Running From Demons, or The Fine of Art of Hurting Yourself

I have spent a large portion of my life running, mostly from and occasionally to this thing I could not or did not want to define. I have always been afraid that if I truly embraced all that I know to be true I would only alienate those around me, after all when you spend your childhood knowing things that you should not know, being chastised for having an over active imagination, and doing your best just to fit in, you learn that there are parts of who you are that frighten the adults – you know, the rational folks who rule your world. Things didn’t get better when I supposedly joined the ranks of adults even though I was doing my best to follow the rules of proper behavior and belief.

I got married my final year of junior college, mostly because if you are good Christian girl in Oklahoma that’s what you do. He looked good on paper, ticked off all the little boxes on my checklist of things I wanted in husband that youth directors encourage us to make so that we can be objective in our decisions on who we are to marry. What I wasn’t prepared for was the battlefield being married to him would become, and I am not talking about our epic fights that often left me with bruises or the screaming matches that ended with threats to end one or both our lives, I am talking about the sheer presence of evil in our home.

For most people, evil is an abstract concept. It is something that you define and then you simply do not do that particular thing. It is something that exists but only as a principle or violation of principle, but for me it was real. And this is where I will lose a large part of you who will be convinced that I have lost my ever-lovin mind. When I say evil is real, I am talking about every stupid ploy used on horror movies multiplied by nine and then subdued by the lack of a soundtrack. Pots and pans flying about in your kitchen? Yup. Windows opening and closing on their own? Yup. Footsteps up and down the hallway? Been there done that. How about the radio, TV, and other electronics turning on and off, flipping stations, and emitting garbled noises when they aren’t even plugged in? Seen it. Fireplaces billowing with smoke when they haven’t held a fire in decades? Sure, it happened. The darks shadowy voids would prance about the edges of the room, like a person who moves just out of the corner of your eye, daring you to look at them. That was an everyday event.

My favorite? When they wake you up from a dead sleep to tell you something. My least favorite? When they contort the face of someone you love until they are no longer recognizable, and the spit curses at you in a voice that you have never heard before.

Even in the midst of all this, I was told I was the one losing my mind. I was told that my particular denomination did not have to deal with demons because we didn’t pay them any attention. You know that sounds all well and good, but I have to tell you, it is awful hard not to pay attention to them when they keep jerking the covers off your bed.

Over the years, I have developed a few theories. How right or wrong they are I am still willing to question, but overall they have held up. The first is that any demon that is desperate enough to use direct manifestation as its way to control a person isn’t much of a demon. In fact, I look at them in much the same way I look at mice. Now, ask yourself, how many people have you known who have been hurt by a killer attack mouse? Yeah, me neither. On the other hand, I have met a ton of people who have hurt themselves trying to get away from those fearsome beasts, and that is how most folks seem to get themselves hurt by demons – running away from them.

This is not to say that you don’t do anything. That is stupid. After all, if there is a mouse in your house you set traps, buy poison, call an exterminator because we all know that with mice there is filth and disease, and they will ruin everything they can by chewing it up or defecating on it. It is the same thing with demons, you get them out of your house before they destroy it.

Now most of us have been taught how to pray and how to stand on our authority as believers. We have the right to demand that they leave by the authority given to us in the name of Jesus. The Bible declares this, and quite frankly, most of us haven’t been using it. And I hear from so many who did that things just got worse, so they end up just hoping they will go away – hahahahahaha!!!

Not a chance. These things hide in walls, under furniture, and in your underwear drawer. Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they are not there. You have to take a step further.

All of nature abhors a vacuum, and before we started defining nature as this physical realm, nature was strictly spiritual. So it abides by many of same principles. I would go so far as to say that most of things you see in nature are reflection of how the spiritual realm works. This means that you have to fill the void left by their departure or they will just grab seven of their buddies and come back. This is where most people get stumped because they have never learned how to fill that void.

The good news is like all things of our faith, enacting the solution is easy – so easy that you might miss it. You fill that void with God. And where is God enthroned? On the praise of his people. You have to invite him, create a throne in your home, in your heart, and in your life. Too many of us are claiming to be his subjects but have never bothered to create a place in our lives from which he can rule. It is not enough to do lip service and never put this knowledge in action because when we fail to do so we are leaving a giant void in our lives just crying out to be filled and since demons, unlike God, don’t wait for invitation, guess who is going to rush right in?

