Abiding in the Hands of a Merciful God

A guest post by Bill McPherson …

CHAPTER ONE

I recently experienced a horrendous fall off a cliff. I live on the side of a mountain which has a pitch of about 45 degrees (no exaggeration). A construction project 2 years ago included construction of a concrete retaining wall 12 feet from the house capped with a concrete patio (with a deck 20’ above). The drop from the patio to the ground is roughly six feet. You see it coming, don’t you? Don’t get ahead. Listen.

I am currently constructing a roof over the patio and I just brought in a pile of 2x8s and 15 sheets of ½” OSB board to put on the roof. The 750 pounds of OSB was leaning up against a 6×6 column about 5 feet from the edge of the precipice. I was trying to get a tarp over the OSB as rain was coming and that is where the tragedy begins.

I am sure that the initiation of the following events is when the angels got to work. They were already at the scene because my wife prayed that morning for God to send angels to protect me for the day. I was going to need them. I had to exert at least 100 pounds to pull the stack of OSB away from the column. A phenomenon occurred at that time that I had not previously encountered so it caught me off guard, and the impending danger it was bringing advanced upon me before I could react and avoid the catastrophe. An engineering explanation of the phenomena is at the end. I won’t bore the non-technical minds with the details here. Once the sheets were standing up, they mysteriously and suddenly expanded towards me. I immediately knew to get out of the way and let ’em go.

I could not move fast enough. I was already in the grasp of the falling sheets and could not escape. The next 0.7 seconds went by with lightning speed. The falling 750 pounds of wood hurled me from the precipice with no regard to my frailty. I do not remember a lot of the journey to the bottom. I must have blinked. I do remember the sound of a metal chair getting in the mix and being thrown down the hill. And I saw an upside-down view of the wild azalea tree go by so quickly and then the inevitable thud.

I see so clearly that God or his angels were guiding me. I was a guided missile in their hands, angle of attack and yaw being adjusted ever so slightly. An observer would never notice their skills. I went headfirst. There was a violent jolt in my body accompanied by strange sounds as my shoulder began to compress. I distinctly heard a bell. Probably the nerves in my neck and spine all joining in together to sing the Ouch song. I heard crunching glass (one lens from my glasses was missing), and for a nano-second I thought of passing out. But I did not.

I don’t know if this is common, but at this point I gave into a bit of fear and hysteria. I assumed I was in store for the worst. Multiple bones would be broken (including my back) and I would be bleeding profusely. So I began moaning loud enough for Susan to hear, not screaming because that would be overkill, because after all, I was alive and sitting up surveying my body.

One shoe was missing, one lens missing. My vision was all messed up because my glasses were sitting cockeyed at the end of my nose and one lens was gone. I was hurting. Susan came to the rescue and a measure of calm came to me.

I cleaned up, went to the hospital, sore as heck, but alive.

CHAPTER TWO

I am 70 years old. I was traveling at a speed of 19.65 feet per second at the end of my 0.7 second flight (sorry, I am an engineer you know). Imagine going from the goal line to the 7-yard line each second, and then ramming into an immovable wall. Yeah, thud. By all rights, I should have had broken bones, bones out of joint, possibly concussion. I escaped with sore. The ground was sloping away at 45 degrees to my advantage. I landed in a wet pile of ashes. My shoulder hit first. My head just bent out of the way. I kind of skidded to a stop. Good job angels.

All my bones were in place and unbroken. My flesh was not ripped open. I had a few little blood trickles which stopped almost immediately.

Yes, I was in the hands of a merciful God. He saw the OSB coming. He was with me going over the edge. He was viewing the wild azalea tree upside down with me on the way down. “Hang on Bill. This will hurt, but I will not leave you.” He spread out a cushion of soft wet ashes to ease the impact. He was with me every nano-second of the trip. I am sure the devil was gloating over my suffering, but God turned it into an opportunity to praise Him for His faithfulness. And this is what I do. I am in awe of His great love for me.

FOR THE ENGINEERS

I learned something about plywood through this experience. All sheet goods have some waviness. I stacked the 50-pound sheets in a vertical position leaning on a post at about an 80-degree angle. I used a Gator Grip to move the sheets into place and I scooted the bottoms tight together as I set each one into place. The horizontal component of the weight of the sheets (750*cos80°) seemed to be enough to compress the waviness out. I pulled the 15 sheets away from the post to get a tarp behind them. The bottoms of the sheets were still tight together like the binding of a book. In the upright position, the sheets lost their horizontal weight component and waviness took over to make the stack bloom out like a flower. Awesome.

Beware of large blooming petals, they will throw you off the deck.

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Cindy’s Story

A guest post by Cindy Caldwell …

I was the firstborn in my family of four children. My parents believed in God. My mother grew up going to a Baptist church. I am not sure if my dad went to church growing up. When I was a small child, they took us to a Baptist church where we heard about Jesus. God was not talked about in the home, and I don’t remember my parents praying with me or reading the Bible. The mindset in those days seemed to be that spiritual teaching came from the church. It was more of something you believed with your mind, rather than a personal relationship with God.

As a 12-year-old, I responded to an altar call during a Sunday service. I walked to the front, shook the pastor’s hand, and filled out some information. After that, I was baptized, but no one taught me how to read my Bible and pray, or how to have a relationship with God. I believed in God, so I always prayed in times of trouble or when I was afraid.

At age 14, I went forward again at the end of a church service to “rededicate my life to Christ,” determined that I wanted to be “good.” Again, no one taught me or helped me grow as a Christian. My own efforts were not enough to keep me from the temptations I would face as a teenager, temptations to drink and get into relationships with boys. There was nothing to keep me from following those sinful desires.

