Attacked! Part Three: Mistreatment & Madness

When I was 21, I once again, was trying to get away from drugs. I had recently gotten out of a three year relationship that contained a lot of partying. I met a guy while on a trip in North Carolina. And he was what I was looking for- he had never done any drugs in his life. What better way to be able to quit drugs than to be with someone who had no drug history, right? So I moved 3000 miles away from my home in CA to start a new life- a better life.

From the beginning the relationship was unstable. He had a slight temper- but no one was perfect, right? I know I wasn’t. So I excused most of his behavior. Then he went on his first tour to Iraq. By the way Army- sending someone with an anger problem to war… not a good idea. After he returned we decided to get married. Our relationship got increasingly more stressful. I found out many things that he had hidden. He had told me in the beginning that he was in a three years relationship before me which ended due to his enlistment in the military. I later found out, from his mom, that he had never had a relationship that lasted more than six months.

Then I discovered his addiction to pornography. This was a major problem in our relationship. We were attending a church in the city we lived. I was trying to be a good wife and a good person. But I had this horrible fear of rejection- and every time he looked at another woman he was rejecting me. It was incredibly hard for me to handle. But I tried to keep it together. I tried to pray for him and help him. There was a group at our church for this type of addiction and I asked him to go. He went once. He said he was not like those men. He said that they “actually” cheated on their wives- and he did not. Even though I did consider the things he had done cheating. It wasn’t just watching movies or looking at magazines, it was him talking to girls on the internet and getting them to undress for him. My husband tried to hide it a lot. He would try to act like he quit- but I would constantly pray that God would show me the truth- and He would. I had girls, who thought he was single, contact me and send me their conversations. He tell them that he wasn’t married and that he had a crazy ex-wife who would post on myspace and facebook that they were still together. He had even got under my screen name before on instant messenger and acted like he was me. He told a girl friend of mine that he was me, and that I was attracted to her and then proceeded to try and get her to show her body. Luckily, she knew it wasn’t me and called me and let me know what happened. His addiction was so bad that he would stay up all night acting like he was watching T.V., when he was really watching porn, and end up getting only a few hours of sleep before going into work. He walked around looking like a zombie.

Then I started to have scary dreams. After he would leave in the morning for work I would go back to sleep. Then I would have a dream that he came back, and was standing over me while I slept- but it wasn’t him. It was a demon in his body. I would wake up scared and sweating. I started to have a very weary feeling in our home. I often kept the office door shut, where the computer was. I eventually called one of our pastors over to have him bless our house. But my husband would not let me tell him why I was feeling the way I was. I started praying prayers of protection over myself and the dreams stopped. But I still did not feel comfortable in my home.

My husband was getting increasingly frustrated that he could not hide his addiction. His anger started getting out of control. He was angry at himself but took it out on me. I think he felt a loss of control and therefore tried to control me. He started verbally abusing me, constantly. When we would fight he would lock me in the room and not let me out and continue screaming insults at me. Then he would cry- and I mean sob. He said his mind was racing and that he could not stop it. Finally one night as he lay sobbing on the hallway floor, we went to the ER. He was made an appointment with a psychiatrist the next day and they diagnosed him with ADD and put him on medication.

The medication helped somewhat. But it didn’t stop the porn addiction. I was trying to be patient with him and love and pray for him. But the effects were devastating to me. And so much of my time was spent trying to help him and no one was helping me. Finally, he got called for another deployment. The first time he was deployed I was so sad. But this time I was relieved. Eight months of time away so I could heal and hopefully when he returned we could get on track. He thought the deployment would help because he said he would not be able to get a hold of any porn there. And if he could go eight months then maybe he could kick it.

Well, I can tell you that soldiers are not suppose to have porn or alcohol while they are deployed. But you’d be surprised how many wives send both to their men. It wasn’t long before his best friend told me that my husband was in fact looking at porn and was lying to me. We started fighting on the phone a lot- which is not good when you never know if that phone call could be your last. Then, his deployment was extended- to 12 months. Then, it was extended again- to 15 months!

Madness begins…

The 15 month deployment extended his contract with the military as he was suppose to be getting out. So when he got home he would have four months left in order to clear and then he would be free of the Army. We planned to move to Charlotte, NC where he wanted to join the police department. So when an awesome position with the company I worked for opened up in Charlotte- I felt I should jump on the chance. My husband and I discussed me moving to Charlotte right away and then him coming to join me once he was cleared from the Army. He agreed and I packed my bags and moved to Charlotte.

The job was great. My apartment was great. The city was beautiful. I felt this was a good move. But something happened.

I started getting depressed. This was not my first bout with depression. And with everything I was going through with my husband I was surprised it was just now hitting me. I was trying to find a church but it was harder than I thought. I would sit in parking lots after a service and cry. I had no friends either. I didn’t know anyone and most everyone at my job was a lot older than me. So I was alone in a new place with no one. I managed to get myself up for work during the week but would spend most of the weekends curled up in a ball, crying.

Then something different started happening. I started getting periods where I felt better. In fact, I felt 10 times better! I would have a few days where my depression would lift and I would feel full of energy- ready to take on the world! I would go run for five or six miles (and I hate running). I would join social communities online and go meet people I didn’t know for some activities. I would get an idea to start an online business that I could do on my time off. I also couldn’t sleep and my mind would race at an incredibly fast pace. Then after a few days the depression would hit and the cycle would start again. I didn’t really think anything was wrong with me until something happened that scared the crap out of me.

My thoughts had been getting weirder and weirder during these times where I was free of my depression. One day while driving down the street I had a lighter in my hand and, for some reason, decided to light my car seat on fire. The seat blew up in flames! I had to pull over. I stared at the flames next to me for a minute in awe and not knowing what to do. I finally started feeling the heat and got out of the car. And reality set in. What the heck did I do?! I was close to my apartment so I ran to try and get some water. But when I got back, the car was engulfed in flames. Windows were broken out and fire stretched to the sky. I grabbed my phone and called 911.

The fire department came and put the fire out. I sat on the lawn and my phone rang. It was my husband. I still did not understand what had happened so I just told him that the car caught fire and I didn’t know why. He was confused but so was I.

I couldn’t sleep for days after the fire. My mind was racing. The thoughts in my head were loud. What happened? Why did I do that? What was wrong with me? Then I would cry. I was trying to go to work and not let anyone know what was wrong with me. Everything was so strange though. I felt like I saw everything in a haze. And sounds would seem loud. Sometimes I would feel like a spectator to my own body- like I was outside of myself and watching in fast forward.

