Tried and Tested

I mentioned when coming to YHWH in Messiah, He healed my mind.  I’ll discuss more of that as we go, but for now, I have to address how I almost lost my healing.  Rather, I should say, almost gave up my healing.  Life got very, very painful between 2007 and 2012.  I continued to function, but crafted myself a pseudonym for a blog that wasn’t private, but separate from my “already respected work” on the web.  Life was so painful, I found myself fearing my mind would fragment again or simply shatter.  YHWH is good!  He held me together in the mind of Messiah.   I “stayed together” but was sadly aware of the entire bleakness and rejection.  It was a test, and I remember the day I heard, the test was over.

The pseudonym afforded me a venting avenue, as well as being able to read it and remain aware, that it was indeed my life.  For that five years, life was just intensely painful to the point of grievous.  Even with the Comforter, I couldn’t let go of the pain.  It would subside for awhile, and then overtake me like a flood.  When I wrote this in May of 2013, the test had ended 7 months earlier, but the horrific grief lingered.  I was giving great consideration to telling my truth in novel form, but as I’ve mentioned, there was no peace in that.  So it sat for a year in my “secret blog” under the pseudonym, but no more entries were added.  I knew the truth.  I didn’t have any of the old blank spaces, but it really felt good to view my life as an outsider . . . just for a few moments.  That was when I realized I was at a cross roads.  If I continued to write under the pseudonym it would be like putting my hand to the plow and looking back.  The pain would remain and the confusion of dissociation could very well return, or I could share the truth and proclaim what healing I’ve been given.   This website has made it official!  I have let go of the pain to move forward in the plan by the author and finisher of my faith and share the life in which I’ve been blessed.

The following is that final entry.

There is a woman who is the religious type and considerably outside of mainstream. She’s not a Bible thumper, per se, but she doesn’t let anyone talk her out of what she knows. Her statement is simple. She says, “she doesn’t know it all, but she personally knows the One Who does.”

This woman is living a fairly respectable life, as life in America goes. She took her walk on the wild side in her late teens and rocked that downward spiral until her early 30’s but in her words, had an encounter with G-d that changed everything. The direction of her life literally changed overnight. She wasn’t a big partier, just trying and failing at mainstream, constantly, with a serious emotional disadvantage, and what she calls,”walking outside the favor of G-d.” She now believes in keeping the personal laws of the Hebrew Scriptures, but believes in Messiah also.   She believes that He was the final sacrifice and the Temple is not standing in Jerusalem, so she makes no animal sacrifices and she believes America is a continuation of ancient Rome . . .

She’s been walking this path, serving the G-d of Israel, for as many years as she spent on the wrong path as an adult. Not only does she believe life is spiritually based, but she’s practical as well. She files her taxes, doesn’t have any outstanding traffic tickets or overdue library books. She’s written a cookbook, a few religious books, blogs incessantly and has established a simplistic lifestyle of homesteading. She maintains several domains and has a soap and natural health product business. What a renegade? But enough about her, she’s not the point of my blog. It’s watching her circle of influence that blows my mind.

She prays regularly for a sister who is in prison for child abuse while the inference has been made by her parents that her potential inheritance would reflect their disappointment.  Her disdain for child abuse was perceived as a lack of loyalty toward her sister in her time of need. She did, however; write a letter to her sister’s attorney offering help, trying to direct them in the path that she had heard in prayer. When the trouble first became known, she was asked to pray and even gave a word as to the outcome if they didn’t change the direction.  She mentioned a couple of things she couldn’t possibly have known, without being told from On High. Considering these factors, she still weeps for her sister, prays for her safety in prison, and that she would come to repentance.  Now that her parents are speaking to her again, she continues to honor her parents as best she knows how, sending cards and making phone calls . . .