There was also a void in my heart because my parents did not raise me with physical affection. Not being raised with affection themselves, they did not know how to show it. My dad also went through a few years of being an alcoholic, which created a lot of stress and problems in the family. There were times of anger and rage that caused me to be very afraid as a young child. His own mother had a strong temper and would rage, so he learned a pattern of behavior from her. The lashings with a belt were very painful and scary.

It wasn’t until adulthood that I realized how those early childhood traumas wounded me and formed my view of God. Our view of God can be affected by the example of our earthly dad and how he treated us. Because love and affection were lacking at home, I was more susceptible to boys giving me affection which led to sexual sins. I also began to drink, and in the 11th grade began to smoke pot. By the end of my senior year, I was smoking pot almost daily. Getting high and listening to music were my escape from reality.

My cousin Susan had gotten saved and would come to visit me and talk to me about Jesus. I would cry and tell her that I knew I needed to give my life to Him, but I didn’t have any Christian friends. At that time I wasn’t willing to leave all of my partying friends and be alone – or what I thought would be alone.

Shortly after high school graduation, there was a Crusade for Christ on a baseball field in Cantonment. It happened to be right down the street from my boyfriend’s house, where I would hang out. One afternoon a guy I knew in high school that had gotten saved came to my boyfriend’s house. He asked us to go to the meeting that night. We both went – surprisingly! I remember the evangelist preached about hell from the Bible. I left that night with an awareness that I was going to hell, if I did not give my life to Jesus. I was determined to go back the next night.

I don’t remember anything the preacher said that second night. I just couldn’t wait for the end of the service, so I could go forward and give my life to Jesus. When that time came, I hurried forward and a girl (Kathy Davis) prayed with me, as we went down on our knees on that baseball field. I cried and surrendered my life to Jesus. My boyfriend went forward also, but the commitment did not last with him.

On my way home, I threw my cigarettes out of the car window. I stopped drinking and smoking pot. I had fallen in love with Jesus, and He gave me a peace that nothing in the world can give. After that, I tried going to a couple of parties to witness to my friends, but they were not interested. I began going to a small home church that had a group of teens and young adults. I left all my old friends and was often alone, except for going to church.

The crusade meeting where I gave my life to the Lord was in July of 1972. I was to leave for college in August – only a few weeks away. My parents had already paid my tuition at Florida State University, and I did not know that I should pray about going. The co-ed dorm was a party atmosphere. Although I went to a couple of prayer meetings at someone’s home, and tried to tell people I met in the dorm that I was a “Jesus freak” now, I had no strength to stand against temptation. I backslid for about four weeks, and then called my pastor’s wife at the little home church in Pensacola. She said it would be best for me to come back home. I called my parents, and they were gracious in letting me come home after they had paid all of that money.

In Pensacola I enrolled in Liberty Bible College, a small Bible college that helped me get grounded in my faith. At night, I would just lie on my waterbed and read the Word, and I had to memorize a lot of scriptures to pass the tests. The teachers were like pastors, very loving and kind as they taught the Bible to me. I loved going to classes there. It was a wonderful time of growth. I had traded the addictions of drugs and alcohol for a relationship with Jesus that brought true peace and purpose for my life. I never went back to those addictions – God truly set me free. When my parents saw the dramatic change in my life, they began to desire a closer walk with God. Within a year after I got saved, they began visiting the church I was attending.

Now, on to my story of emotional healing. The year after I got saved, I started dating Mike. We were going to the same home church, and he was also taking classes at Liberty Bible College. We dated less than a year, and then got married. Our life was centered around our little church – going to meetings on Sunday mornings and evenings, Wednesday evenings, and Bible Study on Friday evenings. We had a genuine relationship with the Lord and were nurtured in our faith at that church.

We had our first child, Amy, after we were married three-and-a-half years. When Amy was five, we moved to Ocala, Florida, where we started a small church that met in our home. It was a branch off of the church in Pensacola. Eight years later, we had our second child, Michael. A few years later we hit a rough spot in our marriage. We got some counseling from an older couple that helped us immensely.

Our third child, Emily, arrived eight years after Michael. A year after Emily was born, we moved back to Pensacola. After we attended Liberty Church for about two years, the Brownsville Revival broke out, and we went there for about 10 years. The years of revival were an awesome time, but after about three years I had a panic attack on Christmas Day and ended up in the hospital for a week. I went into a deep depression for three years, and was on and off medications, trying to find one to help.

During that time, I went to counseling with Barbara Stephens, who taught classes on emotional healing. In my first class, she taught on the wounding that can happen when we don’t receive affection from our earthly father. I began to cry and could not stop. God revealed to me that day why I had such a deep root of insecurity in my life.

My doctor, who put me on an anti-depressant, required me to go to counseling once a week. Those two years of counseling were really a godsend, because the Lord had connected me with Barbara, who had a ministry of emotional healing. It was a long road, with many helps along the way. Another help was Joyce Meyer’s book, Beauty for Ashes, and her teachings on emotional healing.

During the three years I battled depression, my dad began hugging me. One day he came over to my house, and gave me a big bear hug and said, “There! Now you can take that to the bank!” He also told me how bad he felt for some of the ways he took out his frustrations and anger on me. He told me he was sorry.

I still struggled with fear, worry, and insecurity until I went to a retreat last April (2019) in Georgia. They taught on emotional healing, and I had prayer ministry every day for one week. It was a very intense week, but God did a lot of healing and showed me the roots of my fears. I saw how my view of God was formed very early through trauma and some abuse. To be clear, I was not sexually abused. As I worked through these issues, and forgave my parents, myself, and God, I have come to a much deeper peace, and I am not struggling with worry and insecurity now.