This is by no means a comprehensive battle plan. It is just a taste of some of things I am learning not to run away from in my life, and I doing a lesson review for myself as much as for you. To learn more, I strongly recommend Victory Over the Darkness by Neil Anderson and I also recommend that you surround yourself with people who seeking God more than they are worried about what is slipping around in the darkness. Because there is an inherent risk when we focus on these thing too long and too closely, we can become mesmerized by their power and the mystery of it all. We can be overwhelmed by the sheer force of evil that we now realizes surrounds us and become fearful and defeated. But God wants us to know that he is bigger, greater, more powerful, and more awe inspiring than any of the petty displays the demonic enacts on this earth. He wants our hearts to comforted and emboldened to not only seek him but to demonstrate the world the glory of his love in our lives, and we cannot do that if we have been seduced or terrified by beings who have already been defeated at the cross.

So we learn to walk with knowledge and discernment. We seek our Lord so that we may know truth. We strive for balance, somewhere between ignorance and obsession, so that we are properly equipped to face our enemy while never being distracted from our King.

Facing My Hypocrisy

There is nothing like getting slapped upside the head with your own hypocrisy. In the rankings of unpleasant things it is somewhere above having your leg rotting away with methicillin resistant Staphylococcus aureus (MRSA), and just slightly below being eaten alive by rats. However, while I strongly advise avoiding those two scenarios, honesty requires that I acknowledge not only the benefits but the necessity of having our hypocrisy exposed even when it hurts.

It is the temptation and joy of every believer to indulge in complacency about our faith. We like thinking that we have figured out. The rules are simple, the requirement light, and our lives fall into a pattern of convenient obedience. If you are like me, you build a world where blatant sin is hard to come by. Things like killing, stealing, adultery, even gossip, if you are good enough at the game, become more troublesome than being good. Outward obedience becomes easy, and in fact, outward obedience becomes so important that you recoil at the thought of doing anything that would threaten your image of being the good Christian.

But it’s a trap.

Over the past five years, I have spent a lot of time building a social network designed to give me a platform from which to speak. I have been careful with what I post, with what I say, and with what I reveal. People see my work and they say, “Oh, you are edgy!”, “You are so brave to say that!”, and “Wow, I cannot believe how honest you are about these issues!” I have got to be honest with you, I love hearing all that. I love being able to shake people up by talking about things that intimidate so many others. The affirmation is wildly addictive.

But I haven’t been completely honest in my work, at least not as honest as I should be. For a long time now, I have been resisting the prompting to go deeper. If anything resisting is too mild of a word, more like kicking and screaming my protests as I am trying to claw my way free of God’s grasp on my life, and I have been pretty good at justifying it to myself. So many of you know so much about my life already, about things I have experienced that most women keep covered up, and yet, I am the one who will stand in the middle of room full of strangers and tell you the story of how my life was destroyed by violence and deceit. I will tell you have the hard years of being the divorced woman in church, and I will admit to the times of destitution while trying to raise my daughters. I will recount those moments when I defied God, daring him to show himself to be real in the wreckage of my life, and how he met there.

I could do that because I locked down all the emotions. I cut them off and buried them deep so I could tell my tale without flinching. I “set my face as flint” because I did not want to feel the humiliating sting of pity. I would do lip service to my part in the story.  I could admit the pride – the sheer hubris that led me into those places. I could be so stinking spiritual about it all that I would even say that I was thankful for that time, and laugh about how it took something that severe to get through to someone as hard headed as I am. I could confess how I had been a fool and share with you what I had learned, but I never let the enormity impact me, not really, not deep down where counted. It was an intellectual assent to what I knew to be right and good, but there was no heart behind it.

You see, I knew all the answers. I knew which verses to quote and how to phrase things to that you would hear how dazzling my intellect was and never notice what was behind the curtain. After a while, I forgot that there even was a curtain, let alone that there was something behind it. I convinced myself that this was me, all there was to me, and no one needed to know that there was more, not even myself.

The thing is when you lock down your heart that tight, it can’t beat. There is no room left for it to function, and you slowly begin to die. I kept the pain at bay, and if you don’t feel any pain you don’t react. Emergencies and crises become your forte, because you they don’t rattle you at all. How could they? At that point you are nothing more than a robot who is carrying out the programming, a program I did and still do believe is right, but one I could never implement completely because the primary code is love. And acts of love can be performed, but if the emotion is not there then you are offering nothing but pretty lie.

The other problem is if you never feel the pain of a wound inflicted, you will never be able to forgive. You may be able to respond with the appropriate gesture or kind word, but the hurt is still there just lurking behind the curtain. The apathy that was once a shield will harden into bitterness, and the sense of satisfaction for your self-control becomes wall of pride and disdain for those who allow emotion to rule their hearts.

