Fawn
“He makes my feet like those of a deer
and stations me upon the heights.”
Psalm 18:33
“Fawning” is a trauma response that doesn’t get much attention. “Fight or Flight” gets most of it. Yet “Fawning,” is, indeed, a trauma response. “Giving in,” to abuse an abuser, is another way to “stay safe.” No, we don’t fight; no, we don’t run. But we do try our best to protect ourselves.
And we feel shame- and can GET shamed for “giving in.”
There is no reason to shame concerning this trauma response.
You did what you needed to do to stay safe.
Our Savior also practiced “fawning…”
“He was oppressed and afflicted, yet He did not open his mouth; He was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so He did not open His mouth.”
Isaiah 53:7
Try seeing yourself, like Him, in that instance.
If you had to “fawn,” for any reason, it was valid.
He knows what you went through.
https://prod.elephantjournal.com/2020/12/the-fawn-discusses-this-4-f-coping-response-to-trauma/
“Pomp and Circumstance” (“Hello, Gentlemen…”)
“Remember those in prison as if you were bound with them, and those who are mistreated as if you were suffering with them.”
Hebrews 13:3
Amazon.com: "Hello Gentlemen...": 9798259016163: Cruse, Sheryle: Books
Native American? (IF You Know? Book Excerpt)
“It is the glory of The Most High to conceal a thing: but the honor of kings is to search out a matter.”
Proverbs 25:2
…Grandma's Confession?
When I was eighteen, I overheard a phone conversation between my mother and my grandmother. Everything changed about our family story.
“Mother, Mother! It’s okay...No, it’s alright...Please calm down...”
Mom tried for the next ten minutes to soothe my distraught grandmother.
When she hung up the phone, I asked what was wrong.
During the conversation, my grandmother broke down and revealed our Native American lineage.
What? Native American? Where did that come from?
Supposedly, this secret had been handed down and hushed for generations.
Grandma’s upset reaction largely had to do with the fact she believed this Native American blood was some kind of blight on the family.
She was ashamed of it.
As Mom told me everything, I felt the rejection and the judgment which flowed generationally.
As the revelation goes, my great-great grandmother was a Native American orphan, discovered and claimed by a white family during one of the Dakota Wars of the late 1800’s.
There was no written documentation; this orphan had no birth certificate.
According to family lore, this two- or three-year-old girl was discovered alone in a field. She was then “rescued” by white people who raised her as their own.
However, this orphan was old enough to love and miss her real parents and tribal family.
But her “white” family were neither supportive nor encouraging on that matter.
Because of the stigma attached to being an “Indian” back then, my great-great grandmother was forbidden to talk about any memories she had concerning her Native American background.
Her new white “parents” named her “Helen.”
(Not her real name).
They stressed assimilation.
Great, here we go again, with assimilation. What could go wrong?
She was supposed to blend in and be “white.”
But, no matter what she did or said, she could never be “white enough.”
And, unable to forget the memories of her real family and tribe, Helen sobbed herself to sleep.
Her white family, trying to pacify her, gave her penny candy to cheer her up.
(I personally wonder if this was the start of disordered eating patterns that have played out within the generations of my female family members, landing, eventually, on me).
But, of course, no one ever discussed the root cause of her sadness.
So many questions arose in me about this situation.
What exactly happened?
Was everyone in her tribe, indeed, killed?
Was my great-great grandmother rescued?
Or was she stolen by this white couple?
Did they play a role in the killing of her biological family members?
It is impossible to know what happened.
But the pain resulted, nonetheless.
So, I already had the experience of witnessing my grandmother’s shame about our family’s Native American bloodline.
But was that the root, the actual “secret,” or was there more to it?...
Copyright © 2026 by Sheryle Cruse
The Band Aid Approach (“Hello, Gentlemen…”)
“Remember those in prison as if you were bound with them, and those who are mistreated as if you were suffering with them.”
Hebrews 13:3
Amazon.com: "Hello Gentlemen...": 9798259016163: Cruse, Sheryle: Books
In His Image? (IF You Know?)
“This is the book of the generations of Adam. In the day that The Most High created man, He made him in His own likeness.”
Genesis 5:1
If You Know?: Cruse, Sheryle: 9798272042019: Amazon.com: Books
You can call me “Flower…”
Spring always puts me in the mood to watch the animated Disney classic, “Bambi.” I admit it, I’m a sucker for those cute little critters.
