heard the pitter patter of my daughter’s footsteps run up the stairs. At the end of each school day, she sings, “I’m done with school for the day!” to the tune of some song she used to hear each day on her favorite cartoon. The joy. The comfort. The restfulness. The peace. The deep breathing. These are the things my girl knows.
It’s so amazing to look at that little girl with her hair dyed purple and not smile in adoration. Not even just because of who she is but because of what she has been given. This girl is bright, beautiful, kind, compassionate, loving, direct, unafraid (except when it comes to spiders!), spunky, witty, intelligent, and well mannered. She is a seasoned world traveller at the age of 10 and is incredible with people. When I look at her attributes alone, I sit in awe. But if I take it just a step further, I see that this girl has been set up to win. Her life, her circumstances, her parents, her home, her relationships.....she feels safe. And in her safety, she finds herself.....even at the ripe old age of 10.
When I was her age, we were homeless, jumping back and forth between someone’s basement....and my grandma’s house. We were going paycheck to paycheck. My mom was desperately trying to get into a government subsidized apartment, but the waiting list was so long. By this time, I had gone to a new elementary school every year since Kindergarten and I had very few friends. I rarely saw my dad, and if I did, it was short and sweet or marked by some strange drama his girlfriend would bring up. I was a good student, but really missed my favorite teacher from the year before. Life was hard....even when it wasn’t. I just wanted comfort. A safe place. A mom and dad who adored me. Peace. But none ever really came.
The interesting thing about tumultuous childhoods and times of unrest and feeling unsafe is that when one reaches adulthood, decisions must be made. Did I learn about parenting and providing a safe place for my children to learn, make mistakes, and grow? Am I reckless in my behaviors? Do I provide a peaceful home? Do my children feel safe or do I use my hands (or any other mechanisms within reach) to injure or hurt them? Do my children believe I am *for* them? Or am I stuck in this never-ending cycle of looking inward and trying to please only myself? Do I care about their well-being or leave them in the hands of someone else? Am I constantly looking for my value and worth in other people or in other things or can I be content in this place, with these children, doing *their* things?
I’ll admit, I used to struggle with this. I used to struggle with simply finding my “identity” in being a mom. I wanted so badly to be the one who shined....who was adored and seen for what she IS and for what she DID....and I believe that a lot of that is from a childhood of love that was given and taken away like the ebb and flow of the ocean. Love was given when I was obedient, did my chores, made good grades, kept my emotions to myself, and caused no problems. Love was taken when stressful situations arose or when I disobeyed or showed weakness or did not walk carefully enough on the egg shell of a life I was given. Because this was my life, I took that knowledge into my adulthood. “Well, if love can be given and taken away for my actions, thoughts, or feelings, I must follow the social rules. I must do. I must withhold. I must tread lightly. I must be polite. I must not share my feelings. If I do what I’m supposed to do, life will be easier, and people will love me.” Or so I thought.
But as I’ve grown into knowing myself better and recognizing that the way I was raised wasn’t the most conducive to growth and well-being, the more I have tried to UNlearn. I don’t have to go out and do great things to be a great wife. I don’t have to be on every board of directors or coach every team or have a four course meal for my kids in order to be a great mom. I do not have to earn love in this home. It is a safe place for my children to grow and thrive and fall down and get back up and receive grace and mercy and guidance. And it is for me and my husband, too.
Regardless of where we have come from or what has been done to us, we have a choice, friends. Do we want to repeat the story we have been handed or do we want to take the highlighter and the sharpie and the editing tools and re-tell a story of healing, intentionality, growth, kindness, grace, and redemption? Do we want to provide a safe place for those in our care to move forward with the baton they’ve been given and see the wonder and the holy around them because their mom (or dad or aunt or cousin or sister or friend or daughter) fought for a new ending to the story?
