The Road Already Traveled

By Rev Barbara Scott

Barbara brings a powerful message of HOPE and Healing to all those who have suffered abuse and injustice in their lives! She has been through every kind of abuse imaginable in her life, and God has brought her through it all. Whe she was young she had to find ways to cope. That included building a brick wall and shielding herself off from the world. When she began her psychotherapy she realized the old coping skills were no longer necessary. With the help of her therapist she learned new skills appropriate to being functional in the world. She has applied these life skills, which have improved her quality of life immensely.

. Barbara's faith and trust in Almighty God have proven to be her greatest strengths. She believes that anything is possible with God and that nothing is difficult for Him. It doesn't matter what you've been through in your life, God is bigger than any problem or situation.

Barbara has become victorious and a conqueror, with the strength and power that only comes from Almighty God. She is no longer a victim. She worships and praises God every day for what He is doing in her life. Hallelujah! She is living proof that God can carry someone through the worst times, and they can come out a víctor, better than they ever have been before.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rev Barbara Scott
• Release date: Jul 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386867067

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Dedication

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This book is dedicated to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Without Him who gave me life by breathing His Spirit into me, I would not be here now.

About the Author

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Barbara Scott has lived in Washington State her entire life. She was married for almost 20 years before divorcing her husband. She has two children, Allyson and Sandra.

Barbara is an ordained pastor with a ministry, which enables her to travel worldwide calling people to seek the Lord. Barbara has written several plays, which are now published, as well as two books of poetry. She is currently working on her second book.

In her spare time, she loves to golf, canoe, and go hiking with her two Standard Poodles, Tucker and Sophie.

Table of Contents

Dedication

About the Author

Introduction

Chapter I - In the Beginning

Chapter II - My Grade School Years

Chapter III - My Teenage Years

Chapter IV - My Twenties and Thirties

Chapter V My - Forties Chapter

Chapter VI - My Fifties and Sixties

Chapter VII - New Seasons

Chapter VIII - What Other People Have Seen

Chapter IX – Traveling Thru Time

Chapter X – Barbara’s Journey

Chapter XI – A Glance at Barbara’s Journey

Chapter XII – Barbara’s Path to Victory

Introduction

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Even as a little girl, I knew about God, because my maternal grandmother had introduced me to Jesus when I was little. God’s call was on my life from the time I was born; however, from the time I was very young, I suffered many types of abuse at the hands of those who should have been loving and protecting me. As the years went by, I found that the abuse was affecting many areas of my life, especially my relationships. As I got older, I also made some poor choices.

I decided to write this book, so that I could bring HOPE and ENCOURAGEMENT to others who may have been through similar forms of abuse. God allowed circumstances and brought people into my life who could help me to live the life of an OVERCOMER.

My faith and trust in Almighty God has proven to be my strength. I believe that anything is possible with God. Nothing is too difficult for Him! I have become more than a conqueror, through the power of the Holy Spirit at work in my life. For years, I made choices as a victim, but I am no longer a victim. I am now victorious!

I give thanks to God every day for what He is doing in my life. He is an awesome God; and He has strengthened me, delivered me, and brought me through many things. As you read my story, you will see that I am living proof that God can bring you through terrible circumstances, and in the end, life can be better than you ever dreamed that it could be. If God could do it for me, He can do it for you, too!

Chapter I

In the Beginning

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I feel this chapter is appropriately named as it reminds me that God is in control of all of creation. In Genesis, it says: In the beginning. My life has been such that I have survived so many obstacles. Like young trees in the forest, my very survival depended upon my ability to rise above all the adversities and hardships within my life. I feel it was God’s plan for me to be in this world to affect other human beings' lives in a way that no one else can. Therefore, I give God all the praise, worship, and glory!

I will share some of these adversities and hardships with you, along with some of the good times. I was born post-World War II. Yes, I am a baby boomer! I came home from the hospital to a mom; dad; an older brother, Jim; and a dog named Polly that was a black Labrador retriever and the love of my life instantaneously. Mom used to tell me I was a sunshiny baby; as she put it, eager to greet the day. I was an outgoing baby. Evidently, I was a fussy baby, but only at night when Dad used to get up to change my diaper and put me right back to bed. And I still cried.

When I was around a year old, I was trying to feed myself. My parents would put my spoon and fork in my right hand, and I would drop them. I would then pick them up with my left hand and be able to feed myself. Mom felt there was something wrong with me, and so my parents took me to the doctor, and I was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. The diagnosis stuck so badly that it has caused issues my entire life! It wasn’t until many years later that doctors figured out that I had shaken baby syndrome, rather than cerebral palsy. In my spirit, I knew that it was likely my dad who had done this to me.