Finally one Friday night I was getting really scared so I opened the phone book and called a suicide hotline. I asked where I could go to get help. They referred me to a mental health facility in Charlotte, NC. I got in my car and drove there and admitted myself. I was stripped searched and placed in this “crazy people” clothing that had no strings or ties- I guess so I couldn’t hang myself. I saw multiple people before I saw the doctor and had to tell the story multiple times. Finally, after hours and hours I saw the psychiatrist.

We went through my family history. I had one aunt with bipolar I and an aunt who was schizophrenic. I had people with substance abuse history also. We went through my own history as well. I had been prescribed an anti-depressant once when I was 17- but my doctor took me off of it because it made me have mood swings. He did not place me on anything else. We went through my drug and alcohol abuse and my periods of sobriety. We went through my current conditions and stressors and the incident that had just happened.

After hours of talking with the doctor, I was diagnosed with Bipolar I disorder. I was relieved. I had always known something was different about me but never knew what it was. I felt I had to try to be “normal” when others just lived that way. The doctor prescribed me Lithium, but I kindly refused due to the side effects I had heard of. The doctor assured me that it was safer than it used to be. But I preferred to try other medications first.

Over the next several months I went through a laundry list of medications. I was let out of the hospital to go to work but would return on the weekends for counseling and evaluations. The medications were rough. I told one girl at work, that I could trust, what was going on. She lived by me so she often gave me rides to work if I could not drive. Some of the medications made me dizzy. Some of them I could not walk on without holding on to something. Some made me forget things- like shoes. But for the most part they seemed to help. I just had to find one that worked without the horrible side effects.

The major factor in my episodes was stress. I am not an emotional person so I tend to hold my feelings in and try to remain in control- but my body always manifests side effects to the stress. Over the next three years my life was very stressful. A good friend of ours was killed in Iraq, problems continued with my husband and got worse after his second deployment, I got pregnant with twins- lost one after a fight with my husband, then we moved to Charlotte and I lost the other one. My husband became more violent and the pornography problem persisted, therefore, remaining stable was very hard for me. I continued to have episodes even though I was heavily medicated. I eventually was put on a high dose of Lithium, accompanied by another mood stabilizer. I was in two different types of therapy and a bipolar support group but still went through several manic and depressive episodes. My episodes were running in cycles of four months. Four months with racing thoughts, delusions, insomnia, loss of appetite, anger fits and impulsive behavior. During these episodes I would think faster than I could talk and my sentences would often jump from one to the next without finishing the first one. Often my auditory senses were heightened so everything seemed incredibly loud. I would sometimes not be aware of where I was or what I was doing. Following my manic episodes I would be plagued by four months of depression. I would cry all of the time, sleep all of the time and would not eat. By the time I emerged from the back to back episodes I would usually be severely malnourished and very thin. I also started having mixed-episodes which have symptoms of both mania and depression at the same time. These kinds of episodes are very dangerous and lead me into two suicide attempts.

With the council of many members of my church and my therapist, I finally decided that I had no hope to ever be stable if I continued a relationship with my husband. I had tried for several years at this point to work on our marriage but he was unwilling to change or work on the issues that he needed to address. The divorce was stressful, but not as stressful as the marriage. With the help and support of many of my friends, family, my current boss, and my therapist I was able to get out of a violent relationship.

The battle to control my mind had been a struggle for me all of my life. And during those years I was definitely losing the battle. It has taken me years to figure out how to control my mind. But with the grace and love of God I have managed to be medicine free and episode free for 20 months! And nine months of that was being pregnant, which I was told would hospitalize me. Now that is ALL GOD. I could never be the way I am now without Him.  He is my healer, my father, my guider, my comforter and my savior. He makes my life what it is now. And I have a very healthy, stable life because of Him.

Attacked! Part Two: Devastate and Destroy

Attacked! Part Two: Devastate and Destroy

If you have ever been addicted to a substance, you know that it turns you into a completely different person. You do things that you would never have done sober. I struggled with drugs for over four years. And after I kicked the drugs I struggles on and off with alcohol for another four years! For a good eight years of my life Satan had reign to devastate and destroy me. He knew that every mistake I made would make it that much harder to clean up. Because as you deteriorate, Satan makes a point to create shame in your heart for the things you have done. By the end of eight years I can tell you that I honestly hated myself. I hated everything that I had become and I thought that I could never be what I once was. I had ruined my life and there was no return to the innocence that I once embraced.

I experimented with many types of different drugs. And each destroyed me in a different way. I will not sit here and tell stories, as I do not want to glorify that type of life. I will tell you that using drugs- even “fun” drugs made me someone that I did not want to be. I have done everything from lying, stealing & cheating to using people, hurting people & backstabbing people. I have carelessly used my body and in some cases even sold my body for what I thought I needed in the moment. I have seen people almost die. I have almost died myself. I have enticed and encouraged other to do drugs- some of who are still using and some of who will never get their lives back because of their use. I hurt my family, I hurt my friends and I used and hurt men who actually cared about me. I cared only for myself. I did not think of others and I did not care to.

I tried repeatedly during those eight years to quit using and/or drinking. I grew up in recovery. I knew what I was doing was wrong. But every time I tried Satan would remind me of what I had done and of how I was no good. And I had no knowledge of how to overcome those thoughts. They replayed in my head over and over. All the mistakes I had made, people I had hurt and people who had hurt me would play like a recording in my brain. I often could not sleep because the thoughts were so loud in my brain.

So I tried and failed, tried and failed, tried and failed. Every time I tried I was attacked and I was never spiritually mature enough to know how to protect myself from these attacks. And each time I returned to using I fell even further than where I was the time before. Take two steps up and fall six backwards. That was my life for those eight years. Soon you begin to feel that there is no use. That if God did exist, He wasn’t concerned with you anymore. I felt He had given up on me and left me.

I wasted a lot of my life during those times. I wish I had had someone to guide me and help me. I hope that I can help someone in the way that I needed help. Because I discovered that with God it is so easy! If I had the tools then that I finally got a few years ago, I may not have wasted so much time.

Attacked! Part One: Overwhelmed, Overtaken and Overthrown

So why did I include a post on spiritual warfare? What does that have to do with my story?

Spiritual Warfare IS my story.

Many Christians today ignore the topic of spiritual warfare. But spiritual warfare is our story! Have you, as a Christian, or have you heard a Christian ever say, “Why is it that the people who are not Christians seem to have life so easy?” The answer is simple. Satan does not attack those that he is not threatened by. So if you are a Christian and it seems like your unsaved friends seem to have an easier life then you… they probably do. They are not under constant spiritual attack, you are.

I think many of us ignore how we are spiritually attacked. Especially those attacks that do not ever surface into life controlling problems.

