Dad, are you still an atheist?

Growing up I always knew that my dad didn't like clergy. His references towards them were always negative. I really didn't know why but I do believe that it had something to do with his upbringing and training.

My dad comes from a family line of Navy SEALs and I was told that back in the first days of SEALs they were taught NOT to believe in a god so that it would be easier for them to do their job which usually consisted of killing men, women, and children - no matter their age. 
Without a belief in a god there would be NO conscience moral accountability and their #1 focus would be to complete their mission. Their full allegiance was to the United States.
America was their queen and she was to be fully protected - no matter what.

Now, I don't know if that's what caused him to not believe in a god but at any rate, my dad was very vocal about his atheist belief and his disgust with church leaders.

So, how did he end up with my mom who was a devout catholic committed to her religion??
He rescued her from my first dad who was literally beating her close to death. I've heard stories about how he literally went in and brought her out. Yep, like a badass.

He was her "knight and shining armor"...well almost. More like her boss turned bodyguard husband. Their partnership and marriage was beautifully unique. 
He took it upon himself to protect her and, in exchange, she cared for him and his son. He was a single dad.
And when I was seven years-old he became the man who would raise me in my most formative years (7-14) before leaving home.

"Rina, remember how I raised you! Don't force your god on people!" - Dad

My relationship with my mom's second husband (looking back as I write this) was satirical and to some, unique. My dad was a complex man and I, unknowingly, challenged that complexity.
I was the typical step-daughter that tested his boundaries to see how much this man loved me, yet, hungry for as much approval as I could get to match the approval from my first dad.

As I sit to write this, I can honestly say, he couldn't approve of my ways because he didn't understand me but he absolutely loved me.
He didn't love me in the ways my first dad did but he did love me in his own way and because of that I wanted to share the gospel of Jesus with him. No matter what.

In Janurary of 2015 I got my chance.

As I was scrolling through Facebook I saw that one of my siblings had shared that he was in the hospital and was asking for prayers. I quickly texted her to inquire details and to get their contact information. When I left home, I left everything. So, I didn't have any information about my parents or their whereabouts.
However, that day something deep inside my gut said "Surina, it's time."

Before calling him I asked a team of prayer warriors to pray for me to have an opportunity to share the gospel of Jesus. It was my hope that he had changed his mind about a belief in a possible god and that maybe he could consider Jesus Christ from the Bible.

When I was a young girl I asked him why he didn't go to church and he told me that "there is no god" and if there was one he wouldn't want him because he had done "too many bad things". And if he did go into a church "the walls would crumble."
Now, as a little kid I believed him because he was a man of war...BUT... as I grew up and got to learn more about WHO Jesus was and WHY He came, I knew MY DAD WAS WRONG!
I wanted to let him know that Jesus came for stubborn wayward asses just like him.  
He was the perfect example of WHY Jesus came.

I was really nervous to call my parents because I hadn't spoken to my mom in almost a decade and my dad in almost two decades.
My relationship with my mom was always strained and I was use to it but I expected more from my dad and he failed miserably. He knew it, I told him. He hurt my heart and at eighteen years-old I stopped talking to him.

Over the years I would hear of him being sick, losing body parts or having surgeries and I still wouldn't call him.

One Christmas (a decade into our separation) I sent him a very personal gift and I was told that he cried upon opening it which made me cry and, yet, I still wouldn't call him and he wouldn't call me.
This was our uniquely personal relationship.

I honestly believe that because our relationship was so uniquely personal God was giving me an opportunity to share the gospel with him.

So, with all that was in me... I made the call.

Facebook is like a time capsule of your daily life. Somewhat like a journal. I'm grateful for it.

On my first call my dad was asleep and so I caught up with my mother about his health. It was definitely time for me to call home. He was very sick. I told her that I would try again the next day.

The next day I called and had a conversation with my dad that I will never forget. It was definitely time for me to speak to him. He was refusing all treatments and was willing to suffer the consequences including death.

For 18 years there was silence between us and now we were trying to play catch up. He had so many questions for me.
He didn't know that I had given birth to a daughter and that I had married the father of both my kids.  He asked me if my husband treated me well and I told him that I was safe and was being treated very well. I made him laugh when I emphasized that my husband was "a white man" because as a young angry teen I promised him that I would marry a black man and have black children just to piss him off.
Our relationship was always so sarcastic and hearing him laugh brought back so many memories.

After we stopped laughing I finally got to ask him the one question I had been waiting to ask:

Dad, are you still an atheist?

After a long pause he said,

"Rina, it's complicated but I can't say that a god doesn't exist."

I then shared with him that my family goes to church every week. He asked me if it was Catholic and I told him no, it's nondenominational Christian and that my husband was a Christian and that we were attending his church.

There was a longer pause, so much so that I said "dad?"
And then it came:

"Rina, you can't listen to those preachers. We've talked about this. They lie. All of them........."

As I sat and listened to his list of concerns for my choice and trying to think of a way to defend it, I felt the need to ask him: Dad, have you ever read the Bible?

"Yes, Rina. I've read the whole thing."

