The Tearing of the Soul

 Journal # 2

"For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry because they have rejected the word of the Lord." (1 Samuel 15:23 KJV.)

As I take this arduous journey through my past I do it with a heavy heart but I believe my testimony will help someone and I will finally have the privilege to bring all those broken pieces into a complete closure. From eight to twelve years I became the poster child for rebellion in my family. I did things I should not have done and said things I should not have said or refrained from saying. I got into fights with some of the children in the neighborhood. I was rude and disrespectful to my mother's help at home. I was a sassy child, selfish and I yielded to my carnal nature in a big way. So much so, my parents were contemplating sending me to a special home for "out of control children."

Little did I know the enemy of my soul and of my life had his fangs deep within my soul, tearing it apart until I believed I did not belong in the household. It was as if I had no control of my thoughts or my mind and it obviously affected my behavior with those who were around me. I was confused most of the time seeking refuge in solitude. I felt as if I was in a fog, tormented and disturbed by unseen forces beyond my control. It definitely affected some of my relationships except a few. My performance at school was horrendous and school was an anathema to me. I did everything I could to escape this prison I associated with school. My teachers were my warden and did not understand me or even liked me, while inside I was crying out for someone to see me, to help me to navigate this prison I felt was suffocating me. At school I became someone else. I was quiet, withdrawn and had very few friends that I don't even recall their names. I thought I had a "Jekyll and Hyde" personality or a "two-faced" personality. When my mother was summoned by one of my prison wardens she told them I was completely the opposite at home.

My academic career was greatly deficient and flawed at school. I was kept back a grade due to poor performance and was always in the bottom percentile at each test recorded. My parents, especially my father were livid but he did not know what to do. My mother intervened and sent me across the street to one of the neighbors who was a teacher to help me with arithmetic, which was a conundrum to me. I still didn't get it no matter how hard I tried. My teachers, especially, Ms. Leacock thought I was a moron or some type of imbecile and she whispered behind my back to other teachers. The school I went to pride itself on excellence and I was a very poor demonstration of such. Naturally, I began to believe maybe something was wrong with me if everyone around me thought or believed there was. Not all of my teachers were unpleasant or unhelpful there were few who tolerated my lack of skill in the classroom. 

One of the reasons I believe I did poorly at school, in retrospect, was my poor sleeping habits or lack thereof. I do not recall ever having a good night or sustained quality of sleep. I know I did not feel right in my body or my mind. I had leg cramps at night and I was afraid to fall asleep. In my dreams there was a dark foreboding presence, waiting for me every night. This sinister and gloomy presence I believe wanted to drive my insane or to kill me in my sleep. So every night I had either to run and hide somewhere in this dream state or fight as if my life depended on it, and I believe it did. The nightmares were recurrent and never let up. It was not the usual childhood nightmares that occur in some children and then stop. These nightmares were like a barrage every single night for years and years even after childhood. This malevolent presence had one intent and it was to cripple me any way he could. I was terrorized and tormented so naturally when I went to school I was tired from lack of sleep, anxious all the time due to poor performance and was unable to focus or concentrate on anything. My parents were clueless about what was happening to me. In my dream I would run to either of my parents for refuge but they were unable to save me. I was always late getting up in the mornings and never had time for breakfast so most mornings I felt nauseous and light headed. At school we were offered milk and biscuits mid-morning but it made me feel worse and I was allowed to go to my grandmother who lived a few yards from the primary school I attended. She too wasn't happy with seeing me coming to her house. It was a mess. I was a mess.

I remained rebellious throughout those years and instead of remaining at home as I was told to do, I sought refuge from a specific neighbor who had sympathy for me. I like going to her house and sitting with them while they discuss their day or problems. One of the daughters and I became best friends and we would sit for hours chit-chatting about nothing. They became my adopted family. I spent a great deal of time there even after my father threatened to spank me. I went anyway. Thus began my rebellious career. Later as I was told by the Holy Spirit to write about heresy He gave me the title: the tearing of the soul of a rebellious man. So hence the reason I write these journal pages which is my testimony of how rebellion is rooted in heresy and we see the effects of it all around us. Even Mother Earth is rebelling against mankind's abuse of nature. This is the tearing testimony of my soul. A woman who was ensnared by the enemy the author of rebellion.

Heavenly Father, thank You for Your goodness to me. Thank You Lord, even though no one saw me when I was a child You did. You sent an angel to rescue me from my watery grave and You kept me fighting that demon who appeared every night to torment me. Thank You Lord, for giving me Jesus even when I did not know Him or of Him. You saw me searching for a lifeline and You led me to You. Praise God, in Jesus's Name.