I wish that I could say that I have never struggled with the curses of my family, but I have. In fact, I have been attacked with almost every curse that has been placed in my generational line. I have not succumbed to all of them, but I have been attacked with all of them.

                   Attack One: The Mind

Once I accepted Christ, the battle was on. The first way Satan attacked me was in my mind. He had been working on this for years of course. And with everything that had happened to me I had little defense against his attacks. I felt sad, rejected, scared & alone. And I was constantly reminded of my past. I was constantly told that I was unlovable; that I could amount to nothing and that my life was not worth living. And these thoughts played in my head day after day.

When I was 12 I got my first boyfriend. I was crazy about him. He was funny, weird, interesting, cute and trouble. We dated for almost two years. However, the relationship was off and on. He often broke up with me and dated other girls. Which intensified my sense of rejection. Satan was using a person to confirm the thoughts that I had in my head. That I was unlovable and not good enough, and not just to my family but to others as well. I continually took my boyfriend back and tried to be what he liked. And he continually dumped me and was verbally abusive to me. He spread rumors about me and often brought his other girlfriends around me. When we broke up I would cry for hours, day and night. I would become suicidal and sometimes would self injure to ease the pain.

The negative thoughts that raced in my head became so frequent that I often thought of death. I could not seem to control what was happening, and the pain was so intense that I did not feel that I could live through it. I also felt hopeless. I felt the pain was never going to end and I could see no logical way that I could spend the rest of my life in this state. I often pleaded to God to take me. I would cry for hours telling God that I did not want to be on this earth, that I could not handle life, and when I awoke for another day I resented God that He would leave me in a place like this. I felt He was cruel and I did not understand why He would let me live like this.

Satan had my mind right where he wanted it.

                    Attack Two: Drugs

I had my first experience with drugs in junior high. Some of my friends smoked pot and of course I wanted to try it and see what it was all about. However, I have always been a fairly active person and doing something that made me lazy and hungry just did not appeal to me. So I only tried it a few times and my first two years of high school I remained drug free. However, in my junior year of high school something happened that sent me into a tail spin of emotions that I was not properly equipped to deal with. I had three family members die in a matter of about four months.

My mom showed up on my dad’s porch one day and told me that her dad had died… and that my grandma had cancer. My mom and I attended her father’s funeral. I did not know him well. I only knew how everyone talked about him- which was bad. So I didn’t expect to hear much at the funeral. But oddly, his funeral was one of the weirdest things ever. I expected that not many would talk, considering he was such a bad man and no one likes to say bad things at someone’s funeral. But instead, the funeral was flooded with stories of his good works. He and his wife were in ministry and every person there had a good story to say about him. His wife also had two sons who, to my surprise, loved him and were very grateful to have him as their father figure. I was completely confused. Who was this man? Why did my family hate him? Why did I hardly ever get to see him or get to know him? To me he seemed to be the only dang normal person on my mom’s side and for some reason they had kept him from me! It was very frustrating and it would be years before I would learn any more about him.

My grandmother, on my mother’s side, who had basically raised me died within two months of her cancer diagnosis. The night before she died my mom, again, showed up my doorstep and said that we needed to go see my grandma and that she needed me to drive and she had taken some sleeping pills and was too drowsy to drive. I remember all of the family being there. Some were inside, some were outside… they all talked and cried- though to me the sounds of them were mumbled. Everything seemed to dim and blur around me. I couldn’t focus on what they were doing or saying- I could only focus on the thought that my grandma was going to die- and she was going to spend her last moments with these people.  You see, my grandma had moved away from our hometown a few years before with her husband. I guess they both got sick of having to take care of all six of my aunts and uncles while they repeatedly ruined their lives… I would have too. Her husband adored her and when he found out she was sick he took it very hard. The kids talked him into letting them bring my grandmother back to her hometown where they could care for her so her husband would not have to. I think he let her go because he could not bear to watch her die in front of him. He told me years later that every once in a while, when her meds faded away and she was coherent, she would call him and say how much she missed him and that she hated being away. It broke my heart to hear that because I knew, as I sat there that night, watching her body give out, that the last place she probably wanted to be when she died was where she was. I sat next to her and held her hand while her body twitched and seized. She was in so much pain and I just wanted it to be over. I honestly prayed that she would die while I sat there with her. I did not want her to die surrounded with the rest of them. They all made me sick and I wished that I could just take her away, to die in a place surrounded with love and peace and joy and happiness. As time went on and she did not pass, my mom said we needed to go home. I reluctantly said goodbye to my grandma and got in the car. Hours after we left she passed away. I still don’t understand why God did not take her while I was there- I wish he had. Maybe she was holding on as I held her hand and would not let go. Maybe me leaving made her give up the fight. Maybe God didn’t want me to see her die in front of me. I don’t know the reason, but it still sickens me today to think that the last face that she saw was one of theirs. And that probably sounds awful to say- but that is how I feel.

After being up all night with my grandma I returned home to my dads. He told me that he and his wife had prayed all night that my grandma would not die in front of me, which pissed me off considering what I said above. He told me I could stay home from school- but I went anyway. That week was a blur. I did not know how to emotionally digest what had just happened.

And next…

A few months after my grandma died one of my uncles died via heroin overdose. From what I understand he hadn’t used in quite some time. He was alone and stuck a large dose into his vein, let it go and died. I was not close to him (as I didn’t really care for any of them) so that was not the aspect of his death that affected me. The part that affected me was that I knew he did it on purpose. And being suicidal my self for years at this point, I thought of how he must have felt to take his own life. I thought of how much pain he must have been in and how hopeless he must have felt. I thought of how much courage he had to do the thing that I had so many times contemplated in my own head. I also thought of how that heroin must have felt entering his body… how it would have numbed his emotions and taken the pain away and provided peace before the lethal dose spread through his body, eventually taking his life. I did not care that I would never see him again- but I did envy him that he did not have to ever wake up and feel the pain that I felt every day. He got to escape it… and I had to stay and suffer.

Needless to say, I was at a really weak point in my life. And the devil knew just the way to attack me while I was weak. Shortly after the death of my three family members, I was presented with the opportunity to try some cocaine at a friend’s house of mine. I had never done drugs, but that did not mean that I did not know about them. With my dad being in recovery I heard many stories of the effects of certain drugs and had a good knowledge of each type. So when offered cocaine all I could think was “Numb” – and that’s exactly what I wanted at that point in my life, was to be numb. Without hesitation I grabbed a rolled dollar, tilted it slightly to the side and in one effortless sniff, inhaled the line laid out for me. Someone there said, “man, you’re a pro!” The drug almost instantly numbed me. And I do not mean my body was numb… my mind was. My body was actually quite awake, which I liked considering the emotional pain I was in was considerably draining to my body. My mind was quieted and my body was rejuvenated! Amazing!