Of course, I already assumed he did because my dad was sort of a history buff and so I felt stupid asking the question. But I continued on anyways: So, then you know about Jesus Christ?

"of course."

Dad, who do you think he is?

  "he's one of the great prophets."

So, if you've read the Bible and it says that he is god then what makes you not believe that?

"Rina, the Bible is a book written by men. Moses would be more likely to be god."

Why do you say that?

"You know I've been all over the world. I've lived in both Israel and Egypt. During my operations I saw everything that Moses wrote about up close. I've walked through all the biblical ruins and I've been into areas where the common public doesn't ever get to go. That's why I believe in the Old Testament. I've seen it. What did Jesus ever write about to be seen? Nothing!" 

Dad, Jesus didn't have to write anything because all the writings penned by the Old Testament prophets, including Moses, were about Him. His job was to fulfill ALL that was written about Him. He didn't have to write about all the miraculous healings he performed -- He just did it. And there were witnesses. They all saw His work. The New Testament was the fulfillment of the Old Testament. That's why you can't separate them. If you believe the first portion of the Bible because you saw the writings to be true, then how can you question the validity of the second portion when it's all in one book? It makes no sense.

There was another long pause...

 "I don't know, Rina, I'll have to think about it. But just remember how I raised you. Don't believe anything that anyone says, not even me, but if you end up believing something... you better know WHY."

Dad, that's why I believe that Jesus is God. I know my why. I've read the book from cover to cover and I don't understand it all but I do believe it all.

 "Okay, Rina, he's your God but just remember how I raised you. Don't force your god on other people. Let them choose for themselves." 

As he was talking I heard my mom in the background (who must've been listening to our conversation) say:

"Daddy, it's okay. You know Rina has always done her own thing. So, she's not Catholic. Let her learn."

 And with that a sigh of relief came over us both as we ended our conversation chuckling over the priest that just entered the room and my dad saying:

"love you kiddo but I gotta go. Your mother just brought me a priest."

 So much for choice. LOL!!! 

Acknowledgement of a god is better than denying that any such god exists. Jesus can work with that and in the life of my dad, I believe He did. He had the faith of a mustard seed.

 
Growing up my dad always told me to question everyone especially religious authority. I don't know if he was even aware that he was actually teaching me one of the most important scripture warnings in the Bible. 1 John 4:1 states:

"Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits, whether they are of God; because many false prophets have gone out into the world."

That day I learned something very important -- my dad understood the POWER of a belief system. He knew that whatever a person believed would MOVE them in that direction.

For me, I believe in Jesus and the POWER of His Spirit to MOVE me into His direction.

Thanks for the warning dad! I heard you loud and clear!

 

Healing a Hitler heart

Have you ever hated a specific group of people so much that if they were set on fire and you had the ability to put it out but you hesitated because you had to think about whether or not they deserved to live??

It's sad that I would ever admit to having this much hate in my heart for a specific group but as a follower of Jesus Christ I need to shed His light on it or I can NEVER truly FOLLOW HIM.
The purpose and plans of God for my life will be (and has been) stalled and no matter how much I try to manipulate my journey to move forward I will always fall short and go around the same damn mountain again because the root of my hate was never plucked out.

BUT... it's time.

For 2018, I do NOT want to continue the year with this much anger, bitterness, and hate inside of me because I've been called to walk alongside these same people. These people that I now call my brothers and sisters in Christ. My spiritual siblings.

Lets address my journey with religious leaders and how God brought me to a place where I can see them as human beings able to do more good than harm.

It's not enough to "tolerate" people. YOU MUST LOVE THEM!!!

Before my dad died we had three conversations and the first conversation that we had (after 18 years of not talking to each other) I shared with him my choice to be a Christian. 

He, of course, was displeased and concerned for me. He then said to me "Rina, remember how I raised you."

Of course I remember.
He was the reason I questioned every religion and spiritual person who came into my path. Whether a person was nice or not didn't matter because I had a very thick filter to screen out religious bullshit. Oh, yeah, his voice was heard loud and clear.

As a young girl being forced to conform into my mother's Catholic religion or be beaten to a pulp; I hungered for the god he said didn't exist. I wanted the "no god" he had because the "god" being represented to me was one of hate, lust, and pure evil. 

But at the same time my dad was an alcoholic who held little hope for human kind.

So, the question for me as a young girl was:

What is the purpose of being alive when the "god" being represented is one so hateful that I hated life and why fight to stay alive when there is nothing better than death? 

Why not just kill myself and end a journey that should've never begun?

This has been my decade long journey with the God I thought I knew. And at every turn He would reveal to me His truths and would not let go of me no matter how much I ran away from Him and clawed at His kids.

Every time I tried to escape His sight, even in the most lewd of places, He would put one of His kids in my path to remind me of His presence. Unfortunately, so did satan.
Spiritual warfare is no joke. 

So began my lessons to learn the difference between good and evil, right and wrong, love and hate, God and no god.
And my teachers all along the way... religious leaders. Some good and some not so good but all appointed to guide me along my journey.