Now, here’s the next wild thing I’ve seen. Her husband has no regard for her, unless someone important to her is watching, or he can manipulate the circumstances to make her appear cold and uncaring.   He refuses to participate in her interests, but invades and hovers in her relationships.  He rejected her on their honeymoon, but refused to divorce her.  She’s come to accept that. She said she didn’t accept it willingly at first, but when he became disabled, she simply took care of him and accepted the fact that there would never be a divorce.

She now says she’s grateful for the circumstances.  She prepares his meals, washes his clothes, and goes on with her priorities. She says she’s come to a fuller understanding of I Corinthians 7 and she’s stopped demanding that he observe and fulfill Deuteronomy 24.   She admits she used to just cry and beg that he honor that passage by giving her a divorce.   She’s actually stated that being alone is preferable to being in the wrong relationship but his indifferent rejection is as close as she can get to being single, now. So here’s this little cocky, belligerent, arrogant man who has grown a beard and will argue with anyone against Christmas trees and bacon, now disabled.   He has openly told her, as has his mother, that he’s not interested in her nor does he share the same beliefs.  Since he isn’t interested in celebrating any Holy Days, she is virtually isolated from fellowship.

Her situation with her daughter is heartbreaking. People tried to tell her years ago what a problem that daughter was, but oh no, she wouldn’t listen. She fiercely defended that child’s right to be “herself.”  Her method of mothering was in direct opposition to her own upbringing.  She simply states now, it was just not part of G-d’s plan for her to be a mother at that time.  She has verbally acknowledged that she failed miserably and hates that fact. Her daughter now hates that too, but, here’s the current situation. After calling her late last Sunday afternoon to wish her a Happy Mother’s Day and tell her mother all the lovely gifts she’d received, without sending so much as a card to her own mother, another call came Tuesday.

The daughter, middle-aged, divorced and now remarried for less than a year.  The daughter whose ex-husband has custody of their child.  The one who left her mother’s homestead screeching profanities and the most vile of degradation, in a completely outrageous act of anger and stupidity called to ask if there is anything in the Bible against being a dominatrix mistress. This woman brings exaggerated definition to the word “mockery” and possibly a whole new definition to mixing holy with profane.  Her mother acknowledges her failure, but can do nothing more. She simply asked her if she knew Y’hshuwah was coming to dinner would she serve pork chops? The daughter replied, “No absolutely not.” Then the mother asked, if she would invite Y’hshuwah to this potential new career site . . . to which the daughter replied, “Oh yes, I’d be completely comfortable with that.”   The call ended with a tearful, “I love you” and she went and took a shower . . .

Somehow in writing this in third person, I was able to read it and realize, acceptance by my “inner circle ” would be much more grievous than the rejection and disregard.   It’s given me a bold compassion to realize it isn’t about me.  Surviving the rejection of these people has certainly helped prepare me for the rejection we will face as the world embraces evil.  My mental healing has been tried and tested!  Knowing Messiah has held me through these tests of rejection and The Comforter has sustained me, the rejection of mainstream strangers doesn’t seem so overwhelming.  



Damaged Goods

This blog has been a real struggle for me.  I know Abba would not lead me to do anything that is against His Word, so I’ve pondered and prayed as to how to be honest in this blog, yet not dishonor my parents.  I know children can be born with physical problems, as well as some developmental delay mentally, but babies are for the most part an emotional blank slate.  I suppose it’s possible for an unborn child to be verbally abused in the womb, but except in the case of multiple births, the womb is a pretty non-interactive site, as human relationships go.  I once had a Sunday School teacher who claimed I was born under a spirit of rejection.  I can’t argue that . . .

Now that babies are born in hospitals, I’m sure there are spiritual and emotional impacts and impressions made upon their lives immediately.  Interestingly, hospital births and child psychology came into existence at about the same time.  So to say a baby is an emotional blank slate who develops normally or with problems is not necessarily to say the parents caused it.  In this case, I am simply going to be honest, as honest as I can be.  My parents were still children themselves when I was born, but trying desperately to prove they were adults.  They seemed to think the best way to prove that was through a high performance child.  I was a very quiet, introverted, creative child, who completely feared my parents, but desperately wanted to please them.  I spent most of my childhood simply not wanting to be seen.