And right then, the devil had his hold on me. One that would take me years to remove...

Elevation Church: Life Change Inbox Submission

First, sorry I have not posted in a while. Baby Blaise is due in 60 days so I am trying to rest and get ready for our new addition. But I did want to post this story from one of my friends. This is a post from a friend of mine which was published on the blog of Holly Furtick, wife to Steven Furtick, Pastor of Elevation Church in Charlotte, NC - where I used to attend before moving to Knoxville, TN. She let me know about this post as she mentioned me and I thought it would be great to share her story on the blog. Please visit Holly Furtick's blog to see all of the comments in response to Amber's story. God is truly amazing!

Thank you Amber for sharing your story and being so transparent in order to show how God has worked in your life. He is going to do many great things through your healing! Luv ya girl!

-Melissa

Post From: http://www.hollyfurtick.com/

We continue in our Friday series, Life Change Inbox.  I am sharing some of the wonderful emails my husband gets, where people share the work God is doing in their lives through Elevation Church.  Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 3:2-4 that our lives are living letters written so that God might be glorified.  None of these letters have been changed in anyway.
Amber's story is a great way to end our series, Treatment.  I hope this story will bless you...

My life has been radically altered by God through Elevation Church and my small group leader kept telling me that I needed to share the whole story so here it is… 

I first heard of Elevation at a really low point in my life – I was actually in the psyc wing of a hospital, let me explain...  I was caught up in a whirlwind of addictions - alcohol abuse, bulimia, cutting, shoplifting, and I was on a number of prescription drugs. I had a horrible relationship with my family members (many of whom had written me off), and I was sleeping with a man who not only was not a Christian, he actively spoke out against God.  I was in a place where I couldn’t find a reason to live. 

And so after trying to commit suicide I ended up in the hospital. I know that’s a crazy place to hear about a church but that’s what happened to me.  I met a girl there named Melissa. She said, "hey, if we ever get outta here do you wanna go to church together?" I said, "Why the hell not, I’ve tried everything else". That is literally what our conversations were like.  We exchanged numbers and after we were both released we met at a restaurant a few days later.  Melissa told me about this new church she was going to and how it was unlike any other church she had attended. I was skeptical because I hate fake people and thought all churches were full of hypocrites and was not thrilled about going. But I agreed to meet her on Sunday. What I experienced at Providence High School in Nov. of 2007 was amazing. I instantly felt at ease. I felt like I could be myself and not be damned for the parts of my life that were out of control at the moment.

Needless to say, it felt odd being in a church knowing how messed up my life was.  But Elevation didn't feel like just a church to me.  The people that seemed to love and accept me for who I was just blew my mind. I didn't understand it, but I knew that I felt accepted there and wanted to return. I actually started to ask for prayer and help. I still struggled immensely in my personal life and I bottomed out a few months later with another suicide attempt that landed me in the ER & ICU for 4 days before being transferred to 2 more psychiatric facilities over the next few weeks. 

But in all this, God still hadn't let me go & after listening to some great advice, I went to rehab for about 4 months.  While in rehab, they would let me watch Pastor's sermons online every week. It was one of the things that kept me pushing forward during my hardest days.  It was comforting knowing that I would have Elevation to come back to.  When I graduated from rehab in March '08 I immediately joined an eGroup because I knew I needed to get connected to the church that had already helped me so much. 

I've now been a part of Elevation Church for the past 4 years. God has healed and delivered me from those parts of my life that used to be my deepest darkest secrets. I'm not perfect, I still struggle with temptation at times but I now understand what it feels like to be fully & unconditionally loved by God. He gets all the praise and glory for His story of transformation in my life.

Thank you Elevation Church!

Amber

Treatment, Part 2: Depression: A New 24

Great sermon by Pastor Steven Furtick! Check out the entire series: Treatment @ www.elevationchurch.org

Treatment, Part 2: Depression: A New 24

TIM THURMAN'S BLOG: I Have Not Be Totally Honest With You

A good blog from someone else sharing their story for God. Enjoy!


TIM THURMAN'S BLOG: I Have Not Be Totally Honest With You

Spiritual Warfare: The truth about the size of the opponents

There is an epic battle that has existed before the world began…

It still exists. We are born into this battle…

We can see the effects of this battle in the every day lives of people.

Be concerned; be aware; but do not be afraid – for there is One more powerful.

**The Truth About the Size of the Opponents**

I think many Christians today think of God, and of Satan, way too lowly. We act like the devil is a little guy sitting on our shoulder whispering bad thoughts in our ear to temp us.  And we treat God like He is “on call.” As though when we need God we ask Him for help and He sends “the force” down to help us in our need. Well, that is not how God is, nor is it how Satan works. We often underestimate the power of both.

Some of us Christians need to get a little Pentecostal in us!

Do you acknowledge the presence of evil that is in your daily life? Why not? It’s there. Trust me, its there whether you think about it or not. Demons do not die – they live & work in generation to generation. And Satan loves when Christians don’t think about him! He loves when we go on living as though there is not a spiritual battle going on. Why? Because one of the best ways to fight against an enemy is to know your enemy. After all, an army does not go into battle not knowing the strategies, weaknesses and strengths of their opponent. The best way to fight against the devil is to know his strategies; know what he will use to try and defeat you and know how to protect yourself against his schemes. But as we walk this earth daily, going about our business, not paying attention to the fact that evil and temptation surrounds us… we quietly ignore his presence. And in doing this we let our guard down. Satan is a master deceiver. He will creep into the smallest hole, make himself unnoticeable and attack without you even knowing it. Satan is patient. He will take his time and destroy you slowly. (Ever listen to that song It’s A Slow Fade by Casting Crowns? If not, go look it up… it’s a good explanation of how Satan works and is a warning to us all.)

While Satan is powerful, there is One more powerful than him… and that is God. So often we seem to see God as smaller than He is also. We thank God for the things we think He has done and we ask Him for help… but we often do not realize that God is in control. He is in control of EVERYTHING. He knows all the past, present and future. He knows everything you have ever done and thought. He also knows everything you will do in the future… every mistake you will ever make… in your whole life! He knows everything that is going on in the world at every given moment and hears everyone’s prayers. Not only that, but we as Christians have the power of the name of Jesus and have the Holy Spirit living inside us! Dwell on that for a minute…Do you know what that means? We have the power of Jesus’ name to revoke Satan and his demons. And we have the spirit of the Lord living inside us to guide and direct us. And yet, how often do you use what God has given you? How often do you use the name of Jesus? How often do you call upon the Holy Spirit? For me, I know I honestly do not as much as I should. God has given me these great gifts and I often do not even exercise them. I too often rely on myself… and when things get bad I finally decide to call on God. Too often He is my secondary and not my primary. We need to acknowledge the power of God, our need for Him and exercise the gifts, talents and powers that God provides for us through Him. We need to pray offensively. And we need to do this every day… every hour and every minute. Don’t turn God into your little pocket handy-man. Because the truth is, the devil is stronger than you. But God has given us His authority in order that we may overcome the attacks of Satan and his demons.

