Chapter Nineteen: The Pen or the Sword?
I cannot bring myself even to write what comes next. The pain of loss is so high, and the viciousness of the threats and cannot bring myself even to write what comes next. The pain the manipulation is beyond measure. Only those who have lost their families or closest friends can imagine the brutal feelings of betrayal and loss. No matter how much my dad tried to manipulate me back into his hand, I would not bow to silence, and I could not speak their lies.
I refused to stop speaking The Secrets, and my dad knew he had lost control of his Family asset. He was no longer my master; I refused ever again to be his slave. I would not bow to his demands, and I rejected to yoke myself to his Family’s wicked ways anymore. He could not stand it; never had I refused his requests and much less his orders. He had counted on the fact that he could destroy me if I ever got out of control. The weapon he’d so meticulously controlled for nearly thirty years was now making his own decisions. He could not allow that, so my dad played his ace. He played the cards he was confident would destroy both me and the legs of support I’d finally found.
But pride blinds. Bowing your knees at trapezoidal altars of illumination will bind you to the pride of the rebellious god called Helel the Son of Shahar. The pride in my father’s illumined eyes was a light of deception, and he could never have imagined how wrong he would be.
Though they tried to destroy the most consistent place of love I had in my relationship with Chelsea, they could not. No amount of manipulations by my Family members could convince Chelsea to divorce me. They pulled out all the stops: they targeted her family members, our former pastors, churches, counselors, and even old co-workers. The Family’s expertise is in fear, control and manipulation, and they did their best to work the fields around me. They were relentless, and the lies that poured from their mouths were mountains of accusations craftily designed to scare our supporters away. When people get desperate, they tend to make mistakes. The desperation of my Family to regain control caused them to make a mistake that would finally separate us from their controlling clutches for good.
I had struggled for some time leading up to the decision about whether or not to completely sever ties with my Family, but soon they forced my hand. It happened when one of my Family members, threatened Naomi Grace. In the midst of that summer, before she was born, as I refused to stop speaking The Secrets, they sent us a message saying, Nate, for the sake of your daughter reconcile with The Family.
They should never have threatened my unborn daughter. I expected them to intimidate me, to coerce me and control me, but the day someone threatened my daughter, an entirely different set of protocols begins. They had exposed themselves and the master they chose to serve. Their Seminary sanctified Christian masks had been peeled back to show their true nature.
A dangerous and well-used plumb line had been drawn in the sand. On one side was a family who chose freedom for their children no matter the cost, and on the other were the controllers, manipulators and those who steal the innocence from their sons and daughters. No matter the underhand offers of power, fame and financial freedom, I would never allow them access to my daughter. This is the crux of this entire situation; it came down to Naomi Grace.
Children are not to be born outside The Family’s direct oversight. Generation upon generation has given its children over to The Family’s demands and never stepped one step outside of this plan. The fury my father and especially his military handlers had was steeped in his denial of this generational requirement. Who was I to refuse their demands and wishes? I had been theirs, and for so long I’d been their successful pet project. However, their collar of control no longer held me captive; instead it fueled my flight to freedom. The scars on my body and Secrets in my mind were constant reminders that Naomi never needed to spend a day of her life in The Underworld. She was not made for their manipulative shackles and control; she was created for freedom, faith, and the joys of an abundant life.
I started my resistance by changing my phone number and ended all communications with them. They had made their decision, and I had made mine. They had chosen to keep their vile deeds buried, and I had decided to expose them to the light of all. Even still, my grandfather traveled across state lines and came into town to try to initiate my daughter, as he loves to do with the new grandchildren.
My father, unfortunately, beguiled my sisters, and even after I warned them about what grandpa does with little children, they still hosted The Family Brute and chose to let him and other Family members have access to their many, many children.
Chelsea and I continually thank The Father that He helped me wake up to these realities before Naomi came into this mad world. Before that, the plan had always been to have The Family members present at the birth of Naomi. God alone spared me from placing my innocent first-born daughter into the hands of monsters.
Instead, Chelsea and I kept the time of her natural birth a secret and had incredibly well trained and well-armed protectors on site to ensure our peace of mind at that most vulnerable time.
As terrible as that summer may have been, it was worth it. Looking into Naomi’s eyes for the first time, Chelsea and I cried beyond tears of relief. We wept holding the miracle of life entrusted to us for such a time as this. We knew then that no matter what we’d endured and what would still come, nothing could keep us from letting Naomi develop into the woman she was made to be.
Naomi Grace may not know it today or understand it for many years to come, but she is the first child born free in many generations. For thousands of years, children born into these Bloodlines have been taken into the flames of control, chaos, and death. The Redeemer snatched me from those fires long after they’d burned much of my body and soul to a char. In time I have faith He would heal all those wounds, but the most exceptional power comes when our children are spared from those flames altogether and shown freedom instead. Naomi will never have to taste the torment that so many millions endure at night. She will never be forced down the dark path of perversion as I had. She will be free to choose who she will become. To help her understand the importance of that choice, I wrote her a deadly letter, some of which I will share with you in hopes that many other daughters will read it, as well as sons and fathers and mothers.