Healing – Reflecting His Heart Ministries

The Sculptor

1 Comment / Healing, Hope, Restoration / Jennifer / September 26, 2024

Here’s another writing by my son. God has been at work in his heart and inspiring him to put pen to paper to share the healing taking place within him. I pray the following words will encourage you on your own journey with Jesus. ~ The Sculptor ~ There is a famous sculptor in our world, but He does not make statues out of marble, clay, or stone. No, He is a special kind of artist, one who can create the most magnificently beautiful things that you can ever lay your eyes on. In your mind, picture a Man who is of average height, but strong and sure of Himself and the quality of His work. He can craft the most awe-inspiring things in the world; the mountains, the seas, the sky in all its wondrous beauty, flitting with countless stars, which He also made. All of these things and more, He has created innumerable quantities of them, displaying His infinite creativity and power. However, these are not His most impressive work. You see the Man, in a workshop of sorts, molding away at a large block of clay. In a matter of moments, you see Him shaping what looks like the shape of another man, who’s countenance looks rather plain to you. Before you even have time to process it, the Sculptor wipes His brow and proudly proclaims that He is done with His masterpiece. It is a man of average appearance formed out of the clay block that was there just moments before. The Sculptor then breathes on the sculpture, and to your astonishment, the clay man comes to life! He begins to move and breathe on his own, where clay once was, flesh and bone are now present. You can tell that the Sculptor loves His creation more than anything else He has ever created, so much so that you cannot even really comprehend it. Immediately, time passes before you, and you see the clay man who was given flesh standing in front of you. He is surrounded by others like him, but they are jeering at the man, calling him all sorts of terrible things. However, the man does not become angry. As he stands there, tears begin to stream down his face, and he says, “Why can no one just accept me for who I am? Am I not handsome enough? Smart enough? Good looking enough?” You see the man in his home, but he does not feel much love or compassion there either. A man who looks like he could be his father, berates him, judges him, calls him unkind things, and even hits him sometimes. Although he looks like he is made of flesh, you see cracks that begin to appear in the man’s skin. In fact, he has been covered in them this whole time, but you only now took notice of them. The man retreats to be by himself and begins to cry to himself, “Why am I not good enough? Why can’t I just be different? Why was I made this way?” Your heart begins to break for this man as he sits alone in his misery. Next, you see the man walking alone in a wasteland of some kind. There are no other signs of life, and the man is covered in even more cracks than before. You hear him say to himself, “I’m never going to be good enough, so what’s the point. I’m a failure and always will be. Dad was right that I have no idea where I am going in life.” After walking some more, the man collapses to his knees, being able to no longer bear his suffering. He clutches his chest so tightly that he begins to think that he is going to die right then and there. However, to his surprise he does not, but he looks down at his hands that are now clutching something. In his hands is a small, ceramic heart, which is also covered in cracks and has pieces missing from its form. The man begins to sob uncontrollably at seeing this. Other parts of him begin to fall off of him as he wails in his anguish. His crying starts to quiet down, and he kneels there, hands clutching the shattered heart as if it was the last and most precious thing that he owned. Amidst the now quiet sobs, you can hear him muttering, “I can’t take this anymore. I’m tired of feeling so lonely and empty inside. I can’t ignore You anymore, even though that is what I have been doing for so many years now…I’m so sorry…please, help me…” In a moment faster than a heartbeat, you see the Great Sculptor from earlier standing in front of the shattered man. The shattered man is completely speechless and in awe of this Artist Supreme. The Sculptor says nothing but begins to pick up the pieces that had fallen off of the man. He takes each of them in His hands and begins to place them back onto the man who was once cracked and shattered. He then looks at the cracked heart still nestled in the man’s palms. For the first time, you hear this Creator speak, and you feel yourself compelled to bow down as low as you can possibly go at the Majesty of His voice. He says, “I AM here with you and have been chasing you all this time. I knew you before you even came into the world. You are the jewel of all of My creation. You are fearfully and wonderfully made, My child, and all of My works are wonderful (Psalm 139:14). I love you more than you can ever truly comprehend or realize.” The Sculptor takes the damaged heart, molds it in His noticeably scarred hands, and it comes out looking brand new and unscathed. He places the renewed heart back into the man’s chest, and at this, the man begins to weep saying, “I’m so

