Possessed of a Different Spirit

[sawdust]

I was born in Adelaide of English parents who immigrated to Australia 6 years before my birth. I was the fifth of 5 girls, the eldest being 18 years older than myself. We were a lower working class family without frills but had sufficient to get by. It was not a religious home but concentration was on the value of family and caring for one another. However, my earliest memories are not of my family, but of Another.

I do not remember a time when I did not know God. At the time I did not have the word god in my vocabulary but I was always aware of One who loved me. Always loving, always kind, always forgiving…..this Presence, I thought, was what everyone was aware of. I believed that when people were unkind or insensitive it was because they just hadn’t learnt how to love right from He who loved us. I knew I still had much to learn from Him, so it would be all right in time, He would “fix things”. It wasn’t until I had been at school for about 2 years that it suddenly dawned on me that this was not everyone’s perception of life. Indeed, as I began to listen more attentively to others, I came to believe it was in fact uncomon to be aware of any unseen presence. Reality was what you could “touch and hold”, at least that was the impression I got. I began to doubt my ability to perceive “reality”. I began to find life very confusing because for me, the unseen was more real than the seen. I swayed between believing and not believing, afraid that if I spoke to anyone about this they would either “lock me up” for being a “fruitloop” or dismiss me as being too imaginative. I was not prepared to “dismiss” this One in Who’s presence life made sense yet I struggled to believe I could be seeing things right. I felt alone and isolated from others, different to those around me and yet not different... I “still bled when you cut me”, …. And so began a search to understand.

I was between 7 and 8 years old when things started to go bad. I don’t know why it started, but it began with “shadows”, three of them, when I went to bed. They would come from the corner of my room as I lay in bed and it was clear to me their intention was to hurt me. I was so afraid. I would pull the blankets up over my head trying to hide from them but they kept coming. I couldn’t cry out, I was paralyzed with fear. Then something strange and wondrous would happen. It was as if I would black out for an instant and when I woke up, I would be in “another place”. I was still in my bed but I was completely covered by a protection that no evil could ever possibly break through. Here, in this place, I was completely and utterly safe. I didn’t know how it happened, I only knew it did and I would go to sleep there knowing that I could do so without fear of anything troubling me. I don’t remember exactly how long these “attacks” lasted but it was about a year or two on and off. Even though not a hair on my head was ever harmed, because I was unaware of how I always reached the “safe place”, I couldn’t be sure it would always be the case. I was terrified one day they would catch me. I named these shadows “the three bears” (as in Goldilocks) because they frightened a little girl. The night time became a terror. I thought it couldn’t get worse....….I was wrong.

Between the ages of 9 and 12 I sought to try and understand what had been happening in my life. Something “strange” was going on and I was at a loss as to know why. Everything seemed upside down and back to front. I had been having both good and bad experiences. The scariest moment that stands out was one day, while staying with a friend, we had gone to the beach for a swim. This was not a sandy beach but one where rocks led down to the water and a natural cove was formed by the encircling rocks so the water was deep. At the time I still couldn’t swim because no-one had really taught me and I was afraid of the water but I was too embarrassed to say anything. I was standing on the rocks wanting very much to have the same fun as my friends when next thing I knew I was in the water. To this day I have no idea how I got in there. There is a “blackness” of memory in between standing on the rocks and being in the water. I snatched at anything to stop myself from sinking for I was going to drown here. There was another boy within my reach and between him and my own thrashing I managed to finally grab onto a rock and pull myself out. He didn’t help me out, he was as scared as I was. He didn’t know I was drowning, he thought I was trying to drown him. My friend asked why did I jump in if I knew I couldn’t swim? I had no answer because as far as I was concerned I hadn’t jumped in. I didn’t know how I got in there. Everyone thought I was an idiot. The shame was so overwhelming. No-one came near me the rest of that day.

That episode more than any other woke me up to the fact that something very serious was happening. I was being torn apart. For every “nightmare” there was a “dream”, for each despair there came a hope. I had no idea what was happening to me. Was this some form of insanity? I had to keep trying to find answers. I listened, I reasoned, I read.

