Category Archives: Satan

For I am free…

Satan is a liar.  He  is the king of lies.  He twists words and ideas into something that I can easily believe that traps me and holds me captive.  Captive.  Like a person chained to a wall.  Lies like “Nobody’s listening, so why bother telling your story.”  Why bother telling  my story?  Lots of people know my story, so why keep hashing up the past?  That’s a good question.  A really good question.  Maybe I am just talking to myself to keep myself going and to keep pushing higher up the mountain.  Maybe it’s because I hope that someone, somewhere will hear my story, and that person will feel hope and will keep moving up higher themselves.

Funny thing about believing in Satan’s lies, they are an illusion, an illusion that keeps me trapped as long as I believe in them.  As we all know, an illusion is something that is not really there, our eyes (or hearts, or minds) are playing tricks on us because we buy into the illusion.  Oh yes, he can hold a mirror up to us and show us the ugliness that exists in our hearts and  minds.  He can push us into believing half-truths because he is a master of illusion.  We can believe that there is no way out of this darkness we have gotten ourselves into.

The truth be told, I hold the key to breaking the chains of the illusions.  That’s right, I have the key.  The key is Jesus.  He is the light that shines in dark places when we think we see something that isn’t there.  Satan would hold us mesmerized in the darkness that is full of illusions that cause fear in our hearts and in our  minds.  He would have us chained to the wall of half-truths.  He would have us be captives for the remainder of our days.  But Jesus, he ripped the veil that kept humanity separated from God when he died on that cross.  He broke through the barrier and defeated death.  He defeated Satan.  That’s right, Satan, the master of illusion and lies, is defeated.

When we grab hold of the light and undo the chains with our wonderful Jesus, we are free.  We are free to go around and share the light with others.  We are free to ignite the flames of passion for the true living God in our own hearts.  We are free to help Jesus beat back the darkness that surrounds people’s hearts.  We are free to become whom we were born to be.

I was born to tell my story so that other’s may see the glory of God in my life.  For I am free.

5mf- Look Beyond What You Know

5 minutes of unedited writing…No worries, no backtracking, no fussing. Just write…

Beyond

For some reason I am drawing a blank here. Beyond fits in my life somehow. I look beyond the stars of my own sky, I look beyond my own sin, I look beyond my own feelings, to find Him. Jesus wanted us to look beyond the law and find Him. Paul wanted us to look beyond our own mistakes and find Him. God wants us to look beyond our own realities and find Him. By looking beyond what we can see, we find hope. We find peace, we find purpose. When we choose too look beyond, we choose to rise above that which Satan would have us believe about ourselves and our reality- that we are stuck, useless, and purposeless. God says that we are unstuck, useful, and purposeful. After all, He created us in His image. After all, we were created with a purpose on this earth. We have a job to do. Look beyond what you know and find the meaning of your life.

I guess I wasn’t so blank after all.

Telling my story…

My stomach is in knots right now.  I have never publicly stated my story before today.  But, I promised that I would write about what did, or did not happen, this past Saturday.

I was supposed to meet with a gifted counselor to work on an important issue, only, it didn’t happen.  Right now I am trying to deal with the reality of this issue moment by moment until I find release.  Meanwhile, it is only by the grace of God that I am functioning normally right now.

I have suffered with dissociative identity disorder (I offered a link to Wikipedia here, but feel free to read about it wherever you like) for many years.  Not in the Faces of Eve kind of way, I do not move in and out of full-blown personalities regularly.  I am not Jane, or Jim, or any other person.  I am always me.  For me, this means when something traumatic happened, I would squirrel away a part of my personality somewhere safe in my subconscious.  This has meant that sometimes, if a particular personality was present, I would only be able to see things from that perspective.  I was still me, but my thoughts were one-dimensional.