ACTION: Take a minute today to reflect.

How aware are you of the presence of evil in your life? Satan is always working. So where is he working in your life? Look at the evidence of evil in your life. Where does he attack you? Look at how you may have aided your enemy. How are you participating?

Pray offensively. Repent of sin, acknowledge Jesus as your savior and ask the Holy Spirit to be your protector. Pray against your weaknesses and ask the Holy Spirit to dwell inside you; closing and locking every window and door that you may have left open for attack. Proclaim the Name of Jesus and your power over the enemy as one who has the living God inside of them.

I Accept You, Jesus... But I am Walking Blindfolded.

When I was 13 my family situation finally changed.

My mom and I were living out on our own again. This time she actually had a boyfriend that I liked! He was a really good guy and seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. We did lots of stuff together, like going to the beach and such. Everyone else seemed to like him too. It looked as if this was going to be a good thing…

Well- I guess it depends on what you think a good thing is. I guess you can say it turned out for the best, just not how we all thought it would turn out…

My mom’s new & loved boyfriend turned out to be an undercover cop. He busted her for using and selling methamphetamine. When my mom went to court the judge sentenced her to a year in jail or six months in a treatment facility. My mom took the six months and went off to treatment.

With my mom getting sent off to rehab, I was sent to go live with my dad. Which could have turned out badly if God had not recently intervened in my dad’s life and changed everything! My dad’s addiction finally got the best of him. Him and his wife were splitting up and my dad ended up homeless, living out of his car. My two half sisters were with their mom, but with her own addiction, she could not care for them so they were staying with their grandparents mostly. With my mom going off to rehab and my sister’s mother not able to take care of them, my dad knew he had to do something. He just did not know what, or how. He was such a mess- how could he raise three girls?

One night after using and drinking heavily, he had an argument with God. He was sleeping out of his car by the river and cried out to God. He asked God to help him and show him the way… instantly my dad was sobered! And since that night he has not touched anything.

My grandparents on my dad’s side helped my dad to get a place for us kids to live in. They helped my dad take his ex-wife to court and get custody of my two half-sisters. My dad began to take us to church regularly; he got involved in NA & AA and went from being the meth addict at work to starting the “Drug Free Club” at his factory. He took parenting classes and sought God to show him how to be a good dad. And he was! I don’t remember my dad going many places without us. We were always going to fairs, church events, parades, plays, camping, biking, etc. I even went with my dad to most of his NA & AA meetings. For the first time I had a functioning family and I was learning about the love of Jesus. 

When my mom’s six months was up she returned home. My dad had only received temporary custody of me while my mom was in treatment. So when my mom returned I was expected to go back and live with her. I told my dad that I did not want to go back. He had a talk with my mom and she agreed to let me live with my dad. Well, that only lasted a week or so and then she decided that she wanted me to live with her. I told my dad that I did not want to stay with my mom and my dad was forced to take my mom to court to get custody of me. Since I was older, it was basically my choice. I met with a mediator and told him why I did not want to live with my mom and the life I had at my dad’s home. My dad was awarded custody.

My mom stopped using meth- but unfortunately she did not stop drinking. She began to replace her drug habit with her alcohol habit and turned into a full blown alcoholic.  She stopped partying but instead became a depressed hermit. When I visited her she drank the whole time and we sat at home doing nothing.

Seeing how my dad changed and my mom could not, I became very bitter towards her. Why could he become a good dad but she could not become a good mom? My visits to her became less and less and for almost four years I rarely saw her at all.

In attending church on a regular basis I learned about the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. I accepted Jesus into my heart at a Wednesday night youth group and was baptized. While I saw that God had changed my dad’s life, and I knew He could change mine… I hadn’t the faintest idea of how to follow Him. I do not think my dad, or myself, understood the depths to which I was lost. As I said, I kept myself looking very normal on the surface. My initial impression of following God was Actions. I thought that if I read my Bible, went to youth group, church camp and discipleship, that God would make my life perfect. If I just did enough to be perfect for God, He would love me and take care of me.

                 Depression      Shame              Isolation  

Suicidal Thoughts      Rejection       Alone      

           Scared         Hopeless        Trapped                         

                                    Cry      HELP ME

Anyone who has ever followed God in this way knows that it never works. While I tried my hardest to do all of the things I was suppose to do, my mind was still a mess. Shortly after I accepted Christ I began having bouts of depression and isolation. It was not long until I was having suicidal thoughts. All the while I still attended my church events with diligence, hoping God would see how good I was and HELP ME.

I struggled daily as an adolescent with depression and hopelessness. In thinking that God would save me if I did enough right actions; and then still struggling with suicidal thoughts… I began to think that God had rejected me. I already held a strong sense of rejection due to my parent’s decisions growing up. I constantly tried to be a good child for both of them, and they constantly picked drugs over me. So this boiled over into my relationship with God. I felt like He did not love me; that He was rejecting me; that I was not good enough.

All of these thoughts consumed me. My depression increased. I felt ashamed, scared, alone, hopeless and did not know how to change any of it.

My dad worked a lot of overtime to support three girls. He had no financial help from either of our mothers. I would take care of my sisters during the day. When my dad got home I often would retreat to my room to be alone. I spent many evenings by myself, trapped in my own head and dwelling on my thoughts. I cried myself to sleep many nights… Then I would awake, put a smile on my face and repeat the day.

“God… where are You?”

This will be the last of my Backlight posts. You should now have a glimpse into where I come from and how I got to Jesus. This is the point where many think that becuase I have accepted Jesus that things will get easier and better... well they get a lot harder from here. I am spiritually attacked and finding my way to God is like walking through barbed wire, blindfolded. God never says it will be easy, but it is always worth it! So my journey to becoming who Christ wants me to be begins here... with a prayer.

The Grass Was Not Greener On The Other Side...

So, Where was my daddy?

While I lived with my mother for 13 years, my father also had regular visitation of me. While my dad and I now have a great relationship, it was not always the case. My father also had a drug addiction and sold methamphetamine.