Each leader flawed in a very specific way to remind me that my eyes are to stay on Jesus.
Each leader showcasing a weakness or strength that I am to learn from. Each leader extended grace sufficient enough for their own path set before them. A path that would momentarily cross my path to teach me of the God that loved me so much that He came to give me a heart of flesh for His people and His Spirit to guide my feet Home.

I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will take the heart of stone out of your flesh and give you a heart of flesh"~ Ezekiel 36:26

 

My husband and the beginning of our journey together.

I remember when Paul first proposed to me. We had been together for a little over two months. We were walking past a DIY car wash very late in the evening. I was talking to him about something while he was holding my hand and all the sudden, midway through my spiel, I felt him stop. When I turned to look at him he proceeded to get down on one knee.

Honestly, I thought he was bending over to tie his shoe but instead he took my hand with both of his and asked me to marry him as he slipped a silver smiley face kiddie ring on my finger. We both busted up laughing. I told him why not, I was leaving soon anyways.

I met Paul in mid-September on the exact same day that I got hired by a major airline company and I was scheduled to leave for Texas at the end of November.   

The day I met Paul I knew, immediately before I even set two eyes on him, that he was "THE ONE". 

Now "the one" to most people (especially women) would mean "the one" whom you are to marry or "the one" whom you believe is your soulmate to spend your life with and have all the dreamy-imaginary feel-good goo-goo blah, blah, blahs of life. You know, all that "romance" stuff. 
That was NEVER the case for me. 

I didn't believe in romance and I didn't believe in marriage. Especially happy ones.

"The one" to me meant that he was THE ONE TO GIVE ME MY PROMISED SON.

If you have not read my blog on choosing-to-be-a-mom then you won't understand this blog because this is the very beginning of my journey, not just as a mom, as it was the day God revealed to me that He had been speaking to me my whole life. 
All the times, as a child, that I thought I was talking to myself ... it was ALWAYS HIM at the other end.

Paul and I met the night my friends wanted to take me out to celebrate my new career. 
As I sat outside the club alone smoking my cigarette I felt like I was being watched (something I was use to but this set of eyes felt heavy and different) and before I could look to see the person, in glowing white at the furthest part of my left peripheral vision, I heard a voice speak so clearly that I couldn't ignore it. It was a very familiar voice.

It said "he's the one".

In my mind I asked this voice "what one?" and it answered "the one who will give you your son" and I, immediately, was reminded of my 13 year-old self crying out for someone to help me and I heard the same voice say "I will give you a son." 

Now, if you're reading this and saying to yourself ... "oh, give me a freak'n break", trust me IT GETS WEIRDER.

After hearing this I, immediately, looked to my left to see who "the one" was. Unfortunately, I was NOT impressed.

Paul looked away the moment I looked at him, He looked like he belonged in a church. He was wearing a white button up shirt and light blue jeans. 

I then, immediately, told the voice in my head "nope, he's not my type" then finished my cigarette and walked back into the club to dance with my friends.

As I was dancing, THE VOICE said "go outside, sit at the last table and he will come to you."  
It spoke to me so LOUDLY that I couldn't hear the music. I was so irritated that I just obeyed it because I wanted it to leave me alone. 

I looked at one of my friends and asked him if he could go outside to have a cigarette with me and the moment we sat down Paul walked up and asked if he could join us. 

We talked and I asked him if he would meet me again in the same club a couple days later. I did not give him my number. I decided that if he was really "the one" then he would show up. And he did.

The next day I contacted everyone I was “seeing” and cut them off. Now that I found “the one” I needed to focus. 
My friends thought I was crazy but I knew what I knew and knew what I heard. 
I still didn’t know whose voice I heard but I was POSITIVE that I was now heading in the right direction.

Being with Paul was so NEW. There was nothing that we had in common. He was not like any man I had ever contemplated as a possibility for my "type".
  

He was kind, thoughtful, shy, quite and lacked in confidence. I was a cold hearted, in your face, self-centered bitch and, unfortunately, proud of it. He was my opposite.  
(on our first date I scared the crap out of our waitress and Paul never lets me forget how cruel I was. I don't think I want to forget. It keeps me kind.)

Paul was far from the type A, workaholic, arrogant jackasses that I usually found myself being with. I attracted men as arrogant as I was. Paul was different.

What really drew me the most into Paul was his objections to my way of life. I was intrigued.
As a “girlfriend” I was wild and my "ways" were reckless and he REFUSED to have any of it.

  

The beginning of our journey literally started on a boat. Why is Paul not smiling? Because he was trying to jump ship.

Now, you would think that once I met Paul and stood in front of the man butt-naked he would give me the sperm I needed, right?? Ooh... NO! 

Paul had this thing called "morals" and "convictions" and he refused to give me sex.  
He equated sex with meaning. My internal voice was screaming -- what in the hell is going on?!

At that time he never told me why he refused me, he just admired my nakedness and then turned me down and turned away. He was the weirdest man I had ever met. 

