More History, this is a continuation of the entries from March 15, 19, 29, 31, April 2, and 7th. In fact, it actually brings us to the present.
Well, after the time in California, the man who used to call himself a witch doctor suggested I move to New York City to study Macumba with a teacher who was highly respected. So I moved, and started my studies.
This teacher was very thorough, giving us pages and pages of notes, lots of magical sorts of things to do, exercises to learn. He also taught us the Hawaiian Huna religion, and then had us write out the whole book of John based on the Hawaiian Huna religion principles. It fit, but was not an accurate translation.
People started breaking away from the teacher, as always when there is a cult involved and personalities involved there is division. For awhile I worked with a mystical group who studied tarot cards and magical principles, then spent time studying the Santeria religion. I was fortunate in that the two times I tried to gain the complete initiation ceremonies, the priests died before I was given my full complement of what they called the warriors. I am grateful, in retrospect, for that.
I also worked with a few covens based in New York City and in Philadelphia.
During this time in New York, the pain of the past re-emerged big time, and I was so suicidal that I finally decided I had to go back to seeing a therapist. I am so sorry for the first therapist I saw, because my neediness must have run him through the wringer. He did encourage me to start writing my autobiography, which I did and shared with him. I did very well with it, receiving two personal letters from editors and one from an author who had written a similar book, but unfortunately the market for incest survival books was glutted, so I did not sell the story. It is currently sitting in Pastor Don’s office, and he has suggested that I re-write the story, for there is a lot of darkness and not much hope in the first version. So this is sort of an outline for that story that might be written.
I eventually found a therapist who I could not send through the wringer, and it was through him that I began to see more of my past, realized just how far reaching my abuse went. I realized, through him, that my mom was not a victim like me, but that she perpetuated my abuse and did not do what she could have done to protect me. That was crushing for it brought on just how alone I was with all the pain and hurt. I also began to see how they manipulated me, and he made me realize that I was a victim, that I was not the responsible one for what happened. That they hurt me of their own volition, not because I wasn’t good enough, perfect enough, smart enough or the perfect daughter.
Somewhere in the midst of the few relationships I had during this time I got pregnant, and was afraid that I would end up not being a good mom, so to my shame, I got an abortion. I wish I had never done that, and if I could change one thing about my past, this is the one area I would change. But God even turned that to good, but I will explain that later.
It was then that I met Jim (my current husband). We started dating and I did everything possible to destroy the relationship before it began. That we are together today is really God-ordained. He listened to me, let me vent my past, encouraged me to return to college and gain a degree. We spent about 7 years dating and ultimately moved in together (again I wish we had married first, but we didn’t). I ended up pregnant, and he proposed marriage. We married and I had a miscarriage. Oh the guilt connected with that. I blamed my abortion, figured I was awful, and was afraid that Jim would leave me because now I wasn’t pregnant. Well we are together today 19 years later, so I guess our relationship is more stable. Since then we have had three wonderful children (now my daughter is 13, and my two sons are 16 and one who will be 15 in May).
After the birth of my first son, Jim decided we needed to return to church as he wanted to raise his kids Catholic. Well, you know how I felt about God, I hated God at that time. So I sat in church fuming that I had to sit through mass week after week, year after year. For all the good it did for me, I was a bump on a log.
As the kids got older it fell upon my shoulders to teach them to pray, to read the Bible, and all the things required for their first communion and later confirmation. Well I did pretty good, and my kids feel that God is their friend, they pray freely. In fact I was thrilled when my oldest said, “Mom, do I have to pray memorized prayers? Often I pray to God when I am in the shower or outside.” I told him that God wanted to hear from him whenever he wanted to talk with God, that God was not thrilled with formal prayers said by rote, but wanted prayers from the heart. My kids know something that I am still struggling to learn. They know that they are beloved of God, that God cares for them and that they can freely go to God when they need to. I am so grateful that my feelings toward God did not show to them, and now I am grateful that they see my feelings toward God, and how much I love God.
So about five years ago the thought came to me to give God one last chance, so I read the Bible from cover to cover. I came away with the idea that God hardened hearts, and my heart was definitely one hardened by God. That there was no hope. Yet, I started reading the Bible through again from cover to cover and started seeing a bit of God’s love. I longed for that kind of relationship with God. I had pretty much put aside the occult when the kids were born, figuring it wasn’t the optimum religion to expose them to, given the religion of the dominate culture which was Christian. (Of course, now I am glad for a different reason).
I went to a Bible study at the Catholic church I was attending but was very disappointed, whereupon someone invited me to their Friday Bible study (You guessed, it was Pastor Don’s Bible study).