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The Scarred Healer

1 Comment / Healing, Hope / Jennifer / September 12, 2024

My kids and I have been on a healing journey for the past seven years. Divorce leaves many things in its wake. Shock, grief, disbelief, pain, and betrayal to name a few. Writing has always been an outlet for my emotions and I have 22 journals full of such. A few days ago, my son wrote down some of his own emotions as a way of working through the pain he’s experienced due to the events surrounding the divorce of his biological father and myself. After I read it, I asked him if I could publish it here for others to read as it might be just the thing that someone else needs to hear. He agreed to let me share his heart on this open forum in hopes that it touches someone who might be going through the same thing he has. My son doesn’t think he’s a writer but I thought this was so beautifully written, it needed to be shared. This is a beautiful example of what the power of surrender can do in ones heart if willing to take a step toward Jesus. He’s there and He’s waiting. I pray the following words will bless you this day. ~ The Scarred Healer ~ Within the confines of your mind, picture a vast desert of endless, cascading sands that blanket every square inch. No water, no relief, just unimaginable heat and dry air. There are zero signs of any life, not even a cactus or lizard. As you skirt the landscape amidst the sky, as if you were a bird in flight, you see a shape begin to form in the distance. At first, you think that you have finally spotted some kind of vegetation, some sign of life in this wasteland, but as you come closer to the mysterious object, you begin to see that it seems distinctly human. You notice that the shape you saw from far off is, in fact, a man. He is knelt on his knees, arms wrapped around his form as if he is trying with all his might to keep something hidden from view. He is completely exposed to the elements with no clothes on his back. You begin to feel compassion for this enigmatic figure, yet you find yourself unable to interact with him at all. You notice that the man is completely covered in scars from his head to the bottoms of his legs. Startling you out of your stupor, the man begins to cry softly to himself, almost sounding not like an adult man, but a small, scared child. You feel like your heart is being torn apart by the sorrow you can feel in the man’s gentle sobs, but you hold it together. Amidst the cries, you can faintly hear the man speak for the first time since you found him. You can just barely hear him say, “I can’t take this anymore. Why did I have to be hurt? What did I do to him to deserve this?” The man pauses briefly, then you hear him continue, “Was it something I did wrong? Was I not good enough? Was I not strong or smart enough?” As if it took every ounce of strength left within him, you hear him say, “I’m done with running away. I’m so tired. Please, even though I don’t deserve it and ran away, will you take me back?” You start to say something, then, suddenly, there is a blinding flash of light that is so bright, you think that you’ll go blind. As your vision comes back to you, you see another man, standing in front of the scarred man. He is radiant beyond belief, as if the light itself is bowing before Him, and He also has scars, one in each wrist and in both of His feet. The Man who is more than a man kneels in front of the scarred man, who looks completely awestruck. Tears begin to stream down the scarred man’s face, as he stares into the face of this God-Man. He cries out with a loud voice, “I’m so sorry My Lord! I’m so sorry that I ran away from You! You, who had always been by my side! How could I do such a thing?” The God-Man simply looked at him in the eyes and said, “My child, you were forgiven long ago. I have loved you since before you were formed in your mother’s womb and I will always love you, no matter what you do.” The Radiant One then took a large, white linen sheet and wrapped it around the scarred man, saying, “By My sacrifice you have been made clean. By My stripes you have been healed. Come and follow Me.” As He said these things, He wiped the tears from the scarred man’s eyes and offered out His own scarred hand. The scarred man immediately took the scarred hand of the God-Man, but they did not start walking away just yet. The God-Man turned around, looking at you, reader, saying, “I laid my life down as a ransom for you as well. Come and follow Me.” Now, with tears streaming from your own face, you take the God-Man by His other scarred hand, and follow Him. This God-Man has a name. His name is Jesus, and He gave EVERYTHING so that we may be healed. I don’t know where you’re at in life, what you believe, or the pain that you have suffered, but if there is anything that you get out of this story, it’s that Jesus is very real, and He wants to heal you of all that pain. As Jesus Himself stated, “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep” (John 10:10). In case you didn’t catch it, I, Jeremiah Blankenship, am the scarred man in the story. I won’t go into all the details of my

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Set Free from the Ties that Bind