I will state that there was a difference between my mother’s drug problem and my father’s drug problem. My mother was addicted to drugs due to her trying to cope (or not cope) with what had happened to her in her childhood. She used drugs and alcohol to numb the pain and dull the memories. My mother’s side occupation of selling drugs was basically to sustain her own addiction. She sold because she used. My father on the other hand used because he sold. My dad did not have any deep underlying family issues or extremely traumatic situations to struggle through. My dad was simply raised as an Army brat who moved frequently and therefore had trouble making and maintaining friendships with others. When he realized that selling drugs made you popular and created easy friendships- he went with it. Now, if you sell drugs, you have to use them also. Otherwise people would think you were a nark, right? So my dad’s usage came from his frequency in the drug world and slowly took hold of his life before he knew it. It was a very slow and gradual decent into his rock bottom.

“My dad was good at selling…we had classic cars, motorcycles and tons of guns!”

My dad, unlike my mother, was good at the business aspect of selling narcotics. He kept himself fairly low key. I never remember crazy parties or random people coming in and out of my dad’s home. He held the same job for 16 years, rarely ever moved homes, never ran with a gang, did not have tattoos and, for the most part, stayed out of jail. If someone ever needed to be “taken care of” (for owing money or such), my dad had guys who did that for him. My dad spent his “side-job” money on extravagant things. He always had classic cars, tons of custom bikes and lots of guns. We kids always had the newest bicycles, latest toys and he even bought me a dog from Europe one time.

Even though my dad was a functioning drug addict, it was not always the lesser evil of the two options. My dad’s home was full of chaos also- because of his bad choice in women.

After my mom and dad divorced my dad started dating my mom’s best friends, little sister. She was younger than my dad and HOT- according to everyone. Her dad was also the corrupt Chief of Police in the city my dad lived in. Which I think kept the law off my dad’s back. She had a son from a previous marriage and within three years they had two girls together. Finally they decided to get married when I was around five. I don’t think I cared much for her because I’m not smiling in any of the wedding pictures.

After they got married, my dad’s wife drug addiction got really heavy. With a constant available supply it was not long before the using consumed her. My dad tried to cut her down… but if you have ever took meth away from a meth head, you know that it is never good. A meth addict who doesn’t have their meth becomes really angry. Therefore, violence started occurring in the house on a regular basis. My dad’s wife would scream, throw things & attack my dad right in front of us kids. I was the oldest and would often grab the other three and take them outside when the fights would start. One time she came after my dad with a butcher knife and when the police showed up they took my dad to jail. While he was locked up, she proceeded to sell all of his items so she could get her drug money. (I think my dad hid his money from her).

The chaos in my dad’s home gradually got worse and worse. I had many traumatic experiences there even though I did not live there on a regular basis. I had a very big imagination as a kid…which is not necessarily a bad thing- as long as your big imagination is not fueled by insecurity, fear, anxiety & contributions from your crazy parents!

                   Fear of Freddy…

 While my dad and his wife did drugs my babysitter was often the TV… which may not have been so bad if Sponge Bob-Square Pants was on. But my dad’s wife had an obsession with the movie Nightmare on

Elm Street,

and therefore I was forced to sit and watch the horror movie by myself while the adults entertained themselves. This caused me to have an Extreme fear of the movie and of the dark. Until about a year ago I could not even say the name of the movie and if I even heard someone speak of it I would have nightmares for several nights. I am still not the best in the dark. If I am alone I have to have a light on to sleep.

                        Paranoia…

As my dad’s addiction got worse there was a lot of paranoia. The two of them would always talk about people following us and tapping into our phone lines. I don’t think they knew this affected me but it did. I became very paranoid myself. Even when I was not with them, I would constantly feel like someone was following me. At school lunch time I would sit and look out the big glass windows at the quiet country street outside. As I ate lunch I would watch the cars and sometimes I would think I saw the same car pass by over and over. I would think “They are trying to find me…” I would watch the cars travel behind the bus to make sure none were following me home and as I walked a mile from my bus stop to my house I constantly looked behind me. I would often switch up my routes home. I had three different routes: The street, which had lots of houses, trees and building to hide behind; The lake, which had a very open sandy area where I could see everything around me; and the levee, which had the river on one side and was higher than the street on the other… so I could look down and make sure no one was around me. Sometimes I would not even get off at my bus stop; I would go with my friend, who was the next stop, get off with her, walk to her house, then make her brother row me across the river in their little boat and then I would walk the levee home from there.

                        An unseen world…

At one point in my dad’s wife’s addiction she began to see and hear things. She heard voices in her head telling her to do things. She began to see terrible things also. Any time she climbed onto a chair or stool she would start screaming, saying she saw HELL beneath her. She would also have nightmares and when she awoke she would see a demon sitting on her stomach looking at her. She would scream and cry and get angry very often. With all of this going on, my own paranoia went from thinking there was someone following me to thinking there was something following me. My fear of the dark got worse. I often thought there were things under my bed or watching me from outside my window. Even during the day I would think things were watching me and following me. At this point I was not that young either- I was about 10 or 11. I ended up meeting a girl in school who felt similar to me. Being very frightened and wanting to get rid of the feelings- her and I started exploring ways we could protect ourselves. We tried an Ouija board, which I do not EVER recommend doing! Eventually we ended up messing around with some magic and studying witchcraft. I also did a lot of studying on demons and angels and on the war of the unseen world. I thought in my research and experimentation maybe I could gain some power over what ever I thought was around me. I can say that none of this helped me to feel more safe or secure. In fact, it made things worse and made me more aware of the spiritual world than I ever needed to be.

            “I was an internal mess!”

With all of the insecurity, fear, madness, sickness and violence at my mothers home, coupled with the anxiety, paranoia & fear at my dad’s home- I was an internal mess as a child. I say internal because most of my suffering could not be seen from the outside. On the outside I seemed to cope with the chaos around me very well. I held good grades, I was a nice kid, I listened well to authorities in my life, I was creative and artistic, I held my emotions well, seemed very mature for my age and had a generally liked and attractive personality. The only way my inner struggles manifested themselves on the surface was that I struggled with severe headaches since I was around six. The stress of maintaining an outside wellness, while hiding my inner sickness, would often create hours of pain in the form of a headache.

All of this would contribute to the struggle I would face in my adult life to control my mind and emotions. The battle in my mind would become the wall that would separate me from my God given purpose for so long. But God was still with me… and would eventually teach me how to have peace and eliminate madness.

MATTHEW BARNETT: OBLITERATE SHAME

MATTHEW BARNETT: OBLITERATE SHAME

This is a great blog by Matthew Barnett on the effects of Shame and how we as the people of God are to treat others. I dealt with shame for many years of my life. Shame is a life sucking virus that leaves no room for the grace of God. We must obliterate shame in order to reach those who are far from the Lord.