For all those years, I was a Christian and loved God. I tried really hard to do everything “right.” I homeschooled my children, and I do believe God led me to do that. So why was I insecure, fearful, negative, and moody? Because of my emotional wounds, situations could trigger insecurity and worry, and I seemed powerless to overcome those emotions. I had to have those wounds healed.

I think most Christians have some wounds from childhood (or wounding as an adult) that need healing. Sometimes we hit a rough spot or something will trigger those wounds. When there is an emotional response (anger, depression, fear, etc.) that seems out of the ordinary or over the top, many times it is a reaction to the wounding. God can use those times to get our attention to seek Him, and He can reveal the root and lead us to emotional healing.

Now that God has healed a lot of these wounds, I have a truer sense that God really loves me, and I am not against myself. When we are against ourselves, or down on ourselves, we lack peace. We are always striving to please God, and this showed up in me with performance and trying to be perfect. I now can have a relationship with God from a place of rest. I am still in process, and I think we will always be while on this earth, but I have much more peace and freedom. God has connected me to a community of people, through Transformations, that He is using to help me grow and continue to heal. Having a support group is so important. We are not meant to do life alone.

I am thankful there is no wound too deep, no trauma too bad that God cannot heal. Jesus came to heal the broken-hearted and set the captives free.

*****

Cindy Caldwell lives with her husband of 46 years in Pensacola, Florida. They have 3 married children and 4 grandchildren. She enjoys spending unhurried time with the Lord, reading spiritual growth books, and having conversations of the heart with a friend. She also loves growing flowers, dancing, and playing with her grandchildren.

Inner Healing Testimony

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Restoring Ground

A guest post by Janet Eriksson …

Years ago out of fear, confusion, and lack of wisdom, I made decisions that still have a profound effect on my life. I allowed myself to be a doormat, and the enemy took advantage. I’m still living with the consequences.

I’ve been through a lot of healing, repentance, forgiveness. I started on a journey to walk free of fear, and while I’m still in progress, I’ve come a long way. I have less fear, more wisdom, and I’m discovering that I don’t need to be a doormat. That’s not my true identity. It’s not who God created me to be.

But what about those consequences. Would I ever get free of those? Do I get a year of jubilee?

While my head keeps telling me things are getting better, my heart reflects the lies I still believe. That’s why I love doing prayer ministry  in a community of like-hearted people who can help me recognize and break free of old lies.

Today a friend did prayer ministry with me. I never could have imagined where God would take it.

I lamented that I can’t seem to break free of consequences of key decisions I made years ago when I behaved like a doormat. How I wish I could go back and change things, but I cannot. So how do I move forward?

Inner healing testimony
Photo by Chris Montgomery at Unsplash

In this prayer ministry session, I shared my heart, saying I know in my head that God is a good father and provider, but why do I feel like I’m still being punished for the mistakes I made? When will that end?

The Lord brought to my heart a memory of sixth grade. Our class was hoping for a field trip to Venetian Pools (Miami natives will know what I mean). We had to earn tickets for good behavior in the cafeteria, and we were on our last chance to get that field trip.

The Lord reminded me how the class lost our last ticket for bad behavior, but our teacher fought for us and got the longed-for ticket. We had our wonderful day at Venetian Pools.

The connection was clear: If a human teacher would fight for kids who honestly didn’t deserve the field trip, how much more would God fight for restoration for His daughter, even though I earned my consequences by being a doormat? He has not forgotten me. He has heard my repentance. He is moving mountains for me. Just because I can’t see those mountains doesn’t mean they aren’t moving.

During our prayer time, I also recognized that the enemy took advantage of my being a doormat, and he stole so much from me. Granted, I allowed it to be stolen. I didn’t stand up for myself, and I allowed the ground to be taken out from under me. But the enemy took advantage, and he knew what he was doing. His goal is to kill, steal, and destroy, and he certainly did.

Worst of all, in my fear and passivity, I lay down as a bridge and let the enemy trample not only me, but also move into the circumstances and affect other people. I did nobody any favors by my lack of confrontation and standing in truth.

After repentance, I asked God how to move forward from here. He brought to mind a message He had given me more than 10 years ago, called “Just Stand.” I had saved it on my blog, so I read it again. Amazing how God can give you a message that will speak directly to you 10 years later. The friend who was praying with me kept saying, “Wow” at how closely the message spoke to me today.

I felt like God was showing me to take back the ground that was stolen by standing firmly in faith on that ground … as if it were already there. And watch how God redeems and restores.

Inner healing testimony
Photo by Ronaldo de Oliveira at Unsplash

Through this revelation, God changed my perspective on every part of my life today. Where I get frustrated and discouraged, where I feel futile because of what’s been lost, given away, or stolen, God would have me see instead how every action that’s focused on Him is retaking ground.

Even small actions where I get frustrated because they are so limited, God showed me how in the spirit realm every small action is retaking massive ground for His purposes in my life.

This changes how I look at everything. If I choose to stand in faith, my daily life isn’t futile. I’m not lost or penalized by the past. I’m standing on the ground God is restoring right under my feet. As I claim that ground in faith, He is moving mountains that affect not only me but others as well.

Where the enemy has lied to me each day, telling me I missed it and I’m up a creek, God tells me He is building solid ground under me and I get to participate by faith. I can’t wait to walk this out and see how different my heart will feel, and what God will do with those changes, now that I’ve realigned my heart with His truth.