3 Comments / Healing, Hope, Memories, Praise / Tami / March 19, 2024

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity or cowardice or fear, but of power and of love, and of sound judgement and personal discipline (abilities that result in a calm, well-balanced mind and self-control). ~ 2 Timothy 1:7 {AMP} Today I’m giving myself permission to free-write in my “good journal.” To write whatever comes to mind, as in Dear Diary…and go from there. I know…normally I wouldn’t take such a daring risk without having a specific topic in mind, but I’ve confined myself to patterns of strictness and structure my whole life and today I just want to let go, have fun, live life, and que sera sera (whatever will be, will be)…at least as far as my writing goes. A writing coach once made the suggestion regarding the “good journal” (to actually use it) and had me almost convinced it was a good idea. I know…it boggles the mind! I was “this close” to diving into those special pages that I was saving for the perfect words and the perfectly special day they would arrive. But I decided against it. Deep inside I was thinking, “what if I make a mistake, my hand-writing is bad, I scribble, or accidentally smudge ink globs onto the beautiful paper?” It would all be ruined, never to be my perfect journal again. The gamble was too great. I decided for all non-structured writing and off-the-cuff thoughts, I must stick with the notebook paper I picked up at the dollar store. The last thing I wanted was for the pages of my beautiful, leather-bound journal to fall into the wrong hands…my hands. The paper needed to remain perfectly unblemished, awaiting the fruition of a secret dream, that sometime in the future my elegant penmanship would be found as an old, abandoned journal, pages yellowed with age, the ink (from an inkwell, of course) forming sentences flowing flawlessly across the page in calligraphic style, telling tales of danger and heroism. But how could that be? I didn’t have that journal, or that life, or those words. I only had my life and my words. So…that prompted me to reflect on my own childhood and of being a little girl in 1960s America. Maybe I could find something “there” to write about. So many recollections of growing up bring a smile to my face and warmth to my heart. So much so, it’s even tempting to want to return to those simpler days, but of course that’s not possible. And I almost want to interject here that forward is the only option open to us, but that’s not quite true. Sadly, we can also remain stationary, static…stuck. I’ve actually spent a lot of time there; in the stationary, stuck in the status quo, held hostage by something that at its root is fear. More specifically, it’s a fear of ruination (that’s RUIN-ation not another word referring to using the facilities). Anyway, it begins, shall we say…innocuously; and when you’re five years old just about everything is innocuous. Merriam-Webster defines innocuous as “not likely to give offense or to arouse strong feelings or hostility.” If we were lucky, our little-kid-selves went about each day being little kids. Our job was to play, learn, play some more, eat, sleep, and repeat. Children are sponges. They soak everything up, take everything in, even or especially, the innocuous. And sometimes an internalized, innocuous message lasts a lifetime. Allow me to share a story. One day recently I was thinking about my childhood dolls, what their names were, when I got them and what eventually became of them. There are two or three I gave to my daughter when she was little and they remain with her, but what of the others? I decided to do an Internet search for fun. Not to find my very dolls, but to find their likenesses, if possible. To my delight, I found most of them for sale on vintage resale sites like e-bay and other online sellers, and it’s simply magical how a first glance of an old toy can bring back the sights and sounds of bygone days, or trigger the memory of the unique smell of opening and holding a new doll on the Christmas mornings of yesteryear. I didn’t get dolls throughout the year, so that special “new-doll-smell” is forever married to Christmas in my mind and heart. Anyway, through the miracle of technology I found Baby Boo, who cried whenever her pacifier was taken away, and Snugglebunnie Baby whose name I shortened to simply, Bunnie. Then I came across Baby First Step and Swingy, who weren’t infants but rather, toddler dolls who walked and danced with the power of batteries and pull-strings. That’s when, in my scrolling to peruse images of my childhood treasures (accessories included), I came across the doll I had named “Teeny Baby.” She was petite, hence her name, with milky white skin, rosy cheeks, and strawberry-blonde hair. In the online photo I didn’t recognize the dress she wore as one I’d ever owned or seen before, but something else was amiss and the more I studied her image, the more I knew this Teeny Baby lacked something. I looked closer: her hair was exactly the right color as though blonde locks were stained gently by red berries, her porcelain cheeks kissed by angels, and the pink pout of her lips as perfect as a freshly-born babe. She was beautiful. But she was different. This was a close likeness of my Teeny Baby…and yet she wasn’t her. “She’s exactly the same doll, so what is different?” I studied her carefully, not able to put my finger on it. Then it hit me. This doll’s hair, while still tidy and obviously well-cared-for after many decades, was loose and free, just a little mussed. But my Teeny Baby’s hair had been perfect; perfectly coiffed, never a hair out of place…because it was also perfectly contained in parts of her original packaging. A tight, white net

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Fire and Ice

Leave a Comment / Healing, Hope, Reflection / Jennifer / January 20, 2024

“Do you know what happens when ice touches a hot surface? It evaporates!” Why is it that certain words have more impact than others? Why is it that some never seem to get purged from the filing cabinet in our mind and are brought to the surface more times than we care to admit? Is it because of who said them? The tone or inflection in the voice? The context in which they were said? Or is it because such words were so hurtful and were seared into the memory bank so deep, they can’t help but to surface now and again? I pass an electronic billboard every Sunday on my way to church. Yesterday, just as I passed by, the words fire and ice popped up and stood out like a neon sign vying for my attention. I have no idea what was being advertised but the fire and ice reference that came to my mind, is the sentence above. Two simple nouns in the English language forever altered in my mind due to the hurtful way in which they were verbalized to me. I truly believe they will be etched there forevermore. However, what makes the difference now is how I choose to view them. They can be a source of grief and depression or I can look at them as being one of the first steps in the process toward my ultimate freedom from abuse and trauma. A few years before the message above was seared into the recesses of my mind, my spouse, as he was at that time, was involved in a battle for his very soul. It was not a physical battle he was engaged in but a spiritual one. He didn’t talk to me very often about the warring that went on in his mind, but the few times he did, he said if he couldn’t be hot in his walk with the LORD, he might as well be cold. He was referring to a passage of scripture found in the book of Revelation where Jesus is talking to the church at Laodicea, which is modern day Turkey. They had lost their first love. This church had become lovers of self and had fallen into apostasy. They had become apathetic. In other words, they refused to continue in what they knew to be truth. They simply decided to reject God and His commands. Essentially, they had become “black sheep christians”. (If there is such a thing.) “‘I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth. For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.” ~ Revelation 3:15-17 ESV This was the battle that raged in his mind. He had become apathetic towards God and truth. He lived in a gray area, of which God is not. God is black and white; absolute; right or wrong; no middle ground. Once my former spouse made the decision to be cold towards God, his coldness toward me increased as well. My initial thought about his decision to go cold was that perhaps it wouldn’t have been a bad thing because God can work with an absolute. I prayed for the Holy Spirit to convict his troubled heart and bring him back. What happened was quite the opposite. Instead, he withdrew from me even more and spent a lot of time alone. He left the house to get away from me as often as he could and didn’t talk to me very much. At the time, I didn’t understand it but, as I reflect on this scripture from Revelation, his words above, and consider them with everything I know now, it makes perfect sense. As one who loves Jesus with her whole heart, I have a very difficult time understanding how anyone who’s known perfect love, grace, mercy, and forgiveness, could ever willingly walk away from it. (These are the beautiful gifts received ~ through no merit of one’s own ~ when one becomes a child of God through the blood of Jesus Christ.) When I gave my heart to Jesus, I had the desire to do whatever He wanted me to do and go wherever He wanted me to go. I cannot get away from the fact that my heart belongs to Him…forever. I will be transparent and admit right here that there was a brief period of time when I chose to do some things I knew were wrong. I knew I had made a conscious choice to sin but I did it anyway. I had my reasons at the time and yes, I justified them to myself. Didn’t change the fact that I was 100% wrong! But one morning, as I was stopped at a red-light, conviction hit me like a ton of bricks. The presence of the Holy Spirit filled my car and if I’d have been able to, I would’ve been flat on my face! Being strapped in by a seat-belt, I bowed my head as far down as I could get it and with tears of grief pouring from my eyes, confessed my blatant sin to my Heavenly Father. I asked Him to forgive my rebellious heart and restore my relationship with Him. And He did! In that very moment, the weight I’d been carrying was lifted. All I had to do was ask. That’s how I know that I know that I know, if you are a true child of God, you absolutely, 100% CANNOT live in sin because the Almighty, Holy God will NOT allow His children to do so. It is an impossibility. The Holy Spirit will convict. No words have to be uttered. No audible voice from the clouds need reach your ears. (Even though I believe with all my heart those things are possible if