Love for God and reliance upon him erodes, as your ability to cope becomes the new god to whom you have erected your altars. Relationship becomes ritual, not because you derive any enjoyment from his presence, but simply because it is the proper thing to do and your delight is in your ability to do the ritual well. Prayers become perfunctory and empty repetition, as you are left to wonder if he hears you at all, but since when was God ever servant to the decrees of the mind? And how is he to respond to the cries of a heart you have strangled in a futile attempt at self-preservation?

Then comes the day when he places the choice before you, the one you have worked so hard to avoid, do you love him or do you love the life you have created? Do you trust him to heal the wounds you have denied? Do you want him or the walls of protection you have built around yourself?

The answer should be easy. For my mind knows the correct response, but my heart is still clutching at the curtain afraid to step into the light. I was hurt the last time I let down my guard. I still have the scars to prove it. The select few I allowed to peek in used their privilege as the means to hurt me further. I still bleed from those cuts, but I caught breath of fresh air and felt the surge of blood coursing through my veins once more. I remembered what it felt like to be alive once again, and something within me is crying out that this is what I desire more than the false security I have relied upon. The next step is not safe, but even as I accept that peace floods over me because I know that only when my heart is revealed that he becomes its true defender and king.  

Adult Content

At least once a week I have a conversation that goes like this, “I love Jesus. I consider myself to be a Christian. I know that the Bible says that it is wrong, but I believe that God understands why I ___(fill in the blank  with personal pet sin)___.” Now, if you are one of those people who work those phrases into conversations with other Christians and don’t want to get your feelings hurt, you might just want to back away slowly. However, if you are ready for some raw, ugly truth and you think you are adult enough to handle it, keep reading.

Let’s begin with the first statement, “I love Jesus.” No, no you don’t. You love the idea of Jesus and a Jesus who does not conform to Biblical standards. You love the Jesus you made in your image, the passive, cowardly Jesus who has no backbone, who is devoid of holiness and isn’t all that into justice.
A Jesus without these attributes is easier to love. He has no feelings to hurt, no holiness to offend and no sense of justice to violate. You can prop him in the corner of the room and take comfort in knowing that nothing you do wounds his heart or injures your relationship. A Jesus like this never makes you feel guilty for what you have done or who you have been. In short, he is just another accessory to help you feel good about yourself, and nothing more.

And this attitude leads to a lot of confusion, hurt feelings on your part, and frustration with this faith we call Christianity, because the first thing you do when you get in a jam is start praying to the image of Jesus you created. You will cry to him, beg him, and demand of him that he fix whatever issues you are facing in your life, and when he does nothing you resent the fact that he failed you.

But, really, what else did you expect? You denied him the power and the right to be life changing force in your world the minute you stripped him of his true identity. You rejected his holiness, you told him he had no right to be hurt by your actions, and you flat out refused to allow any room for him to be a just God when you said that all he was allowed to be was love, acceptance, and tolerance for you decisions.

You see, God has a funny way of giving you exactly what you asked for. The problem was you weren’t smart enough to know what it is you requested. You asked for a god who was too small to move against you and your sinful desires and a god that powerless is too weak to move against the other evils of this world. Congratulations on winning such a useless prize. I hope you enjoyed it.

The second statement: “I consider myself to be a Christian.” Good for you, I consider myself to be an octopus, and yet nothing about me conforms to the definition of this beast. Are you still sure you are a Christian or is that just lie you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?

Third statement: “I know the Bible says it is wrong, but I believe that God understands.” Okay, I will give you this one, God does understand. He understands that you are lazy, selfish, and undisciplined enough to think that giving up whatever you are hanging onto would cost you more than the agony he endured on the cross. He understands that you have placed your desires above his and in doing so declared that you are smarter, wiser, and more enlightened than he is. He gets it he really does, because you are not the first being to say this to him. Just check out Ezekiel 28 and see how that worked out for the first one to say such things to him.

But that kind of Jesus sounds so judgmental, and the guilt! Surely a God who loves me doesn’t want to me to feel guilty all the time. God wants me to feel good about myself because he loves me, and he accepts me as I am. Such are the counter arguments, I am told.

What people don’t realize they are telling me when they make those statements is that they have never been in love and maybe they have never experienced love. Love, real love, never leaves you as it finds you, and it does not condone or support you hurting yourself. Real love is bold enough to call you out on your self-destructive behavior, and it will risk hurting your feelings, even losing you for a season, if that is what takes to make you realize what you are doing to yourself – and God’s love is real! It is bold and full of courage, and love like that inspires us to a courage to face ourselves as we could not do on our own.