My daughter is who she is, not only because of her innermost wirings, but because her mom and dad have fought hard to give her a life of safety and growth and wonder and sacred and holy. May she reflect the love of her Father in heaven and may she know that her parents deeply love her, respect her, honor her, and do their very best to protect her from the world. Her story isn’t over and she has some important decisions to make in her future, but I’m hopeful that this little green eyed beauty will change the world by simply being in it. I am incredibly proud of the young lady she is today and look forward in anticipation to the life she will live. Redemption is real and may I live to tell the story of it.
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I’m just waiting for a revelation...is it ever gonna come?
There’s an old Starfield song, “Tumbling After” that starts off with these lyrics:
The other day when I was driving home my world was shaken
It occurred to me that I had left too many risks untaken
I’m always sitting here just waiting for a revelation
Is it ever gonna come?
Revelation. What is it? And what does it take to have one? Some people tend to say that revelation comes after a life-altering event. Some have revelation on their death beds as they recall all of the things they wish they would have done. Some people have revelation after a person walks out or speaks his/her mind or after the abuse just keeps on going and something bad happens....sometimes it’s in marriage. Sometimes it occurs in other relationships. Sometimes it’s a job that just sucks you dry.
For me, revelation came when I realized the behaviors of those in authority over me never shifted. The shift that comes when a teen enters adulthood is a natural progression. It’s like a baton....it’s passed on and the runner must run. Alone. But mine never came. My every decision was held under a microscope, scrutinized. Regardless of what I tried to do, I had to still ask for permission. I still had a curfew. I walked on egg shells and never had a voice. I was mocked or ridiculed for sharing my thoughts I tasted freedom when I went away to college but was still even squelched then with mixed messages about what I should have done or how I should have acted. I know this isn’t always a bad thing. Having parental oversight is not always bad. Until it is.
I know many people who have strong families. They are given freedom to make choices and pay the natural consequences of those decisions. I had friends whose parents were still married and thriving. I had friends who had incredible relationships with their parents. But not me. I was terrified of mine. I was terrified of criticism or harsh words or painful encounters with my mom. And I was afraid of further rejection from my distant father. What I longed for was to be seen....heard....understood...and for kindness and encouragement and a push out of my comfort zone...a baton to be passed....a rite of passage to be recognized. But enmeshment and codependency will have none of those. They want to entangle and shackle....and sometimes strangle.
It wasn’t until I met my husband that I understood what honor and love and respect look like. He honored me. He respected me. He listened to my dreams. He enforced my decisions and lovingly asked questions or spoke truth to get me to see something from a different point of view. When I found myself faced with a difficult decision regarding my mom, he stood strong by my side. He helped me come out from under the table and stand on my own two feet. When I wanted to run in the direction of my mom (why? codependency does that....), he reminded me that I have a voice and my voice mattered. When I wanted to shy away from the truth or skirt around it, he reminded me that what was done to me as a child was TRUE and that true things can be spoken; even when the oppressor doesn’t want to hear them.
So....my revelation came in the form of a man. A strong, honorable and amazing man. The man I get to walk this three-legged race of life with. It took years and years and years of not knowing my value and worth but he helped me up, offered strength in his arms, his heart, and his mind, and reminded me of who I am. I am Nickole Rose Huffman. Daughter of a King and wife to my hero.
My encouragement here is to listen to the voices around you. Not the deafening ones that try to hurt or suppress or oppress or strangle you. Listen to those voices that when used, give you permission to exhale....
Listen for the voices that bring you comfort, peace, and a safe place. Look around you and find the beauty that surrounds you; the moments where you think, “I could stay here....right here....forever.....” and listen and look for those more and more. The negativity will run at you recklessly, seeking to destroy you or discourage you or stunt your growth but when you are around even one encouraging person, cling to it. Listen to it. Hold it tightly to your chest and never let it go.
Has your revelation come?
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Where do you get wisdom?
Many years ago, I was sitting in a National Youth Worker’s Convention and a man appeared on the big stage. He was attractive, well-spoken, and appeared to be highly intelligent. He had a stage presence that drew you in...he would lean in at just the right time or gather his hands together or move in a way that told the story he was trying to tell in a visual manner.
