"It's so important to deny Daddy is bad and what he did was bad," G said. "Denial is very strong there.
"There is a dynamic conflict present that may have some validity: "Sexual arousal is pleasurable--I don't want it to be pleasurable. I don't want to like it." I like it--I must not like it. There is no resolution to that conflict but to split. Part of the self retained some aspect of purity. Other parts felt dirty and shamed.
"What is God's truth? In real time, Daddy molested others. You weren't the only one. That truth makes it hard to keep denial in place. The little girl needed to process this: I have a safe, loving daddy, I'm a special, beloved daughter--it's hard for her to accept the fact that he's a scoundrel."
"Scoundrel. Yes, he was a scoundrel. That's the word! But if I believe that, I have to give up what he told me about who I am, my identity. When we were in bed, I was special. I pleased him. When we were downstairs in the living room with the rest of the family he often made it clear by frowns, gestures and grunts I didn't please him. If I give up the good identity I am left with being in the way, annoying, a nuisance, an irritation."
"You had his exclusive attention in private but he dismissed you as an annoying interruption in public. He commmunicated to you, I want to be with you. We have a special relationship. We pleasure each other. No one else can please me like you can--whether he believed it or did it deliberately to deceive you."
"He was an anthropologist who studied human behavior. He was in a position to deliberately manipulate a person to achieve a desired result."
"We don't want her to lose her significance as a beloved daughter."
"I shouldn't exist. That's got to be a pretty basic conflict. I need to stop existing and it's too late. I was able to make myself invisible. I'd sneak back upstairs and hide in the closet among the shoes. They'd let me go. They didn't even notice I'd left. They wouldn't seek me. No one would come say, 'We missed you. Are you all right?'"
As I spoke, I saw the same little girl coming down the runway, all grown up. She was still wearing a white dress. This one had a train. She was crowned with roses. With the vision came a knowing: You are still a princess, still loved, whether your father tells you so or not. You are special anyway.
If I understand my notes correctly, the older self beckoned the younger shy self down to join her (as a separate self, I was watching this) and when she did, the older one took her hand. (The thumb of her other hand was in her mouth.)
Then Jesus was there and he was giving the little girl a Teddy bear. He was telling her (I could not hear Him but I knew), "Keep this forever to show I'm a good Daddy." She took her thumb out of her mouth to take the bear. "I'm a Giver, not a taker," He was saying. "I have no expectations." He kept on talking to her and then she talked to Him. I couldn't hear them.
Jesus picked her up. She smiled and snuggled into his shoulder--and as she did, another self burst out, agitated: "Don't trust Him! Don't trust Him!"
The little girl, blissful, paid no attention. Jesus was inviting her to integrate--with her other selves? With Himself?
The new self was distraught. "Don't do it! It's not safe! He's not safe!" And then, "Don't leave me! If you integrate, Jesus will take over my job protecting you--and I don't trust Him!"
The little girl had a protector. That was news to me. Even bigger news: the protector didn't feel safe!
I watched Jesus with the protector, taking her fear away. The protector watched the little one go right into harm's way--into bed with the perpetrator! The little one wasn't scared. She felt fine. She felt pleasure. The protector knew the situation was bad and harmful, a furnace, a lion's den. But the little girl didn't know, didn't have to know it was dangerous!
That was how Jesus had protected her. That's how she was able to come out unscathed.
The protector threw herself on Jesus in relief. He will protect us if it happens again. We're in a scary place NOW--with our church--and He won't let us be hurt. The situation may be fearful but we do not need to be afraid. He was making a distinction. Though we go through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil, because You are with us.
G was telling me, "Let's thank the protector for a noble and difficult job." But I was the protector and I was realizing Jesus and I, both of us, had something in common, had the same goal.
He had been protecting both of the selves--little girl unafraid-though-in-harm's-way-self and self afraid for her and desperate to save her.
Because of Jesus, the little one did not process fear. Part of us (me?) held fear away from her, felt it for her. Jesus protected all of us by allowing dissociation. It--dissociation--was the protective system He provided to keep us sane, to keep us whole.
January 26, 2012 (Part 2)
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Saturday, February 25, 2012
My job
G says I (the one the others call "Walks-on-Water") am a strong-willed, controlled, independent woman. Every week he says things like, "The strongest part of you can get in the way a little." Or, "Because of your strength, you want to be in charge and in control but you make it hard on the others."
