The Healing Tested

This is the first of three of the most difficult entries I’ll ever post here . . . at least I hope it is.  Speaking of being broken as a child is one thing, but the test of the healing was painful on a level, I’d never before experienced, and hope to never have to repeat.  This test targeted every level of my being and felt invasive on the most basic of levels.  10665689_731894803532788_6988600202647556611_n

The day I was filled with the Ruach HaKodesh, I received my mental health healing.  A marital separation soon followed, which was my fault and ultimately resulted in divorce.  The test began when I remarried . . . The marriage was not immediate, it was actually several years after I was healed.  The healing came in 1994, with the separation in 1995.  I met my “intended” in 2001.  So, seven years after the healing, came the test.  All I can say is, “Oy vey!”  I thought I was praying and entering a relationship that would demonstrate Abba’s forgiveness and power of restoration after divorce, but I was wrong, oh so wrong!  This was a test of my mental healing in a situation that was not a fairy tale romance of  “happily ever after.”  This situation was, in fact, far from happily ever after . . . And yet, my miraculous healing was proven.  

Please allow me to share the test results, with a little background first. The man to which I was married when I entered covenant was not so much interested in the covenant lifestyle and we separated.  Nearly five years later, YHWH instructed me to send him a letter of release.  I did not send a divorce document or even a letter asking for a divorce, just a letter thanking him for being a wonderful father to our children and acknowledging the change that had come about in our direction, after my “conversion.”  I acknowledged my responsibility and simply wanted him to be happy, whatever that meant to him.  In less than a week from the time I mailed that letter to him, he called and told me he wanted a divorce and gave me the details for what he thought was fair.  He was more than fair, so in less than two months, I was a divorce’ . . . again.  Moving along now, to the test.

I was still thinking the only difference between Torah Observant Believers and Christians was a lack of information.  I was still young in the faith, seven years,and think I viewed my beliefs like another denomination, but I was so wrong!  I knew some denominations were not receptive, but some seemed to be, unfortunately in a curious novelty sort of way.  I was zealous and still sometimes stumbling between discernment and being judgmental.  When I saw spirits, I recognized them, but “works of the flesh” sometimes confused me, especially when it came to relationships.  I can honestly say, I’ve learned a lot . . . especially about the journey after the second mile.   I had truly hoped what I am about to share, would some day be just a bad memory and rocky start, but instead, the Sabbaths are more separate, except when someone is looking, and sadly, just the other day, as a shared a praise report, he interjected his explanation to remove the glory of Abba.

Within hours of my last marriage, seriously within hours of the ceremony, I found myself literally wanting to jump out of my car.  I was in the passenger’s seat, so it wasn’t about inflicting injury, just the overwhelming feeling of needing to escape!  The honeymoon was spiritually and emotionally, “excruciating.”  I was far from understanding this test.  I was hoping things would settle down into some sort of calm, but that would not be the case.  Friday evening, as I had prepared for Shabbat,     he acted confused that I had not cancelled the gathering since we had just gotten married.  I reminded him that he had gone to work that day . . .  Through the course of the next six months, I continued to try to be patient, thinking his involvement in my ministry was simply misguided zeal or something, but it finally reached a chrescendo near the High Holy Days.  His utter disregard of the importance of Sabbath and the ministry to which I’m called, to the point of making comments like, “since you’re not doing anything . . .”  By the time he’d repeatedly interrupted the Sabbath gatherings, I simply told him, if he wasn’t interested to please stop attending.

In this same time frame the anniversary of 9/11 was observed.  I served voluntarily as both fire and police chaplain and was asked to participate in that observance.  Now, this same man who had not been able to ever participate in a respectable manner at the mission or privately was suddenly ready to attend and be on time.  I’ll never forget the familiar feeling that came over me that morning through that observance.  The television cameras were there, the radio DJs were present and there were about 3 rows of chairs facing a podium in front of the fire house.  My seat was between the Fire Chief and the Mayor.  This man, who had not participated with me in any spiritual joint endeavor suddenly made his way to be seated between myself and the mayor.  I looked around, feeling like a deer in the headlights.  I knew most all of the people involved in this observance and many of them were married, yet their spouses were supportively in the background.  All I could think about was thoughts of escape.  This may not seem like a major situation to most, but “center-stage” confusion and embarrassment were my old triggers to disconnect.  What had started as fear and confusion for a small child had become my way of life as an adult.  I’d lived mentally broken for so many years, separation was not my second nature, but first response.  I did not want to have my picture taken,  I did not want to be on television, and just as when I was three years old, I desperately wanted to be invisible.  I could not understand how someone could use the spiritual convictions of another to garner attention.