I have a soft spot for Flower, the bashful skunk who befriends our famous deer. I think my favorite scene in the movie is when these two characters encounter each other for the first time, hanging out in a flower patch. Ever the curious and constantly- learning fawn, Bambi is in the middle of learning about his environment. He just recently learned the names a butterfly and a flower.
And that brings us back to our cute little skunk. Upon bumping into Flower, nose to nose, Bambi, with great joy and enthusiasm, blurts, “Flower!”
Thumper, a rabbit character friend to our lead critter, cracks up at this “mistaken identity,” immediately trying to set Bambi straight. But he doesn’t get to finish his statement, as our cute skunk interjects, “He can call me Flower if he wants to. I don’t mind.”
Awwwh! Adorable.
And so, from that point on, our little aromatic friend is christened, “Flower.”
Think of how much easier it would be if we, male or female, could see ourselves as special and beautiful flowers. Yet how many of us struggle to see our valuable identity, as cherished creations of an incredible Creator?
Most of us do not see, let alone, feel, we are, indeed, like the beautiful flowers popping up everywhere in spring.
Most of us don’t feel special in our lives.
And because of those negative feelings, self-destructive behaviors like eating disorders, self-injury and substance abuse come in to try to mask and soothe our wounds. We believe the lie and then spend all our energy, time, and thought into rejecting our natural state: beautiful and wonderful. The low self-esteem, with all its torturous lies, becomes the dominant image. Scripture reminds us of the power of our self-perception in Proverbs 23:7:
“For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he...”
But The Most High doesn’t just leave us with that potentially dismal revelation, with no image to draw from. No. Instead, He, repeatedly, tells us who we are. But it’s up to us to believe or reject that information. And yes, throughout scripture, Elohim frequently links us to such beautiful creations, like doves and flowers. Just check out the Song of Solomon.
“I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys...”
Song of Solomon2: 1-2
“O my dove…let me see your form…for your form is lovely.”
Song of Solomon 2:14
Known as the book in the Bible, depicting a love relationship between two besotted young lovers, it’s also regarded as the relationship between us and Elohim. God is the lovesick groom, passionately pursuing His beloved bride. And yes, it gets pretty steamy.
But the overall tone of the book is how Our Father views us. Just look how He speaks to us!
“Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.”
Song of Solomon 4:7
“Thou art beautiful, O my love...”
Song of Solomon 6:4
So, by this revelation, why can’t we see ourselves as the incredible, beautiful, wonderful creation The Most High has purposed us to be? It’s nothing we need to do, to acquire our value; there’s nothing we can do to make Our Father love us. Our special uniqueness and love from Him are already there!
You may not have had the experience of seeing yourself as a beautiful flower in your life. You may not have had the experience of feeling valuable, wonderful, and precious. Perhaps things like abuse, bullying, and trauma have struck your life. I am so sorry for your suffering, that you were denied those assurances; you deserve to know and feel how special you are- especially, how special you are to Elohim.
But you can choose to see yourself differently today. You can choose to agree with His view of you. Again, it’s who you already are. There’s nothing you can do to acquire your worth and loveable standing. No eating disorder, no behavior, no material possession, and no amount of money, achievement, or status can create your value. It’s redundant. You’re valuable as is. You already are this!
“…Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if Elohim so clothe the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?”
Matthew 6:28-30
And, if you can’t quite “get there” yet, you can start, right now, with your faith and build upon it. Daily affirmations have become more of the rage recently in positive thinking and achieving results. Why not, then, apply His Word, to yourself, as the ultimate affirmation?
“As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
As the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish,
so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater,
so is my word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty,
but will accomplish what I desire
and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.”
Isaiah 55:9-11
You may not be there yet, but are, indeed, going “from glory to glory” (2 Corinthians 3:18). Don’t give up on yourself. Allow The Most High’s Word to seep into you; allow it to reveal your true identity!
Your life experience may have left you feeling like an unwanted skunk, but I believe, with Our Father, you can experience your true, incredible identity. And I believe it will only be a matter of time before you, yourself, repeat our favorite little skunk’s word:
“You can call me Flower if you want to. I don’t mind.”
Be blessed and blooming, in every area of your life!
Copyright © 2026 by Sheryle Cruse
Cancer: So Musical and Dramatic:
“My times are in your hands...”