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Mistaken Identity ~ Funeral Fire

2 Comments / Healing, Hope, Restoration, Strength / Jennifer / November 16, 2023

I didn’t think it would be that simple. Finding closure. Agonizing over the lack thereof for years only to embrace it with one simple choice. To go back to the exact same place it all started. It’s so amazing how the Holy Spirit orchestrates a myriad of details and then brings them all together as a beautiful symphony of glory and praise to the Father. The good and the bad. The grief and the laughter. The defeats as well as the victories. My finite mind will never be able to comprehend the depth of His love for me nor how He can take one of the most grievous life events and bring beauty from its ashes. It’s just what He does because He is God and He can. Earlier this year, I told my mom I would like to fly out to the Pacific NW to visit her and my step-dad. I hadn’t been there for three years so knew it was time. I didn’t have any definite plans but did tell her I’d look at some dates and let her know. A few weeks later, she called and asked me if I was still coming. The anticipation in her voice was something I couldn’t dismiss as just a simple inquiry. She wanted me to come see her. That’s all it took for me to start looking at airfare and flight itineraries. Long story short, I reserved vacation time off at work, then booked my flight and purchased my tickets. I’m not sure why, but I’m always amazed at how each decision I make somehow corresponds with the next one. I’m finally understanding what it means to walk in the plans God has for me. The ever illusive “you need to find God’s will for your life” from my youth group days has taken on a whole new meaning since I realized when I keep Him at the center of my life and allow Him to be in control, the path I’m to walk opens up before me with very little effort. There’s no stress and no drama. It just works. About a week after I booked my flight, I had an appointment with my trauma counselor. At that time, I was still trying to wrap my mind around the realization that had come to light in our previous session. The enormity of knowing that my ex saw me as a child in need of “training” during our marriage still weighed very heavy on my heart. I didn’t know what to do with it. In the interim between appointments my mental state was foggy. Not knowing which way to turn or what to think, I decided to stay focused on the truth I held in my heart that God had me…no matter what was happening. During our conversation, we started discussing closure. I do not believe in coincidences because God is sovereign and nothing in my life happens by chance. It’s by design. As we talked, she asked me if there was something I could do to find closure. Something tangible to convince my mind it was time to put the painful past behind me and move forward. I thought about it for a moment then said, “Well, I’m going back home in a few weeks….that’s where I met him, we dated, and got married…the church is still there…perhaps going there would help…” I had no idea how going back to the church we were married in would aid in my search for closure, but knew the Holy Spirit would lead me into every detail at the right time. And He did. For the next few weeks, the choice to go back to the church came together. I found a box in my closet with a few wedding photos, birthday cards, notes, etc that I thought I’d long since destroyed but hadn’t. I asked my daughter to get my original wedding set out of her safe so I could take it with me. (I’d given it to her right after the divorce because I wasn’t ready, at that time, to part with it.) When my daughter gave my rings back, my former spouse’s original wedding band was there as well. (I’d had it sized to fit my finger and started wearing it when he made us new rings for our 15th wedding anniversary.) I had forgotten I’d given it to her to keep for me. As I held those rings in my hand, I thought it was just as it should be. Gold circles that were once symbols of a love and covenant that should’ve had no end, were now just hollow reminders of broken vows, betrayal, and abandonment. Having his ring to bury along with mine, brought additional confirmation that the closure I longed for was well within my grasp. Design. The old hymn “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” had been on my mind for days and I couldn’t figure out why I kept singing it over and over. There’s a phrase in the second verse that says “Here I raise mine Ebenezer, hither by Thy help I’m come”. There was something about those words that compelled me to know more about them so I started researching it a bit deeper. My search led me to the lyrics and the lyrics, to the Old Testament. Specifically, 1 Samuel 7:7-12. 7 Now when the Philistines heard that the people of Israel had gathered at Mizpah, the lords of the Philistines went up against Israel. And when the people of Israel heard of it, they were afraid of the Philistines. 8 And the people of Israel said to Samuel, “Do not cease to cry out to the LORD our God for us, that He may save us from the hand of the Philistines.” 9 So Samuel took a nursing lamb and offered it as a whole burnt offering to the LORD. And Samuel cried out to the LORD for Israel, and the LORD answered him. 10 As Samuel was offering up the burnt offering, the Philistines drew near to attack Israel. But