I was 21 years-old, accomplished in everything I was doing and in the BEST shape of my life and he REFUSED to do anything sexual with me. I had never been through such a situation. I've dated gay men before and I knew he wasn't gay. 
Trying to understand how come I couldn't seduce this man was frustrating. Especially knowing that he was "the one" that was suppose to give me my son.

I started to doubt the voice I heard because I couldn't understand what was blocking my advances.

Paul would only hold my hand and kiss my face. He REFUSED to touch me sexually. I would place his hands on my bare breasts and he’d remove them and step away from me. The more I pursued sex the more he withdrew.  

He finally told me (during our boat cruise pictured above) that he needed to get away from me. Honestly, I was shocked. I had never met a man like that before. He was so weird. 

On January 13, 2013 I finally asked Paul about how he met Jesus and what he remembered about our courtship. Mind you, I’m asking this after 13 years together and two kids. Yes, I was extremely self-consumed when it came to my relationship with him. How he put up with me is a freak’n miracle.  

 

There's a reason why God tells us to journal your journey with Him. #ToRememberHisFaithfulness

What Paul shared  that night was that everything in him wanted to disobey BUT he was told TWO THINGS by the God he served:

1.      Do not talk to me about Jesus. He was not to mention ANYTHING about his Christian faith and to wait for His timing.

And then…

2.      He was warned NOT to have sex with me and was told to wait for an appointed time or else he'd lose me.

When he shared this I was in awe because I couldn’t believe the DETAILED CRAFTSMANSHIP OF GOD’S HANDIWORK.

He knew the sexual abuse I grew up with and how I had learned to utilize it's destruction and He also knew the hate-filled words spoken over me by the first “Christian” person I had ever met as well as the hate I carried for religion and it's leaders.  He was there in every moment and He did NOT forget me.

Because I was usually trying to get pregnant (and yes most of the guys knew) I would have sex with men and if I didn't get pregnant within a certain amount of time (usually a month) I would leave. My womb and body was not mine. Nothing in me emotionally was invested. Everything was disposable. 
 I was trained as a young girl that men were ONLY for breeding. Other than that, they were useless. There was no such thing as “love”.

With Paul, I was FORCED to get to know him as a person, as a human, and as a child of The Living God. 
I was FORCED to invest in him and allow him to invest in me.

He was the first person I ever spoke to about my past. He was the first person to be angry for me. We were becoming friends.

Our little family EXACTLY eleven year to the day of when I convinced Paul to take this journey with me.

Our little family EXACTLY eleven year to the day of when I convinced Paul to take this journey with me.

In God’s mercy He prepared a husband for me. I don’t know why. 

Perhaps it’s more that He prepared a father for the kids he has given us to steward together because if there’s anything Paul and I fight about more than anything it is -- the best possible future for our kids. 

We want to remove as many generational curses off our kids as humanly possible and trust God to remove the rest.

 

Our marriage journey has not been easy and there was so much darkness but as I sit today to write this… I would NOT change a thing.

The LORD has done an AMAZING work in our lives and we are so glad that we said “YES” to His invitation to go on this journey with Him.   

"I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  Wait for the Lord;
Be strong and let your heart take courage;
Yes, wait for the Lord."~ Psalm 27:13,14

#ThankYouJesus

When the devil's move is obvious

Have you ever gotten into a fight with someone and in the midst of the fight, out of nowhere, your adversary attacks you in a way that you know -- that you KNOW -- they have come to a place of desperation because they're losing ground and they don't know what else to do but make stuff up???
And right when you thought that they were winning the fight and you were growing weary, all of a sudden you gain a burst of energy and strength and you can't help but bust up LAUGHING...?
BUT... not just any old laugh though; ohhh, no... it's a bust-a-gut-laugh-out-loud-utter-relief laugh in knowing that you were just being hit by an inflatable kiddie bat?
You know the annoying ones you win at the fair and it squeaks when it makes contact with it's target? Yeah, those ones.

Well, several weeks ago I was feeling like a complete failure and wondering if I'm really hearing God correctly in my decisions. Decisions that make no sense to me and where I felt like I was walking in the dark with only a voice directing me. I was struggling to separate His voice from my own and doubting my closeness to Him. Where is He!?

Then all of a sudden I see a light of Hope.

“I am the light of the world. He who follows Me shall not walk in darkness, but have the light of life.” ~John 8:12

When I first decided to be a follower of Jesus Christ I was NEVER warned that I had also entered into a spiritual war. And that this war between good and evil, right and wrong, light and darkness has existed since the beginning of mankind.
This war happens on a DAILY BASIS and most people have no idea that they're involved in it no matter if they believe in a god or not.
Those who are made aware have a choice to fight or die. Sounds dramatic, huh? It is.

We have a REAL enemy out there that hates us and will do anything, in his (limited) power, to take us out of our God-given purpose. His job is to make our lives a living hell through deceitful lies planted in our minds.     

Well, it has taken me several years in my walk to REALLY recognize this enemy.
He has several names: Lucifer, Satan, father of Lies, etc.... you get the idea.
I call him the devil and I have, for the most part, chosen to ignore him.

I never wanted to give him any credit or acknowledge him in any way just in case God was testing my faith or disciplining me for being self centered. 