Read and enjoy...

I Emerged From The Black Hole That Was My Life

Where I come from does not define who I am-

If you have ever studied psychology, you will learn that people often turn out in the same way they were raised. Being raised by a drug addict increases your chances of becoming an addict yourself. Often, those abused become the abusers and those abused sexually by someone of the same sex, become homosexuals. If you come from a broken home, you are more likely to have a broken home- and so on and so on. If you look at the statistics, this is the norm. There are very few people who escape the generational curses that surround them. The way your are raised, the values you consume and the people you are surrounded with will decide the way you will live your life.

However, there is One who can change you! There is One who can teach you a new way. He can teach you a way that will turn you from all you ever knew and give you a life you never thought you could have.

I feel I must give you a backlight into my life as I have defied the statistics. I have not done everything right and I can not say I have not repeated many of the behaviors I witnessed growing up. But I can say that I have a God who has changed me from the inside out and who has shown me the way to live life. I did not have many examples to follow, but I discovered a God who could guide me and help me to become the person I wanted to be.

So here is my history… this is where I come from.

Part 1: 13 years in the Desert.

            I come from a family plagued with generational curses. Some of them I have broken, some of them I repeated my self. They include divorce, drug & alcohol addiction, poor money management, physical abuse, sexual abuse, incest, homosexuality, mental disorders and suicide – to name a few. From a young age my life was filled with chaos and uncertainty.

            My parents divorced when I was three. I grew up in the central valley of CA, which produced 80% of the United States’ methamphetamine during the late 80’s – early 90’s. Both of my parents used and sold methamphetamine. When my parents split, I went to live with my mother. The constant fights between the two led my grandparents to step in and coordinate any communication between the two families. Since I was three I have only seen my parents speak to each other a hand full of times – I’m 27 now.

            Chaos                        Confusion                   Drugs          

              Sex         Violence                           Isolation

 

My mother was very unstable. She never held a job for long. I remember one fast food place she worked in because she would bring me to work with her. I would sit in the back office with my feet up in a chair as the cockroaches ran around. We moved constantly. Often we lived with my grandmother – but my mom would get a new job so she would want to move out. So we would move out for a while, then something would happen and we would move back to my grandma’s. My mom always had different boyfriends. Two of my favorites being the one who slept with my moms sister and got her pregnant and the one who used to beat my mom in front of me on a regular basis.

“I had to call 911..” I had to call 911 when I was 8 on him because he was pulling my mom up the stairs and was going to throw her out of our two story window. My mom frequently drug me to her parties. I remember many nights sitting awake in some strangers house listening to what was going on in the next rooms (which was never anything good. Drugs, alcohol and promiscuity are things a child should not be exposed to). I also remember many times having to help people carry my mom to a car so someone could drive us home. She often became belligerent when she was drunk and was yelling and screaming… or she was sobbing uncontrollably. She rarely ever was a “fun drunk.” There were many people in and out of my life and my home growing up. As I said, my mom used and sold drugs, so there were always new faces and missing faces.  My mom was obviously not very good at the business aspect of selling- because we were always poor. She was on welfare and food stamps, I got free lunch, wore clothes from yard sales and always had shoes that were too small for me. We often lived in one bedroom homes or apartments where one of our bedrooms was in the living room.

            Abuse        Drugs          Madness            Homosexuality                        Suicide               Jail            AIDS             

                                Rejection              Alone         

           

            My grandmother’s home was slightly more stable. I did have my own room and she had a fairly big modular home with a good sized back yard. When we were living at my grandmother’s, I did not have to go to the parties with my mom. But I hardly ever remember my mom even being at home. My grandma did her best to take care of me but she was sick for many years. From around six years old, I would put myself to bed at 8pm, set my own alarm, get myself ready for school, make my own breakfast, walk a mile to the bus stop to get to school, etc. I pretty much took care of myself all of the time.

“I may have been exempt from parties… but I was exposed to something even worse- MY FAMILY.”  

Also, I may have been exempt from parties while living with my grandmother, but I was exposed to something even worse – my family. My grandma was the glue that held my mothers side of the family together. She not only took in my mom and I when we were homeless, but she had six other kids that were constantly moving in and out. And to put it lightly…my mother’s side of the family is a friggin’ mess! My mom has four older brothers and two younger sisters. I will not name them but will communicate them by the first letter of their names.

Also, I can say there is a very logical reason why every member of the entire family is so messed up, but I am not at liberty to post this information for public display at this time.

The most stable of the seven would have to be my eldest uncle, uncle J. Uncle J was married at one point and had a son- then he discovered he was gay, divorced his wife and has been with men ever since. Before he found his long-term life-partner, he contracted AIDS and has lived several years with the disease. He has actually had the same boyfriend since I was little and it is probably the longest, most stable relationship I have witnessed in my family (even though it is a sinful relationship). Of the other brothers, uncle R is a very angry alcoholic, known to abuse women and also has bouts with cocaine addiction. Uncle R frequently gets clean & relapses. When he is clean & sober he is a pretty awesome person, and when he is using no one wants him around. Uncle D is a bisexual, drug addict with HIV. He is addicted to methamphetamine, has a son (who I believe also has HIV that was contracted at birth) and used to molest my cousin when we were younger. He used to sleep with some 80 year old man when he was in his 30’s who would provide him with a nice place to live in SoCal, nice cars and lots of money. Uncle D sees nothing wrong with his lifestyle or his choices. He is probably the most demented one of them all and I was lucky enough to never be left alone with him when I was younger. Uncle B committed suicide via heroin one month after my grandma died. He had actually been clean for quite some time when he overdosed. I think the death of his father, followed by the death of my grandmother two months later put him over the edge. When I was growing up uncle B was a drug addict who was frequently in and out of jail. He used to transport drugs into the jail/prisons by hiding the product… well I’m sure you can guess where. From what I understand he also had sexual relations with my aunt B for many years- even though he was married. My mother was the eldest of the three girls and often was their protector and savior from a lot of the horrible things that went on when they were growing up. This makes me think she most likely took the brunt of most of the abuse in order to protect them. However, she is over five years older than both of them and moved out early on. Leaving them to try and cope with things they had probably been protected from for years. My aunt C is the next eldest under my mom. Aunt C is a lesbian with bipolar disorder I. She often goes on and off of her medication. When she is not medicated she has delusions where she thinks she is different people or is in different places and or different eras of time. When she is unstable you can find her on a street corner of Modesto, CA selling her body for drugs and incredibly out of her mind. The youngest of them all is aunt B who has been schizophrenic for about 12 years now. Aunt B has two children. One daughter who was born 24 hrs and 22 min after I was (we will call her A) and one son that she does not see. Since A and I were so close in age, the two of us grew up very close. A was molested by my uncle D on a regular basis and therefore had a tendency to turn some of this on me. Luckily, it did not last into my later years as my cousin A had to move away when my aunt B became schizophrenic and could no longer care for her. Aunt B spends most of her time in a permanent mental hospital. Sometimes they can get her stable enough to live on her own, but she usually stops taking her meds and has to be admitted once again. As for cousin A, she is a lesbian with two children that were conceived by her drug dealer. She is frequently in and out of jail as she is a car thief by profession. I have not seen her in years but my dad did see her in a NA meeting a few years ago and said she had a good amount of clean time. So hopefully she straightened her life out.

