Parenting From Your Own Slate

Dr. Phil states one of my favorite concepts about parenting. He states that children are a blank slate that we, as parents write on. What we write, with our words and actions, determine who our kids believe they are, what type of behavior they count acceptable, and who they will eventually become.

The problem is each of us have our own slates. And often, we simply transfer what is on our slate onto the slates of our children. Well, thats great if you have a slate full of positive, affirming and encouraging information on your slate. And not so good if you have a life full of shit that has been scratched and permanently scarred into your slate.

We are often told that when we receive Christ that he wipes our slate clean and we are made new. I partially agree with this statement. The problem with it is that this is made to seem like an overnight transformation, which it is not. The statement might be better grasped by saying that when we receive Christ he BEGINS THE PROCESS of wiping our slate clean and making us new.

When I surrendered everything to the Lord there were certain things he changed immediately. For example, my desire to end my life. God took that from me. There was no process, God just took it from me and I have never suffered from those thoughts again. On the other hand, there are still scratches on my slate. There are things He left me with, which He slowly repairs in me, filling in the scars and writing over them with His love and promises.

Parenting is one of the most scratched and scarred areas for me. I did not have parents when i was young, that encouraged me, spoke life into me, are affectionate towards me or that even spent a lot of time with me. Therefore, my reflection of parenting is labeled as "criticise," "discipline," "ignore," and "distance." This is my automatic, default parenting skills as this is what I was taught was "parenting."

Because of my past, I often get discouraged when I ask people how it is to be a mom and I hear, "oh, its the greatest!" or "Its the best thing ever!" My immediate thought is that there must be something wrong with me. Because if I'm honest, my response would be, "Its the hardest thing I've ever had to do." Being a mom does not come easily or even very naturally to me. I struggle, constantly. I probably have more bad days than good. I may not scream at them, but my thoughts tend to be more of annoyance and intolerance than of love and acceptance. And to me, that defines a bad day. Even if I don't voice it, I know that my inner thoughts control my body language, my looks, my attention. And kids are smart enough to pick up on those things. I am also a task oriented person and i often get consumed in what needs to be done rather than spending quality time with my children. I honestly can not recount that many moments where I laugh with my kids. I spend most of my time consumed with making sure they are brushing their teeth, doing their reading, chores, etc. And at the end of the day I sit back and know that I am not the "fun" parent. In all of this, my view of parenting becomes more of a chore than "the best thing ever!"

Yet in my struggle, I have been forced to rely on God every day- which is really a blessing in disguise. I don't know how to be a good mom and i struggle with it daily because I take it very seriously. I am, after all, responsible for the life of three human beings. What i do, say and how I act WILL effect them. I know this from my past experience and sometimes it places a lot of pressure on me. I know, and desire, to be more fun, more life-giving, more encouraging and more affectionate. The fact that i don't know how does not give me an excuse to remain the same. What it does require me to do is look to Jesus and learn how to be the parent that i am naturally incapable of being. Jesus had fun with children. He laughed with them, loved on them and taught them. Children flocked to Him and felt safe and cherished by Him. This is how I want my children to feel around me.

I often find when I begin my day by praying and submitting it to the Lord, my day goes a lot better. I pray that Jesus show me how to be a fun and loving parent. I pray that my thoughts and words will reflect that of encouragement, acceptance and love. I pray that He gives me tolerance and patience when dealing with difficult circumstances, which will surely come up. I tell God that this day is not mine with my children, but His and ask that he would work through me to communicate and reflect Christ to them. And it is amazing-when I do this my day goes so much easier. God does truly take over. I am able to let the little things go, laugh, praise and enjoy time with my kids. When I have a rough day I can usually look back and realize I didn't start my day by giving it to God. Without the Lord life becomes more difficult and I rely on those scratches and scars on my slate to direct me.

If you are like me, and parenting is difficult. You are not alone. Look to Jesus and lean on Him to show you how to be a good parent. What is written on your slate does not have to define what will be written on your children's slate. God can repair your scratches and write over them with the way of the Lord. You can break the cycle and your kids can have the childhood that you only dreamed of. It will not be easy. You will struggle. But your struggle is a worthwhile one, and God will always be there to guide, direct and love you through it.

Hurting People, Hurt People

I often pray that God will allow me to see people as he sees them and not as I might see them. The Lord has been breaking my heart for the last few weeks. He has been opening my eyes to a hurting and dying world and reminding me of where I have come from. You see, God has done so much for me and changed me in an amazing way, but sometimes I get caught up in my new life and forget that there are people out there who are where I once was. And those people need Jesus.