I had by now heard a little about religion and thought it would be a good idea to read the Bible. That was pretty tough going at first. A great deal of it was beyond my comprehension. Eventually I got to the Psalms and the Prophets and a wondrous thing happened. It was like coming home. When I read Isaiah and his sense of sin in front of a Holy God, or Jeremiah and his sense of being known in the womb, or Hosea “how can I give you up oh Ephraim, how can I let you go Israel”…I knew that One they spoke of. It was the same One I knew as a little girl. When David stood against Goliath, it sparked a courage in me I never understood till I read the Psalms he wrote. Then I could see why. I knew this heart of God he spoke of. I knew that same comfort in distress and the forgiveness and love David always spoke of in relation to God. I wanted to build a time machine so I could go back and ask these people how did they know they were not just “seeing things”? How did they know it wasn’t just their “imagination”? I was excited by what I saw but also felt further away than ever of finding an answer. These men were long dead and I didn’t have a time machine. I at least had found out who this One was, he was the God of Abraham, the God of the Bible.

Then I came to the Gospels. If I was excited by the prophets, I was struck dumb by this man they called Jesus. What he did and said were the exact same things I saw from the One I knew as a little girl, the One I had now come to know as God. The one God, the only God who had created all there is. Problem was Jesus said “no-one goes to the Father, except by me.” (John 14:6) and “if you have seen me, you have seen the Father” (John 14:9) Now this confused me greatly because I saw the Father first. God I knew, Jesus, I had never met before. It was as if things started to crumble within me. I didn’t understand how I could not go to the Father when I had been going all along. In fact, as far as I was concerned, it was the Father who had come to me first. At the time some friends of mine thought it would be a good “lark” (Aussie word for having fun) to go along to Sunday School. They invited me to go with them. I agreed. I wanted to understand better. It didn’t go well though. Our teacher was an elderly man whom I came to respect but what I saw in general within the Church was not very Christ-like (in my opinion) and of no help to my situation (so I believed), so I soon decided that Jesus was ‘’well intentioned” but not more than this. I was about to enter into a new stage of my life. I was leaving primary school (junior) and about to enter high school. I considered it was appropriate to leave the “madness” behind me and become “an adult”. If only……..

At first life was good. I was making new friends getting into a new routine and the opposite sex were beginning to look better each day. But it wasn’t fulfilling. I hated school, it was so boring and home life, which had never been good due to my mother’s inconsistencies, wasn’t any better. There had to be more to life than this. Of course I already knew there was, but I had left “that” behind me. But God wasn’t about to be “left behind”.

For the next 17 years my life was spent in torment.

I have to take a breath here for I don’t know how to write the things I went through. It was like being in a prison cell with guards who would come along every now and then and beat you for no reason other than they took delight in inflicting pain. Yet whenever I could drag myself to the small window, or see through the cracks in the wall, just outside the prison fence, always and without fail, there stood Jesus. He never stormed the walls but He never left me abandoned either. There was so much I didn’t understand, it was fast becoming my catch cry. Why didn’t He come and get me? What was He waiting for? Was it my fault? Were these “guards” right when they said He wasn’t really as good as He claimed?

I learnt how to guard the thoughts of my heart against this “unseen” enemy. I started to wonder if I was losing my mind. I would read about mental health issues, psychology, spirituality, religion anything to try and help me explain what was happening. But within the quietness of my own heart of hearts I knew what these “guards” were. They were, what is commonly called, demons. It was more than I could face but I knew it was true. The world could say what it liked…it could relegate them to legends and myth, it could “spiritualize” them or term them as psychological phenomenon as much as it wanted but it didn’t alter the reality of what these things were…. And they took their hatred of Christ out on me with venom because Jesus loved me in Truth!

