Leap of Faith

The upheaval Chelsea and I experienced invaded every area of our lives. Coming to grips with the reality of my past began to give me joy and freedom in ways I’d never known. I found an understanding of my identity being made new and whole.

Now I wake up next to a woman who loves every part of me. I can look over at them napping on a Sabbath snooze and see she is sleeping soundly, Naomi along with her. Chelsea holds her close as she should, and does not let her get far from her side. Their bond grows every day, and I see my wife finding herself content.

Chelsea had spent so much of her life growing bored and dissatisfied in her work as an RN, longing for a different purpose, a greater fulfillment to satisfy her soul. It was not until manipulative measures for vaccines were enforced at the hospitals that her passions for truth were kindled. Once they were, Chelsea could not help but seek out the reasons for the corruption and control being implemented in the big Pharma so called “Health Care System.” Over time Chelsea’s desires for the ways of the worldly system faded and she began to deeply desire a peculiar and set-apart life. Even before we were pregnant with Naomi, Chelsea had wanted to leave the workforce and to fully pursue the fun and challenges of being a mother and wife. In many ways though I hindered my wife’s pursuit of her calling. I allowed fear into my marriage and our finances for many years. I had not developed child like faith that God would provide. I had feared for so long what would happen the day we lost her income, but sitting here now, watching her hold Naomi all my fears melt away.

I had spent so long worrying about where the money would come from. The loss of her income was far more than double what I could make in the mental health field, but I had faith The Father would somehow provide. We were eager to obey The Father’s Instructions on how the family unit was supposed to be set up, and Chelsea had grown tired of working within the modern medical field, where the emphasis was on big business sick care and not cures, treatment, or remedies.

My employer granted me the ability to take two weeks of paternity leave, and just as it was drawing to an end, my work held a meeting informing us that many people were going to be losing their jobs. Promises were made that those who were in the room had secure jobs. I left excited I’d be heading back to work shortly. Two days later, my phone rang. The CEO of the company called to say he was going to be letting me go. For reasons I won’t yet go into there was much more Family retribution and meddling involved. It was the last thing I’d expected, but I trusted that if The Father had allowed me to go into this situation, I had faith He would see us through.

As I write this, I find myself wanting to sugar coat what our lives looked like at that moment in time. I want to try to paint a prettier picture than what reality was. Rather than try to save face for the sake of my pride, I’ll be honest with you all in a way that makes me nervous.

The truth is that aspects of my personalities, which had always performed our jobs and did the working, were not yet being aided by the increase of healing sessions we’d been going through. I no longer could compartmentalize my trauma into the different personalities like I’d done my whole life. Even while I was going through the restoration process over the previous six months, I could switch from the parts of my personality who were dealing with the pain, the trauma, the hurt, and the anger to my worker personality and do what I needed to do. However, once one begins the process of integration and restoration, the ability to continue to do this diminishes.

No longer did I have the “freedom” of having my traumas stuffed into the various compartments of my soul. Instead, the memories were present regardless of which personality was up. The grief of loss would be present when I woke up and leave me weeping for hours at a time. I was reliving torments no person should have to endure; though the emotions were buffered, they still flowed freely. The sensitivity and vulnerability I was experiencing left me in a messy state. I couldn’t function – not like an average person.

The retribution of my family was at its highest, the spiritual wars were constant, and it took everything I had just to get up and face the day, knowing the challenges we’d meet. It is in this season of healing and integration where survivors are most often abandoned, forced to quit and turn back to the old ways to endure. Old addictions and old patterns of destructive behaviors can claw their way back in as the support system they had begins to crumble.

I understand messy people are not the most pleasant to be around. I know it is exhausting and hard to hear about people’s traumas or abuse, but if you are someone who is entrusted with one of these most precious individuals, it is for an extraordinary purpose. To feel safe or loved enough even to be willing to deal with the trauma is a mountain of a battle. For someone to finally be willing to talk about their experiences or abuse is tremendous. Once they begin to do this, it is so critical that people establish healthy and appropriate boundaries of support for them.

I am not suggesting that everyone become a therapist, a counselor, or anchor of support to each survivor. What I am suggesting is that you prayerfully consider what the ways are that you can be part of the answer to this wounded one’s needs. Would you be able to commit to praying every other day for this person or their family? Would you be able to meet with them once a week, taking them to get lunch, reminding them you care about them and are there for them? Would you be willing to help support them financially if they are unable to work? Could you pay for one of their counseling sessions or buy them some groceries so they can eat? Maybe you can help them research their past in order to help them understand more of what happened to them. One of the best things you can do is listening, caring, and choosing not to run from them. Do not run from them or hide from them when they are as vulnerable as this. This is the time to reinforce their support system, not pick it apart. The challenges survivors face during this first and most intense portion of healing are the most critical. For excellent information on this topic see David and Donna Carrico’s book From Victims to Victors Through the Cross of Jesus Christ or their website www.ritualabusefree.org

The retribution they are facing for being “offline” with their handler, controllers, or former families is at its most intense. The support system becomes the target of these individuals because they know that if they can convince people to leave the Survivor, to abandon them, it will in most cases cause them to re-engage and reconnect with the puppet masters of their past. My Family eradicated so much of our support system during this time and once my job was taken, so too was our ability to survive apart from the generosity and blessing of others.