Instead of disconnecting that day, I “womaned up,” graciously accepted the seating rearrangement and spoke with both officials, read my poem based upon II Chronicles 7:14, and resumed my seat, sad and embarrassed, but well aware of the entire day.  My mind had not separated, and this marriage was not joined.

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No Refuge

I honestly don’t know when my mind shattered or if I was simply born in pieces, but I do know my one safe place was gone before I was four.   Grandpa endured a lot of nonsense and rules from his micro-managing daughter to be in my life, and when he died, there was no one to provide me refuge, so unknowingly, escaping became my safety.  I didn’t plan it, and I don’t know how much went on before he died, I just know high tension became my normal.  I was a very insecure child, but I couldn’t express it or let it show.  How does a kid hide their insecurity or share their feelings of insecurity with the people who make them feel insecure?  To further complicate the issue I lived with those people.

Thankfully, I had a number of “experts” sharing my existence.  As an adult, before being healed, I tried to gain “normalcy” through therapy.  In discovery, I referred to the other personalities as the “experts.”  As a child, those experts were master performers to meet the never ending demands of my fearful and micro-managed childhood.  My younger sister bit and hit, but I was not allowed to defend myself, since I was bigger.  As for bigger, my mom used a number of disparaging names and adjectives toward me.  Daddy was a young, hard working, anger driven man, so although he was one of those “hands on” dads, he was gone a lot, working to make money.   When he was home, he seemed to want to enjoy himself, but he was often pressured into  the in the position of enforcer . . . Home was definitely not a place of refuge for me.    Although I didn’t consciously choose the dissociative identities, I did learn very quickly that I was expected to take everyone’s word for what happened and I simply couldn’t prove otherwise.  There’s no place like home” has a completely different meaning for someone like me . . . and as a child, I was very thankful to find those places that were not like home.

I recently watched part of  a video that brought back a memory.  When I was very young, before my sister was born, I had a German Shepherd.  I loved that dog and she loved me.  She loved me so much, my parents had to be very careful about how they treated me around her, so one day Kristi was gone.  I was told she scared someone in the neighborhood and they gave her away to be guard dog at a warehouse.  I wanted to believe that, but I didn’t.  Before the age of four, I realized these people did not make me feel safe, and I really didn’t trust them either.  I could not wait to grow up!  I grew up in Kansas and I remember the very first time I watched the Wizard of Oz.  Even as a young girl, I could not understand why Dorothy wanted to get back to Kansas.

By the time I reached school age, I was definitely aware of my awkwardness, and also very aware that what happened at home was not to be shared.  When I got to school, I found myself particularly fond of the older strict teachers.  They were consistent and that was something new and refreshing for me.  I didn’t fit in well with the other children.  I was called names and even hit, but I didn’t realize I was bullied until much later.  I remember going home and telling my mom what happened the day a girl hit me in the face, at school.  She did nothing, except ask me if I hit her back.  I said, “No,” and she said, “Good.”  The name calling hurt my feelings more than being physically hit, I think.  In spite of the treatment, school became my safe place.

First grade was wonderful.  My teacher was so straightforward.  That was back in the day that teachers still had paddles, but she never used it on me.  I wasn’t a bad child at school, I couldn’t figure out how I could be such a disappointment to my mom, so much so, she’d have to have Daddy deal with me.  I just didn’t know what I was doing wrong . . . I was never in trouble for doing horrible things.  I didn’t want to get in trouble.  I was always in trouble for making my mom yell and disappointing Daddy, but unlike the teachers, they wouldn’t tell me what it would take to make them happy.   I certainly wanted to please my parents, because their expression of displeasure was very hurtful.  Being a child was just so painful and confusing.