In 2000, through some intense therapy, the Lord integrated 5 personalities.  This was both good and strange.  I no longer had 5 voices in my head, I had one voice, my integrated voice.  It took a couple of years to get used to feeling multiple feelings at once.  11 years later, I can say I  have successfully handled all the feelings a person can have in any given situation at once.  I thought that this was the end of that episode of my life.

Recently, I have become aware of a personality.  It hangs out on the edge of my consciousness.  It is waiting to be brought back into the fold, if you will.  Because the Lord has done this in the past, I know He can do it again.  And, I feel certain he will.  Just not yet.   Excuse me while I remember to breath.

This personality is my sexuality.  I experienced sexual abuse starting at around age 3.  I know for certain that this stopped when I was 11 because my mother and stepfather moved us out to the East Coast.  I had multiple abusers, but my father was most consistent offender.  My childhood is fraught with confusion and pain.  In the moments of this chaos, I hid away my sexuality somewhere else.  And, this part of myself has stayed hidden all this time.  God in His wisdom has decided that now is the time for this last piece of myself to be reintegrated into me.  Because of this, my sexuality has been handicapped.  It’s not quite all there.  I cannot fully express myself.  Some of what I have experienced as an adult has been broken, twisted, and tainted.  I have fought to overcome Satan’s version of my sexual identity.  Thoughts and feelings that I did not understand would crop up.  I always knew that things were not quite right, but I did not understand until recently the full extent of my need.  I need to be healed and put back together.  And, only God can do this.

This is the last piece of the puzzle.  I look forward to the day when I can welcome this last part of myself back to where it belongs.  And, I hope that day comes soon.

 

Milk

I had no ideas about what to write so I asked the Lord for something to write about.  Four words came to mind: milk, honey, plenty, and promise.  These words obviously go together (Promised Land anyone?), but I believe I am supposed to write from heart about them individually.

The word milk automatically makes me think of the Promised Land.  Moses was sent to bring his people to the land “flowing with milk and honey”.  Evidently God sees this as a good thing.  The one thing that speaks to me about the Promised Land was that everything that the Israelites was available to them in this land, if they just did what God told them to do.  The Israelites had a hard time doing this because it took them 40 years to get there.  But they did get there.

I often see myself as one of the wandering Israelites waiting to get to what God has promised me.  In my mind I can just see over the cliff, just enough to know that the promise is there.  I wonder when I will ever get there.  I ask God, “Haven’t I done enough now?”.  I am so ready for the promises.  I am so ready to be there in the Promised Land.  When can I go Lord?

It occurs to me that perhaps I am already there.  I am like a blind beggar sitting in the lush landscape begging for a scrap.  Satan has feed me enough lies that I believe in my blindness as my reality.  I can just smell the flowing milk and honey, but I have yet to taste it.  Perhaps if I stopped believing I was blind and poor, I might be able to partake in the feast before me.

When I accepted Jesus into my heart, I had access to the abundance of God.  Yet, my heart believed that I was not good enough, or clean enough, or whatever enough to take what is rightfully mine.  I could not tap into the infinite and good resources available to me because I believed the darkness more than I believed the light.

Today, I ask you Lord to take the scales from my eyes so that I can see and partake in all that you have given to me.  Amen.

Jesus-colored glasses

Well Just Write! is over.  But, I had the urge to sit down and write something.  So like Mary Kathryn says looks like our experiment worked for me!”  Hear, hear!

In life, so much of how we behave is based on perception.  In psychology (of which I am an undergrad student), learning and behavior typically go hand-in-hand.  Psychologists have been trying to figure just how learning works.  It is basically understood that our brain is a plastic mechanism that takes in information, processes it according our experiences and our genetic make-up and spits back out a reaction, or behavior.  When we are conceived, God chooses our eye color, hair color, personality traits and characteristics, and etc.  We are born with a basic construct.  For those of us who believe that we inherit spiritual factors at conception, we are born with both the good and the bad from our family lines.

