Painted Faces - the masks people wear

Dancing with my brother...

Late October, after weeks ignoring this plea, I finally listen again:

Now just write!!

     It's been a while, Lord - I'm sorry! This has been such a hard time for me. I have been cut off from Anna as she looks after James after his accident and I myself have had a season of illness and isolation as I tested for Covid-19 – both times negative despite symptoms very similar to that particular virus.

    I am really struggling with depression and trying to trust you, Lord, for breakthrough. Today especially I woke from a traumatic dream and haven't been able to shrug off the mantle of low mood and suicidal thinking.

Only praising Me can do that sometimes!

Ah Lord, I know!

So here I am, having prayed and praised Him aloud and having been told to write.

     Do you ever have those days? When even getting out of bed feels too hard? When even moving feels dangerous in case you act on something you know you shouldn't?  After much argument I hauled myself up and into the shower. Martin and our daughter Miriam had already left for their walk by the time I came downstairs, and I grabbed a coffee and my Bible but struggled to focus on anything but the pain in my heart. I just didn't know what to do with myself and wanted to shut myself away from everyone and give up. Know that feeling?

    Eventually I listened to a U-Tube recording of Ana Werner, prophesying about 2020, then turned to one from Sheila Walsh on the "darkest hour". That spoke to me. I was able to open my Bible and read (again) Psalm 91, which the Lord has impressed on me over the past few days – to claim, proclaim, read and read again, aloud and silently. That's all I've been able to digest from His word, but then He understands that and knows that it needs to seep deep into my soul so that I believe, trust and own it before I can move on.

November 28: Restoring the Foundations seminar day at church today.

    I helped with registrations and selling books. It was a great seminar, lovely to see the couple who had ministered to me last year again. Brought back some hurts and now I'm at home alone, Martin's down tramping in Stewart Island with Miriam and her boyfriend Tim, our younger daughter Zoe's at the beach with friends. I am crying, alone, suicidal, wishing I still had a counsellor or at least someone to talk to. Here, now.

Help me Jesus!

Write

Why?

So I can meet you there

But it's so hopeless Lord! I can't do this!

With Me, you can...

Help me!

I will, but you have to let me in, trust Me.

They hurt me so much and I don't know how to come back from it. I make progress, then seem to go backwards again.

Tell me more. Why does it hurt?

You revealed all those memories. His office was my safe place. They supported me, loved me, adopted me as their sister, believed I could be free, helped me and listened to me. Then. Just. Stopped.

I'm so afraid of putting myself out there and trusting anyone again but my heart and soul cry out in agony to be heard and understood! I'm so afraid of hurting someone else by just being me – and yet I so long to be seen, heard, forgiven, understood, and yet accepted! I've always thought I was dangerous or evil – I must be to make men do what they did to me – and their actions have just reinforced that fear. I feel dirty. Soiled. Unclean. Desperately trying to make it right, be "normal" and "whole". I know I'm getting better at it; it just all bubbles up sometimes.

That's because it's still festering below the surface. You feel unworthy. Unlovable. To blame. But I died for all of that. For you even! Just as you are. You don't have to change; you just need to know that – really know that. And claim it as yours. It feels hard, but actually it's easy. My yolk is not heavy. I am here. Now. Always. Forever. Yours, beloved. I want to use you as you are. Don't accept labels put upon you by others – you are redeemed, loved. You are mine. I am yours. Always. Forever. You will come to me soon. I will wipe away every tear and you will be free. Trust. Me. I will not let you fall by way of suicide because I know your heart. I will not let you be rejected further; you are Mine. I am your protector, your safe place. As no human ever can be. We will walk through the wildflowers together and you will dance.

Psalm 91...

Yes, Psalm 91. Yours in this season. Under my wings I will shelter you, in my arms I will comfort you. Learn to trust my voice. You don't need to ask others to know it's Me. You have been a victim, but you are not living out of a victim spirit. Your mind is clearer than you know. But it is a target for attack. This is a war, and all are under attack. Stand fast. Hold on to Me and I will make your paths straight. I promise you. You will have your answers, you will have peace. This will not last forever. I am with you. I will be with you soon in truth and power.

Do I dissociate lord? Have different personalities?

No, not in the way they think you do.

What then?

You escape, in the only way you know how. To protect others, to protect yourself. You hid away memories too difficult to own. And now, in spite of reliving them, you still doubt them – because you've lost ability to trust even yourself. As a very small girl you learned that being you is dangerous. All the things others seemed to value in you were dangerous. So, you longed to have them but were frightened by them. You wanted to be thought beautiful because that was valued by your parents, but then it brought attention you didn't want or need. You wanted to be clever, top of the class because others saw that in you and it seemed to you to be important for your value to them, but you always doubted your own ability. Because of the parents that raped you and the words they threatened you with, you felt the need to be good, to never do anything wrong – or something bad would happen. This crippled your mind. But you are strong. Stronger than you realise. And there is power in My name – one you sought unflinchingly, never accused, blamed, or doubted. I am proud of you. You could have walked away from your marriage years ago– but you cried out to Me and trusted Me to redeem it. You could have killed yourself, but you valued your relationship with Me too much to risk losing it. And when it was almost too hard not to, you called out to Me, and I sent help.

 I promise to be your comforter. Don't stop writing simply because you think you have nothing to say. That's when I'm at My best! Don't worry about who will see this; I will decide that for you later. We are in this together. And yes, just write what you hear me say, as it comes into your head. You can trust that it's Me. You are learning to hear Me more and to trust that it's Me. I will protect you in this process.

We danced together!

We did...I enjoyed watching your freedom, your joy. You change the subject little one.

It was just so strange, I guess. I asked how you could be my fun big brother, as you told Heather you wanted to be, when you're not here physically and you asked me to dance! So I did. Put on worship music and danced – really danced. And I saw you dancing with me. It was wonderful. I wanted to dance with you forever. I didn't feel self- conscious. I felt abandoned – joyful! Thank you!

That sandwich changed everything.

I know. But they were wrong, not you. It was not because of that that he raped you. Eating it their way would have made no difference to what they did. You were not being naughty. And even if you were, nothing deserved what they did to you. It's the first piece of the jigsaw really; learning that you could hide away that memory made it so much easier to do when you were older, and so much more thoroughly.

Leave it with Me. In time all will be healed. Surrender it to Me. Trust Me. Peace. Be. With. You. Now. And. Always. Rest in Me.

I love You, Jesus!

I know.