Do not believe the lies the enemy tells you, no matter how real or logical they seem. Let God speak His truth to your heart and tell you how He is moving mountains for you and restoring your true identity. If you need help (we all do) recognizing lies and coming into truth, Transformations offers prayer ministry sessions like the one I had today that can help you discover and step into your true identity in Christ.

*****

Janet Eriksson is a prayer minister, writer, editor, and teacher in Dahlonega, Georgia. She loves conversation with friends, front porch swings, sweet tea, and spending time on lakes and rivers. The author of nine books and editor of many more, Janet blogs and teaches online at https://adventureswithgod.blog/.

Christian inner healing

 

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Fragrance Restored by God

Inner Healing Testimony

A guest post by Karen Castleberry …

The unhealed parts of our hearts do affect people around us. I didn’t really believe that statement fully until this past spring when a potential tragedy occurred at my workplace. I am an administrative assistant at a school with 400 students and 60 employees.

The bell rang to start the school day when a teacher rushed up to the front desk and said with alarm, “I smell gas, do you?” The receptionist called the Principals to the area who smelled gas too, so they immediately evacuated the building. A gas leak was discovered in the pipes in the ceiling of our building. Due to a teacher’s sense of smell a tragedy was averted. That day helped me to realize the importance of being able to smell.

I had lost my sense of smell 24 years ago during the birth of my son. Or so I had thought.

Shortly after the gas leak occurred, I sent a picture of mountain laurels beside a beautiful mountain stream to a friend who is moving to the area from California. She asked what they smelled like. I told her I didn’t know because I can’t smell anything. She asked if I would like to have a prayer ministry session and ask the Lord what is the root cause of me not being able to smell. Realizing how important smell can be, I said yes.

We belong to a community of Christians called The Journey. In our daily walk through life, one of the aspects of our group is to come alongside of each other to help heal the wounded places of our hearts. I thought my lost sense of smell was a physical problem, so it didn’t occur to me to ask the Lord for the root of it.

It is always amazing to be able to come before the Lord in a safe place with a Christian friend to navigate back to the root of a problem. During this session the Lord revealed to me the root of why I couldn’t smell.

During my pregnancy my sense of smell was very keen. So much so that it became alarming. I could smell everything, and it was causing my nausea to escalate into vomiting beyond the first trimester. I became scared for the health of my unborn son when this continued.

In my prayer ministry session, God revealed I had made a judgment in my heart during my pregnancy. I judged my sense of smell was causing me to throw up and put my son in danger. I made a vow that resulted in my body turning off my sense of smell. During prayer ministry, I renounced, repented, and asked the Lord for forgiveness.

Shortly after God had revealed the root cause of my inability to smell, my niece invited me to go to the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. We passed by a section in the garden of plants that have beautiful aromas. Knowing the story of God restoring my sense of smell, she asked if I had smelled any of the flowers. Bending over a Rosemary plant, much to my delight I breathed in its beautiful aroma.

My sense of smell was returning, but I was puzzled. In telling another friend in our tribe about God restoring my sense of smell, I wondered why it didn’t return all at once. She smiled and said, “It would be overwhelming to suddenly smell when for so long you couldn’t.” My friend continued, “God is so kind to restore you gently.”

*****

Karen Castleberry is a Missionary of Prayer. She lives with her husband, Gary, and 2 dogs, in a little cottage nestled in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains of North Georgia. Their son, Jeremiah, lives and works nearby. Karen loves reading, writing, photography, knitting, and all things creative. Her greatest joy in life is spending time with Jesus, her family and friends.

Christian inner healing

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What I Wish I Had Known about Yoga

A guest post by Susan McPherson …

Several years ago my head began shaking. When I would look down to read something, it was more pronounced. My children, family, and friends gradually began commenting, so it was getting more noticeable.

I went to a prayer ministry session during this time, and the minister saw a snake (spiritually) circling up my spine. The prayer minister knew that yoga could cause this, resulting in nervous system disorders and worse. I had been doing yoga for about two years. My situation had only gotten to head shaking. I repented of it (never to do yoga again!) and closed doors, and my head stopped shaking. So that’s how I know firsthand how dangerous this is.

I did another kundalini renunciation (the occult spirit behind yoga) recently with a group at a retreat on behalf of my family – my generations. My cousin was there at the retreat and did the renunciation also for herself and her family. My cousin and I had the opportunity to stand together in repentance and prayer for our generational line.

You may be asking, “What about Christian yoga?” During the two years I was doing yoga, I thought I was covered by praying to Jesus while the instructor and others in the class would do meditation. I thought as long as I focused on Jesus and prayed and meditated on Him, there should not be any problem.

What I didn’t realize was that the yoga poses aligned me with the kundalini (occult) spirit. I was doing the yoga, loving it, and thought I was getting good benefits from it. I didn’t realize doing yoga was the whole reason my head was shaking. It was greatly affecting my neurological system, and I believe it would have gotten worse.

I just wanted to share about this so you could know the dangers of yoga and that it cannot be Christianized.

*****

Susan McPherson is a mother of seven and blessed with many beautiful grandchildren. After raising her children on a farm, she and her husband have moved to the mountains, where they are enjoying rest.

Inner Healing Testimony

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My Testimony about Freemasonry and How It Affected My Life

A guest post by Susan McPherson …

I was born into an upper middle class home, never lacking for anything materially, and yet lacking in spiritual freedom. I felt like I always had a dark cloud over my head growing up as a child. I was probably not depressed but just kind of sad and empty, no joy. And yet, I had all of my physical needs met.