Psalm 31:15
I knew cancer would be scary and life-altering. But I didn’t know it’s also be so musical and dramatic.
I was diagnosed with Breast cancer in 2017. And my Type- A personality took the news and ran with it into all kinds of worst-case scenario directions. There’s no denying cancer amplifies the sheer drama of life, death, L’Amour, loss.
And, if you are a drama queen like yours truly, the heightened effect will show probably up in the music and films you ingest.
Observe.
A song like “It’s All Coming Back To Me Now,” whether Celine Dion or Meatloaf belts it out, is a “danger: high voltage” song for the diagnosed and their loved ones. I identified with it immediately.
In both music video versions of this song, this epic scale of mansions, candelabras, thunderstorms, and the haunting presence of the departed, on the lover left behind, can send one into over-the-top- drama. It sent me there, anyway. Extreme caution here.
And then there’s Queen. Two heart-wrenching sob fests include, “Who Wants to Live Forever?” and “These are the Days of Our Lives.”
“Who Wants to Live Forever?” was written specifically for the 1980s film, “The Highlander.”
The movie’s theme deals with an immortal man who becomes all-knowing and all-powerful. The downside? Even though he cannot die, he is not invulnerable to losing people he loves; he has to watch them die, one by one, as each era passes away.
Living forever means little if you have to endure it without the loved ones who mean the most to you.
“These are the Days of Our Lives,” likewise, is another soul-ripper.
Again, written and performed by Queen, it is probably best known as lead singer, Freddie Mercury’s last recording before he succumbed to HIV in 1991. Its lyrics are every bit the reflective, end-of-life thoughts about, spoiler alert: meaningful love relationships.
Again, use caution viewing the dramatic, black and white music video. With Mercury at his most emaciated, it is a stark portrayal of reality, especially when that reality is “I’m going to die and I love you.”
They say music is a spirit, one which teleports us, seduces us, inspires us. And I think there’s a lot of truth to that. How many of us can remember where we were and what was happening whenever we hear a particular song?
But all of this drama is not limited to music. Oh, Heavens, no! We must not forget the genre of film.
I have my go-to tear-jerkers: “Love Story,” “Wuthering Heights” (the 1930s Lawrence Olivier and Merle Oberon version) and “Terms of Endearment.”
No surprise here, the theme is someone dying and some element of deep, abiding and tortuous love. So much fun. Where’s the popcorn? We need popcorn and Junior Mints.
Film doesn’t register nearly as intensely as music does for me in this capacity, but it does register.
It deals with identification, the main goal of any filmmaker telling his/her story. Grab that audience; make them identify with and feel your characters.
Films about love and loss corner the market on that objective.
Since my 2017 diagnosis, music and film are not utilized just so I can make myself cry and feel bad about my circumstances.
No.
Rather, through the filter of the lyricist or the character, I can explore my own cancer realities. What would I do if I were this song’s or film’s particular person?
And it’s not always the dying character, either. It’s also those who are the left behind.
For me, there is a therapeutic value to going to these dramatic resources. Music and film serve as conduits. They trigger and awaken.
Am I a glutton for punishment? Possibly.
But I think it has more to do with processing. I’m tapping into questions, potential realities, and attempting to face my situation. Yes, I often use my imagination (uh-oh) and think about my loved ones. How are they doing? What would their reactions be if/when I died?
But it’s more than that. It is the realization that I may be nowhere near coming to terms with and experiencing all I will go through, concerning cancer. And recognizing, when, not if, we will be separated is frightening.
It’s easier to accept that if death is a lon-n-n-n-g way off. It’s more painful if it’s coming quicker, and without asking for any permission.
I’m trying- and have tried- to have conversations with my loved ones about these film-and-music-inspired mortality thoughts. They run for the hills whenever they can. No, it’s actually just the nearest parking lot. But, not surprisingly, it’s not their favorite subject matter. However, what if we do need to go there? What then?
Right now, I may be facing recurrence. I try not to get ahead of myself there. But mortality thoughts pop up. Life and death. Scripture addresses, soothes, comforts, inspires.
And I’m still fussy me.
The Most High knows all about that.
So, there I am.
With real questions. Real possibilities. Left with not just a song or a movie.
What about you? Do you examine the possibilities, the variety of outcomes? Do you process, face, make meaningful sense of and accept what is happening to you in your life? Where does Faith come in?