He spoke about the Prayer Closet. The Tallit. I sat on the concrete floor for better positioning. I wanted to listen and have space to spread out to take notes. The next thing I know, this speaker is talking about pain and grace and mercy and prayer and being able to access our Divine Creator ANYwhere we are. He spoke truth to my soul about a God I had known, but never fully understood. God’s mercy extended to ME. HE loves ME. The broken girl with a broken story was adored by her Maker. I was bent over and a puddle of tears was on the floor in front of me. Snot was dripping down my face. Makeup smeared all over me. But I did not care. I had been lamenting and grieving at the foot of my Maker. I have been forever changed.
Since that time, this speaker has been instrumental in helping me understand ancient tradition and language. I took in the teachings and began to see God differently than I had before. Legalism once shattered my perception of God and I saw my life as a works-based one that needed to earn the love of God. I needed to have good, wholesome language, be kind to everyone, remain pure until marriage, walk a fine line, and always respect my elders. Bill Gothard seminars were the go-tos each year. While those things could be helpful to me as a person, they always made me think my value and worth were found in ‘doing,’ which is exactly the messages I was getting at home. “DO” this and I’ll love you. The message was loud and clear.....until I met Rob Bell.
Nooma videos. Sermons. Books. They made me WANT to dive into the Bible; to see it from a new and fresh perspective.
I do not care what people think of his newfound (or maybe previously believed....but never shared) theology. His Love Wins book drew such controversy and cost me a lot of relationships for simply saying I was interested in hearing what he had to say about it. No one ever asked me; they only assumed I thought it was Gospel. They thought I was a heretic and getting my wisdom from one. If only they knew....and were bold and courageous enough to ask. But that is a different story.
Honestly, I gain wisdom from a great deal of things and people. My husband is a wealth of wisdom. His grace, understanding, ability to see things differently, and his love for people help me see the world with fresh eyes. Authors help me chew on things and look at them from a different perspective. My Pastor brings his best each week to help us understand how to overcome adversities or work through anxiety or how to walk through this life with Jesus as our focus. Friends....I have a few who are some of the wisest people I know. They offer insight and understanding, pointing me to a different place to look since my muddled view is not always accurate. If I’m honest, even social media accounts help me see that I’m not alone in my struggles or they serve to challenge me deeper in relationship with Jesus. Each brings perspective. Each brings history. Each brings wisdom. Each brings a different understanding of the world. Each is valuable in its own way.....and I view none of them as the tell-all Gospel of the world. You can have your hang-ups with authors. You can have your hang-ups with pastors. You can have your hang-ups with friends or spouses or other people with different ideations and perspectives. And each one gives you and me the ability to chew on, study, wonder, pray, and seek guidance from the only One whose words matter.
I’m so thankful for Rob Bell’s voice. I’m thankful for his deeper desire to understand culture and Biblical references and to share them with others. I am so challenged by them and not in a way that questions whether hell is real (I mean, that book was just his platform to question...) but in a way that makes me want to dive deeper in relationship with Jesus, the One who meets me ANYwhere I go.
Where do you get YOUR wisdom? Who speaks and you listen? Who gets you to think and chew and dig deeper because they simply challenge you beyond your current position? Who shares such deep wisdom that you find yourself in a puddle of your own tears and snot, finally, for the first time, seeing your value and worth just a bit more?
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New and noteworthy
I am here and finally submitting my first set of ideas.
I’m just a woman sitting here at her laptop, hoping to inspire, challenge, and encourage others to get up....to stop looking at the top of the barrel from the bottom, and to work toward their own journey of healing.
I definitely don’t pretend to know what I’m talking about...but my hope is that my life experiences will help me navigate this life and maybe help someone else along the way.