Today I told him the little ones were shaking, that they feel unprotected and left behind, vulnerable, without boundaries. But I didn't understand why. The other day I thought they had all flowed from the locker room into Jesus. I'm not in touch with where they are or what they are doing.
This time G didn't just suggest. He gave me clear instruction. "The barriers are thinned. Wherever you go you take them all with you. Pray for them bless them, so even if you're not giving them protection, they'll feel safe, loved and have joy. Weaker joy makes it harder for them to deal with conflicts through synchronization. They need to be themselves, able to express significant life needs.
"Joy is not just a nice emotion. It's a simple way of talking about the deepest experience of a human being. Unconditional joy is people celebrting you, loving to be with you. Eye contact with sparkle. Your joy center is like a pilot light. It turns the flame on and the flame goes back and forth between two people.
"It's not just about physiology. There is a spiritual component. The eyes are the window to the soul. It's a sharing, a bonding--from their brain to ours and back, building each other's joy like electro-magnetic charges from one to the other. Something dynamic happens.
"As you relate to your other identities: 'I like ice cream,' 'I want to swing,' it builds this sense of 'Wow, you really love me--because you did what I requested.' Some parts may feel neglected if too much adult stuff is going on. They feel left out. You have to talk to them, ask how they feel.
"Listen to God. Ask him how to bring balance. Be an anointed, inspired leader of the system and lead the family in the right direction. Take authority, help them, listen to them instead of deciding for them where they are. Don't assume. When they're quiet, are they peaceful and merged? Or terribly afraid and hiding out?
"Discovering and working with the identities is the most significant part of all this."
January 26, 2012 (Part 1)
Today I told him the little ones were shaking, that they feel unprotected and left behind, vulnerable, without boundaries. But I didn't understand why. The other day I thought they had all flowed from the locker room into Jesus. I'm not in touch with where they are or what they are doing.
This time G didn't just suggest. He gave me clear instruction. "The barriers are thinned. Wherever you go you take them all with you. Pray for them bless them, so even if you're not giving them protection, they'll feel safe, loved and have joy. Weaker joy makes it harder for them to deal with conflicts through synchronization. They need to be themselves, able to express significant life needs.
"Joy is not just a nice emotion. It's a simple way of talking about the deepest experience of a human being. Unconditional joy is people celebrting you, loving to be with you. Eye contact with sparkle. Your joy center is like a pilot light. It turns the flame on and the flame goes back and forth between two people.
"It's not just about physiology. There is a spiritual component. The eyes are the window to the soul. It's a sharing, a bonding--from their brain to ours and back, building each other's joy like electro-magnetic charges from one to the other. Something dynamic happens.
"As you relate to your other identities: 'I like ice cream,' 'I want to swing,' it builds this sense of 'Wow, you really love me--because you did what I requested.' Some parts may feel neglected if too much adult stuff is going on. They feel left out. You have to talk to them, ask how they feel.
"Listen to God. Ask him how to bring balance. Be an anointed, inspired leader of the system and lead the family in the right direction. Take authority, help them, listen to them instead of deciding for them where they are. Don't assume. When they're quiet, are they peaceful and merged? Or terribly afraid and hiding out?
"Discovering and working with the identities is the most significant part of all this."
January 26, 2012 (Part 1)
"Jesus, don't look."
"Jesus is in church."
G had asked me if I could see Jesus in the bedroom where bad things were going on. I was adamant: Jesus wasn't there. My mother was in church and He had gone with her. They had both left me unprotected.
Before G could say anything, I realized Jesus was also in the room with Daddy and me. "He was there," I admitted, "--but He had His back to me."
"He had His back--?"
"Because I told Him not to look. I told Him to turn away. Jesus did not see the sex because it's bad. I didn't want Him to see what was happening."
As I said this, I saw Jesus turn around and come to the side of the bed. He leaned over and tried to comfort me, maybe pick me up. I didn't want Him to. He was good. He wasn't supposed to see things like that. I didn't want Him there.
"There are three things in that bed," I told G. "Me, Daddy, and the pleasure between us. One of those things has to be bad. Either I'm bad or Daddy's bad or pleasure--passion--is bad. I've had lots of therapy and I've accepted that I wasn't bad. I don't want Daddy to be bad. So pleasure must be bad--at least for me to enjoy pleasure must be bad, even though the part of me that felt pleasure didn't feel bad."
"There is a part of you that is very loyal to your Daddy."