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Mistaken Identity ~ Seen and Not Heard

Leave a Comment / Healing, Hope, Restoration / Jennifer / August 25, 2023

Identity – the distinguishing character or personality of an individual Individuality – total character peculiar to and distinguishing an individual from others; separate and distinct existence ~ Merriam Webster Dictionary Pretty straight forward, isn’t it? Makes sense. Easy to wrap your mind around, right? For most people anyway. Not so much for others. Those others include me. I always thought I knew who I was. Daughter. Sister. Granddaughter. Aunt. (Ex)Wife. Sister-in-Law. Mom. Mother-in-Law. Nana. Friend. Employee. Sunday School teacher. Writer. Each of these roles describe who I am or was. With each one, I can picture in my mind those they pertain to and how each one is different, distinct, and separate. Even though they’re all part of who I am, each one carries with it a very different purpose. Within the past week, I’ve realized I played another role in the life of an individual to whom the role was never meant to be played. But it makes sense now. Seems like all the pieces have finally fallen into place. Answers to questions I didn’t know I needed have become reality. Before the internet was at our fingertips twenty-four seven/three sixty-five, there was a periodical called a newspaper. I’m old enough to remember it being delivered every morning by a young boy on his bicycle. As he pedaled past the front yard, he’d toss the newspaper towards the house and, hopefully, if he had good aim, it would land someplace near the front porch. The newspaper was full of both local and world events, engagements, weddings, births, deaths, etc. But right in the middle was a huge section called the classifieds or the “want-ads”. If you had something you were interested in buying and/or selling (such as a car, a boat, or a new house) or were in need of a job, you’d peruse the want-ads to see if anyone had the item you wanted to buy or were offering the type of job you were seeking. The want-ads were the perfect source for buying and/or selling tangible merchandise or finding just the right place of employment to meet your needs. Yes, the newspaper truly was a wealth of knowledge and kept us informed of all the goings-on in the world. Oh, how I wish there were a periodical, book, or magazine I could search and find answers for this recent discovery from my past. It would be so much easier if I could search Amazon for a manual entitled “Jennifer ~ How to Heal and Move On From All the Insane & Grievous Things You Had to Deal With While Married to Your Ex”!! Unfortunately, there are some things a newspaper could never help with, even if they were still in circulation. There are some things that cannot be found by diligently perusing words in a book, magazine, or even the internet. There are some things that cannot be found by seeking out worldly answers to questions that are screaming from a broken heart. There are some situations that occur in this life we cannot control nor wrap our mind around nor find answers to no matter how many times we do a google search. There are some things that can only be found by surrendering everything to Almighty God then patiently wait and trust Him to bring the answer…in His time. Two passages of scripture just popped into my mind that help me in the waiting. “Then you will call upon Me and come and pray to Me, and I will hear you. You will seek Me and find Me, when you seek Me with all your heart.” ~ Jeremiah 29:12-13 ESV “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And He who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose.” ~ Romans 8:26-28 ESV For most people, waiting on God’s timing and trusting Him to work everything out isn’t a popular choice. Most people (and that most includes me) want an easy fix so the problem or situation will go away and life can go back to being “normal” again, if there is such a thing. I have sought out easy fixes to situations in the past and have found them to be a futile endeavor. I am human with a finite mind. I cannot see all nor do I know everything. But my God does. He sees and knows everything. God’s timing is infinitely perfect. So, I completely trust Him when new discoveries are brought into the light. Even when I don’t understand them. It all started with an afternoon counseling session. It never ceases to amaze me how God leads the conversation to exactly what I need to say in order for my counselor to ask all the right questions. We never set an agenda for our sessions. We just start talking and trust the Holy Spirit to lead. And He always does. Besides healing from the grief of divorce itself, there is one thing I have longed for. Closure. I guess you can say it’s been a mission of sorts to put the past behind me and move forward. While I have made great strides toward that end, there has been something holding me back. There has been a missing factor in the equation. That is, up until a few days ago. It was something I already knew but did not realize I had completely missed the context as it has now been presented. It was the missing factor that was holding everything back. When I was finally able to add it to the other things my heart has been grieving over and wrestling with, it all started to make sense. While

