*warning: this post contains a very raw, intimate and disturbing encounter. It may trudge up some old wounds or may seem horrific… that’s because it was. I understand if you choose not to stick with me here but… There is good, real deep, comforting good, in sharing this traumatic experience.
Strip me down to the bareness of my beating heart and to the most intricate pathways of my soul. Here I am, once again – open, vulnerable, raw and transparent. I’ve nothing to hide. This is me, friends, this is me.
Just a few weeks ago, I shared that God spoke to me and told me it was my year to rise. His message came in like a wrecking ball (stop singing…) and it was reaffirmed many times over since that moment of enlightenment. I was “all in” and so excited to know that this was it…this was finally it. The day of a reckoning had come at last. I felt empowered and unstoppable.
But that was before someone snuck into the maintenance room and threw the switch that clearly stated – never ever ever throw this switch. Temptation rises. Defiance occurs. Someone’s life motto – to wreck people, and not a good kind of wrecking. Wrecking that lets people in a state of despair, in the ruins of the life they formerly knew…
Someone was soft clay in the face of temptation. My weaknesses were like candy to someone. They saw prime opportunity to jump in and promptly cause uproar in my newly risen identity.
That someone was Satan.
He marveled in my failures (self-labeled) and faults. He stood there dressed so comforting in wool. He tempted me with places that were familiar, not at all fun or safe, just familiar.
He stood over me, glaring, prideful of his marks upon my flesh.
Almost two weeks ago, I remember waking up in a full blown panic attack. My heart was threatening to explode out of my chest. My throat was dry and sore. My head was pounding and all energy was drained from me. I was soaked in fear. I began hyperventilating when I remembered what happened to me in a dark hour that was so brutal that it woke me. Believing it had really happened, I began shaking as I fearfully shifted my eyes around my bedroom. I frantically began tucking the blanket around my body, making sure every bit of skin was covered and protected. I wrapped myself in a cocoon. I began crying out for Jesus as I rocked myself back and forth. I felt rushes of heat run through my veins and my skin was on fire. I began rubbing my fingers across my body, as if I was nurturing the parts of me that were stained in horrific seeds of hate and condemnation.
I began screaming out with the most intense sound that I have ever heard.. in the darkest hour of the night. I was the only one that heard my primal screams because in reality nothing was coming out of my mouth. My voice had been stolen.
As I laid there sobbing, I began to scrub at my skin harder as flashes of what happened tormented me to the core. I desperately tried to rid my body of the evil that had penetrated me.
He raped me.
I need you now.
That is all that I could mutter. I needed Papa. I had just been violated. I needed to be held and I needed to know that I would survive this putrid assault.
Papa came to me and held me close. Shushing me.
My heart slowed it’s frantic pace. My eyes burned as the last tears fell from them. My stomach was no longer nauseous, threatening to empty itself.
It was only a nightmare.
Though dazed, I trusted Papa as I lay my head on His chest. He has never let me down. I may have thought He had, several times, but the truth is, He never has let me down. He has always saved me when evil shoved its way into my life. Every time evil threatened me – My Father intervened.
It was just a horrific, brutal nightmare. I fell asleep.
In the morning, my stomach felt a little nervous as my mind raced with what I had experienced in the night. Exhausted, I just laid in bed for awhile praising God for loving me through my darkest hour. Again. Still. Always.
I felt defeated by the cards life was dealing me. I was experiencing major illness – devastating migraines lasting days and a handful of other health issues. In the midst of my body being attacked by all these physical ailments, the strength of my marriage was being tested (we are good, by the way), financial strains started to become crippling and all of this just became a load heavier than I could carry. I wasn’t strong enough and I broke. I did what I do best and became reclusive and scared and completely numb…again.
This is how Satan works. He tried endlessly to wreck me in my awakened state but when he couldn’t destroy me completely, he attacked me in my sleep. He loathes the fact that I am so close to my God and is terrified because he sees Jesus in me. If we are not careful, he will persistently try to assault us. It’s his hunger. It’s his daily bread. It’s his feast.
But good news for me, and it can be for you too – God is my salvation.
I choose to sit at His table and I’m hungry for the feast that He has prepared before me. I am cleansed. I am royalty. I have destiny. I have been set free. I’m gonna shape history. I am gonna change the world!
Go listen –
“I can hear the footsteps of my king
I can hear his heartbeat beckoning
In my darkness he has set me free
Now I hear the Spirit calling me
“Wake up child, it’s your time to shine
You were born for such a time as this”
“All we need is Your love. You captivate me!”
While I was withdrawn from life, I missed a lot of family gatherings at church. It is not something I chose. The migraines kept me in bed for the majority of that time. But this past Friday, February 21, was another turning point in my spiritual journey.
I woke feeling as though I was having a heart attack. Truthfully. I felt many symptoms and I was Googling and searching and doing everything but calling 911. In the midst of my fear, I heard God’s voice. Seriously. He said to me, “You are going to be ok. But this is it. This is your wake-up call that you wanted. Listen child.” Make necessary lifestyle changes. Now.
So that Sunday, I was well enough to attend church for the first time in three weeks. It was incredible. I left wrecked once again (the very good kind of wrecked). He was very present and made sure messages were spoken to my heart. I heard them. I knew when the message was meant for me. Listening to songs, reading scripture, reading messages from others on various social media, I knew God was pouring His love inside me every chance He could to make me feel His love.
It is truly amazing when you go deep and peel the layers off. It takes time to do it. But I am reminded that His love is everlasting and unchanging. In spite of what labels I put on myself or the lies I try to believe, He will always stand before me, telling me to wake up and rise. I trust in Him.