"Yes. It was important to protect Daddy and our secrets. He's a good daddy. Daddy did those things because he loved me. Daddy would never hurt me."
G suggested I invite Jesus to speak truth to this Daddy-loyal idenity. I heard Jesus say, What happened was wrong with Daddy, but it's okay with your husband. You're not bad and pleasure's not bad. The timing was bad--you're too young to be awakened to those things--and those things are not supposed to happen between daddies and daughters. Your daddy loved you but several things he did to you were not loving. What he did was bad. He knew better.
"He knew better," G repeated when I told him what I was hearing.
Daddy got delight from the sexual things, as I did, but the context was wrong. There are good and safe things to do with a daddy, Jesus was saying, but the things your daddy did to you are not those things.
January 12, 2012
G had asked me if I could see Jesus in the bedroom where bad things were going on. I was adamant: Jesus wasn't there. My mother was in church and He had gone with her. They had both left me unprotected.
Before G could say anything, I realized Jesus was also in the room with Daddy and me. "He was there," I admitted, "--but He had His back to me."
"He had His back--?"
"Because I told Him not to look. I told Him to turn away. Jesus did not see the sex because it's bad. I didn't want Him to see what was happening."
As I said this, I saw Jesus turn around and come to the side of the bed. He leaned over and tried to comfort me, maybe pick me up. I didn't want Him to. He was good. He wasn't supposed to see things like that. I didn't want Him there.
"There are three things in that bed," I told G. "Me, Daddy, and the pleasure between us. One of those things has to be bad. Either I'm bad or Daddy's bad or pleasure--passion--is bad. I've had lots of therapy and I've accepted that I wasn't bad. I don't want Daddy to be bad. So pleasure must be bad--at least for me to enjoy pleasure must be bad, even though the part of me that felt pleasure didn't feel bad."
"There is a part of you that is very loyal to your Daddy."
"Yes. It was important to protect Daddy and our secrets. He's a good daddy. Daddy did those things because he loved me. Daddy would never hurt me."
G suggested I invite Jesus to speak truth to this Daddy-loyal idenity. I heard Jesus say, What happened was wrong with Daddy, but it's okay with your husband. You're not bad and pleasure's not bad. The timing was bad--you're too young to be awakened to those things--and those things are not supposed to happen between daddies and daughters. Your daddy loved you but several things he did to you were not loving. What he did was bad. He knew better.
"He knew better," G repeated when I told him what I was hearing.
Daddy got delight from the sexual things, as I did, but the context was wrong. There are good and safe things to do with a daddy, Jesus was saying, but the things your daddy did to you are not those things.
January 12, 2012
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Soul split
G had my husband join us for this session: "We're trying to assess where she is in the restoration process. Last time Jesus showed up and did these cool things. She isn't switching as much. The dissociative walls are thinning. I think we're much closer to wholeness. What have you noticed?" he asked.
"I've seen very little switching," my husband said. "She gets frustrated at the computer when she's unable to send things out after working on them all day. Other than that--virtually no switching. Are the parts hiding? or integrated?"
"The current conflict [at church] is triggering past memories. In the past she was told 'Don't tell' and she told herself, 'Don't tell.' Now the church leaders are telling her 'Don't tell' but she is telling herself 'DO tell!'"
"God is telling me to tell," I interrupted. "He says to bring the deeds of darkness into the light for His judgment."
"She is able to say, 'I won't be silent about this--' and have people support her."
We got onto the subject of sex. I knew we would. I knew we had to. I told the men, "I don't want to be distracted by intimacy. I avoid it. I'm too busy. It's okay to give pleasure but not to receive it."
"Why?" persisted G. Because you don't feel you deserve it? Because of guilt?"
"Pleasure leads to disappointment and hurt. It means letting down your guard and being hurt more."
G asked, "Is there one who still believes this?"
"Yes," I said, "but she doesn't want to talk about it. She feels she is bad if she likes sex. That was the whole point of dissociating--so she wouldn't have to be involved in it or be affected by it. Enjoying it makes her feel like a prostitute."
"If authentic pleasure makes you feel like a prostitute, it sets up intolerable conflict," said G. Your soul splits."
"I wasn't like that when we got married," I said. "I was all over him. I couldn't wait to marry him and be able to have sex. But now I'm pulling back. Why? Where is that part of me that could abandon herself joyously to sex and intimacy?"
"In this marriage," G said, "these conflicts have no place to hide. It's self-sabotage. Go to your journal," he said, "--not a public one--and connect with this self."