Your life is very much an important song, very much an important movie. And you are the diagnosed star.
The Most High will guide you through, and utilize whatever He chooses to reach you, to get your attention, and to help you through.
Let’s pray.
Abba-
I come to You, in The Name of Your Son, My Savior, Yahshua.
You know the thoughts.
You know the reality, as it attempts to convince me of its hopelessness.
And You also know Who You are. You are in control.
Of everything.
Of everything concerning me.
And You know that right now, I feel so out of control.
Help me.
Help me, thought by thought, no matter how scary, painful, intense, dramatic, and hopeless they may be.
Forgive me for thinking that I am too hard for You to deal with.
That’s ego; That’s pride. And it’s untrue.
Just meet me and help me, here and now, for starters.
Help me to walk with You from there.
Thank You for loving me, for being in the middle of my situation.
I receive Your Loving help now, by faith.
Amen.
Copyright © 2026 by Sheryle Cruse
The Name is “Gentlemen”
“…‘Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine.’”
Isaiah 43:1
Why is it so much easier to call “them” animals” or “monsters?”
The Most High sees- and calls- them differently.
“Remember those in prison as if you were bound with them, and those who are mistreated as if you were suffering with them.”
Hebrews 13:3
Amazon.com: "Hello Gentlemen...": 9798259016163: Cruse, Sheryle: Books
Is Life More Than Food? (Thin Enough)
The First Diet (Thin Enough Book Excerpt)
…I remember mom coaxing me into my first diet. All I ate for days straight was pineapple. Al-o-o-ha! It took me at least a good ten to fifteen years before I could enjoy the fruit again. But I trusted Mom. She knew best. After all, I’d seen her go on many diets before. I thought, “If I do this, then I’ll be okay. If I do this, then I’ll make things better.” A diet was the answer.
“40% of 9-year-old girls have dieted.”
—Susan Ice, M.D., Medical Director, The Renfrew Center http://www.renfrew.org.
… My first diet ended almost when it started, beginning an endless dieting rollercoaster. Diet after diet would start with this angelic-choir Hallelujah moment, followed by this new revelation that “This is the diet. Diet ye in it.”
Oftentimes, Mom and I would treat dieting as a buddy project. Mom and I would always start on what day? Monday! Yes, Monday was always the day of the fresh start, the answer. Whenever Mom and I were inspired to go on a diet, we’d have one last Sunday blowout, eating all of the “bad food” to get it out of our systems. We were ready to begin our new lives!
Question: Do you believe there are foods that are “good” foods and others that are “bad” foods?
On Monday, there would be commitment and enthusiasm! We’d throw out all the junk food and swear it off forever. We’d institute an exercise program, complete with graph paper and gold stars. Together, we would begin arm circle exercises, bicycle kicks and sit-ups. Looking back, I find it fitting that these exercises were all movement and no destination. We were moving alright, we just weren’t going anywhere. There would also be the measurement, weighing, and counting of ingredients and calories. Mom and I even had our own little notepads, recording our daily menus.
We could usually keep it up for two or three days. Monday was a great start, but every day after it led to our downfall. With each passing day, the Hallelujah choir, singing the praises of our new diet, was replaced by the songs of our siren stomachs, luring us with praises of forbidden food. Gradually, our written record of “baked potato with pad of butter and carrot sticks” for lunch simply became “potato” (as in chips). Mom and I couldn’t bring ourselves to write down the truth, the whole-bag-of-potato-chips truth and nothing-but-potato-chip truth. I couldn’t understand why it didn’t work. Mom and I did everything right. (Everything except pray and trust in God). We had measured everything, except why we were really doing this.
“All the ways of a man are pure in his own eyes; But the Lord weighs the spirits.”
—Proverbs 16:2
Our buzzphrase was, “When we get down to our right weight…” Of course, that must mean we were at our wrong weight. We tried, but eventually, chocolate cake, potato chips and French fries’ invitations were too strong.
They knew our names, and frequently sent us messages:
Chocolate cake kept in touch, “Come on, just one bite. Look how sweet I am.”
Potato chips were always friendly and social. “Look how crunchy and satisfying I am.”
And of course, the one that always worked with me…
(Any food whatsoever): “You’ll feel better with me. Honest. Come on. You knowI still love you.”
The Blessings of the Black Cat Cafe