Well, this time I will give credit where credit is due because he must be getting desperate for my attention to recognize his presence and give him some acknowledgement.

Okay then... hello stupid!

"I keep my eyes always on the LORD..." ~Psalm 16:8

Wow...really!!!?

That was my exact thought when I opened my email that morning to receive my daily devotions.

I couldn't help but bust out in laughter because over a year ago I would've fallen straight in the hole of darkness I have been scraping to come out of.

You see, I had NEVER in my over 25 years of having an email account gotten anything so blatantly pornographic. Ever! In almost 3 decades!
Even when I was not following Christ and living in that lifestyle did I even receive any porn.
I've got great filters for this junk but somehow it got through for the first time ever and (I believe) that because God knew this day was going to come, at this very difficult season in my life where I'm left very vulnerable to sexual sin, He made sure I was protected in every possible way with His word and His people.

For the past 2 years I've sat in a room to learn about sexual purity and relational wholeness and for the first time ever I felt the need to ask my group to hold me accountable for porn and masturbation every week since my husband and I were abstaining from sex until we went through counseling.

This would be, for me, the first time in my life that I would walk out sexual purity. It was really strange because my first memory in life was sexual. Sexual immorality was very normalized for me. I recognize it fairly quickly.

Purity is what's foriegn to me. I had to learn about purity.

And then what made me laugh even more was the scripture that Christine had right below them. Psalm 16 is all about the hope of the faithful and the Messiah's victory.

It's all about our victory in Jesus. 

That morning I laid there after a few minutes laughing and just felt the joy of the Lord pour His salve on my heart. He was SO near and because of Him...

I survived this battle.

Psalm 16 (NKJV)

1 Preserve me, O God, for in You I put my trust. 
² O my soul, you have said to the Lord,

“You are my Lord,
My goodness is nothing apart from You.”
³ As for the saints who are on the earth,
“They are the excellent ones, in whom is all my delight.”

⁴ Their sorrows shall be multiplied who hasten after another god;
Their drink offerings of blood I will not offer,
Nor take up their names on my lips.

⁵ O Lord, You are the portion of my inheritance and my cup;
You maintain my lot.
⁶ The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places;
Yes, I have a good inheritance.

⁷ I will bless the Lord who has given me counsel;
My heart also instructs me in the night seasons.
⁸ I have set the Lord always before me;
Because He is at my right hand I shall not be moved.

⁹ Therefore my heart is glad, and my glory rejoices;
My flesh also will rest in hope.
¹⁰ For You will not leave my soul in Sheol,
Nor will You allow Your Holy One to see corruption.
¹¹ You will show me the path of life;
In Your presence is fullness of joy;
At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

"The Call" to go back -- pick it up or suffer!

If I keep my eyes focused forward then I don't ever need to deal with what is in my peripheral vision. 

I see it, it's there, but if I close my eyes long enough to pass it and pretend that it's not there.... then I will survive today.

It's always there but if I create enough mind-numbing bad habits or fill my day with the loud noise of this world then I can get another chance to forget about it. A momentary relief.

All I need to do is to survive today and hopefully (if God really loves me) I won't wake up tomorrow. 

I believe that any one who God has called has hurled this internal scream at Him.

What you just read has been my state of mind for the past month (yes, January 2017) because I don't want to be obedient to God. AT ALL!!!
I don't want to go to church! I don't want to write about my journey with Him! I don't want to give up my liquor! I have a list of "I don't wants" and I can guarantee you that if I continue in this disobedient "I don't want" state, not only will I suffer BUT so will my babies. And I KNOW this. 

I, as a mama,  KNOW THIS!!!

My babies are always watching me to see... IS JESUS REAL?

I don't have the heart to do that to them. I can't imagine allowing my kids to suffer at the hands of my disobedience when I know that God wants to bless them.

Throughout the Bible God talks about His blessings and curses and what happens to the children of those that CHOOSE to fight against Him. I lose, they lose. Simple as that.

NOOO!!!

I want my kids to receive whatever blessings they can get without my stubborn ass holding them back.

So, me sitting and writing this is my fight to be obedient because -- "IT" is killing me.

I thought that it was gonna be dead and gone last year BUT it is alive and well and it is trying to kill me and no amount of gorging on "bad habits" will take it away.
I can't outrun it.
It is there when I close my eyes and when I open them.  
It is always there when I arrive.

IT IS EVERYWHERE!!! I have NOWHERE to hide.

So, I might as well stand up, look straight at it, grab it by its neck then shake the living fuck out of it because running away has me worn out.

I'M EXHAUSTED!!!

The "it" I am referring to is the call to share my journey.  

My testimony but mostly my past.

How I was abandoned by my natural parents and then found by ones who would enslave me for several years. Then how later God would use these same people to push me into a place of understanding His GREAT love, my heartbreaking loss, and why I must choose to surrender my life into His hands  DAILY!!!

I'm no longer bitter or angry about my past. I'm just SAD that I can't move on without "it" always being there.
It's in every damn corner and/or conversation. It's annoying.

Like Jim Carry from the Cable guy. It won't leave you alone. It's in the room when you enter. Yikes!

Here's some comic relief because this is gonna be some heavy shit! 

:)

Okay, lets get serious though....

Sharing my story has also become kind of a nuisance to me because I feel like I've shared it enough. So why continue?

I've been given several reasons but one is because there is more to my story that I don't believe is important to share BUT God does.

He sees an INTRICATE DETAIL that I am not able to see and if you know Jesus Christ personally as your Savior then you will know that He is VERY DETAIL ORIENTATED. 
Like major OCD'ish. Worse than anyone I have ever known. Trust me. It's part of His character.

Details are VERY IMPORTANT to Him. Especially when it comes to the care and well-being of His kids. 

If you didn't know this about Him, NOW YOU DO!

Anyways, I don't fully understand why I need to share the crap I had to walk through to get to where I am able to function with other human beings.
I really don't know how it will be beneficial for anyone, including myself, to continue sharing, publicly, more about my journey because I've already written about my flawed upbringing, the abuse I had to endure and how I overcame the "mentally ill" title I was given.

I feel like I have healed enough to function in society as a "sane" person. A person of peace whom no longer strives to cause or create drama.

But here I am. God's call for me has not changed.

"Rise up; take courage and do it.” ~Ezra 10:4

Two months ago, in November, my brother (who was also one of my childhood sex offenders. I'm not ready to say the "R" word.) was sentenced to finally serve some prison time for his over 30 years of sexual offenses. I have already written about this in another post HERE.

After his year long court ordeal ending in him finally admitting guilt and all was said and done a part of me was convinced that I can now move on with my life.

I felt like I had done everything that I needed to do. I didn't stand on the sideline. I made the call. I stood alone. I cried at night and smiled in the day. I did my part. I fought hard and I believed my battle was done.

I felt a great sense of relief knowing that he finally had a place that was no longer around children and where he could finally get the HELP he needed away from the family that enabled his actions.

But most importantly, for someone like me that had to deal with the shame of incest and the family looking the other way, that he would finally have a label that would hold him and those that chose to be around him ACCOUNTABLE for his actions.
Because prior to his imprisonment NOT ONE family member stood by me when I called the police to report his abuse towards children. NOT ONE! NO ONE!

So, why am I still not free to move on with my life?
Why have my nightmares not gone away and gotten worse?
Why am I still triggered by horrible memories?
Why am I still needing to drink myself to sleep?
Why is suicide still at the forefront of my mind on most mornings?
(Some mornings are easier than others but my recent mornings, especially since the new year, has been almost down right crippling.)

WHY???

Because: God's call on my life has not changed!

My brother going to jail and my family needing to face their part in his abuse has not changed God's call for me to continue sharing my testimony.

I DON'T KNOW WHY!!! It just hasn't.

Welcome to my life!

I'm Surina and I am a child of God trying to follow Jesus the best way I know how because -- IT'S PERSONAL! 

BTW...
if you don't like my word use then please feel free not to read my blogs because I'd rather write in honest form than try to please you. I will be addressing "words" in a later blog but for now this is me in a process towards further healing. I look forward to the day that my mouth stops cussing. But today is not that day. Goodbye!

If you fully obey the Lord your God and carefully follow all his commands I give you today... the fruit of your womb will be blessed..." ~Deuteronomy 28:1,4

Choosing to move Closer to God

You ever have a time in your life where you get hit in the face by the sheer evil in this world and you fall down on your knees and the first words that come out of your mouth is "God, I hate you!" and God starts to tell you about how much He loves you and you tell Him that He's the reason for all your problems. Then as you sit in your pool of tears broken and tired from the weight of hate that you finally say "okay, help me. What do I do?" and He simply says "worship Me." Then He brings you that one song that becomes a light in that time of darkness. Ever have those days???

Well, I did a few days ago and I literally had this song play until it became a part of me. Until I could believe every single word about His love for me.
I've never heard of this song until that day and now, it's part of my library.

The day God taught me the POWER of His forgiveness.

This past weekend my pastor taught on the need for followers of Jesus to forgive and how the "F" word in church is FORGIVENESS.

Now, I've heard him say this  before and my mind would usually retort with an automatic "no, pastor... the F-word for me is still a flat out f*ck!"
Hey, I'm only being honest about what goes on in my head sometimes when I hear certain messages. I can lie and pretend that I'm super holy in my thought life but there's enough liars in the church. And no, I don't hate my pastor. My thoughts just have a way of running amuck and sometimes I don't bother to catch them especially when I'm tired.

BUT this time his message hit me in a very unexpected way.
As my mind was about to go where it normally does I immediately heard God say:

"Surina, I want to bless you BUT not with that attitude. Mind your mind!" 

He then reminded me of how and when He taught me the power of His forgiveness.
It was the FIRST time I chose to trust Him as my Guide. Up to this point I had only known Him as Teacher.

If you've read any of my other writings then you will know that sharing this is not easy but VERY NECESSARY.

I truly BELIEVE that in order for God to grow His kids in acknowledging His power, in any area of their life, FORGIVENESS IS A MUST. 

PERIOD!!!

It's our KEY to be FREE and to RECEIVE EVERYTHING JESUS DIED TO GIVE US.

The first time I allowed my daughter to go near my brother. Forgiveness removes fear and shame. It reconciles.

My lesson on forgiveness all started with a phone call around 2:30am in April of 2010. It was my niece:

"aunty, I know you probably won't care but..."

before she even finished her words I knew that it was time. God had awoken me seconds before my phone rang. Something in my gut was on fire and I heard "GET UP!" my heart was beating very fast and when I picked up my phone I could only respond with:

"I'm coming. Where is he?"

"Southwest ER. And aunty... the family doesn't know that I'm calling you. He's lost a lot of blood and the doctors are trying to save him."

"It's okay. Don't tell them. I'm leaving right now."

Everything that morning moved very quickly. I swear the call was less than a minute but in that time I had my shoes and coat on with my car keys in hand.

Also in that time, my husband was awoken and ready to battle with me -- for me.

"Pio is in the ER and I'm going to him."

"No, you're not!"

"Paul, I have to go. I don't know how to explain it. I just have to go to him."

"Why?"

"He's bleeding to death and I need to be with my family. I don't know why but I believe God wants me to go."

"Good! He deserves to die! I hate your family! They treat you like shit and now you want to be with them. If you leave -- WE ARE DONE!!!"

I paused long enough to think of all the ways my husband has tried to protect me but at that time I knew what I needed to do. With or without him.

"You're right. But I'm still going. You can talk to God about it but this is what I know He wants me to do."

Arguing with my husband took about three minutes and by now he was standing in the kitchen and I was next to the front door. Miraculously, neither of our kids woke up. When he realized that he was not going to be able to stop me from leaving he finally said:

"Okay, go. But be back before I have to go to work. I don't want to be late."

And out the door I went.

My drive to the ER was a very long twenty-five minutes. In that time I can not even describe the clarity of my mind. I was not in a rush. I felt a peace that I can not even explain. I knew that my life was about to change but I didn't know in what way.

As I was driving I had a flood of memories.
I remembered that in late 2007 God told me to forgive him for the sexual abuse I endured and out of obedience I reluctantly and silently forgave him. Mentally I had forgiven him but my actions displayed a whole different story.

Although I no longer ignored his presence in the room I would, however, not allow him to come near me or to touch me or my kids in any way especially my daughter. My anxieties were VERY high in his presence and my fear made it uncomfortable for everyone in the room because they knew and hoped that I would just get over it. But I just couldn't get over it. No amount of alcohol could drown it out.

Being obedient to God made me feel victimized all over again and I started to believe that God hated me even more. My fake "I forgive you" method wasn't working.
I couldn't handle the pain of the secret, I wasn't strong enough, so I left my very large tight-knit family.

But that morning, during my drive, I couldn't help but ask God to let him live so I could pray with him and tell him about Jesus.
I told God that I'd do anything to see him in heaven and during my prayer I felt compelled to finally call him "brother".
As that word came out of my mouth I felt a freedom and strength come over me. Like a strong invisible covering.

I arrived to the ER and I felt ready to stand before my family. I am the youngest of all ten siblings but on that day I was not to play the baby sister role.

When I arrived I was directed to a private waiting room. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

As expected, my family was very surprised to see me. They usually always are (since 2002) because I tried to have this same bleeding-to-death brother arrested for sexual abuse and from that day on my invitations to family gatherings became nonexistent. I was the outcast. The black-sheep. The adopted one. The leak in their very tight-knit group.
But deep down in my heart I knew that they still loved me.
Strange, huh? Welcome to my family. Beautifully, horribly broken.

As I stood at the door and looked around at all the faces, my heart was filled with compassion. I loved and missed each and every one of them. 
I made my rounds to hug and greet each one (as is the custom) then I sat and asked for an update.
My sister shared what had happened to him and that I could be next to see him since they were only allowing one visitor at a time. My number one objective was to pray for him.

Within a few minutes I was given the okay to go into his room. As I made my way to him I kept asking God to do whatever He needed to do.
When I entered through the curtain he was asleep with tubes attached to him. He looked horrible. He still had blood stains on his face. The drugs had taken a toll on his body. Sin was killing him.

As I stood looking at him I was not angry in any way. All my hate was gone.

I took his cold left hand and knelt down beside his gurney and prayed that God would give me a chance to tell him about Jesus and how I wanted to see him in heaven. I then arose and returned to the waiting room before heading home.
I told my siblings that I had to go and send my husband and kids off for the day but that I would be back.

As I was driving home I remained silent because I felt like I was receiving my marching orders on what the rest of my week was to look like. I was to serve my family until further notice.

One of the ways I was to serve them was to make sure that they were fed and so when I returned later that same morning I took breakfast. At noon, lunch was served. Dinner, same thing.

By the time I came back they had moved him to a private room. Several hours later I was told that he was awake and asked if I was ready to see him. After a deep breathe -- I was ready.

When I entered his room he was surprised to see me and faintly said:

 "Rina, you're here?"

I walked toward him, took his now warm left hand, and shared how much God loved him.
I told him that I didn't hate him enough not to see him in heaven and then asked him the question I had been waiting to ask:

"Do you want to receive Jesus today?"

In silence, he slowly shook his head up and down. I went and got a chair and sat next to him. I told him to repeat after me. (I had never led anyone to Christ before that day.)
A few weeks prior to this day, God had me prepare a salvation prayer for my niece (the one who called me) to read for when she was ready to receive Christ and never had I thought that this was to be the salvation prayer I was going to pray for this brother. I didn't know but God knew about this day.

Within a few minutes Peace entered the room.
From that day on I never spoke again of what he had done to me. I had forgiven him completely. My mental obedience now matched my physical responses. I hugged him with care and treated him like a brother that had never offended me. And my children finally called him uncle.

However, if you have read any of my earlier blogs then you will know that this same brother today is in prison for rape.
The day that I found out that he had continued in his sexual abusive ways I can not even describe the shot of pain that went through my body like a lighting bolt aimed to pierce a hole in my heart. I bled a massive sea of tears. No amount of alcohol could drown out the pain BUT GOD... He has carried me thus far.

I don't understand what His plan in this is but I will continue to Trust in His goodness because His peace has been a shelter for me.

So, why do I feel compelled to share this shameful story in my life?
Because of the freedom my family truly needs. A freedom that begins with FORGIVENESS.

My new F-word.

God, I'm a mess!

I remember the first time that God put it in my heart to start blogging my journey back in February 2012 and I was like "hell no!" because people already thought that I was weird and that the comments that I made always made waves that I never intended. Both good and bad. 
I also got more attention than I wanted. I hated it. I didn't like good attention but I really loved bad attention. I felt more deserving of it. Plus I liked fights and pissing people off. It was almost a hidden gift.

So, when God started to show me that I can do good and that I'm worthy of positive affirmation I immediately pulled away. However, because I wanted God to continue to grow me in my faith of who He was... I was willing to write. BUT only under an alias. I didn't want to be stung by the pain of acceptance or feed my rebellion on rejection. I was able to freely write my thoughts and prayers.

Eventually, over a year later, I felt a deep conviction for hiding my growing love affair with Him and decided to start this blog attached to my real name because our relationship is very real. 

However, before I closed down my alias blog I saved all my posts and decided that I would keep it for memories of my journey. 

Well, this morning one of my pastors preached a very strong message about being real with God in prayers and said to "be honest about being full of lust...". 

I immediately thought about my #1 viewed post where I shared a prayer that I truly felt like God wanted me to share openly. 

Here it is:

Title: I’m a mess but… I’m His mess. 4/7/12

 

 If you have ever felt like a mess then tell Him!

Me:  God, I’m a mess.

Hugely flawed in so many ways and yet, Lord, You still want me? What for? 
Just throw me away like the worthless trash that I am. I came to You haughty, prideful, and full of anger and yet You say “come”?
I have yelled at You and cursed Your name and still You say “come”? 
I’ve stabbed You in the back and denied You openly, mocking Your ways and yet You still say “come”? 
Father, what do You see of me that is remotely worthy of Your kingdom? 
What do I have that You see of use? NOTHING! I HAVE NOTHING! I AM NOTHING! 
I’m a disgusting human full of selfishness and lust. Yet, You still say “come”? Why??

God: Because, Surina, I LOVE YOU!

I knew you before you were ever born. I predestined your path before you ever took a step. You were made for My perfect will. I Am your Father and you are My daughter through the blood of Jesus Christ. In His blood I made  you worthy. In His blood I will make your nothing into My something. 

Surina, JUST TRUST ME!!!

Me: Father, help me then to be willing! I’m tired of trusting in my own ways and the ways of this world. I'm tired of failing to be perfect. Have Your way with me, Lord. LET YOUR WILL BE DONE!!!

_____________________________________________________________________________

This prayer was written during a time in my walk where I was doing everything right and I was walking with people that I thought were godly (the churched) and yet, internally, I felt like I was dying. 
I didn't know what was happening. I just knew that a part of me, internally, had stopped growing and was dying. I hurt.

Just today (2/14/16) I realized that God answered my prayer within in a month after this prayer was posted. 
The way He answered my prayer was not what I expected and so I put up a HUGE fight because His direction was towards a new church and a new church body. 

I loved the church body I was in and saw no reason to move but I'll have to blog later about fighting that year long losing battle. 

A month after this prayer post I followed His lead and was met with this message called: Patriarchs: The calling of Abram

Whatever was inside of me needed to hear this message because when it was time for communion I went down and dropped to my knees to cry and kiss the steps. 
I wasn't sure if that church allowed what I was doing but my body was starving for whatever I had received that I stayed there until the pastor came back out again. 

 "As the deer pants for water, so I long for you, O God.  

I thirst for God, the living God." ~ Psalm 42:1-2

Today as I sit and write this, I'm so glad I lost the battle against God in that season because I would have never seen my life the way that it is today. 

#ThankYouJesus