December 29, 2011
"I've seen very little switching," my husband said. "She gets frustrated at the computer when she's unable to send things out after working on them all day. Other than that--virtually no switching. Are the parts hiding? or integrated?"
"The current conflict [at church] is triggering past memories. In the past she was told 'Don't tell' and she told herself, 'Don't tell.' Now the church leaders are telling her 'Don't tell' but she is telling herself 'DO tell!'"
"God is telling me to tell," I interrupted. "He says to bring the deeds of darkness into the light for His judgment."
"She is able to say, 'I won't be silent about this--' and have people support her."
We got onto the subject of sex. I knew we would. I knew we had to. I told the men, "I don't want to be distracted by intimacy. I avoid it. I'm too busy. It's okay to give pleasure but not to receive it."
"Why?" persisted G. Because you don't feel you deserve it? Because of guilt?"
"Pleasure leads to disappointment and hurt. It means letting down your guard and being hurt more."
G asked, "Is there one who still believes this?"
"Yes," I said, "but she doesn't want to talk about it. She feels she is bad if she likes sex. That was the whole point of dissociating--so she wouldn't have to be involved in it or be affected by it. Enjoying it makes her feel like a prostitute."
"If authentic pleasure makes you feel like a prostitute, it sets up intolerable conflict," said G. Your soul splits."
"I wasn't like that when we got married," I said. "I was all over him. I couldn't wait to marry him and be able to have sex. But now I'm pulling back. Why? Where is that part of me that could abandon herself joyously to sex and intimacy?"
"In this marriage," G said, "these conflicts have no place to hide. It's self-sabotage. Go to your journal," he said, "--not a public one--and connect with this self."
December 29, 2011
In the locker room
Usually there are three primary identities in a fractured person, G said.
One has the job of holding the pain--the rawness of the memory, depression, anger. From this identity can come protectors.
Another one maintains denial. "If I accept this is really happening, I will die." This belief isn't foolish. It's necessary.
The third is confused.
I have a hard time believing in these primary identities. (Am I denial?) I don't understand or identify with any of them. (Am I confusion?) Supposedly, they are all parts which "feel like the real me."
Today the one who came to the front struggled to discover who s/he was. "I'm not little--but I'm not [my real age]! I'm not a radical, I'm not depressed or angry. I'm not a passive reporter. I screen outside information. I may be a kind of peacemaker. I keep balance inside the system."
"What requires you to stay separate?" G asked.
"I'm cautious. I protect the whole. Is this true? Is that safe? Does this apply to us? Is that helpful? I screen those things. I've been in charge of walls. I build walls to protect against threats and hurts from outside.
"I'm not just a surface guard, looking around. My work is deeper, more foundational. I deal with structures.
"Some walls do not need to be there. Do I let them down now--inside walls? outside walls? Bunker walls? God is a better protector than I am. I want Jesus Christ to be our protector now. I know He can do a better job than I can. He knows everything so He can anticipate any threat and He's all-powerful so He can deal with each one appropriately. If I pull down all the dissociative walls between each of us--will that be good?"
I don't know if G answered that. (My notes are sketchy and two months old.) At some point he asked where the rest of us were. I saw them all in a kind of locker room, with makeshift curtains dividing temporary living spaces. Maybe this was the bunker they'd chosen to hide in from the bombs going off at church.
G complimented me for having had courage and taken risks to protect the system. He said I had an opportunity to merge with the original self. Or else he was talking to the young ones in the locker room, encouraging them to have courage and take risks. Maybe he said they had an opportunity to merge with the original self. (These notes are cold.)
They were peeking out from behind the curtains and I read their minds: "I'm listening." They were curious.
G said, "Invite Jesus to show you what memories contain the deepest of conflicts, that will have the most wonderful and deepest effects." As often happens, he talks too much and I halfway tune him out, as what is happening within me absorbs my attention. I was seeing all ten or so of me come to the open center of the room. Jesus was standing in the midst.
One at a time each self, some with boldness, some more shyly, was holding out her traumatic memory to Him, each one like a ball or globe. Each memory contained a lie: "I am not allowed to have pleasure. I have to suffer," was one of them. That was a generational lie. I saw ancestors wtih dour, severe faces. Prudes. A spirit of masochism had attached to that one.
By Your stripes we are healed. Somehow that truth was being conveyed to all of us.