I soon found I could chase anything or anyone I wanted to, as long as it wasn’t Jesus. If I tried, they would rise up and hedge me in instantly. They usually began with fear through threats but if I got past that, they would use shame. God knows I’ve broken every Law He commanded, if only in my heart, I knew it too so I could usually get past that. Then it was pain. At this point it would become hard. I would feel like iron bands placed on my forearms to stop me raising my hands (to God). Then it would be as if my body was injected with “worms” that would crawl around under my skin. I was too afraid to open my eyes in case I could actually see my skin move. All the while they would laugh and jeer and whisper evil things. I would shut my ears to their noise, so they would raise a “stench” that would make my stomach turn until I would retch. If I stayed determined to endure the pain then the one I called the ringleader (because the rest deferred to him) would rise up and I knew I was in real trouble. He was different from the others in some ways. He seemed to have a confidence the others lacked but he was more chilling than the rest combined. He never messed around. I was ordered to comply or die. He would say I belonged to him and either I submitted or he would kill me. I couldn’t speak but I would shake my head. I didn’t want to die but I knew in my heart, I neither belonged to him nor wanted anything to do with him. Then I would feel something like a cord around my throat and my breath would be cut off. I would hold out for as long as I could, which wasn’t very long I’m afraid, but I didn’t want to die. In the end I compromised. I promised not to go after Jesus if they would leave me alone.

(Have wisdom here brothers and sisters – I could go to Church, which I did on and off during this time. I could do good deeds or be a “good” person, but I could not seek the Face of Christ)

This compromise always ended the attacks but it left me in utter shame and despair. If it were not for Jesus I would have surrendered to them very early on but as I said before He was always there, never far away. Even though I couldn’t seem to reach Him or He me, it was as if I could hear a promise from Him, “whispered on the wind”, …"It will not always be like this” He seemed to say. I don’t know if I believed Him but it was all I had to work with, at least, that is what I thought.

That small hope and Christ’s presence held me for almost seventeen years as I endured internal torment and external threats which included five car accidents, three near drownings, one fire and countless near misses which, could have left me badly injured. But it was all taking it’s toll on my ability to endure. I could feel myself slipping further and further away. After the birth of my third child (I was 27years old) I fell into an extremely deep post-natal depression. It proved to be the beginning of the end.

My marriage was falling apart fast and bless my husband, he tried everything he could think of to save us, but it didn’t help. The more he tried the more I resented his efforts simply because he could do something and I couldn't. As for me I had no strength left, I had no fight anymore. I was so angry with myself, with God, with everyone and everything. All I could see was that as long as God was around, I would suffer so I did what I saw as the most sensible thing to do. I told God to go away and leave me alone…… and He did.

I stopped being angry and I stopped being hurt, but I also stopped being and feeling anything. There was no joy, no pain, no tears, no hope, no despair, no desire, no life…it was all nothingness. I would look and God was not there. I had never known that before. He had always been there. I was soon lost in this sense of nothingness and I forgot everything and everyone……………. but Jesus did not forget me.

I spent about six months like that wandering lost, doing everything by remote control. Then one day I was putting the groceries away after shopping when it was like “something woke me up” and I saw I was standing in my pantry with a bucket of icecream in my hand. I wondered what I was doing there, icecream went in the freezer, not the pantry! Then I was hit by a flood…..it was as if the totality of my life came rushing down on me and all it’s confusion and pain and despair swallowed me in one gulp and I remembered the only place where I ever saw any hope or joy or love…and that place was in God.

I had given Him up and I had no idea if I could ever go “home” again. I broke down and wept like I had never wept before and I cried out …..
“If you don’t save me God, there is no-one left who can”.
I had nothing to bring to Him, not even the faith that He would save me. The only thing I was sure of is that He alone had the power to do it. I don’t know how long I cried but I didn’t stop until there was not a single tear left. As I wiped away the last of my tears I was about to find out God had, not only the power to save but more importantly, the will to save.

to be cont.....

 

[sawdust]

As I sat there thinking I should finish putting the rest of the groceries away, I suddenly felt like two stoppers were pulled out from my feet and all this dirty water ran out of me. Then when I was completely drained, the stoppers were put back in and water fresher than a mountain spring was being poured in from above. It was so pure, it took my breath away with sheer delight. It kept coming, filling up every cell of my being till there was not one tiny scrap of space left in my body where it did not fill. I was overcome with joy and purity and then He was back. My God, who had loved me from the beginning, filled the room with His presence and my heart leapt within me. If I had wings I would have flown higher than any mountain. I would have soared above the clouds. He had made me to be His “little princess” and my heart overflowed with such joy I thought it would burst. I thought it could never be better than this. My Heavenly Father and I together…. But….I was about to find out…I was wrong….again. (I have come to love the Lord teaching me I am wrong!)