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A Cry for Freedom ~ Part 2

Leave a Comment / Healing, Hope, Restoration / Tami / August 22, 2023

“Stand fast in the liberty by which Christ has made us free, and do not be entangled again with a yoke of bondage (slavery).” ~ Galatians 5:1 NKJV ~ “He delivers me from my enemies: You lift me up above those who rise against me; you delivered me from the violent man.” ~ 2 Samuel 22:49 NKJV ~ “He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never sound retreat; He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgement seat; O be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant, my feet! Our God is marching on! “Glory! Glory hallelujah! Glory! Glory hallelujah! Glory! Glory hallelujah! Our God is marching on!” ~Battle Hymn of the Republic~ It has been said that freedom isn’t free. There is always a price to pay; a cost to be counted. In this imperfect, sometimes downright evil world, being free means an enemy has to be conquered. So who is the enemy? It could be argued there are many different enemies who show up in our life and the course it follows. And while that’s correct, the rock-bottom truth is there is one enemy of this world and the people that inhabit it. Satan is that enemy and he is called the Prince of Darkness (Eph 6:12), The Enemy (Psalm 89:22), The Adversary (1 Peter 5:8), Father of Lies (John 8:44), Evil One (1 John 5:29), Lawless One (2 Thes 2:9), Devil (Rev 12:9-12), (John 8:44), Deceiver (1 John 3:7), Murderer (John 8:44), Tempter (Matt 4:3), Serpent (Gen 3:14-15), Accuser (Rev 12:9), and Beast (Rev 20:10). I hold to a Biblical worldview, and referenced above is scripture that uses these names and descriptions for Satan. It is not complimentary, by any means! At first glance, in the tedious, routine conduction of our daily lives, we might not recognize his menacing ways: the whispers of self-criticism (or hyper-criticism of others) that creep into our thoughts and often set up camp, or the daily struggles that we all experience that might consume us unless we fight back: low esteem, sickness & disease (including physical, mental and emotional pressures), financial difficulties or job loss, divorce, death of a loved one, domestic abuse, addictions, or homelessness. Any of these and more, while they might be part of what we experience in life, can be made worse by the common enemy we all share. His many names are listed above. He is the enemy. But we have victory in Jesus! We are instructed in 1 Peter 5:8 to “Be sober-minded and watchful. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” Yet just prior, in verse seven, we are told, “Give all your worries and cares to God, for He cares for you.” Friend, you do not have to be a slave to the enemy or captured by his advances. He has the power to try to derail your joy, your success, the good things in your life (or use the inevitable unfortunate circumstances of life to make you feel worse), but the truth is, he has already been defeated. He lost at the cross when Jesus, the perfect sacrifice, shed His blood, died and rose to life again. In that act, that battle, Jesus secured our future once and for all time. This world, this earth, this universe has been in a fallen state since mankind first sinned and allowed evil to be brought into creation’s history. And it will still be in a fallen, cursed state until Jesus comes a second time. He came the first time as a baby, a lamb to be sacrificed. That happened, when as an adult, he hung and died on a cross. But when He comes again, it won’t be as a baby, meek and mild. He’s coming as the Lion of Judah, to rid this world of evil and redeem His creation…all of it: the earth and all that is in it, the galaxies with their stars flung to the far reaches of the Universe, and most prized of all, His people…His beloved children…restored to perfection. In the meantime, the bible says in 2 Corinthians 5:17 “Anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” As a teenager in the 1970s, I first memorized this verse the way the Living Bible Paraphrase puts it: “When someone becomes a Christian, he becomes a brand new person inside. He is not the same anymore. A new life has begun!” Our newness begins in that moment. God no longer sees us as the mish-mash of mistakes that our life has become, but sees us only through the filter of the perfection that is His Son. When we admit we can’t do it on our own, when we put our faith in Jesus and choose Him…to love, to follow, to pattern our very life after…we become brand new in His eyes. We belong to Him; we are His beloved child. We may look the same on the outside, to the physical eye, but we are not the same…we belong to Jesus and that newness of belonging is all that will ever matter. There is freedom in Jesus. The first words in the first sentence of this blog post are “freedom isn’t free.” And it isn’t. Jesus paid the price with His body and His life. He gave it willingly because He knew that was the cost of freedom…a perfect, sinless sacrifice. We could never meet that standard of perfection to do it ourselves, even if we wanted to. “God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever (you and me) believed in Him would not perish but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16) It cost God His Son, it cost Jesus His life, so that we could have His Holy Spirit save us (rescue us) from tormenting captivity. The Bible says this is the free gift of God, and not something any human could