I spent about a year attending that, and occasionally, if allowed, going to their services (I usually attend Mass on Sunday because my husband is still Catholic, but love spending time at the Living Word Chapel when possible). But whenever I sat in the church in the beginning I sat in the back, arms crossed over my chest and fuming. People did not come up to speak to me, I guess I did not give off welcoming vibes or something, but I would fume at God. Simple statements like “God loves you” would get my hackles up. I would fume, “Some sort of love, you abandoned me as a child, let me get hurt, let awful things happen to me, never answered my prayers, etc.” I was extremely angry at God, yelling inside my head at Him.
During this time, I went to see a missionary named Steve Solomon, who has the late-night radio show, Praise in the Night. I had been listening to this, and went to see him. Now, if you want to blend in with the crowd, not be noticed, go to an evening service. The daytime service is not as well attended, and when Steve called people forward for prayer, two of us did not go forward, the only two in the crowd. My heart sank when Steve came to the first person and prayed over them, and to my dismay, he also came to me and prophesized over me. He told me God was going to remove the tares from my mind. (Now you know why I love that parable so much, because God is doing this, and I wish I could tell you it was painless, it isn’t. But the tares are being removed one by one.) I went back the next afternoon, but left early. I was still fuming at God.
Someone at the Friday Bible study suggested that I make an appointment to see Pastor Don. See, I had not yet said the sinner’s prayer, never went forward to the altar. I had this vision in my head that God would condemn me in public for all the horrid sins I had done and expose me leaving me vulnerable, or else God would not respond at all, leaving me abandoned like he did when I was 8. I had zero trust in what people termed a loving God.
Well, I did make an appointment to see Pastor Don, and for two years we talked, almost weekly over things. All the while he kept encouraging me to pray the sinner’s prayer, but I couldn’t. I had to know for sure lots of things. So we discussed Bible dilemnas, the hardend-heart of Pharoah, why would God love me, and I went through a period of what I term the sin of the week. I would bring in a sin, and tell him God couldn’t forgive that, and we would look in the Word to where such a sin was forgiven.
It was during this time that the Friday Bible study was going over Romans chapter by chapter, verse by verse. It is not a good book to read when you are angry at God. I remember once Pastor Don stopped Bible study because I was muttering under my breath, and he prayed.
We discussed so many things, including my past history. I still struggle over where was God in the midst of my past, but we went over my history. I have never forgotten that Pastor Don told me that I spend most of my life in relationships waiting for the other shoe to drop, and that he would never drop the other shoe (He hasn’t). In fact, Pastor Don has been sort of like a model father for me, in that I can really see the love of God in how he relates to me, and how he relates to others in the church.
One day I was finally broken enough to realize that I needed a savior. I realized that I had broken every one of the 10 commandments. It dawned on me that having that abortion (remember the one I said that God turned around for the good), and that abortion was murder. Up until then I could rationalize a lot of the sins I committed, but that one broke me and we said the sinner’s prayer. And shortly thereafter I got baptized.
I struggled about many issues still. I asked God’s forgiveness for my rage, and got the clear impression that God was not upset with my rage because at that time I hadn’t talked with God for 40 years, so at least raging at God was talking with Him. I would not consider that kind of rage now, and I don’t think God would be as tolerant now, but then He was glad I was talking. I still have anger at God at times, and I still have debates with God, but there is a great love for God as well.
I asked Pastor Don what to do about Jim, who was and still is a Catholic, and Pastor Don told me to say nothing to him. To go to Mass, be obedient, put my husband as spiritual head of the family, and let my life be the sermon I preach, not my words. (I have to admit that I can at times be rather high strung under stress, and am not a perfect role model for the Proverbs woman, but he did notice a difference.) Now Jim attends the Tuesday and Friday Bible studies, and respects Pastor Don as a great spiritual leader. I am leaving things in God’s hand, even more so now with Jim’s health issues.
I ended up giving all my occult books, tools, and writings to Pastor Don, and they were burned behind the church. Even though I am still struggling in areas, the amount of positive change that has come into my life with salvation is mind-boggling. I am not the same person I was before and could never consider going back to those old ways.
I still have a long way to go. But I have learned to love God, and to realize that He loves me (although I struggle with this). I am still seeing Pastor Don, but not as frequently, and he keeps telling me that satan lost a powerful ally when I got saved, and that one day God will use all of this to do wonderful things to help others. I keep studying and learning, I guess trying to make up for lost time. But I am praying that all I went through can be a blessing to others.
I am hoping that the saga I have shared with you is helpful. Trust me, never would I exchange my life with God now for anything. I am just hoping that any who are flirting with the new age or occult will have their eyes opened to how empty that is.
Heather