As soon as we are born, we start learning.  We learn the smell of our parents, which voice belongs to which face, how to get what we need (i.e. crying for just about everything), and etc.  From birth on, our basic personality structure and learning experiences color how we react to our environment.  For example, my own basic personality has stubbornness/persistence woven into it’s structure because I inherited the physical genes that make me this way from my mother and my father.  I used to be just plain stubborn, now I am persistent.  I used to be stiff-necked and unyielding, now I (mostly) use this trait to help me keep pushing forward into a better place in life.

How I perceive this trait in myself depends on my perception of myself.  How other’s view this trait depends on how other’s perceive me based on their own experiences.  We sometimes call this a filter.  We receive information about our environment, our brain filters the information according to our understanding of things and says “Okay, this input is like this experience, and this is what you usually do”.  We are more likely to react a certain way in any given situation because of our experiences.  Sometimes we are aware of this, and sometimes we are not aware of this.  If I perceive myself as stubborn, I will more than likely behave in a stubborn fashion.  If perceive myself as persistent, I will more than likely behave in a persistent fashion.

How we react all depends on how we see the situation.  This is where Jesus comes in to the picture.  As a Christian, I have a choice; I can either choose to see life and myself wrongly, or I can choose to see life and myself through rightly or according to the truth.  As a Christian I understand that Satan wishes to convince me to chain myself to lies so that I am useless to God and behave wrongly.  Satan wants me to see life through Satan-colored glasses.  Satan will strive to convince us that we need to keep believing his perception.  Believing in lies never gets us very far with God.  Instead, I need to learn the truth because Jesus wants me to view life from his perception (i.e. THE TRUTH), or through Jesus-colored glasses.  It’s our choice everyday in every moment whether we believe the lies or we believe the truth.

If we take off the lies from our eyes and look at things from God’s perspective we understand what is happening from a different point of view (i.e. THE TRUTH).  Life, ourselves, and others begin to look different to us.  We begin to see that person that used to irritate us the way Jesus sees that person.  We begin to understand that persons difficulties.  With God’s help we begin to feel compassion for that person and react to them with grace.  If we allow the truth to permeate our being, we react differently to our circumstances.  We start to behave in way that brings life and light to our life and other’s life.  God’s truth starts to shine through for others to see.  When we allow ourselves to life from a God perspective the kingdom of darkness loses another soul and THE KINGDOM OF LIGHT WINS.  Satan no longer has control.

Isn’t that worth putting on Jesus-colored glasses?

Self-Control (Day 2 of the Just Write! campaign)

Welcome to day 2 of the Just Write! campaign here at Beauty in it’s time.  Mary Kathryn Tyson is hosting this campaign in an effort to get her creative juices flowing, and other people’s as well.  I have chosen to participate because I need a kick in the rear to get myself writing more frequently.  So,everyday that she does this she will give us a one-word prompt and we “JustWrite!” for five minutes without editing (note: editing for grammar errors is okay, just don’t do a total rewrite). We are not trying to craft masterpieces here, we are attempting to “Just Write!” and get the creative juices flowing. MK has offered to allow us to write in her comments section, or to put a link in her comments if we have our own blog to write in.

Self-Control

Go!

Self-control is the most difficult aspect of Christianity to master.  Self-control is a gift of the spirit, but it’s up to us to control ourselves.  Our hearts are full of evil desires that we must fight constantly to hold back.  This can tire one out.  Fortunately for us, God gives us the tools we need to fight back.  The trick is remembering the sword we have in our possession.  All we have to do is pick it up and wield it in Jesus’ name.  He gives the power needed to defeat the enemy, we just have to be willing to pick up that sword.  We have to say “yes” to fighting back.  We have to say “You will go no further” to the enemy.  One of Satan’s great tricks is to help us to forget that God can help us control ourselves.  Practiced self-control gives the power to keep walking the walk and running the race.  Otherwise, we get caught in the sticker bushes that crowd our path.  We become stuck like a rabbit that was running from the hungry wolf and was not watching where it was going.  Lord I pray that you help me to stay on the path.