            I lived with my mother for 13 years of my life.

           This was my family.

These were the people I celebrated birthdays with, Christmas and Thanksgiving with. These were the people I had as “examples” in my life.

            My grandma often tried to distance and protect me from the family. My grandmother, though good to me, was a very judgmental person. So you can imagine how she felt about the path that her children had taken. Many of them often complained about her criticism. However, my grandma was very different towards me. She often spoke words of encouragement and praise to me. She spent time with me as she could, loved me and always believed the best in me.  But it seemed I was an isolated case. She did not even act this way towards my cousin A, who was only hours younger than me. And as far as I know she hardly communicated with any of my other cousins. The difference in treatment between me and my aunts, uncles, and cousins caused a lot of tension between me and my mother’s side of the family. My aunt C voiced her opinions most and directed her resentment towards me often. I was kind of an outcast from the family- though that was probably not a bad thing.

I don’t know how it is He look at me and saw the person I could be- not the person I was likely to become.

I thank God every day that he has provided me the opportunity NOT to live life as I learned it, but to live life as He designed it. Becuase of Him I will experience something that I never thought i could- a life I never thought that I could have. This right is not reserved for me alone. God can change and renew the lives of anyone who wishes to follow Him. I encourage you... if you want something different- something more- something better... give Him a chance! It is worth it!

Turning Point

There comes a point in life when you must make a decision. A decision to keep going the way you are headed or the decision to try another route. Some call this “Rock Bottom”. Some call it “the fork in the road”. I call it my Turning Point. The point where I decided to turn from the life I had become so engulfed in, to the life I wanted to have. 

 "There comes a point in life when you must make a decision."           

I have been in church since I was young. My spiritual life was always full of ups and downs- of bouts where faith prevailed, and bouts of disbelief. Therefore, I always thought I identified with Peter (from the Bible). Peter loved God but constantly struggled with his ups and downs. I always envied those who had a Pauline experience. See Paul, formerly Saul, had a genuine turning point in his life where He experienced God, turned from his old ways and never looked back. With my dad being in recovery ministry, I often heard of these experiences. Experiences where God appeared to people, or saved people in the midst of death, or sobered people in an instant as they cried out to God! I think I longed for this experience for a long time. I had plenty of experiences where I felt God should have “showed up”, should have shown Himself to me, saved me, cured me, and sobered me. But He didn’t – so I thought.

I was mad at God for a long time. I was so mad that there were even several years that I denied His existence. In my heart, I knew He was there – but I was really, really, really pissed off at Him! I never understood the concept of grace. I had grown up trying to earn the love and affection of those around me by acting a certain way, speaking a certain way and looking a certain way. So logically, I applied the same principles to my faith. I went to youth group, church camp, discipleship class, Sunday school, read my Bible, prayed, and talked about God to others. In doing this, I expected God to honor me and make my life better. (FYI- God does not honor us, we are to honor Him) Well, my mutilated fairy tale did not get any better. In fact, it got worse and worse. In response, I became angry and bitter towards God and all that He had afflicted me with. I often found myself saying “Do you even know what you are doing up there?!”

So when did it change? And what exactly changed?

I wish I could pin point the date – but those days were so blurred for me. They all seemed to run together. With the combination of medications, liquor, insomnia and withdraw it’s a wonder I even held down a job during these times in my life. I may not be able to pin point the date (though it was somewhere between June-Sept of 2009) but I can pin point the moment. It was a moment where I had escaped death, again. It was the moment when I knew I could chose life, and if I did not at least try to do something different – I would surely end up where I had longed to be for so long.

                   "Why me?"

I struggled with thoughts of suicide for at least 12 years of my life. The life I grew up in was hard, to say the least. I often looked at the lives of others and wanted what they had. I used to ask God, “Why me?” As I hit my teen years my mind, emotions and actions really got out of control. I wanted my life to be different but had no idea how to change it, or if it would ever change. I often felt hopeless. The feeling of hopelessness led me to yearn to not be in this world anymore. I often cried to God and asked Him to take me. I told Him that there was NO WAY I could go through the rest of my life like this! This went on for years. I prayed for God to send a Holy bus to run me over (literally, this was my prayer). I cursed God that I had survived a horrible car accident when I was 17. My constant desire to die became so indwelled into my consciousness that I even had involuntary visions of myself dying in gruesome ways. And when I say involuntary, I mean involuntary. I could be standing in a crowd of people, not thinking of death at all, and suddenly be overcome with a vision of myself dying. I would be unresponsive to the people around me, turn pale, start sweating, sometimes tears would roll down my face and as I emerged back into reality I would become dizzy and nauseous. Needless to say, some of the people around me thought I was crazy - but so did I and so did the doctors.

One night, after drinking heavily and driving myself home in an intoxicated and sobbing state, my desire took hold of me. My ex-husband found me lying on the floor next to an empty bottle of pills. Obviously, I did not die that night. I can not say that I got my Pauline experience and that God showed Himself to me as I lie unconscious on the floor… but I can say that God let me know that next day that I had a choice to make. God had something planned for me. He had told me this many times in my life already. But I could not see the light that led to that path through all of the mess I had went through and was still going through. God revealed in my heart that I could either decide to live and see what He had in store for me, or I could die.

           "That was my Turning Point"

This was my turning point. I did not see angels or heaven or God himself. I did not in an instant entrust to Him everything or suddenly regain my sanity and my life turned perfect. I simply made a choice to see what God had for me. I made a choice that day to seek Him and asked Him to reveal Himself to me.

Maybe that is all you need to do today. Make the choice to seek Him. I promise that if you do, you will find Him. He will show Himself to you in all of His glory and change your life forever. The road is not easy, and He never said it would be. But it is worth it! Remember, nothing in life that is worth it is ever easy.

I hope in my continuing posts that I can show you how to seek Him. I know I had to have others pour into me and show me the way. I followed my own way for many years and never even got close to where I am now! God puts people in our lives to help us, so let them help you. Don’t try and do it alone!

Make today your Turning Point!