As I stood in my home rejoicing for the Lord’s wondrous love and grace, suddenly, standing there before me stood Jesus Christ.

I was awe-struck. I couldn’t speak. If I was a cartoon, my lower jaw would have been hanging on the ground. When I finally found my voice all I could manage to say was “you’re alive!” (I look back now and think what a “dunderhead” I was. Here I am, standing in my living room with the King of Kings and Lord of Lords and all I can say is you’re alive. Talk about as thick as a brick. It didn’t seem to bother Jesus in the slightest though, so I hope you can see just how incredibly gracious He is.) As I stood there looking at Jesus, I was aware of the Father saying “This is My Son” and then I became aware of someone speaking to my mind from within saying over and over again “blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.” I was having a hard time taking all this in at once. There was the Father pointing to His Son, the Holy Spirit kept telling me I was seeing God and Jesus standing there so close I could have reached out and touched Him. (if only my feet would move) Then it finally dawned on me. I’m looking at God!….Jesus is God!

By now, every fibre of my being is stretched to breaking point, but there was still more to come. As the news of Jesus sunk in, He brought forth a Bible and laid it just off to my right hand. It opened up and flicked through every individual page till the last and it closed again. Then Jesus said “every word in there is true”. I wasn’t sure what He meant by that exactly, but I had a feeling I was going to find out. Then I was alone, although not alone.

I spent the next three days in wondrous shock not sure what to do next but that moment in time and space became a turning point in my life. One, from which, I will never turn away from.

It was pretty crowded in “my house” when the Lord moved in. He had a lot of work to do cleaning things up, along with a number of eviction notices to post. But “every day His mercies are new” and He is so gentle and patient and faithful and kind and loving. I don’t have all the words to describe how wonderful He is. Jesus is so much more than what you or I can ever believe or imagine or think, so beyond us yet, so incredibly close to us.

There is much I have left unsaid but If you are still with me in this story, I thank you for your patience and hope you have heard how much Jesus loves you. Yes, you! It matters not who or what you are, all that matters is Jesus Christ. Every stroke of the lash, every pounding in of the nails, every fist in the face, every word of cursing He went through, was not for nought, but for love. If you don’t know that yet, don’t let this moment pass you by, don’t be a slow learner like me, “Look up and see your salvation”.

May the Lord bless and keep you all.

Servant of the Living and Loving God, Jesus Christ.
Deborah

 

[Quiet Storm]

*awe struck*

I........don't know what to say.

 

[Breetai]

He is risen.​

 

[nephilimiyr]

Thank you Deborah and thank you God for giving Deborah the strength and courage to come forward with this! May we all praise the name Of Jesus! AMEN!

Deb I don't know how much you want me to comment on your story but I do want you to know that I do know that you are not the only one who has experienced pain and sufferings from those evil beings. I've heard very similar stories and I wouldn't be surprised at all if your story here inspires someone else here at CF to tell their story.

Everyone needs to know that Jesus has defeated the evil ones. He has already proclaimed His victory to them. There isn't a thing in His creation that doesn't obey Him. If there's anyone in need all they need to know is that if they call upon the name of Jesus, they can be sure that He will answer! Just like he answered to you Deb!

Mattew 18:18-20, Verily I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.
Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven.
For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.

Thank you Jesus, Thank you God!

May His name be praised!

 

[laura_lynn]

Thank you so much for sharing your story, I think it's the most amazing testimony I have ever read, and obviously you spent a lot of time into describing what you have experienced. (and it shows! it read like a novel, just to point out) I'm praying God will continue to strengthen you, just that his presence and influence keeps on turning up each and every day throughout your life. Isn't it amazing to know that God sees us fit, just as we are, to do such radical things?