As a teenager I sometimes felt I was going crazy. Not knowing what that was or how to cope with it I just lived with it. I didn’t have much relationship with my two younger brothers, the older being very social and comfortable in crowds and my younger brother being rather shy and socially uncomfortable.

At 15 I went to a youth camp with my church. The Holy Spirit showed up and many were saved and their lives changed. I had received Christ at a young age, but this was the moment I felt He called me out to be His and live for Him, and I did. So began my journey with Jesus, looking to Him to guide me in decisions and choosing to follow Him. I had been brought up in the church so my decision was well received in my family. And, actually, my parents were greatly affected by my new life. As a teenager, I received the baptism in the Holy Spirit, and healing (God grew one of my legs out as it was shorter than the other one), and deliverance. Lots of things were happening in the spiritual realm in the early 70s.

I received a measure of healing in my mind as I sought Him. 2 Timothy 1:7 became very real to me: “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind” (NKJV).

Depression and mental illness seemed to run in our family on my mother’s side. My aunt was depressed, my cousin was having mental problems, my younger brother developed mental problems characterized by hearing voices especially about the end times. I bet my mother was depressed – she didn’t seem very joyful or glad about life.

Thankfully, as I looked to God, He directed my steps and led me to Atlanta, out of college, to be with a Spirit-filled church. I had much growth in a great spiritual family.

I met my first husband in the church. God showed us we were to be married, so we were, and seven years later had our first baby. While he was in the womb, I was attacked one night and something was on me trying to suffocate me. We woke up and did much spiritual warfare thinking this was an attempt from the enemy on my baby’s life. But why was this happening? How did the enemy even have access to come in and do that?

Baby boy was born. Six months later we (my husband, baby, and I) were at the beach with many of our church family members, including our pastor. My husband took off to the beach, got in the water, and was taken out by a riptide and undertow and drowned. Devastation hit my life. I had never had any tragedies in my life. Yes, some of my grandparents had died but that was all. How did this happen, God? How could this have happened!

Thankfully, I had a close walk with Jesus and lots of support from my church family and my natural family. God saw me through this dark time, with me not knowing which way was up some days, and left with a six-month-old to care for by myself.

Fast forward, I met another man in my church and we became engaged and married. Before we were married we had a prayer time together that was very powerful. God showed my future husband that the enemy was trying to get to my baby – it was actually the hand of death. So we did warfare to cancel the assignment over my baby. But again, why was this happening?

To catch up on my family: My cousin who had the mental issues committed suicide, and my younger brother ended up in a mental hospital for a while and had other visits there in the years ahead. I was tormented by fear frequently, my aunt was still suffering with depression, and another cousin was having tormenting issues too, resulting in not being able to sleep.

As my son grew older and I had more children, they were all growing and at different stages. I had been raising them in the Lord, in prayer, in the church (a Spirit-filled church), even home-schooling them. But my husband and I began noticing history repeating itself. As I was sharing with a woman of God one day of some of my struggles, she said (out of the blue), “Do you have Freemasonry in your background?” I said, no, not that I know of. Several weeks or months later I found a picture of my grandfather with a Shriner’s hat on! That’s a high order of Masons. So I began to look into the “fruit” of Freemasonry: premature death, depression, mental illness, suicide, among some of them – which were common in my family on my mother’s side.

Fast forward to when I became the power of attorney for my mother-in-law (from my first husband) and was looking through her papers that I saw her husband was a Mason. He died prematurely, both of his sons died prematurely (one being my husband), and now the enemy was after my baby – now a teenager. So my son was getting it from both sides: father (his grandfather on his biological father’s side) and his great-grandfather on his mother’s side.

So what does this involvement in Freemasonry do? It opens doors for the enemy to have legal rights to torment, which can cause family members to kill themselves and/or the enemy to kill them when the person who was in Freemasonry either pulls out or the descendants don’t carry it on.

Because of all the fruit in my family, and especially in my immediate family with my son’s life being threatened by the enemy, I began to search out how to close doors. It’s not an easy fix. It’s a huge issue and not to be taken lightly.

I was led to some very experienced counselors/prayer ministers who taught me how to repent on behalf of my grandfather and father-in-law (my ancestors) and do a very thorough renunciation. This prayer also included closing doors to the enemy, so that present and future generations don’t have to suffer the torment of depression, mental illness, suicide, and premature death. This renunciation had to be done corporately since the oaths were made corporately. One of the first of many oaths they (the Masons) take is to be hoodwinked, which means “deceived.” So from that point on, all is deception. That’s why this can be so hard to pinpoint.

The first renunciation was done with a group of people, all corporately, in unison, speaking and reading the 11-page “Prayer of Freemasonry Renouncement.” I have done it many times since that first time. I’ve heard it said that one should do it as many times as their ancestor was involved. For example, 18th degree – 18 times; 32nd degree – 32 times. I still do this renunciation corporately every time I have the opportunity. This prayer of renunciation has tremendous spiritual impact, and things just change on behalf of your children and ultimately your generations.

For example, I was able to see how my renunciation prayer affected my son – the son I referred to earlier who was attacked in the womb and had freemasonry on both sides of the family line. He returned safely from two active war zone deployments. During one of those deployments, he was rescued several times from extreme near death encounters. He experienced God’s hand of intervention in those situations. So it was evident that those curses against my son were not in place anymore.

Also, my cousin I referred to who was tormented in the night and couldn’t sleep, she is no longer tormented and is sleeping better. I feel that the renunciation prayer also contributed to her freedom in this area.