When I was eighteen months old, my parents took me to a dermatologist because of a spot on the inside of my right elbow. The doctor determined it was just a spot and could be gotten rid of with dry ice, but after the treatment, that spot grew into a goose egg sized blood tumor. Shortly after that, I had fourteen major operations on my right arm to remove the tumor and all its tentacles. I lost a lot of the inside of my right elbow area. Of course, a huge scar remained. I do remember Mom putting stuff on my arm. I also remember her telling me to go get the red Folgers coffee can, which held all the supplies. I would grab it with my left arm and scoot back into the kitchen to give it to her. Fortunately, I don't remember the pain, although she used to tell me that while she was treating me, I would cry.

From the time I can remember, I just loved our dog, Polly. Mom used to tell me that I wouldn't take naps unless I was settled down between her feet. So, Polly was brought into the house, and Mom laid a on blanket her. I was laid on her side with a receiving blanket, and she wrapped her paws around me as if I was one of her puppies.

When I was first brought home, I was introduced to many of my family members. My great grandmother and my grandmother were often in our home fighting over who would hold me. The thing was that I was always being held by one of them. I was also introduced to my uncle Archie and my aunt Ida. Uncle Archie was a conductor on the railroad, and he would go to work at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. He would come at 9 o'clock in the morning at least six days a week and hold me, bath, dress, and feed me. Mom used to tell me that I would smile, coo, wiggle, and allow my uncle to do absolutely everything with me. When it was evening and she was going to put me to bed, all I did was cry, because the only time she held me was when she was feeding me a bottle. Hum, have a feeling there was something wrong with that scenario. I did the same thing with Dad and Jim.

I was also introduced to my uncle Vic and aunt Marion, shortly after I was born. I first remember Uncle Vic bouncing me on his lap, giggling, laughing, and have a fun time with me. Around the time I was three years old, my aunt Marion and uncle Vic got divorced, and I never saw Aunt Marion again. All throughout my younger years, Uncle Vic would come to visit. He only lived about 90 miles from us. When he wasn't in his veterinary practice, he would come and visit. Always, Uncle Vic would bring me gifts; lots of gifts, beautiful gifts, balls, stuffed animals, board games, a fake fur coat and hat, beautiful dresses, and the like. He also spent a lot of time just holding me, often reading me books or playing ball on the floor with me. He never did bring my brother one thing. I felt very special around Uncle Vic, and he became a surrogate father. I trusted him and loved him very much.

Around the time I turned a year old, my feet were twisted. I wore a brace on the bottom of my shoes for about two years to straighten my feet out. My grandparents were building a new home and a garage. Somehow or other I managed to be outside crawling around with Polly, and I was very close to a cliff. I don't remember getting there. A cement truck that was pouring the foundation for my grandparents’ garage was backing up and kept backing up. The truck was backing right towards me, and Polly was standing there barking very loudly. Thankfully, the driver heard her and stopped the truck. He got out to look and see what she was barking at. His back tires were only a foot and a half from me, I was nearly squashed to death. I thank my God that He had Polly alert the cement truck driver!

I’m not certain when I began having confusion regarding my sexual identity. I can only tell you that when I was about two years old, Mom had Jim and me standing totally naked in the bedroom / living room doorway. I remember her telling me about the differences between us, showing me his body parts and showing him mine. I remember that while she was having this conversation with us  that I was very embarrassed by being naked in front of both Jim and Dad.

As I write this, the feeling washes over me once again. I also remember thinking that if I had what Jim had, I would be treated better. Almost all through my growing up life, I had a short haircut like a boy. I was taken to the barber to get my haircut. The only time I remember having long hair was in the second grade, and I had let my hair grow. All Mom did was want to put curlers in my hair at that age and have me sleep on them overnight. Well that got to be old very fast, so instead letting my hair grow long and showing me how to take care of it, Mom had it chopped right off.

I know there were times in my grade school years when I would stomp around the house like I heard Dad stomping when he would walk. I thought it might make me more lovable. I wished I had been born like my brother, with those body parts instead. I was so beaten-down by my family. I couldn’t say no to anybody; especially to adults. There were absolutely no boundaries about what these people could do to me.

My third and fourth grade years were fairly normal. I played in a cardboard refrigerator box, which had been made into a play house for me in our backyard. Mom took the time out to make curtains for the windows. As a three-year-old, I was thrilled to be able to go outside in the summertime and play in my little house. All teddy bears were welcome; and yes, Polly was too, but no brothers were allowed.