 

[Bain_Adaneth]

Thank you for sharing, Deb, please keep in touch....it was very touching....which Bible was given to you? Do you still have it? I'm here anytime you need me...Bain_adaneth

 

[IKTCA]

Thank you, Sawdust, for the testimony. I hope you to bring many to knees before Christ with your testimony.

 

[bfly]

I was born in Adelaide of English parents who immigrated to Australia 6 years before my birth. I was the fifth of 5 girls, the eldest being 18 years older than myself. We were a lower working class family without frills but had sufficient to get by. It was not a religious home but concentration was on the value of family and caring for one another. However, my earliest memories are not of my family, but of Another.

I do not remember a time when I did not know God. At the time I did not have the word god in my vocabulary but I was always aware of One who loved me. Always loving, always kind, always forgiving…..this Presence, I thought, was what everyone was aware of. I believed that when people were unkind or insensitive it was because they just hadn’t learnt how to love right from He who loved us. I knew I still had much to learn from Him, so it would be all right in time, He would “fix things”. It wasn’t until I had been at school for about 2 years that it suddenly dawned on me that this was not everyone’s perception of life. Indeed, as I began to listen more attentively to others, I came to believe it was in fact uncomon to be aware of any unseen presence. Reality was what you could “touch and hold”, at least that was the impression I got. I began to doubt my ability to perceive “reality”. I began to find life very confusing because for me, the unseen was more real than the seen. I swayed between believing and not believing, afraid that if I spoke to anyone about this they would either “lock me up” for being a “fruitloop” or dismiss me as being too imaginative. I was not prepared to “dismiss” this One in Who’s presence life made sense yet I struggled to believe I could be seeing things right. I felt alone and isolated from others, different to those around me and yet not different... I “still bled when you cut me”, …. And so began a search to understand.

I was between 7 and 8 years old when things started to go bad. I don’t know why it started, but it began with “shadows”, three of them, when I went to bed. They would come from the corner of my room as I lay in bed and it was clear to me their intention was to hurt me. I was so afraid. I would pull the blankets up over my head trying to hide from them but they kept coming. I couldn’t cry out, I was paralyzed with fear. Then something strange and wondrous would happen. It was as if I would black out for an instant and when I woke up, I would be in “another place”. I was still in my bed but I was completely covered by a protection that no evil could ever possibly break through. Here, in this place, I was completely and utterly safe. I didn’t know how it happened, I only knew it did and I would go to sleep there knowing that I could do so without fear of anything troubling me. I don’t remember exactly how long these “attacks” lasted but it was about a year or two on and off. Even though not a hair on my head was ever harmed, because I was unaware of how I always reached the “safe place”, I couldn’t be sure it would always be the case. I was terrified one day they would catch me. I named these shadows “the three bears” (as in Goldilocks) because they frightened a little girl. The night time became a terror. I thought it couldn’t get worse....….I was wrong.

Between the ages of 9 and 12 I sought to try and understand what had been happening in my life. Something “strange” was going on and I was at a loss as to know why. Everything seemed upside down and back to front. I had been having both good and bad experiences. The scariest moment that stands out was one day, while staying with a friend, we had gone to the beach for a swim. This was not a sandy beach but one where rocks led down to the water and a natural cove was formed by the encircling rocks so the water was deep. At the time I still couldn’t swim because no-one had really taught me and I was afraid of the water but I was too embarrassed to say anything. I was standing on the rocks wanting very much to have the same fun as my friends when next thing I knew I was in the water. To this day I have no idea how I got in there. There is a “blackness” of memory in between standing on the rocks and being in the water. I snatched at anything to stop myself from sinking for I was going to drown here. There was another boy within my reach and between him and my own thrashing I managed to finally grab onto a rock and pull myself out. He didn’t help me out, he was as scared as I was. He didn’t know I was drowning, he thought I was trying to drown him. My friend asked why did I jump in if I knew I couldn’t swim? I had no answer because as far as I was concerned I hadn’t jumped in. I didn’t know how I got in there. Everyone thought I was an idiot. The shame was so overwhelming. No-one came near me the rest of that day.