So...here we go. Hi. I’m Nickole. I am the wife to an incredible, honorable, sexy, creative, compassionate, loving, gracious, merciful, and loyal man. I am mama to an amazingly talented, witty, hilarious, wildly handsome, and athletic boy and a hilarious, stunning, artistic, and incredible girl. I don't deserve this life I’ve been given, and should statistics always hold true, I would be in a completely different boat, living a completely different life. But here I am. And here is where I am most grateful.
I hope to write and encourage others to stand up for themselves, to find power in telling their stories, and to take steps forward in healing. I believe there is SO MUCH POWER in story telling and learning to find our voices. I felt for so long that I could not speak my story because it would be hurting those in it; those who used their positions in my life to cause harm. But what I found was that by suppressing it and holding it in, I was just moving from trigger to trigger, reacting to every single situation that arose, instead of working through it as an element of healing. I grew up in a toxic environment and have had a lot to UNlearn, but I never would have been able to move in a forward direction had I not trusted people in my community who would listen without judgment, showing empathy and mercy, and being willing to ask hard questions to help me navigate, learn the value of truth telling, and take the first steps toward wholeness. Ultimately, my strength and courage come from Jesus, who has very clearly shown me that my life is not to remain stagnant....that despite my feelings of worthlessness and guilt and shame, He has grabbed my hand and told me to get up. “Talitha Koum.” Those words resonate loud and clear. “Little girl, I say to you, ‘Get up.’” I am rising. Sometimes I fall, but I am rising. There is a life of wonder and a God of all things holy who longs to show me the adventure and life He has promised to me.
Let’s do this. Let’s navigate our truth and learn to speak it.
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Ethiopian Airlines.
July 19th had arrived and after many text messages back and forth between Rebecca and me and threats from her husband to take care of her ( i kid...sort of... ha ha), Greg, Josiah, Samara, and I picked up Rebecca at 3:30am from her home to head to the airport.
It was a 6am flight and after a cup of coffee and something light to eat, we boarded the plane to head to Dulles. The plane to Washington was TINY and an attendant was adamant that we should have checked in our backpacks because they would NOT fit under the seats in front of us. It was quite entertaining, really, because they were FINE. They met the guidelines for carry-on luggage yet every time she walked by, she would comment on it and try to get us to somehow adjust our bags and slide them further under the seats in front of us. The poor people in front of us....probably felt goosed with the bags being slid under their seats so much. I wanted to slip the girl a 5 dollar bill with my apologies after the flight. Thankfully, eye contact wasn't necessary after the continuous apologies whispered in her direction.
We landed safely in Washington and had a short layover before one of the longest flights of my life.
The flight was smooth....the attendants gorgeous....the food not too bad....the sunset and sunrise gorgeous...the views spectacular.....the mountains intriguing....and for a girl who cannot sleep on a plane, it was way too long. I sat on the aisle seat, Rebecca in the middle, and a pretty wife, mama, and photographer was headed with others, including her adorable mama, to Ethiopia, to serve.
I tried....like desperately tried....to sleep but with no luck. I tried to read to see if exhaustion would set in and I would sleep but nothing. I tried watching a movie....nothing.
Thousands and thousands and thousands of miles and many hours later, we land in Ethiopia. Praise.The.Lord.
I am one who is not easily intimidated by her surroundings but I will say that Ethiopia sort of caught me off guard for a bit. I am not really certain what I expected it to be but there were so many different people and the currency was different and the environment unfamiliar and I was so darn exhausted, it took a bit to just ease up a bit and chill out.
We walked around the shops for a bit and then I crashed on a bench for a while because our flight had been delayed for too long. Thankfully, that cat nap was enough to put a hop in my step. I then went to the restroom to change and wash my face. I felt pretty darn gross.
Rebecca, on the other hand, was just as adorable as ever. She was able to nap and spent some time coloring on the plane and engaging Jamie. Rebecca and I are very different in how we unwind and process things and this flight was the first time I got a glimpse into Rebecca’s preferences and personality. It was super cool. Rebecca is super cool.