If you talk to most Christians they will tell you that they want to save the poor, the drug users & dealers, the prostitutes, the suicidal, the broken & the tormented. Yet, when they encounter the sins of these people they become appalled and run as far as they can. I too am guilty of this. I am often impatient, judgmental and intolerable. But in these people I see myself. I see myself before Christ.

And then God reminds me of how he has changed me…

It was not long ago that I was the hurting person that hurt people. For so long people had sinned against me and made me so cold to any form of love or compassion. I, in turn, sinned against others and against God. The weight of it all was so much to carry. I carried around painful memories that would rear their ugly heads to torment me. I carried around the wrongs that I had done to others and the conviction that I was a bad and harmful person. Every step of the way I lied, cheated and did what I had to do to protect myself and survive (if you want to call that surviving). And in the end I was an empty, hollow shell of a person who could not love myself or allow the love of others. When you are in that kind of pain you don’t think of right and wrong- you do what you have to do to make it to the next day. Until one day you are so fed up with your life that you don’t want a next day, you don’t even want a next hour.

Sometimes, as I drive down the freeway I look at the flood of cars all around me, and I wonder how many of those people feel the way I described above. And it makes me want to cry. It brings me back to a time when I was hopeless and I so desperately needed Jesus.

So many people around us need Jesus. Yet, we look at their sin with disgust and contempt. We compare their morality with ours and determine that they are “bad people”. But the Bible says that we ALL sin and fall short of the glory of God. It is so humbling to know that a Holy God looked at me, in my sin, and sent his son to die that I might be able to have life with Him. And he didn’t just do it for me. He did it for that person that I work for that lies and cheats everyone around him, he did it for the girl who uses her body as a tool to financially survive, for the drug addict that steals, for the man that abandons his kids. God loves those hurting people that hurt people. He wants to heal them and give them new life.

I have had people ask me how it was that my life changed- my answer is Jesus. There was no 5 point plan or program or prescription. There were some believers who loved me and showed me a God that loved me. They showed me a God that loved me just as I was, with no string attached. They showed me a God who saw my potential and that had a plan for my life. And once they showed me all I had to do was surrender. Some people hear the word surrender and think “that’s all I have to do?” But complete surrender is no easy task. It requires that you give up everything. And by everything, I mean everything. You let go of all control and trust God with your life.

When I finally surrendered to God I was to the point where I could not live life on my own anymore. And that is often the point where we need to be. Most of us are stubborn, selfish children who think we can manage all on our own. It is not until we have royally screwed up everything that we finally commit to letting God have control.

As I look around into the eyes of people on the streets, in my workplace and driving in my car- I honestly feel that there are many people that are to the point of surrender in their lives- they just don’t know what to do. So many people are hurting and overwhelmed and just waiting for an answer. The answer is the gospel! It is our jobs, as those who Jesus has saved, to show the love of Christ. This love should be patient, unconditional and unfailing. It is only through the love of Jesus that we will be able to reach the hurting people who hurt people.

Love, Grace & Chick-Fil-A

As most of you know, yesterday was Chick-Fil-A appreciation day. And as I pulled into my local Chick-fil-A in Knoxville I was teary eyed at the sight of so many supporting an organization who holds to it's Biblical values. It gave me great joy to know that someone stood up for their beliefs and did not back down when asked about them- and that so many people would show their support for someone who did so. You see, I believe for too long so many of us have been silent. The longer we are silent the more God is taken out of our schools, workplaces and nation. So I commend the CEO of Chick-fil-A for expressing his beliefs, and doing so in an un-condemning way.



However, I should have known that I would wake up this morning to read disturbing reports of what went on at some Chick-fil-A's yesterday. You see, just as there are "good" unbelievers and "bad" unbelievers, there are also "good" believers and "bad" believers. We are all sinners, and though I believe many of us who follow Jesus try to live our lives according to his example, there are always the ones that you want to take your Bible and hit them over the head with it. Some of the things that come out of the mouths of so called "Christians" can just be appauling. And what I read in some of the Huffington Post this morning about comments made during Chick-fil-A appreciation day were sad and cruel and NOT what Jesus would have wanted displayed on a day that we were appreciating someone who stood for Jesus' commands.