That episode more than any other woke me up to the fact that something very serious was happening. I was being torn apart. For every “nightmare” there was a “dream”, for each despair there came a hope. I had no idea what was happening to me. Was this some form of insanity? I had to keep trying to find answers. I listened, I reasoned, I read.

I had by now heard a little about religion and thought it would be a good idea to read the Bible. That was pretty tough going at first. A great deal of it was beyond my comprehension. Eventually I got to the Psalms and the Prophets and a wondrous thing happened. It was like coming home. When I read Isaiah and his sense of sin in front of a Holy God, or Jeremiah and his sense of being known in the womb, or Hosea “how can I give you up oh Ephraim, how can I let you go Israel”…I knew that One they spoke of. It was the same One I knew as a little girl. When David stood against Goliath, it sparked a courage in me I never understood till I read the Psalms he wrote. Then I could see why. I knew this heart of God he spoke of. I knew that same comfort in distress and the forgiveness and love David always spoke of in relation to God. I wanted to build a time machine so I could go back and ask these people how did they know they were not just “seeing things”? How did they know it wasn’t just their “imagination”? I was excited by what I saw but also felt further away than ever of finding an answer. These men were long dead and I didn’t have a time machine. I at least had found out who this One was, he was the God of Abraham, the God of the Bible.

Then I came to the Gospels. If I was excited by the prophets, I was struck dumb by this man they called Jesus. What he did and said were the exact same things I saw from the One I knew as a little girl, the One I had now come to know as God. The one God, the only God who had created all there is. Problem was Jesus said “no-one goes to the Father, except by me.” (John 14:6) and “if you have seen me, you have seen the Father” (John 14:9) Now this confused me greatly because I saw the Father first. God I knew, Jesus, I had never met before. It was as if things started to crumble within me. I didn’t understand how I could not go to the Father when I had been going all along. In fact, as far as I was concerned, it was the Father who had come to me first. At the time some friends of mine thought it would be a good “lark” (Aussie word for having fun) to go along to Sunday School. They invited me to go with them. I agreed. I wanted to understand better. It didn’t go well though. Our teacher was an elderly man whom I came to respect but what I saw in general within the Church was not very Christ-like (in my opinion) and of no help to my situation (so I believed), so I soon decided that Jesus was ‘’well intentioned” but not more than this. I was about to enter into a new stage of my life. I was leaving primary school (junior) and about to enter high school. I considered it was appropriate to leave the “madness” behind me and become “an adult”. If only……..

At first life was good. I was making new friends getting into a new routine and the opposite sex were beginning to look better each day. But it wasn’t fulfilling. I hated school, it was so boring and home life, which had never been good due to my mother’s inconsistencies, wasn’t any better. There had to be more to life than this. Of course I already knew there was, but I had left “that” behind me. But God wasn’t about to be “left behind”.

For the next 17 years my life was spent in torment.

I have to take a breath here for I don’t know how to write the things I went through. It was like being in a prison cell with guards who would come along every now and then and beat you for no reason other than they took delight in inflicting pain. Yet whenever I could drag myself to the small window, or see through the cracks in the wall, just outside the prison fence, always and without fail, there stood Jesus. He never stormed the walls but He never left me abandoned either. There was so much I didn’t understand, it was fast becoming my catch cry. Why didn’t He come and get me? What was He waiting for? Was it my fault? Were these “guards” right when they said He wasn’t really as good as He claimed?

I learnt how to guard the thoughts of my heart against this “unseen” enemy. I started to wonder if I was losing my mind. I would read about mental health issues, psychology, spirituality, religion anything to try and help me explain what was happening. But within the quietness of my own heart of hearts I knew what these “guards” were. They were, what is commonly called, demons. It was more than I could face but I knew it was true. The world could say what it liked…it could relegate them to legends and myth, it could “spiritualize” them or term them as psychological phenomenon as much as it wanted but it didn’t alter the reality of what these things were…. And they took their hatred of Christ out on me with venom because Jesus loved me in Truth!