If you have any fruit of Freemasonry or know of ancestors in your family that were Masons, seek out help with this. Warning: you cannot do this on your own. Transformations can put you in touch with those who can do this with you in a well-covered (by intercessors), safe place. This “Prayer of Freemasonry Renouncement” has done amazing things in my family. The doors have been shut to the enemy – the tormentor – not only for me but also for all my children.

Thank You, God, for leading my family and me on this journey to freedom from torment. I hope and pray others that have Freemasonry in their generations can identify this in their life and get the freedom that Jesus paid for.

*****

Susan McPherson is a mother of seven and blessed with many beautiful grandchildren. After raising her children on a farm, she and her husband have moved to the mountains, where they are enjoying rest.

Inner Healing Testimony

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How Jesus Healed a Long-Hidden Fear

A guest post by Janet Eriksson …

After nine years in seminary, the big day had come. I was graduating! I should have been excited, and I was. After all the hard work, I could finally celebrate and enjoy the moment.

But as I made my way toward Orlando, Florida for my graduation, I felt something stronger than excitement. It was fear.

Fear? Seriously? What in the world did I have to be afraid of? I had done the hard work already. Successfully completed 96 credit hours of papers and exams. Shown up for classes on campus in Florida and Kentucky, exhausted and disoriented, after driving for hours to and from my home in Georgia.

What was left to be afraid of?

After some reflection, I was able to identify my fear. I was afraid of showing up at the graduation ceremony and not knowing what to do.

Seriously? I’m 53 years old. I’ve traveled all over the world into stranger situations. What in the world?

“I’m pretty sure they will tell you what to do,” said my friend who accompanied me on the trip. “That’s why you’re having rehearsal that morning.”

But as Orlando loomed closer, this knot of fear began to grow. I wanted to enjoy this weekend. Not only was it my graduation celebration. It was also a visit to one of my old home towns of Orlando where I don’t get to visit much anymore. One of my friends had surprised me with a day at Animal Kingdom as well. Surely I could set aside this fear and just enjoy my time.

Inner healing prayer

I tried to do exactly that. I was determined: I will enjoy this weekend. I will not be afraid. And I did have a great time at Animal Kingdom. But whenever the thought of the next day’s events crept into my mind, the knot of fear increased. By the eve of my graduation ceremony, that fear had reached unreasonable proportions.

All along, I had been asking God to help me and was wanting just to trust Him. I kept reminding myself, “God will be with you. What do you have to be afraid of?” But the fear kept growing stronger. Why did it have such a hold of me?

“Why won’t they tell us what to expect?” I kept asking my friend. “Why can’t they send us instructions for the ceremony, so we will be ready?” As if a bunch of graduating students wanted yet another set of instructions to study.

“I’m sure they will tell you at rehearsal,” my friend kept saying.

Finally about 10 pm the night before the ceremony, as the fear began morphing into terror, I asked God what I should have asked all along: “What is going on that makes me so afraid?”

Immediately He showed me. He brought to mind a scene from when I was four years old. I was graduating from nursery school, and I was the “valedictorian.” My teacher asked me to give a speech at graduation, a speech that I wrote myself and rehearsed until I had it memorized.

I was so short that I looked even younger than my four years. My head could barely be seen over the podium. But I wasn’t afraid to address the audience. I have always loved public speaking, even way back then, even as a shy kid. Put me in a room of people I don’t know and ask me to mingle, and I shut down. Put me in front of a crowd and ask me to speak, no problem. I love it and always did.

“Lord, what does that nursery school graduation have to do with my graduation from seminary? I already know I wasn’t afraid to give that speech when I was little. And I’m not even speaking at this graduation.”

As I pressed further in prayer, the Lord brought something to mind that I had not thought of in close to 50 years. I had been afraid at that little nursery school graduation, but it wasn’t the speech that caused my fear. It was my teacher. She never prepped me on what to do logistically – when to stand up, when to approach the podium.

I had tried to ask her for the details. It’s the way I am wired. I have to know how to map things out. I can’t just “show up.” I need some idea of what to expect. Neither my teacher nor my mom seemed to understand that about me.

My teacher kept saying, “Don’t worry. I will cue you.” For a little kid on stage, what does that mean? What’s a cue? Will I know it when I see it? What if I miss it? Is there a backup plan?

As adults, we can look at this situation and realize it’s no big deal. But put yourself in the mind of a four-year-old kid. Everything is riding on this cue, and you don’t even know what a cue is.

All my mom told me was, “Just follow your teacher.”

Great. So I couldn’t even enjoy my nursery school graduation ceremony. Because my eyes were glued to my teacher.

And the stress. Oh my goodness, the stress. My heart pounded every time my teacher made a move. I couldn’t hear her or see her half the time. Why are my fellow students so squirmy? Why won’t they be quiet and hold still? Don’t they know everything is riding on me not missing the cue?

Inner healing from fear
Nursery school graduation 1970. I’m the tiny one in the middle.

Everything I felt in that moment at four years old had been stored away in my heart as a big bundle of fear. It had never been dealt with or resolved. It just got pushed way down into my heart. When my seminary graduation day approached, that door in my heart was unlatched. All of that four-year-old fear rose to the surface.

“Lord Jesus, show me where You were on graduation day when I was four.”

He was right there, kneeling beside me, holding my hand. And smiling the proudest smile I have ever seen.

“I’ll show you what to do,” He said. “And we will go up there together.”

Immediately my entire being was filled with calm and peace. I could breathe. My heart stopped racing and settled into a calm rhythm. I was holding Jesus’ hand. With His big strong hand wrapped around mine, there was no way I could miss my cue. All I had to do was let Him lead me up there to the podium. When I got up to speak, He stood there with me the entire time. Then He led me back to my seat when the speech was over. I didn’t miss a beat because He had my hand in His. And He knew what to do.

Which is exactly how it happened. Because that little nursery school speech in Miami, Florida in 1970 had gone off without a hitch. Jesus had been there with me all along. And now that I knew He was there, and I believed He was more than able to care for me, I could let go of fear.

And just like that, all the fear was gone. Deep breath. Exhale.

“Thank You, Jesus.”

With the help of my friend, I was able to pray through repentance for fear and lack of trust. I was able to forgive my teacher and my mom for not sensing that I needed more help with instructions. Back to the present moment, I was able to forgive the seminary for not telling us much ahead of time. I was able to tell God, “I trust You for the ceremony tomorrow. I just want to enjoy it with You.” And I meant it with my whole peaceful heart.

I was able to sleep well. I woke up refreshed and excited for the day.

When I got to the graduation site, I finally understood the lack of advance instructions. The ceremony was so complicated they could never have explained it ahead of time. If they had tried, no one would have shown up!

But it was so well-planned and implemented. We had lots of leaders guiding us at each stage, numerous prompts and cues, with extra fail-safe measures folded in, and plenty of rehearsal time. I was so impressed by the graduation crew, how well they had planned it out, how diligent they were to triple check that everyone was in the right place at the right time. It was a well-oiled machine.

And Jesus was right there, leading everything and everybody. Smiling, proud as can be of all His kids.

I enjoyed the events of the morning so much. The minute we put on our robes, I was grinning from ear to ear. My excitement was through the roof – as it should have been. I had no worries. And my smile never left my face. It was a day I’m sure I will always remember. And I am so grateful to God for healing my heart from fear so I could enjoy that amazing day with my friends and with Jesus.

*****

Janet Eriksson is a prayer minister, writer, editor, and teacher in Dahlonega, Georgia. She loves conversation with friends, front porch swings, sweet tea, and spending time on lakes and rivers. The author of eight books and editor of many more, Janet blogs and teaches online at https://adventureswithgod.blog/.

Healed of fear

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The Little Secret

Christian inner healing
Photo by Skeeze at Pixabay

A guest post by Karen Castleberry …

Frustration, anguish, and shame permeated my being. How could a seemingly insignificant secret cause such pain?

My nephew moved his family of six across the state line for a new job and a fresh start when illness struck. His wife was taking care of their three little ones at home with health issues. My niece was in the hospital alone. And I couldn’t get there to help. My little secret was exposed. I couldn’t drive on the interstate, or for any distance really, without having a full-blown panic attack.

A coworker tried to comfort me as I sobbed my anguish. She suggested I go to a Christian counselor who is skilled in inner healing. Despite my uncontrollable fear of driving any distance, I was determined to get over this fear. I white-knuckled the 45-minute drive down the interstate to her office. Arriving with numb hands, sweat pouring off of me, and gasping for breath, my journey to inner healing began.

Several months passed, and while I did get a measure of relief, I couldn’t say I was healed. My counselor suggested I take a 12-week course in inner healing and deliverance. My eyes and heart began to open up to God. I cannot remember not knowing about God. I come from a long line of pastors and have been a Christian, I think, since birth. I often envied those that have a distinct before and after testimony, not grasping at the time how blessed I was to grow up in a Christian family.

Over the years my faith in God increased. And a personal relationship with God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit slowly developed as I peeled back the layers of inner healing. Learning that God desires to have a personal relationship and is wanting to be invited into every detail of my life was a revelation and a joy. As I studied the Bible, my relationship with God grew and my fear diminished.

Twelve years after my first counseling session I ran into my counselor. She asked if God ever revealed what was the source and origin of my fear of driving distances. Puzzled, I said, “No, He didn’t, but I am able to drive now because I know He is always with me.”

Curious, I asked God what was the source of my fear. Later that day a teacher was describing her experience at the dentist. It hit me that was the source of my fear.

Growing up I had a filling put in nearly every tooth. The visits to the dentist were dreadful. My father’s well-meaning attempt to lessen the trauma only made it worse. We went to a dentist that used what I called goofy gas to calm us while working on our teeth. I was the only one in my whole family who didn’t love it. It made me feel nervous and out of control. The noise of the drill and the light flashing in my eyes sent me into a panic, crying uncontrollably at the end of each session. I was horrified to learn, not long after my last tooth was filled, that my dentist was found dead, in his office, hooked up to the goofy gas.

The panic I felt in the dentist’s chair was the same panic I felt driving on the highway. The drone of the tires, the sunlight flashing through the trees, and the claustrophobic effect of traffic could trigger those traumatic memories. That combination would bring on a panic attack while driving.

I stomped my foot and demanded to know, “Why, God, didn’t You just tell me back in the beginning of this journey and heal me instantly?”

I felt His loving smile and His gentle eyes rest on me as I heard, “My beloved child, you wouldn’t have pursued Me.”

*****

Karen Castleberry is a Missionary of Prayer. She lives with her husband, Gary, and 2 dogs, in a little cottage nestled in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains of North Georgia. Their son, Jeremiah, lives and works nearby. Karen loves reading, writing, photography, knitting, and all things creative. Her greatest joy in life is spending time with Jesus, her family and friends.

Inner healing testimony

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The Ripple Effects of Little Wounds

Christian inner healing
Photo by Skitterphoto at Pixabay

A guest post by Janet Eriksson …

I am always amazed at how much God desires to remove the smallest of wounds from our hearts. I am equally amazed at how much this freedom from a minor childhood incident can change our lives today.