As I recall, Mom was not very interested in allowing me to play with her hair as most little girls do. When I was young, Dad was a surrogate mother for me. Almost every morning after breakfast, He would allow me to play in his hair, which was a military cut! I recall having so much fun trying to make his hair into something that it wasn’t! He was an extremely patient dad at that stage of my life. I also remember him bouncing me on his knees playing horse until both of his knees were very tired. Once again, when I was little, he was very patient with me.

My transportation when I was with Dad was for him to be carrying me around on his shoulders. I would hold onto his hair as we went bouncing along, and it was so much fun. I could talk, and so he would tell me all kinds of stories as we walked across the bridge to Grandpa’s shop and then on up to the barn to feed the horses and cows. Dad would encourage me to engage in the storytelling. I am almost 100% sure that between my grandma H. and my dad, I became the storyteller that I am today.

A short pause... anytime the lights would go out throughout my upbringing, Dad and I would be the ones to pass the time by storytelling. Jim and my mom weren't very good at it. I praise my God for the gift of my grandma H. and my dad in their storytelling abilities! What a gift to be passed on to me, I am so thankful. Of course, I give glory, praise, and thanks to God for making these two people a part of my life when I was young.

Another great memory that I have of my dad is when he would be out weeding the garden or carrying pipe, doing something outside, which required a wheelbarrow. He would scoop me up, put me on his shoulders, and off we would go to get that wheelbarrow where he would put me in it; and on the way, he would roll me out into soft grass or soft soil. I would just laugh and laugh and laugh!

On the other side of my dad's personality was a very ugly man. One day in the summertime, I was playing in the living room when Dad came in to talk to Mom. He would usually pick me up and hold me and love on me, but that day he picked me up and started tickling me. I begged him to stop, because I had to pee. Well, he didn't stop tickling, and so I peed all over him. It was quite a gusher!

What happened next is that he threw me down hard on the floor. He grabbed my right arm right where I had the fourteen surgeries and swung me around, and with the belt he took off of his pants, he whipped the stuffing right out of me. I couldn’t lay down without crying, and I wasn’t allowed to cry, otherwise I was going to get it again! This kind of abuse happened all the time. I had to stuff feelings, wherever they were. That day I made a vow that I would never be ticklish again, and to this day no one can tickle me. I just don't respond.

I spent a lot of time observing Mom and Dad's behavior as well as Jim's. I noticed Dad had two very different sides to him. There was the one that I was telling you about; the fun daddy who was playful with me. There was also a very dark and ugly mean side to him, and when he was in that space, he was very nasty and abusive to me. I also noticed this dark behavior from him more after he had been drinking. Mom and Dad were alcoholics, and I believe the alcohol had something to do with the way Dad reacted and was abusive toward me. I was his scapegoat.

When I was two years old, I was sitting in my highchair at the table near my dad. I was banging a utensil on the table in front of me, and Dad reached over and smacked me around for doing it, because I was making too much noise. I looked up with tears in my eyes, because I knew I was going to get it again if I cried at all. I looked up and looked at my dad, Jim, and my mom. I remember thinking that I wasn’t a part of this family! I was on the outside looking in! I felt so, lonely, sad, abandoned, and rejected. This was the first time that I wished I was dead. If I hadn't been so little, I probably would have found a way to commit suicide.

I was three years old when I first saw snow, and boy did I want to go out and play in the white stuff! So, Mom put my boots, coat, hat, and gloves on me, so I was ready to go outside. That year, we had about four feet of snow. It was deeper, than I was tall. But there's a hitch in this little story, I insisted that Polly had to get dressed up too and go outside. I wouldn’t go out and play in the snow unless she was dressed up too. I remember the look on Mom’s face; she didn't know what to do. Dad suggested she get an old T-shirt, underwear, and old socks to create a makeshift coat for Polly! And so, we went outside, because I was finally happy that the dog would be as warm as me. Mom even made a hole in the back end of the underpants for Polly’s tail. I decided I was going to make a snowman all by myself, and so I did, of course, with Polly’s help.

During the first six years of my life, I was raised on a wood stove for cooking, but we used coal part of the time. So, I got pieces of the coal for the eyes and mouth, and I eventually went inside to get a carrot for the nose. I took off my hat and gave it to my snowman. I was very proud of myself, but my mom wasn't so pleased.

I spent more time with Dad then I did with Mom when I was young, but I