|image courtesy photobucket.com
Proverbs 22:24 Make no friendship with an angry man; and with a furious man thou shalt not go:
My mother was choking and there was nothing I could do!
Screaming and commotion caught my ears, and I jetted into the house from the outside! Arriving in time to see my father holding my diminutive mother against the wall by her throat, her feet dangling, I joined the rest of the kids yelling and pleading,
“Let her down . . . stop it….let go of her . . . please….Daddy don’t hurt her!”
We all screamed and cried at the top of our voices, but he seemed not to notice. His jaw was set, teeth clenched, with eyes revealing the epitome of rage! He pressed in harder toward the wall.
“Need a knife! The kitchen! Can’t leave her!” My thoughts flashed.
I’m not sure what finally broke the trance or caused him to release her, but I remember attacking him with all my might just before he did. I didn’t care for myself and knew there might be retribution later.
Overall, what a horrible, horrible sight for a child to have to see!
My mother had been ill most of my young life and now that I was thirteen, she was exceptionally weak and fragile. Her story was a bit like the woman in the Bible who had suffered treatment at many physicians’ hands, where nothing worked but she only grew worse. My mother had been a guinea pig for the medical community, for sure.
Evidentially, life, as my father had planned, had not gone as he expected. There were always hospital bills, and bills for medications. Four young children and a sick wife needed his care. All of us suffered – not just him, but the smallest thing could activate his fury. He was gone most of the time, but when he was at home, we all walked on eggshells.
His favorite expression was “You worthless kids…” , and then he would go off on some tangent about how we never took care of anything.
Things happen in a household. Things break. Cheap things are just that. Cheap they were, and they fell apart easily, yet we were made to feel like ungrateful dogs.
Trust? I didn’t trust him or anyone else. Although he had his good side and was even loving and kind at times, when irrational behavior struck, it was like a Tsunami. These days, the medical community would classify it as Bi-polar and put him on meds!
Extended family was always a mystery to me. We were kept away from any who tried to intervene and help. In recent years, I became acquainted with an uncle who told stories of their own father’s untamable rage. Apparently his dad practiced tying some of his sons to a chair in their barn and left them there for long stretches of time. Periodically, he’d return to whip on them like a crazy man.
That was my father’s father! Eventually, that man, my grandfather, was crushed by a reaper on his farm – paralyzed – never to regain health or work the farm again. He died younger that necessary and all of his sons did their best to leave the farm.
That generational curse plagued my father. Over the years, the image of my mother held, in a choke-hold against the wall, helpless to deliver herself, has haunted me.
When challenges arose, I would see myself pinned against the wall – helpless and hopeless. What was the point? Although I didn’t understand it at the time, rejection had projected a tap root deep into my heart and was sucking the life out of me!
Inescapably, like a thick, disturbing murkiness, foreboding hovered over me throughout my childhood.
Did I understand oppression or depression? Not at all, but I knew something was amiss.
As a kid, my breathing was always abated and my neck ached. At times, I couldn’t think or concentrate. I remained “on-guard”, always. No wonder it was so hard to trust God!
Yet, when I cried out to Him, He intervened.
Expecting that He was the only ONE who could get to the mess and DO something, I kept throwing myself on His mercy! I didn’t know much, but at least I didn’t run from Him.
Through the years, it has been one-foot-in-front-of-the-other. That’s called “walking”. That’s what we do, walk, and NOT draw back.
There is only ONE cure for the type of junk that the enemy throws our way! It is called Immersion. Immersion in The Word. I chose to jump in and haven’t looked back since. Not all of my siblings were so fortunate, but I can say that they had the same opportunities I did.
My image of hanging helpless in life has now been replaced by that of my Jesus! He hung, nailed and tortured, and died in my behalf. Then – – He rose! Alive, He had conquered sin and the grave.
|image courtesy photobucket.com
There’s a song that says, “Mighty Warrior, dressed for battle…Holy Lord of all is HE! Commander-in-Chief, bring us to attention; lead us into battle to crush the enemy! For he has no authority here in this place – – “
Power, might and dominion are mine because of JESUS!
Because of Him, it is my absolute pleasure to present myself for duty; to tear down the evil strongholds that hold others captive. I delight in doing my part as an intercessor.
Not limited to the prayer realm, intercessors can take to the streets too! As God directs and equips, His children can reach in and pull people out their hellholes. Hallelujah!
If you’re “hanging around helpless,” feet dangling, make an exchange. Do it now!
I John 4:17 defines us. As Jesus Christ is, so are we in this world. You have been empowered and energized. Arise!
And linked to Shanda’s “A Pause on the Path” at: