I have been posting articles of a political nature to the "Chaplain's Corner" and feel it's high time I added one on the subject matter denoted for the group. I really appreciated the invite from Enoch after I responded to one of his post (regarding"Counseling the Dying." I wanted to extend an opinion/viewpoint or discussion that would hopefully invoke some conversation and discussion for those who know, those who don't & those who are struggling regarding the question of whether or not there is a God. I have a tendency though to be "long-winded" and have my passions run away with me - so please bare with me!
Before, I can address the aforementioned title of my article - a little background is needed:
When I was 7 years old my mother was murdered by my (adopted) father while my siblings an I slept. People think children do not grasp the concept of death - in some respects that is true, yet I knew what died was when I tried to climb into my mother's casket! My siblings an I were taken in by family it was a stark environment from the one I came from (although I would later learn about the trials my mother went through in the marriage, I as a child never saw them) as my mother was the best! Prior to my mother's death my sister and I wen to Catholic School - it stemmed from an incident in public school where the teacher in my either 1st or 2nd grade class would round us up & take us to the boiler-room with her pointer stick, she would single out kids & belittle them - then whack us with the stick. Needless to say, I went home & told my mother. She went to the school & raised holy heck - removed my sister an I. Prior to her death she was also converting to Catholicism, yet when she died were removed.
I was raised in the Church - as a kid we went to Baptist Church, then African-Methodist Episcopal Church (AME) and in the summer when my family went on "family vacations" my sister and I were sent to my aunt's house who attended Penticostal Church - which involved many, many, many Revivals - if you have never attended a revival - it's an experience (even I as a child knew that!)
In my new home as I stated it was a cold and unloving environment, I was sexually molested from the time I was 10 1/2 until I was 13 years old (at which time I told about the abuse) upon telling I was ripped away from my family, the only home I'd known and my sister and I were passed from relative to relative, but ultimately put into the system - whish also was no PICNIC! I wnet on to marry young have two beautiful children, but my husband was physically abusive ( you must understand that I wasn't to know until my maternal grandmother's death the circumstances surrounding my mother's death), I subsequently left that marriage and raised my children on my own: I went to the military, became a Paralegal and ultimately at Fourty went back to school to study Massage Therapy (which I graduated with honors both times)
It was not an easy life, but it was mine and although I had challenges (some from my own bad or uninformed youthful choices), I hadn't lost my faith in God or others, I just with the harsh start had little in myself. In my response to Enoch's article mentioned above, I wrote some about the experience I had that turned me around and in the most truest of form redeemded me and made new new. I loved someone who unaware that I had a hieghtened sixth sense (always!) was leaving me & cowardly not saying a word - it was like being slapped & then kicked HARD, I had not known that pain since my mom, but this ripped the scab off of those emothions & brought me to my knees - each attempt to move forward sent me down and then I noticed I was having trouble breathing (literally) and noted that I was dying! I was over joyed with the prospect - I even with the knowledge of how God-awful it is to be a motheerless child in this world could not bring myself to care. A friend of mine saw (she was a nurse) what was going on an got me to the doctor, I went to three (probably capable) who looked me over, diagnosised me and sent me on my way - of course I was happy that didn't look to close. One night I was really having difficulty breathing and I called the last physician I saw - he told me use the over-the-counter inhaler, I phoned my cousin and she said call an ambulance.
I instead sat there and then time stood still! There was not a physical presence in the room with me, yet I could sharply feel one - it said "you have never been alone," "I know you have suffered in this live, yet it was not because, I did not love you - it was because I loved you most of all." The only choice you have to make is the one you do not understand now, that there is a difference from being alive & living!" that was it with the exception of the feeling that stealed over me of light, love, mercy & understanding! I then woke my children & called an ambulance. The doctor's told me I had point 3 oxygenation in my body and should have been dead!
After I left the hospital I healed and then went to MOCSA (Metropolitan Organization to Counter Sexual Assault) and dealt with the overwhelming shame that I had always lived with. I learned there that the "shame" was never mine to carry and along with my conversation with God - I was worth fighting for! I walked around for quite awhile bathed in taht light, love, mercy & aura - so much so that others who recognized it would be put off & attack me with "why are you so happy!" "What are you always smiling about" and my favorite "Don't you have any problems!" I would say "I smile because God loves me - is there anyother reason to!" " Of course I have problems, I just do not allow them to consume me." Along the way I have lost some of the aura and such, yet I have not EVER lost my understanding or love regarding the ONE who birthed US ALL! With all that is going on in the world, in our lives, families and politics it is eay to lose sight or hegde our bets on whether or not God is real,, bu trust me even though physican would say it was the lack of oxygen in my body that made me hallucienate or a psychologist would say I was clinically depressed an that's why I felt that way - they wer enot there & did not hear or feel what I heard & felt; they didn't see the reactions that people had to me before & after or the live that experience helped me carve from that moment on.
I am not trying to make up anyone's mind or convert anyone to anything, I just thought by sharing my experience and my life - I could spread some GOOD NEWS to those on the fence, in pain or lost. I believe that Church is for PRASING THE LORD with all your heart and preaching the good news, extending ourselves with in the larger community & helping each other WITH THE ONE & ONLY JOB THAT GOD GAVES US TO DO - LOVE!
I know that by saying "That's the Good News" you understand that there is also some bad news, yet that is an article for another time, which I promise to write SOON!