Before the age was four, I knew I was chubby, I was a klutz, but I was athletic, or at least interested in sports.  I could swim, put a spin on a football, and loved the neighborhood scrub softball games, not to mention rope climbing, it was then announced that I needed to learn how to be ladylike.  I was too “big of a girl” to be a tomboy, so obviously, attention was the last thing I wanted.   On top of that news, right before I turned four, my Grandpa died and my world fell apart.  Grandpa had been my “safe place.”  After his death, I clung to Aunt Bonnie every chance I got, but at four, I couldn’t articulate why I threw myself down in front of the door, and hung on to her legs to prevent her from leaving.

By the age of three, I could already write the alphabet and my name, as well as the baby names my parents were considering for my soon to arrive sibling, but that was all expected.  I was tying a bow before the age of three, so I was clearly trying to please.  My sister arrived before Grandpa died and I wanted to help, but my mother was sure her three year old was jealous of the new baby, so I was put in my place . . . Years later, hearing stories from her younger sisters, I realize it may have been her own personal projection.  To this day, I never did figure out how to be a good big sister.

Before I went to school, I could read and tell time, but I was still a chubby klutz that didn’t know how to sit like a lady or use the proper hand to get a drink through dinner.  I was also left-handed, which seemed to be just one more disappointing fact about me.  I was really nervous about going to school.  I already had an inferiority complex about my size and skin tone, I had no idea how strange my personalit(ies) appeared.

I’m truly thankful I grew up in the time I did.  I had a great deal of difficulty finding a place to belong.  Considering today’s culture, some agenda would have had me in the sites.  Sadly, after my Grandpa died, a great part of the rest of my childhood was spent looking forward to being grown up.  By the age of 12, I was looking forward to being 40.  Forty, by the way, was fabulous!  By the time I was forty, my mind had been healed and I was simply content where I was . . .  Seeing all of life at once took some adjusting, but Messiah did indeed send the Comforter.

I’ve mentioned previously, the fact that I just wanted to be invisible.  I still struggle, at times, preferring to just fade into the background or go basically unnoticed.  That isn’t part of Abba’s plan for my life.  I simply do not go unnoticed, anywhere.  I’m not stunningly beautiful, and certainly not sophisticated or statuesque, but I still draw comments every place I go.  Thankfully, most of the comments are kind words.  Harsh comments are by and large in regard to my beliefs, or exclusively from family.   Although I am grieved, I am not taken down by them.



So Afraid

I was speaking on the phone the other day, to a friend, who is such a precious encourager.  She used a term to describe me that still causes me to well up in tears of gratitude.  She said my “stability” was such a blessing.  Me, stable?  Yes, me, stable!  I told her that was absolutely YHWH.  Before Messiah touched me, stable would be about the last word anyone would use to describe me.  Since that conversation, an old song that hit the Christian charts about 15 years ago, has been “playing” over in my mind and heart.  It was entitled, “Strollin’ on the Water.”

 walking_on_water cropped

This was one of the first contemporary songs that touched me, I mean touched me to the core.  I wept every time I heard it, still often do.  In one place, Bryan Duncan sounds nearly breathless as he sings the words “so afraid.”  Before I was made whole, music didn’t touch me.  Oh, I had favorite songs along the way, and of course a few favorite artists.  I sang along with the radio and loved to go dancing, but it was only superficial and “what everyone else seemed to enjoy.”  There had been a couple of spiritual songs way back in my younger days, that now bring a remembrance, but those were reintroduced after following Messiah.  I’ve since read that music touches all of our emotions, simultaneously, but I was so emotionally fractured, that simply wasn’t possible.  When I was made whole, music took on new meaning in my life.  It touched me deeply.  I had no idea what I’d been  missing!    Back to “so afraid.”