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A Cry for Freedom ~ Part 1

1 Comment / Healing, Hope, Restoration / Tami / July 26, 2023

“Blessed be the Lord, my Rock, who trains my hands for war, and my fingers for battle.” ~Psalm 144:1 “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightening of His terrible swift sword; His truth is marching on… Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.” ~Battle Hymn of the Republic During this month of celebrating our nation’s independence, I can’t help but ponder the words of the Battle Hymn of the Republic, by Julia Ward Howe. The anthem, not written during the Revolutionary War, but during the American Civil War of 1861-1865, is a call to arms and a cry for freedom for those still enslaved, regardless of race or creed. The author exhorts those who are willing, to fight for freedom, to the death if necessary, but without complacency as an option. Human beings…family, neighbors, loved ones…were being exploited, abused and enslaved for the gain of certain others who weren’t willing to change. Her heart cried out for an end to this abomination resulting in the penning of this sacred hymn. America was a nation split in two over an evil that was being tolerated, and it was time for that abhorrence to end. In the years just prior to his presidency, in a speech during his bid for the U.S. Senate in 1858, Abraham Lincoln quoted from Scripture, “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” In a modern biblical translation, the New Living Translation, it reads, “A kingdom divided by civil war will collapse; similarly, a family splintered by feuding will fall apart.” This was our country in the mid-nineteenth century; fast forward to modern times and this was my home-life for longer than I care to admit. As a young bride, I wrongly believed my complete love and devotion could heal, even reverse, the wounds of the past that manifested in my then-husband. He’d had a difficult upbringing, for sure. But I believed with my whole heart that my love could, and would, stem the tide of his brokenness and set his life—our life together—on a steady course. Smooth sailing was to be had for those who believe that love conquers all. But there were more than a few inherent problems with that line of thinking, the first being that of the two of us, I was the only one who believed it. As it was, I suppose that served to motivate me to try all the more. I was young and naïve but I would soon learn that one-way love is not a recipe for wedded bliss. Problems two and three weren’t any small challenge either. I had married someone with an addiction who was also incapable of humility or returning love—a narcissist. When I married in 1985 I didn’t even know what those things were, not by definition anyway, but I quickly learned their meaning by sharing life with a person who was plagued by these disorders. There is a lot of information available now on these topics, but not so much 40 years ago. Nor was access to information easy in those days. I’m not going to belabor the clinical aspects of these disorders with their deep, gnarly, life-choking roots, but I will share my experience in the hopes of dissuading others from following a similar path, or to encourage you if you are reading this and find yourself in need of hope. I unfortunately realized when I married at age 23 that like The Wizard of Oz’ Dorothy, I’d been “caught up in the cyclone.” That’s really the most concise way to describe the whirlwind that quickly became my life. You see, I came from a family of stability and my childhood was relatively uneventful in terms of trauma or chaos. My parents both held down steady jobs. Their work ethic was strong, and the first thing done with money from their paychecks was the paying of bills; there was a roof over my head, food on the table, and clothes on my back. Whatever was left-over after meeting financial obligations went toward other life necessities, and then, perhaps, a few “wants” on the side. My sisters and I had bicycles and games, toys and books, and if truth be told, we were probably the envy of the neighborhood. That neighborhood was filled with families of modest means, including mine. It was far from affluent, not even close, but we were blessed. Blessed with parents that worked hard, knew how to budget, and knew how to make the most of what they had. They were both children of the Great Depression and my life was blessed, in part, because of their knack for “making something out of nothing.” I think this is a long-winded way of saying my sisters and I were loved and cared for, our needs met, and we were blessed with a fair amount of extras, as well. This is not to say my family was perfect because all families have some amount of challenging dynamics, but it is fair to say we were closer to The Cleaver’s than The Hatfield’s and McCoy’s. (Now that I think about it, there might have been a tad bit of Hatfield and McCoy thrown into the mix, or closer still, the occasional Beverly Hillbillies…but mostly Cleaver by the time it got to my generation). Anyway, families like my family of origin do not just happen out of thin air. The reason we benefitted was because the adults in the home were, in fact, adults. They lived responsible lives because first, it’s who they were, and second, because they understood what it meant to “train up a child in the way he should go” so that

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His Desires (My Heart)