I soon found I could chase anything or anyone I wanted to, as long as it wasn’t Jesus. If I tried, they would rise up and hedge me in instantly. They usually began with fear through threats but if I got past that, they would use shame. God knows I’ve broken every Law He commanded, if only in my heart, I knew it too so I could usually get past that. Then it was pain. At this point it would become hard. I would feel like iron bands placed on my forearms to stop me raising my hands (to God). Then it would be as if my body was injected with “worms” that would crawl around under my skin. I was too afraid to open my eyes in case I could actually see my skin move. All the while they would laugh and jeer and whisper evil things. I would shut my ears to their noise, so they would raise a “stench” that would make my stomach turn until I would retch. If I stayed determined to endure the pain then the one I called the ringleader (because the rest deferred to him) would rise up and I knew I was in real trouble. He was different from the others in some ways. He seemed to have a confidence the others lacked but he was more chilling than the rest combined. He never messed around. I was ordered to comply or die. He would say I belonged to him and either I submitted or he would kill me. I couldn’t speak but I would shake my head. I didn’t want to die but I knew in my heart, I neither belonged to him nor wanted anything to do with him. Then I would feel something like a cord around my throat and my breath would be cut off. I would hold out for as long as I could, which wasn’t very long I’m afraid, but I didn’t want to die. In the end I compromised. I promised not to go after Jesus if they would leave me alone.

(Have wisdom here brothers and sisters – I could go to Church, which I did on and off during this time. I could do good deeds or be a “good” person, but I could not seek the Face of Christ)

This compromise always ended the attacks but it left me in utter shame and despair. If it were not for Jesus I would have surrendered to them very early on but as I said before He was always there, never far away. Even though I couldn’t seem to reach Him or He me, it was as if I could hear a promise from Him, “whispered on the wind”, …"It will not always be like this” He seemed to say. I don’t know if I believed Him but it was all I had to work with, at least, that is what I thought.

That small hope and Christ’s presence held me for almost seventeen years as I endured internal torment and external threats which included five car accidents, three near drownings, one fire and countless near misses which, could have left me badly injured. But it was all taking it’s toll on my ability to endure. I could feel myself slipping further and further away. After the birth of my third child (I was 27years old) I fell into an extremely deep post-natal depression. It proved to be the beginning of the end.

My marriage was falling apart fast and bless my husband, he tried everything he could think of to save us, but it didn’t help. The more he tried the more I resented his efforts simply because he could do something and I couldn't. As for me I had no strength left, I had no fight anymore. I was so angry with myself, with God, with everyone and everything. All I could see was that as long as God was around, I would suffer so I did what I saw as the most sensible thing to do. I told God to go away and leave me alone…… and He did.

I stopped being angry and I stopped being hurt, but I also stopped being and feeling anything. There was no joy, no pain, no tears, no hope, no despair, no desire, no life…it was all nothingness. I would look and God was not there. I had never known that before. He had always been there. I was soon lost in this sense of nothingness and I forgot everything and everyone……………. but Jesus did not forget me.

I spent about six months like that wandering lost, doing everything by remote control. Then one day I was putting the groceries away after shopping when it was like “something woke me up” and I saw I was standing in my pantry with a bucket of icecream in my hand. I wondered what I was doing there, icecream went in the freezer, not the pantry! Then I was hit by a flood…..it was as if the totality of my life came rushing down on me and all it’s confusion and pain and despair swallowed me in one gulp and I remembered the only place where I ever saw any hope or joy or love…and that place was in God.

I had given Him up and I had no idea if I could ever go “home” again. I broke down and wept like I had never wept before and I cried out …..
“If you don’t save me God, there is no-one left who can”.
I had nothing to bring to Him, not even the faith that He would save me. The only thing I was sure of is that He alone had the power to do it. I don’t know how long I cried but I didn’t stop until there was not a single tear left. As I wiped away the last of my tears I was about to find out God had, not only the power to save but more importantly, the will to save.

to be cont.....

God bless you

 

[youthwalk]

……………. but Jesus did not forget me.

I love it. Powerful testimony. May God continue to bless you and yur heart of compassion.

 

[JPPT1974]

God never forgets anybody
He forgives you if you ask Him!