I would love to hear your thoughts on this!

Chrysalis

Formed from my own skin, wrapped in my own desire.

What was me, is not me, anymore.

Me is different.

Wrapped tightly in my own desire.

I put myself in this darkness,

Wrapped myself in this pain.

I long to be free.

Pushing, shoving, hoping.

Looking for the light,

That must be there.

Chrysalis, set me free.

A scent, a sight, a sound.

Can it be?

The urge of freedom,

Stronger than my desire.

Pushing, shoving, straining to be free.

At last.

I can fly.

The Garden of You

This post
is dedicated to a precious person, Jessica who has a beautiful blog.
Reading her blog is a delight, like visiting a garden.

Dear Precious Friend, I came by your garden today for a visit. I
saw you in the distance with the wind playfully attempting to
displace the little straw hat (You know, the yellow one. With the
polka dots) sitting prettily upon your head. You seemed engrossed
in your work as you hummed gently to yourself. Knowing you, you
were probably composing a song. Then you saw me. You turned and
laughed, then waved at me to come on over for a spell. On my way
over, I noticed a little pond you had put in. There were flashes of
red, gold and white making ripples in the water as if to welcome me
here, to your garden. In another little nook I noticed that some
fairies had been busy building a little home for themselves,
knowing in their hearts that you wouldn’t mind. You looked warm and
a little tired from your work, but happy. There may have been a
little stick or two in your hair, it was hard to tell amongst that
deep brown hair. Little clods of dirt had stuck themselves to your
legs. Honestly, the dried mud didn’t look very comfortable, causing
your skin to wrinkle and pucker. However, you barely seemed to
noticed the dirt clods because you knew they would meet with their
ultimate demise; to be washed away. You squatted down by some
recently disturbed earth. I noticed a multitude of hardworking
earthworms busily making their way back into the soft, moist earth.
Those little guys are a definite sign of good soil. They are always
working to soften the hard ground, just below the surface where you
can’t see them. You asked me to come closer and take a look at what
you had been doing. You explained to me that this little plot of
land had almost been swept away by a flood recently. But, you had
managed to keep it safe. You said your gardening teacher had been
by and helped you protect this area from the swift, unforgiving
waters. You told me he had said that this was a special little
place, destined for greatness and beauty. “And see,” you said,
“I’ve already planted the seeds.” Having come to visit your garden
a few times recently, I feel I understand that making this place
special has not been easy. Blights seem to pop up out of nowhere
ravaging your precious plants. Or, crazy weather comes screaming
into this place bringing darkness and flooding that attempts to
desecrate and destroy the life here. By no small miracle, every
little petal, blade of grass, and leaf survives, and, in spite of
the storms, thrives. Whenever I come to visit, you take me on a
tour of delights. The sweet, soft scent of those perky red roses
reach up and tickle my nose, daring me to smile. The gentle sway of
the weeping willow by the water allows me, for a moment, to safely
feel some sadness, which is a balm to my soul. Sometimes the little
rabbits come out to peek at us and twitch their noses as if they
know something we do not. We stopped at your new pond. You showed
me the little fish that you put there. “My friends” you said, with a slight tilt to your head.
They come to visit when you arrive, even when you have nothing to
give. Sometimes you sing them a song, sad or otherwise. Sometimes
you tell them a story. They absorb every morsel you give them then
radiate back love to you for your gentle gifts. Eventually, we
arrive at the heart of your garden, that most sacred place. Here is
where you sit, hours upon hours, with your gardening teacher.
Listening, learning, asking tons of questions. Sometimes, I come in
to visit, sometimes I don’t. And, that’s ok. Because that is your
special place. On the way out, we always pass the little patch of
earth that you intentionally leave untended. It serves as a
reminder of what this garden used to look like. You have
worked so hard ,my friend, to put your land back together. And it is
amazing. Even more amazing than before the hurricane that nearly
wiped this place of rest and beauty from existence. Thank you,
Precious Friend, for allowing me to visit your garden from time to
time. Stephanie