The reason for coming to the internet was to share my testimony of mental healing.  That was my purpose for buying a computer and going online, but . . . that was back in the days of screen IDs and yahoo groups.  I would have never guessed, in a million years, that I’d have an illustration of the actual place I live, my real name and photo next to books, and actually host visitors in person that I’d met through social media.  I had no idea, the internet outreach would become so personal . . . so when Abba said, it’s time for details in your personal testimony, I was “so afraid.”  I have seen, even those in the mental health field, especially those in the mental health field; don’t believe anyone is ever actually healed.  I even told Abba, in fear and trembling, “but I finally have a reputation of integrity.”  His response was succinct, “That’s why the time is; now.”


I read the lyrics; I listened again to the song, and even watched Bryan’s video.  My testimony isn’t about me, it’s about what our Heavenly Father can do!  My testimony is about what happens to a person, when Messiah touches them.  Everything in my life has been bringing me to this place for such a time as this.  At this point in history, when the powers that be have a mental dis-health label ready for everyone, I know that I know, psychology is not the answer and pharmaceuticals are not the answer.  Y’hshuwah Messiah is the answer!








When I saw Messiah’s question in John 5:6, “Wilt thou be made whole?”  I knew, at some point, I’d author a book bearing that title.  There were many years between that “knowing” and the accomplishment.  When my mind was made whole, instantly, there were many shards and rough edges that still didn’t “fit.”  I knew they were there and they were no part of my future, but they were part of my past; and it would take maturity and surrender to The Great Spirit of our Holy Elohim to incorporate those parts as well.  I was forgiven, I’d forgiven others, and my past has no power over me, but it is part of my testimony.  It’s how I am able to bear witness as to what our Savior can do!


As I sit here writing this, I’m enjoying a cool southern breeze in the window, listening to the rain gently tapping on the sky light in the kitchen, and thinking of all the other things on my “to do” list today.  I’m so grateful to be able to do that.  Before being made whole, I had never experienced that.  Whatever I was doing, that was my entire awareness, with the exception of motherhood.  Regardless of my broken awareness, I always knew there were children that came first, and that’s how the idolatry began.  I, literally, centered on making childhood, safe, fun, and easy for my child, step-children of various marriages, and ultimately when I adopted.   Every facet of my being, every alter, every personality; knew there was a responsibility for children and was determined to protect them.  It’s not an easy thing to express, and far from a good way to live, but it’s where I was until the age of 36.  I like to think if I’d known about receiving the Holy Spirit as a young person, I would have centered on Messiah, rather than motherhood.

A few years ago, one of my Granddaughters asked me if I loved her more than I loved G-d.  I told her I loved my grandchildren more than anyone on earth.  Her next comment indicated that she felt I’d side-stepped her question, so we chatted as we did chores.  She asked me, point blank, if I loved G-d more than I loved her.  I confessed directly that although I loved her, her siblings, and her cousins more than anyone or anything on earth, I did love G-d more.  It was the most precious opportunity to explain about how much G-d loved us in giving, His Son, Y’hshuwah.  It was that same granddaughter several years later that overheard her mother screeching at me, who told me, she would never speak to anyone the way her mom spoke to me.  I, of course, told her how happy I was to hear that.  

Her statement struck that old chord of remembrance in my heart.  Suddenly, I received insight regarding the horrible relationship of 18 years.  My former “god” had made it very clear she was displeased with being dethroned.  That was one of those social teachings, I’d apparently misunderstood through her childhood.   When hearing, “children come first,” “first in a mother’s heart,” I’d taken it literally.   It suddenly made so much sense, although sad, as to why our relationship had deteriorated through her adult years.  She was no longer the center of my world.  I had placed my child above the Creator of the universe and in doing so, failed her greatly.  Abba forgave me when I repented from my idolatry.  Sadly, my daughter has yet to forgive me, for that repentance.