When our love for God does not inspire us to place absolute trust in him, when we think that our excuses for sin are greater than his command, and when we act as if God should be content to allow us to continue as we are and never seek something greater for ourselves than we can create without him, then we are not acting in love, we are not acting in faith, but rather we are lying to ourselves and to the world. Love changes us. If there is no change, then we have not known love no matter how much we may protest, and if you have not known love than you have not known God.

Should I Have Been Nice? - An Emily Rant

I am supposed to act like this.

The other day I got a phone call from someone who wanted to comment on my one of my posts. His words were sweet and encouraging, full of praise and support for “dealing with life’s harder issues.” You would think that this sort of thing would make me happy, but the truth is the longer he prattled on the more irritated I became. He explained to me why he never commented, liked or shared any of my writings. He didn’t want to give people the wrong idea about him or that he might be dealing with any of the issues I address in my posts, but he sure did want to bless and encourage me, just not publicly.

I think it was about the eighth time he said, “thank you for being brave enough to take on these issues” that my unruly mouth slipped its leash, and I heard myself say, “I’m glad one of is.” Needless to say, the conversation was soon over.

When I feel like this!

I know. I know. I was more than just a bit rude, and I shouldn’t have been. There were far more tactful ways to deal with what his words were stirring up inside of me. My problem is I usually only remember that after I have spouted off something less than kind. Believe me, I am working on it, but give me a little grace because it is a work in progress. And if I want to be real honest, I will admit that it probably always will be.

I have been thinking about the conversation a lot, wondering why it made me mad and wondering how I could have handled it better. So far this is what I have come up with:

I started dealing with “life’s harder issues” at time when my marriage was imploding. My ex-husband’s addiction to pornography had reached epic levels, leaving him unable to hold down a job as it interfered with his viewing schedule. I had ceased to exist as woman in his eyes and was considered to be just another obstacle between him and what he really desired. The verbal and emotional abuse was escalating to physical and sexual, and death fantasies became my favorite escape – his or mine, I didn’t care.

The great thing about reaching this level is other people’s opinions no longer matter. Societal constraints become nothing more than spider webs to be slapped aside.

So I started asking questions, contradicting statements, and generally being rude. I would be lying if I said I didn’t find a certain amount of entertainment in people’s shock, but the truth is I wasn’t doing it for that. There were so many truths I need to know if I was ever to return to the land of the living as something other than a shell of a person, and even though I thought I was ready to check out of this world there has always been some part of me ready for a fight. And it soon became apparent that I was in the fight of my life.

The funny thing about questions is that if you want to know the answer there is a pretty good chance that half the people you know want to know the same thing, but just haven’t worked up the nerve to say the words out loud.  It didn’t take long before women started approaching me off to the side, with nervous glance to make sure that no one could overhear. They told me about how their husbands used porn, how there had been violence in their homes, how they had been given the same “stay married and pray” advice I had received, and how they felt like there was no one willing to talk about these things because it was all just too uncomfortable in the church setting.

However, it didn’t make everyone happy with me. I learned from a friend that when she started attending the church I was that she had been warned about me. I learned from another friend that it was thought I had drug problem, and I heard from a third that I caused my husband’s addiction to porn because I had emasculated him with my sharp mouth. Christians can be so sweet.

Every day now, I receive emails, text, and messages over social media from women and men who are facing the same issues I did. They have the same questions I asked and they are facing the same stony faced silence or that condescending “we will just pray for you, dear” attitude I got. I hear from people whose faith is being eroded by Christians who are misrepresenting God and how he responds to our problems. I talk to abuse victims who are terrified of the shame and stigma that comes with divorce. I talk to women who are experts at hiding bruises and men who are terrified of losing everything if the truth comes out so they never seek the help they need except through a stranger who happened to write a book.

Guys and gals, I do not have this covered! There is only one of me and so many of you! The conversations are icky and uncomfortable – you try talking to a 70+ year old man about his chronic masturbation problem, I know!  I have been there. You have try having a pastor contact you on how to deal with a woman in his church who has shown up multiple times with a black eye or swollen lip, or answer a 12 year old’s question about anal sex. I do it all the time, but not because I am an expert. The only thing I have going for me is the fact I lived through my hell and came out the other side scrapping for answers.

I get frustrated and angry that we have become so ashamed of this gift of sexuality that God has given us. My blood pressure boils when I hear some pat and cliché answer proffered to someone who is real need, and I get so tired of being shushed by those who are embarrassed to speak truth into other’s lives. God never did that to anyone! He was bold and truthful. Jesus didn’t look at the lepers or the man at the pool, pat their heads and say, “I’ll pray for you.” He acted and he acted in truth and love – and love without truth is no better than a dollar sympathy card.

