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The hidden half of domestic violence

How to have eternal life


Val's story may seem hard to believe, but that is exactly what satan wants. For the very unbelievably of it will keep others that it has happened to from seeking help. It is by exposing these abuses, these pains to the Light of God's Holy Word that healing can begin. It is by telling these stories, stories that really happened that satan can be exposed and strongholds torn down. Remember my friend, the deeper the secret, the stronger the stronghold. Let us tear some down. If you have had anything like this happen to you, call the GARBAGE COLLECTOR and get all the Garbage taken out! 

Now playing...AMAZING GRACE..for it is still amazing that HE should love us....

VAL'S STORY

Panic attacks! They started so suddenly, out of nowhere.  Thoughts racing through my mind. 

What if  I get stuck in the elevator?  What if I have to use the restroom and have an accident?  What if I canít
breathe?  What if Iím in there for days and canít get food?  What if someone decides he has power over me
and wonít let me out?  Bridges, should I have my windows open or closed in case the bridge collapses.
And there were tunnels, crowded rooms, and airplanes. 

Where did these thoughts come from?  Why would I feel my heart racing, my hands get clammy, my knees turning into rubber?   Why was I gasping for breadth? 

A trip to a Christian counselor and a year of talking, excruciating memories surfacing, anger, feeling like I
was losing my mind.  Was I going to wind up in the hospital and never get better?  O I remembered the
beatings as a child, I remember my mother talking about things like suicide, running away, divorce.  I
remembered my clothes being ripped off, being drug by my hair, and being punched till I collapsed.  I
remembered being sexually abused by my parentsí friend when I was six.  I was abused by my male baby sitter for over a year when I was ten.  My grandfather approached me when I was just becoming a teen.
I thought I had dealt with all this. 

Now what!  Could it be a vitamin deficiency?  My counselor listened and suggested that I had suppressed memories.  Fear gripped me.  What could they be?  He assured me that it was probably just a little more details of what I already knew.  He prayed that the Lord would reveal to me what I was suppressing.  For two weeks, day-by-day, the story unfolded.  I saw myself in a very ornate trunk with another boy.  I thought he was sleeping and then I realized he was dead! 

My heart started to race! Was I responsible? I shook him to try to wake him up.  It was no use.  We were locked in this trunk together.  It seems like we were being carried in some sort of pageant.  And then taken to a campground in the woods.  There was a bonfire and I was told that I was supposed to be sacrificed but my mother pleaded my case and so this boy was taking my place.  There were people dancing around in black costumes praising satan. 

They placed the boy on the bonfire and worshiped.  My next memory was even more horrific.
satan wasnít pleased and he wanted me. This was a baby girl.  She looked very much like me.  Could this be my sister?  She was dead lying on the wood.  I was told to urinate on her face so that satan would smell my
urine and be satisfied.  After burning her they forced me to eat her bowel movement which they had saved.
This would be my way of thanking satan.  When this memory came back, I was in Toys r Us and I almost
vomited on the floor.  During this process, I would hyperventilate.  I wasnít sure Iíd ever be sane and
healed. 

My next memory was even worse.  Now there was a live child.  satan was still not satisfied.  They
wanted me to light the match for the bonfire.  I lit it, but then I immediately threw water on the boy.
Instantly I felt a gun at my temple.  ďDonít you know that you are the one who is supposed to be
sacrificed?Ē   After the sacrifice was complete, I was told, ďIf you ever tell anyone about this, you will
never see your mother again.Ē     What shame, what would people think?  What did I think?  Could my mind
manufacture such an unbelievable story?  How could my parents let this happen? 

My counselor listened as I  recounted the events I was remembering.  Did I make this up?  He said, ďdo you think you would come up with a story like this?Ē  I had to honestly say ďno.Ē  What would my family, husband brothers, sister, think if they knew? 

What about friends, neighbors, etc.?  I felt such anger toward my parents for letting this
happen.  What now?   I know, in my head, that I am not responsible for what happened, however, my emotions still rise up and say shame.  I still get choked up when I think of this happening in my life.
Mom and dad have passed on and gone to be with the Lord.   Before Mom went on I received a phone call from my aunt, momís sister.  ďYour mother is hallucinating about a fire,Ē she said.  Talk to her and try to calm
her down.  I got on the phone and she was reliving the fire just the way I saw it.  She saw the men in the
black suits dancing and looking at her.  I told her to plead the blood of Jesus and bind those demons.  She
did and was OK for awhile.  Then it would happen the next day and I would go through the same procedure.
Each time it helped my mom and confirmed to me that my memories were real.

I had the privilege of leading both of my parents to the Lord before they passed on.  I canít wait to meet them in glory knowing that the people whom God created them to be are waiting for me.  I look forward to a relationship with joy instead of sorrow, freedom from abuse, and enjoying everything God has for us up there.  I know my parents must be awesome people. Yes, Iíve forgiven them.  Will I ever forget?  No, I donít think so.  Forgiving means giving up my right for revenge and giving it to the Lord.  It doesnít mean nothing really happened or, thereís no responsibility on the part of the abuser.  It means loving the person and not the sin.  It means wanting everything God has for that person to come to fullness in his life.  It means the beginning of healing my life and the beginning of fulfilling Godís call in my life.

 My prayer is that everyone who reads this will find hope and be able to believe for a light at the end of the tunnel.  There is hope and healing in Jesus.  Itís not a quick fix, usually. But itís worth letting God do the surgery Heíll take out that infested wounded area of your heart and pour out His oil of gladness.  It is worth trusting Jesus.


Val

 

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