Thoughts and Feelings

The children used to run rampant through out the grand, old
mansion that they call home. Wild and free they would pursue
whatever looked good to them at the moment. Furniture was
repeatedly knocked over, glass broken, drapes climbed, flower beds
ruined. The Caregiver was beside herself trying to reign the
chaos in. There were so many of them. Often she would
find them with lying on the floor with manic looks of glee on their
face, totally spent from what they considered grand and glorious
adventures. Or, they would refuse to go to bed and find new
ways to bring terror to the Caregivers heart. She knew
something needed to be done, but had not a clue as to what to do
with these unruly children. Sometimes she wished that they
would just grow up and go away forever. But, not really.
She loved them all dearly. After one particularly exhausting
day, the Caregiver decided to call a Friend. She was
desperate, she told him, and really needed his help. In the
blink of an eye, the Friend was at the door of the mansion.
He took the poor, bedraggled Caregiver into her room and
asked her what was the matter. The Caregiver poured out
her heart to her Friend. Tears flowed freely as she went over
how the children behaved and how she was worn out trying to keep
track of them day after day. She was concerned that they
would hurt themselves, or ruin the mansion making it uninhabitable,
and then what would she do? With an expression that radiated
Love, the Friend gently explained that she needed help from the
only person that could make these children behave, their Father.
The Friend said he would give the Father a call. No sooner
had the Friend called the Father than he appeared in the foyer.
He took one look at the place and called out one word,
“Children!”. The constant noise of chaos and destruction
suddenly ceased and all was eerily quiet. Then with a rush
all of the children from every corner of the property came rushing
in to the foyer. Oh, what a mess they were. Some were
covered from head-to-toe in dirt with sticks and leaves in their
hair. Some had been in the kitchen and were covered in flour
and other foodstuffs. A few looked quiet and sullen, or
afraid, these children had barely budged from their rooms.
The Father took one look at his children and very quietly
said, “Come with me.” One-by-one he took them into their
rooms, talked with them, salved their wounds, gave them a bath, and
fed them. Then he put them all to bed. It had been a
long time since all of the children had slept soundly through the
night, but the Father’s presence calmed and soothed them into a
peaceful slumber. The Father then came to the Caregiver. He
could see in her eyes the years of weariness and desperation.
So, he drew her a nice hot bath, brought her a nice supper,
and gently helped her into bed. The Friend kept watch all
night long as everyone slept. The next morning, everyone gathered
together in the kitchen. As breakfast was made the Father,
with a stern, but gentle expression, explained that things would be
different from now on. The children had been neglecting their
duties for too long, and their behavior was unacceptable.
Starting today, the house would be cleaned and put back in
order. No more running rampant. No more destruction.
No more gleeful chaos. This day, their Father
explained, was the beginning of a new way of life.
After a hearty breakfast, the children set off to do their
work. The Caregiver was surprised to find that some of the
wilder children actually looked relieved. Apparently, all
that they needed was their Father. At the end of the day, the
children looked exhausted, but happy. They had their supper
and went straight to bed to prepare for another day’s work the next
day. The children began to fall into a peaceful pattern of
work, and when the work of restoring of the mansion had slowed
down, play. Nowadays, the children gather in the parlor after
supper. Some sit and snooze by the fire, some read a good
book, other’s chat about the day’s events and how they felt about
them. The Father had taught the Caregiver how to manage so
many children at once. They all had their special needs and
their special jobs. Now the Caregiver, is able to fully use
her gifts to coordinate the efforts of the children to maintain
their home. She even joins in their play every once in a
while.

Do your
feelings run rampant like unruly
children?