Pawning off our responsibility to follow in Jesus’ example is crock and a coward’s way out of what we have been called to be. Expecting someone else to deal with the harder issues of life so we can avoid them is laziness, and the next time you feel tempted to avoid a few words that make you uncomfortable, I hope you remember the cross and humiliation washes over you until you choke.

Could I be a little nicer? Should I have been a little nicer to the man on the phone? Maybe, but maybe too many of us are worshipping “nice” when we should have been worshipping God.

Disturbing Bible Stories - Asking The Hard Questions

If you study your Bible very long one of the things that you will find is there are certain stories that can be rather disturbing. Stories that can make you wonder how well you understand this person we call God, and even some that can make you wonder if we really know Him at all.

For me one of those stories is the story of Uzzah. Many of us don’t remember the name, but most of us know his tale. He was one of the men who was trying to return the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. He was following the orders of his king, when the wagon transporting the Ark hit a bump in the road and the Ark began to topple, Uzzah did what I think anyone of us would do. He put his hand out to save the Ark, and God struck him dead.

As a child, this story really bothered me, and when I would ask people, “Why?” The answers were never satisfying. It just did not make sense to me that he would be punished for trying to do the right thing. Okay, sure, David was going about it all wrong. He messed up royally, no pun intended, but Uzzah was just following orders, doing what the man in charge had instructed him to do. It wasn’t his fault that David got it wrong, and I kept seeing myself in Uzzah’s place. As the one who had to do what they were told, who saw a disaster in the making and tried to stop it, and still got in trouble.

Even as I got older, it still bugged me. How does this happen? How can a person be punished for trying to do the right thing? It didn’t seem just or loving. It didn’t line up with my understanding of who God is. So I tried to ignore the story. It is easier that way, just act like the hard parts of the Bible don’t exist, and presto, your theology can remain simple, easy, and comfortable.

The thing is you don’t learn when you do that. Failing to ask the hard questions means you never get the great answers. Sure the process may hurt, and you may find that some of the things you once believed about God need to be reevaluated, tweaked, or even scrapped. It’s okay. It doesn’t mean God is any less God. It means you are growing up. Just like when we stop to consider our parents as adults and not simply as a child. They are still our parents, but we can begin to appreciate more of who they are.

Even later in life when I returned to the story, I began to see some things I had missed before. One of those things was Uzzah wasn’t a nobody. He wasn’t some ignorant worker who did not know better. The Ark had been kept at his father’s house, so he probably already knew a thing or two about how it should be treated. He had been chosen to be close to the Ark, a position of honor, probably for this very reason. So this leaves us with the question, if he knew so much, why did he allow the king to make such a horrendous mistake?

Why didn’t he speak up? Remind David of the proper protocol, refuse to be involved when he saw things were not being done according to God’s will? Was he seduced by the honor offered by the king? Was he worried about offending David? Or did he hope that good intentions would be sufficient?

Now when I read the story, I wonder when in my life have I been Uzzah? Willing to cut corners, go with the flow, or hide behind the excuse “I was only doing what I was told”? Have I ever been bought off by recognition and honor, because I let myself believe that good intentions made up for disobedience? Or am I just being lazy or fearful?

We will all be confronted with times when someone will ask us to do something we know isn’t right. In that moment we will have to decide whether the prestige of such request outweighs our reverence for the things of God. In my life, I pray that I am willing to speak up, or decline to be involved, when I face these times. I pray that I have the grace to do it with compassion and mercy but with a firmness of conviction that will not allow me to be swayed from my intent to honor the King.

It isn’t always easy. People don’t always respond well to being corrected, and sometimes in our fervor people can be irritated by those they believe stand in their way. We can lose out on the perks, be seen as trouble makers, and even shunned by people who fail to understand our hearts. And make no mistake, it can hurt, but Uzzah lost his life because he kept quiet. He died because he failed to take a stand. I don’t want to be that person.

And as someone who is in leadership, I would hope that my people would speak up. Correct me if they see that I am wrong. David grieved over Uzzah’s death, as a good leader should. His purpose of returning the symbol of God’s glory to people was delayed, and he had to stand before his people aware that he had failed them as a leader. Everyone knew that he shared in the responsibility to for Uzzah’s death. That is just one place I never want to be.

So let Uzzah’s story be reminder, there are times to find our backbone, use our voice, and share our knowledge. And there are times when we need to hear from those in our lives that may know something we don’t. It really could be a matter of life or death.