Next stop.....Entebbe, Uganda. whoop whoop!
[a few photos to enjoy!]








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dreams...
Our family lost our previous home in a flood back in 2008 and we have been dealing with the repercussions of that catastrophe for the past seven years. From dealing with mortgage companies and flood insurance to purchasing new items and then having a baby in the mix of that, things in the “ personal credit department” were not doing so well. Because of this, I have been working diligently to get the errors corrected, credit scores changed, and scores settled. Sadly, at the beginning of 2015 when we believed our paid off debt would have drastically raised our credit score, we found that the mortgage companies from the flood were STILL incorrectly reporting and had been for SEVEN years. I disputed our credit information only to find that they were respond with even more false information that would make our credit scores DROP significantly. It was exasperating. It was exhausting. I was so angry....because I thought that *this* year would be THE year that we moved on from the flood and built or purchased a home of our own instead of renting a very small condo.
It was time to sign our lease and I was dragging my feet so much....because I did not want to live in the condo another year. I wanted a home of our own to nest....to enjoy....to paint or do whatever we wanted to....because it was OURS. I only had a few days left to sign the lease for the upcoming year and I just needed to get outside.....to walk and talk it out with God.
To make a long story short, I expressed my sadness and frustration with Him and told Him why I really wanted a home of my own. I had no intention of being stingy with it. I wanted a place to share with my family and with friends. I shared a great deal of things with God about what I hoped for in a home---and was even very specific with the number amount I wanted to spend on the mortgage and on a monthly payment.
The next week, Greg and I signed the lease. I was uneasy but knew I had at least talked it out and that since no further plans were made, we needed to be responsible and do what was best with what we really did know.
A month later, a house went on the market that wasn’t too far from the condo and it was on land and seemed like a prime location for our lifestyle. We visited the home and knew that it wasn’t the right place for us. But with the curiosity of this house came more curiosity to see a house I had “saved” on my Realtor.com app for a couple of months.
Little did we know, we would be purchasing this home just two months later and that the creditors would hear my plea and correct the information, causing our credit scores to jump in excess of 40 points! We also found that the EXACT amount that I had hoped to pay for the mortgage is the number we settled on. Many crazy and super cool things lined up with the house and I’m super stoked about them.
I was nervous about the lease we had just signed but was floored when the landlord extended such grace and love to us and allowed us to cancel the lease we had just signed and extend our current one for ninety days.
The catch: we would close on our new home on July 17th and I would leave for Uganda on the 19th.
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Uganda or Bust.
Man...I can’t believe that I had the honor and privilege of going to visit my friends in Uganda again this year! It all came about when I was talking to Greg early on this year about my desire to go back to Uganda....and by the time I was finished sharing my heart with him, he smiled and said, “well, the family won’t all be able to go but if *you* want to go, we will make it happen.”
And because Greg is a man of his word, I knew it would happen.
I had a friend who had expressed a genuine interest to go with me so I contacted her to see if she could go....and due to scheduling conflicts, she was unable to. I was so sad that she couldn’t go with me....
After several others expressed interest and yet obstacles to going, I sort of resigned to the idea of going with a friend and was determined to still go. About a week or two later, just days before I purchased my ticket, I got a random text message from my friend, Rebecca, that read, “Hey lady...just heard you might need a travel companion this summer?”
Of course, I had no idea where she had heard this....but I knew that her heart and passion for Africa was beautiful and that she had a heart for missions.
Over a series of conversations and texts, it was determined that Rebecca and I would travel together. Thankfully, I had a lot of the details already ironed out because I had begun planning the trip. From the flight to the drivers to the locations to the jobs we would be doing, most of it was pretty well lined up....so when Rebecca committed, it was pretty easy from there to move forward.
I was really excited to travel with Rebecca.....sad and anxious to leave my family.....and super stoked to get my feet back on the red dirt of Uganda.
But what I didn’t know at the time is all of the craziness that would ensue over the next few months....
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