Throughout my adult life, I have undervalued myself in my working life. I also struggle to charge what I’m worth. A friend (a prayer minister) and I were talking about this one day over lunch. I was looking at a particular client writing opportunity, and I was already disqualifying myself, and certainly not wanting to charge a market rate.

“Why do you always undervalue yourself?” my friend said. “You know you can do the work, and you know what it should pay. Why do you always struggle with this? Have you asked God?”

In fact, I hadn’t asked God. However, I had complained to God a lot about this situation, without listening for His response.

She asked if we could pray together.

“Sure.”

God began to show me the root of this problem that had plagued my adult working life. As He peeled back the layers, I saw several incidents of my early adulthood where I had struggled with the same problem. My friend led me in repentance for undervaluing and disqualifying myself. She also prompted me to forgive those who had taken advantage, and especially to forgive myself for selling myself short.

Finally she said, “Why do you always give your authority away?”

Boy, that bumped up against a deep wound because through tears I said, “If I give it away, no one can take it from me.”

“Where does that come from, Lord?” my friend asked.

God showed me an incident long forgotten. I was 11 years old, just starting 6th grade, and I had been with our Girl Scout troop since Brownies. Our troop leader had told our parents she was going to make sure the new 6th graders would be the patrol leaders for the coming year. My mom told me what to expect.

At our first meeting, the troop leader divided us into patrols and left us to choose our patrol leaders. I guess she thought we older kids would speak up and assert the authority she intended to give us. But I was shy and not assertive. A 5th grader took over the discussion and volunteered herself as the leader. One of the newbies said to her, “I pick you.” The 5th grader looked at me and said, “How about I’ll be the leader, and you’ll be the assistant leader.” It happened so fast. I simply nodded. But I was deeply disappointed, really to the point of shock.

We went to our troop leader to tell her what we had decided. She looked at me funny but didn’t say anything. She was the kind of adult who wanted kids to figure things out for themselves. In hindsight, I realized she had wanted me to stand up and assert my authority. That was something I simply couldn’t have done without help. Later when I told my mom, she asked me why I didn’t speak up. It never occurred to her I was only 11, very shy, and didn’t know how to speak up.

You wouldn’t think such a seemingly minor moment in childhood could have such long-lasting consequences. But the wound I took into my heart that day would affect my entire adult working life until, at age 53, I finally prayed with my friend to invite Jesus into that wound. I forgave my Girl Scout leader, my fellow Girl Scouts, my mom for disappointing and hurting me. I forgave the adults for not teaching me how to be assertive and for not helping me to overcome my shyness.

Christian inner healing
Photo by jeffjacobs1990 at Pixabay

I forgave God for allowing the incident to happen. God didn’t do anything wrong, but sometimes we need to forgive Him to release our own unforgiveness that we hold against Him. My unforgiveness against God had grown over the years. Each time I gave my authority away and saw the results (not getting the jobs I wanted, not earning the income I needed), I blamed Him. My unforgiveness against God was even stronger because the Girl Scout leader who had not spoken up for me was a Catholic nun. So she represented God to me as well.

I also repented for giving away my authority that day and many days (years) since then. I repented for undervaluing myself and underpricing my freelance business contracts. I repented for not standing in the authority God intended me to walk in as His daughter. And I came out of agreement with the lie I formed in my heart that young day: That if I give my authority away, that’s better than someone taking it from me.

The change that followed these prayers was significant. I was able to raise my professional prices, to pursue work opportunities I would have shied away from, and to grow in the confidence that I could do jobs I was well trained for and well experienced in. I stopped disqualifying myself and was able to see clearly, “Yes, I’ve done this job before and done it well. I can certainly do it again.”

God is with us in the big things that come against us. But He is also with us in the little things. And those little things can cause deep pain and have lasting consequences. Often these little roots are invisible to us until we invite Jesus in and ask Him, “Why does this keep happening to me?” The answer is often surprising. A seemingly minor incident can be a big deal for a child, and those roots grow deeper in our hearts, affecting our adult lives many years after the incident was forgotten. But Jesus knows, and He desires to free us and heal us, so we can live the lives He intends for us to live.

Thank You, God, for Your love and for the freedom You desire for us.

*****

Janet Eriksson is a prayer minister, writer, editor, and teacher in Dahlonega, Georgia. She loves conversation with friends, front porch swings, sweet tea, and spending time on lakes and rivers. The author of eight books and editor of many more, Janet blogs and teaches online at https://adventureswithgod.blog/.

Christian inner healing

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Inner Healing Time

A guest post by Lisa Baumgarth …

My life plan was really unleashed at the Transformations retreat. I sat in session after session listening to women and one man being vulnerable, broken, authentic and open to healing.

I was in a session that broke off years of lies, inner vows, and a lifetime of walls that had protected my heart. A group of women repented on behalf of the church for how I had been hurt by the church, and then they washed my feet. Really, who are these women? They are God’s messengers into a broken world where our heartache, disappointment, inner vows, and generational sins keep us stuck when sometimes we have no idea why.

After the retreat, I was free – old patterns were destroyed and my relationship and intimacy with Jesus became the focus of my life. I was empowered, encouraged and wanted nothing more than to speak this truth, love and healing into others’ lives .

We are all broken, we are all trying to find love, peace and hope in this crazy world. This retreat set me on a path that I am walking each day now. Kerri and her team are truly amazing people, and the moment I met her, I thought, Now this is my tribe, and it is and has been these past seven months.

God is still in the miracle-working business, and many of our issues in life can only be healed by digging down deep – getting those roots out. The retreat is the place to do this – I felt loved, honored, safe, valuable and by the end I felt FREEDOM.

 

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