2 Comments / Encouragement, Healing, Hope / Jennifer / May 29, 2023

This is going to take time. I knew it wouldn’t be an easy road to walk and even expected a few set-backs, as there always are when you’re in the healing process. What I didn’t expect was how quickly it happened. Before I knew it, my mind returned to the place is was comfortable for so many years. One random conversation and I was back in that place of agreement; that place of acquiescence; that place of submission to whatever was said to protect myself from confrontation. It scared me. I don’t want to go back there. But my mind did. Automatically. As if someone had flipped a switch. The transition was flawless. Right back to the same old pattern; right back to the same old response. It was then I realized I have more healing ahead and probably more heart wrenching realizations as well. When I was in elementary school, grammar and punctuation were integral parts of learning the English language. While I have retained the know-how of using both of these without issue, reciting the exact rules that govern each one have long since left the building. (I’m thankful to have a daughter who just so happens to be an English major and helps me whenever I forget the finer points of the only language I know how to speak.) One part of punctuation that has always intrigued me are the parentheses. Two side-ways smiles that encompass an added thought, word, or phrase. Perhaps the word or phrase isn’t a huge part of the overall storyline but the author felt it important enough to include to give the reader another detail or even just a side-note of interest. The Almighty Author of my life story has added a parentheses to this chapter of the manuscript. It may not be a huge part of my overall storyline but it’s important to include so I don’t get caught up in another cycle of abuse. If you have followed this ministry for any length of time, you are well versed on my story. Up until five years ago, I was in a marital relationship that was filled with abuse, deception, and manipulation. It wasn’t pretty. It was a desperate way to live and my mind has suffered greatly due to the influence of those things. However, while in the midst of it, I didn’t see it as abuse. I thought everyone’s marriage was as mine was. I couldn’t have been more deceived. I was raised with the belief that the man was the head of the home, the Spiritual leader and, as any good Christian wife, I was to submit and allow him to lead and help me grow in my relationship with Jesus, as well as with him. I not only believed it, I wanted it. I actually welcomed it. I wanted a godly man, strong in his faith, to study the bible and pray with. I wanted him to be the leader of our home and our family. I knew if I married such a man, the submission part would come naturally because I’d be secure in his leadership and trust he was being Spirit led through personal bible study and prayer. I thought I had done that. However, I didn’t marry such a man. I married a man who only pretended to be all of those things and he kept me fooled for quite a long time. Since Jesus rescued me from that existence, I have learned many things about the reality I lived in for so long. I didn’t realize I had been married to a narcissist until many months after the divorce. I’d never even heard the word before, much less knew what it was. Behavior doesn’t lie. One can deceive you with smooth and perfectly practiced words about who and what they are, but when it comes to their actions, it gives away the intent of their heart every time! The behavior my ex exhibited those last few years of our marriage were textbook narcissism. (Knowing what I do now, I’m sure narcissism was always the “third person” in our relationship but not knowing it was an actual mental health issue, I was completely oblivious.) Over the course of many years, my mind was abused and manipulated one minute then “love-bombed” twenty minutes later and all of it coming from the very same person. It’s an exceptionally difficult thing to come to terms with. Even after all the time that has passed, my mind is still affected by the trauma. Back and forth. Ebb and flow. Right now, that’s my mind in a nutshell. Cognitive dissonance. After some online research of my own, I realized this is the culmination of what’s going on in my head. I live with two opposing views in my mind. I love him then I hate him. I miss him then I’m thankful he’s gone. There are times I know I’m over him and others I don’t think I’ll ever be. But, if there has been one thing deeply engrained into my heart during this journey with Jesus it’s that I know, beyond any doubt, God’s got me. If He allows something to touch my life, He has a purpose for it. I thought my days of counseling and therapy were behind me. I thought my days of being overwhelmed by grief and trauma had long since passed. However, since experiencing the results of the conversation mentioned above, it proved my mind is in need of more healing. My previous life was very compartmentalized. I used to think it was from all the years in the military but now I know it was from being married to a narcissist for over three decades. It’s how his brain worked and, over the years, it spilled over onto me. For almost 20 years, I marked time as, “when we PCS’d to Fort Irwin, CA, our first child was born and he was promoted to Captain” or “then we moved to Alaska

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Footprints to Follow

3 Comments / Healing, Hope, Memories / Tami / May 25, 2023

“Let us labor for our Master from the dawn ‘til setting sun, let us talk of all His wondrous love and care; then when all of life is over and our work on earth is done, and the roll is called up yonder I’ll be there.” James M. Black 1856-1938 ~ Baptist Hymnal “She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue. She watches over the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children rise up and call her blessed…Charm is deceitful and beauty is in vain, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.” ~ Proverbs 31:26-28a & 30-31 (ESV) She is still, silent, never to speak again. “Oh, Mommy,” the child in me choked upon seeing the woman who gave me life, laying lifeless in her hospice bed. Only an hour or so since breathing her last, she is sallow with that tell-tale pallor of death. I round the foot of the bed, coming along side her. Taking her cool hand in the warmth of mine, caressing timidly, I notice higher on her arm, toward her heart, she is warm. For a moment I wonder if the doctor was wrong and there is still life deep inside, waiting to be revived…just waiting for permission to live again. Laying my head on her chest, tears trickling from my eyes to pool on her skin, I startle, surprised at the left-over sounds of life gurgling in her hollow lungs. Once, evenly and robustly moving air in out, now echo as though a shell; silence, except for the settling of air. The remnants of her life’s breath. I long for you to speak, for your eyes to flutter or your hand to squeeze mine, but it’s not to be. You lay there peacefully, your eyes closed in the deep sleep of death, and your hand cannot return my touch. But as for speaking…you continue. Your “voice” is different now and I can no longer hear it with my ears, for it has become a voice I must hear with only the memories of my heart. You promise me I’ve learned enough to go on from here, that you’ve taught me well, and this isn’t the end. As with all the motherly teaching you’ve done in my life, you remind me you’ve simply gone up ahead so that I have a footpath to follow. So, I’ll take shaky steps into those footprints that always seemed too large for me, and I’ll try to fill them to overflowing so my own children can be confident in the way they lead. Because this is not our home. From the beginning you pointed me to Jesus, because He is The Way home. He is exactly where we need to be. The only One we’ll ever need. “For in Him, we live and move and have our being.” ~ Acts 17:28 (ESV) “Train up a child in the way he should go; and when he is old he will not depart from it.” ~Proverbs 22:6 (ESV)

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