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G-d’s Permissive Will

In one of the earliest entries here at “loosed woman,” I made mention of being told after making a life changing decision as a teen, I could live out my days in “G-d’s Permissive Will,” and I promised I would address the topic.   My life changing “decision” was fornication, that ultimately resulted in motherhood.  I used to believe it was an heretical teaching from the pit of hell, and for many it has served to be exactly that, but what man spoke for evil in my life, YHWH has used for good . . .  In a nutshell, G-d’s Permissive Will is the Protestant version of Purgatory while you’re still alive.  It’s the belief that a wrong decision after having said “the sinner’s prayer” removes G-d’s call and purpose for your life.  That can clearly be the case, if one doesn’t repent, but to present it to young people as some sort of life sentence has actually driven many away from G-d, or to a worldly solution, and is absolutely anti-Scriptural.   As it turns out, neither “permissive will” or “the sinner’s prayer” are actually Scriptural.  That’s not to say, bad choices do not come with consequences, because they do.  “Reaping what we sow” is absolutely a Scriptural truth!

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Peter denied even knowing Messiah that Passover night of His trial and yet preached a mighty sermon a little over seven weeks later on Shavu’ot.  He continued in ministry for the rest of his life, even writing two letters that were canonized.   Clearly he didn’t wait to die in “G-d’s permissive will.”

David pulled a couple of major “big sins” like adultery and murder, yet was referred to in the New Testament as a man after G-d’s own heart.  Even in wanting to build the Temple for YHWH, it was not his sins of adultery and murder that prohibited him from being the builder, but the fact that he was a warrior, rather than a king of peace.

Back a little further, we’ve got to wonder if Jacob’s deception of Isaac for the blessing didn’t cost him 20 years and basically the same dishonest stunt pulled on him with the wrong sister for the wedding . . . Yet his name was still changed to Israel.  Of course there are consequences for sin, but YHWH forgives those who repent and His plan still stands.

Abraham is one of the first examples of just how anti-Scriptural this “G-d’s permissive will” teaching actually is and how horribly detrimental it can be.  Abraham clearly made several wrong choices when it came to matters of intimacy.  Now, you may argue that this was before written Torah and that would be correct, but by the same token, the man heard G-d’s voice and he knew enough about the “rules” or laws of matrimony to misrepresent his relationship with Sarah, not once but twice in his travels.  He also referred to Hagar as Sarah’s property, rather than a second wife, so . . . Abraham could hear the voice of El Shaddai, and he clearly understood right from wrong.  Even the heathen king asked why he’d lied about Sarah’s identity and Abraham knew enough to walk through the loophole.  Now back to Abraham not having to settle for “G-d’s permissive will” and the conviction I felt when the revelation hit me.

What if after Abraham’s fiasco with Hagar and the birth of Ishmael, Abraham just settled back into G-d’s perfect will waiting to die?  If the child with Hagar prevented Abraham from completing the plan or purpose, then all of history would be different.   Ishmael, the father of Islam was already here, but Isaac would never have been born . . .  When that revelation hit me, I gained an entirely new perspective.

This protestant teaching of “G-d’s permissive will” is heretical, no doubt, but by the same token; it kept me from ever returning to the denominations that hold to that teaching, which spared me from missing the plan and purpose of our Creator.  Sadly, I let it keep me out of the purpose and plan for a time, and I even made more mistakes and bad decisions, but at the moment I knelt before the Creator of the universe and asked forgiveness, He granted that forgiveness and restored me to His plan.  In all fairness to those believing the falsehood of waiting to die.  I continue to experience the heartbreaking consequences of my sin, but I’m not about to miss my part in G-d’s plan for me, now.  The world continues to experience the heartbreak of Abraham’s decision and child conceived with Hagar, but the world also has received the Messiah through lineage of the child of promise.

I’m so thankful I got back to the plan before I was 99!

   For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says YHWH, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.
For the gifts and calling of G-d don’t change. 

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