I have family members that are homosexual. And guess what? I love them no differently from any other member in my family. In fact, my family members who are homosexual probably sin less than my family who are "straight" yet go around doing drugs, stealing, raping and molesting children. So in the light of some of the things that may have been said yesterday by "Christian" Chick-fil-A supporters, I would like to clarify.



Jesus mentions the word "Grace" approximately 128 times in the New Testiment. Not only is grace emphasized, but Jesus frequently spoke of & exhibited love, compassion, forgiveness and mercy. And this was not to the "religious", but to those who were considered sinners. Jesus surrounded himself with those who were in need of a savior and spoke life into their hearts. Therefore, our actions as believers of Jesus Christ should be the same. We were not put here to judge! That is the job of God and God alone. We are put here to be a light into a dark world. To bring the hope, peace and joy that only Jesus can offer. When you spout of at the mouth with words of hatered or condemnation you are NOT exhibiting that your life is full of hope, peace or joy. So why then do you think any unbeliever would be attracted to the way you live your life and want to come to know Jesus when you seem full or anger and bitterness to people who are not like you? We as believers cannot hold any unbeliever to the standards of God, for they are not saved. What they need is Jesus. And if we want to reach them we do so by imitating the actions of our savior and how He demonstrated that we reach people. Any other way is unacceptable to God. If you as a believer feel hatred towards a person, or specific group of people, then I advise you to examine your relationship with God.



To anyone out there who may have felt the backlash of some so called "Christians", I sincerely apologize and want you to know that Jesus Christ loves you and accepts you- the way you are. We all come to Jesus as flawed and screwed up people. But God does not see us as the person we currently are, he sees us as the person we can become. He sees our potential through him. The peace and joy that you can experience through Jesus is like no other. I can't even begin to explain it. All I can say is that he has made me a different person and given me a new life- one that I could have never imagined. And I encourage anyone who does not know him to seek him! And that means anyone, regardless of age, gender, race or sexual orientation. Jesus is accessible to ALL! There are no rules or regulations of how you have to act or behave when you come to Christ. You come to him, submit your life and he will do the rest. And though some Christians may act a fool sometimes, there are those of us out there who genuinely love the world and are here to help, love and fellowship with those who need Christ. Those of us who will show you the love of a savior without strings attached or holding condemnation over your head. Those of us who will pray for you and be there to support you as God does a tremendous work in your life!

I thank all of you who came out and supported Chick-fil-A yesterday and who continuously practice the grace & love of our savior, Jesus Christ.



Melissa

Relationship - Not Religion

Have you ever been so busy that you neglected to spend time with a close friend? Have you ever missed them?

Have you ever felt this way about God?

I recently had a baby. Not only did I have a baby but we also go custody of my step-son. I went from having all of the time in the world to being a full time working wife and mother of two. And I can honestly say that I miss the quality time that I used to get to spend with God. I miss him so much that it hurts. It's like losing touch with a close friend or moving far away from your family. I used to take for granted the extra time that I had in my life to spend with him. Now I don't. Because now, somewhere in between working 9 hours a day, driving to school, driving to the babysitters, hauling to sports practices and birthday parties, changing diapers, making bottles, making baby food, cooking diner, cleaning, doing laundry and getting everyone in bed in time for the next day, I have to now find time to squeeze in God. And that sounds horrible, but it's true. And I'm sure it is not just true for me- but for most mothers. I have went to sleep and cried because I just miss God.
Now I know he is still with me. I still pray and worship on my way to work. But I don't get to just sit down, when I want and where i want and spend time with him. It is amazing to me how I used to take that time for granted. Like I had the rest of my life to spend with him... now I wish I just had 30 minutes- alone- with silence and stillness.

However, through this I have realized that I desperately NEED God in my life. The fact that I miss him so much that I cry at night is astounding to me! It shows me how much my relationship wit God has improved over the last few years. Looking back there were many times where I drifted far from him. Times when I didn't pray as much, worship as much or read as much... and honestly, It didn't bother me. The fact that it does now shows me that my relationship with God has come a long way.

God I pray today that I take every opportunity, with every free second I am given, to talk with you, meditate on you and dwell in your presence. I pray that over this week I am given free moments to learn about you and spend time in your Word. I miss you God, and I thank you that we are close enough that I feel empty when you are far from me. Thank you for everything you have done, and will continue to do in my life. Amen

And the baby is now awake... good timing!

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...