Sometimes Jesus knelt to listen or speak to a self and receive the ball she was handing Him, putting it into his heart. Sometimes while he was kneeling, others, already free of their balls and no longer hesitant or serious, were climbing all over Him.
One self was invisible. Jesus peeked into her robe or jacket to see the very little girl inside. He pulled off her hood and offered her His hand, inviting her out. She joined the others who were free, playing with them, enjoying each other.
All this time, as each of the others held out their lies to Jesus and He received them somehow into Himself, there was a little boy sitting apart, his arms folded, his whole face pulled into a frown.
I was giving G a running commentary and I described what he was doing. G said, "Have Jesus tell him he can come to Him, too."
But I said, "He already told him. He already knows he's welcome. Jesus reached out to him but he would have none of it. He pushed his chair even farther back. Jesus laughed at him."
G didn't want to hear that so I had to explain. "It's more like a chuckle. The boy is doing this to himself. He's telling himself 'I'm supposed to be punished. I'm bad. I must pay for my sins! The others are getting away with their sins. I'm the only one who is doing it right!' He is telling himself he doesn't have the right to come to Jesus like the others do. He is supposed to deny himself and suffer. But he knows better."
Finally the boy got up and came to Jesus, who welcomed him with an embrace. Then he ran back and kicked over the chair! He refused to deprive himself of joy any longer! Truth overcame the lie, "I have to be perfect.' The confict was resolved. Now merging was possible. All the little selves were streaming toward me now, being absorbed into me.
G prayed for me in closing, ". . . Help her to feel stronger, richer, more like a 'me.' We speak shalom to her. . ."
December 16, 2011
One has the job of holding the pain--the rawness of the memory, depression, anger. From this identity can come protectors.
Another one maintains denial. "If I accept this is really happening, I will die." This belief isn't foolish. It's necessary.
The third is confused.
I have a hard time believing in these primary identities. (Am I denial?) I don't understand or identify with any of them. (Am I confusion?) Supposedly, they are all parts which "feel like the real me."
Today the one who came to the front struggled to discover who s/he was. "I'm not little--but I'm not [my real age]! I'm not a radical, I'm not depressed or angry. I'm not a passive reporter. I screen outside information. I may be a kind of peacemaker. I keep balance inside the system."
"What requires you to stay separate?" G asked.
"I'm cautious. I protect the whole. Is this true? Is that safe? Does this apply to us? Is that helpful? I screen those things. I've been in charge of walls. I build walls to protect against threats and hurts from outside.
"I'm not just a surface guard, looking around. My work is deeper, more foundational. I deal with structures.
"Some walls do not need to be there. Do I let them down now--inside walls? outside walls? Bunker walls? God is a better protector than I am. I want Jesus Christ to be our protector now. I know He can do a better job than I can. He knows everything so He can anticipate any threat and He's all-powerful so He can deal with each one appropriately. If I pull down all the dissociative walls between each of us--will that be good?"
I don't know if G answered that. (My notes are sketchy and two months old.) At some point he asked where the rest of us were. I saw them all in a kind of locker room, with makeshift curtains dividing temporary living spaces. Maybe this was the bunker they'd chosen to hide in from the bombs going off at church.
G complimented me for having had courage and taken risks to protect the system. He said I had an opportunity to merge with the original self. Or else he was talking to the young ones in the locker room, encouraging them to have courage and take risks. Maybe he said they had an opportunity to merge with the original self. (These notes are cold.)
They were peeking out from behind the curtains and I read their minds: "I'm listening." They were curious.
G said, "Invite Jesus to show you what memories contain the deepest of conflicts, that will have the most wonderful and deepest effects." As often happens, he talks too much and I halfway tune him out, as what is happening within me absorbs my attention. I was seeing all ten or so of me come to the open center of the room. Jesus was standing in the midst.
One at a time each self, some with boldness, some more shyly, was holding out her traumatic memory to Him, each one like a ball or globe. Each memory contained a lie: "I am not allowed to have pleasure. I have to suffer," was one of them. That was a generational lie. I saw ancestors wtih dour, severe faces. Prudes. A spirit of masochism had attached to that one.
By Your stripes we are healed. Somehow that truth was being conveyed to all of us.
Sometimes Jesus knelt to listen or speak to a self and receive the ball she was handing Him, putting it into his heart. Sometimes while he was kneeling, others, already free of their balls and no longer hesitant or serious, were climbing all over Him.
One self was invisible. Jesus peeked into her robe or jacket to see the very little girl inside. He pulled off her hood and offered her His hand, inviting her out. She joined the others who were free, playing with them, enjoying each other.
All this time, as each of the others held out their lies to Jesus and He received them somehow into Himself, there was a little boy sitting apart, his arms folded, his whole face pulled into a frown.
I was giving G a running commentary and I described what he was doing. G said, "Have Jesus tell him he can come to Him, too."
But I said, "He already told him. He already knows he's welcome. Jesus reached out to him but he would have none of it. He pushed his chair even farther back. Jesus laughed at him."
G didn't want to hear that so I had to explain. "It's more like a chuckle. The boy is doing this to himself. He's telling himself 'I'm supposed to be punished. I'm bad. I must pay for my sins! The others are getting away with their sins. I'm the only one who is doing it right!' He is telling himself he doesn't have the right to come to Jesus like the others do. He is supposed to deny himself and suffer. But he knows better."
Finally the boy got up and came to Jesus, who welcomed him with an embrace. Then he ran back and kicked over the chair! He refused to deprive himself of joy any longer! Truth overcame the lie, "I have to be perfect.' The confict was resolved. Now merging was possible. All the little selves were streaming toward me now, being absorbed into me.
G prayed for me in closing, ". . . Help her to feel stronger, richer, more like a 'me.' We speak shalom to her. . ."
December 16, 2011
First cluster of lies
"Get to the root of the tree," G keeps reminding me. "Any conflicts you're having in the present are irrelevant; when the earliest conflicts affecting primary identities are resolved, the rest of the conflicts all the way up into the branches will be resolved."
So each session we ask the Lord to take us to the earliest unresolved conflict. Today it was a cluster of false beliefs:
I am weak, helpless, unprotected. I have no boundaries.
We asked God to speak truth to that lie and He said, "You have ego strength. Dissociation was your survival mode. It enabled you to function."
People can do what they want to me and I have to take it.
God said, You are smart. Inside you stand up for yourself, determined that 'You can't make me, you can't break me.'
G said those lies represented the very start of dis-synchronization of the original identity. The whole system developed believing this and split into primary identities.Pain, fear, or anger drives the inner vow I made: "I must take care of myself (because no one else will)."
He said if any other lie messages are still alive it is because they are rooted in memories that certain parts of me hold so they feel true. He said the Holy Spirit needs to link with those memories and the parts holding those memories and to replace those false beliefs. His truth resolves the lies.
December 1, 2011
So each session we ask the Lord to take us to the earliest unresolved conflict. Today it was a cluster of false beliefs:
I am weak, helpless, unprotected. I have no boundaries.
We asked God to speak truth to that lie and He said, "You have ego strength. Dissociation was your survival mode. It enabled you to function."
People can do what they want to me and I have to take it.
God said, You are smart. Inside you stand up for yourself, determined that 'You can't make me, you can't break me.'
G said those lies represented the very start of dis-synchronization of the original identity. The whole system developed believing this and split into primary identities.Pain, fear, or anger drives the inner vow I made: "I must take care of myself (because no one else will)."
He said if any other lie messages are still alive it is because they are rooted in memories that certain parts of me hold so they feel true. He said the Holy Spirit needs to link with those memories and the parts holding those memories and to replace those false beliefs. His truth resolves the lies.
December 1, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Not whole but healing (whole-ing?)
When I told my counselor about the false teaching, deception, and cruelty on the part of the leadership of our church against its members, he asked, "Why don't you leave?"
I said, "God has not released us to leave. He has told us to stay and stand, to bring the deeds of darkness into the light of His judgment.
"Also," I said, "because the situation there parallels the one with my dad when I was little--abuse under color of authority--it has actually brought up memories and feelings and insights that are helping me get the healing I've been getting in here."
Then he said, "All that is happening now could provide the motivation for all the parts to become whole, serve to bring about emotional, cognitive and spiritual wholeness. God can use even what's happening with the church to resolve basic splits."
:o)
I said, "God has not released us to leave. He has told us to stay and stand, to bring the deeds of darkness into the light of His judgment.
"Also," I said, "because the situation there parallels the one with my dad when I was little--abuse under color of authority--it has actually brought up memories and feelings and insights that are helping me get the healing I've been getting in here."
Then he said, "All that is happening now could provide the motivation for all the parts to become whole, serve to bring about emotional, cognitive and spiritual wholeness. God can use even what's happening with the church to resolve basic splits."
:o)
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