This is the part I want to skip over, the part where I was in some ways a mess, barely able to walk, go to the store, or pick up the ringing phone. It was a time when I knew I could not go and provide for my family. At the same time, Naomi got sick. She had a digestion problem that did not allow her the ability to break down Chelsea’s breast milk. Naomi was miserable, fussy and unable to be comforted unless she was moving. In order to help keep her from crying or to try to get her some sleep, Chelsea consoled her by nursing her and holding her day and night. Many, many tears were shed during this time: hers, Naomi’s, and my own. The spiritual oppression peaked as we neared the unholy high days surrounding Halloween.

Some friends of ours we’d met at the Hear The Watchmen conference had been tremendously supporting us by giving us a 0% interest loan so we could pay off our high interest credit card debt and by enabling much of our move to a single income. With my job taken, I was forced to try and use that money towards food, mortgage, and utilities. This was not really in line with the reasons for the agreement we’d had with them, and it was clear they were not comfortable with this. We could never have endured so much of that early season of healing without their support, but without the continuity of the money, Chelsea and I were left without other options.

I’d like to tell you I mustered up my strength, I pulled on my bootstraps, and just got it done. I want to say I went and started working three jobs and did what I needed to do to pay for my sick daughter and wife to survive. I’d like to tell you I wasn’t tempted to slip back into The Underworld and “earn my keep.” I would like to say that somehow, I was better than I was. But I wasn’t. I knew my weaknesses, and Chelsea helped me to trust in Yahweh during this time even when familiar fear came crawling up my spine.

I chose to have belief in my Creator. Even when the Familial offers of prostituted redemption came in, I chose to say no. I chose to have my wife, daughter, and me be free from controllers whose money dripped with blood. I chose poverty instead of plenty, and I knew the little we had in freedom and love would be more delicious than abundance earned through thieving, manipulation, and deceit. (Prov. 17) The truth is that we saw The Lord God provide for His children. We saw that there is a greater family than the one I’d forsaken; it comes not through manipulation but through choice and humility. Over the next few months, we got to see Him help stir up other people around us who intervened and became living miracles.

No one we knew and trusted had the ability or willingness just to pay all our bills, but no part of The Body was ever meant to serve all its functions. We had some pay our mortgage one month, and we had others bring over bags of groceries with hugs and laughter. It was not the wealthy who had multiple six or seven-figure earning jobs who stepped in, but instead, it was a passionate man who lived in a van who shared a meal in our home and left an envelope of cash as he went, and a middle-aged over worked teacher who paid our mortgage.

It was so hard for me to live like this. I had to unlearn much of the ways I’d once used to survive, one of the greatest of which was hiding the truth of our situation from outsider’s eyes. To help me learn to be free, The Redeemer would help me to learn to be vulnerable with people and be willing to show the truth of our brokenness and need. As bills pressed upon us like nooses on our necks, I finally relented and humbled myself enough to ask our church for help. It was not an easy conversation, and the application process was tremendous, as our church had many steps to walk through before relief was offered, but in one fell swoop of generosity, they paid every bill we had that month. It was a tapestry of miracles woven with prayers answered by manna, water from the rocks, and clothing, which didn’t wear out.

Chelsea and I were wandering in The Wilderness, but The Most High God provided what we needed. It was not more than we needed; some bills were left unpaid, the food we’d prepared for the end of the world became dinner on our plates and breakfasts in the morning. We sold anything we could: Chelsea found things at the thrift store and flipped them on eBay to pay our insurance bill one month and groceries for a week. I took knives I’d spent hours customizing with holsters, and survival equipment I’d used for expeditions, and sold them to keep our water and electricity on for thirty days. All of this bought us the freedom to go through a more intense and accelerated path to integration and healing. It also gave us the ability to start ministering to others who were in need.

Soon I was able to start connecting with other survivors who were just beginning to come out of the cults and covens they’d become ensnared by. This led to more intense spiritual warfare and other assassination attempts on Chelsea and me, but it also led to greater freedom for beloved wounded ones. It was the craziest and most intense time of our lives. Chelsea and I weren’t sure it was ever going to end. There was no way to know where the next month’s money was going to come from, but we did learn one place it was not. After the interview process with our church, they made sure to make it abundantly clear that they would only help people out in this way one time. They had instituted corporate policies to keep from becoming continual providers to the needy. As such they were going to be able to provide us no further assistance.

We did not have other people to turn to or ask, so with no other options, I humbled myself again and went and stood in the government benefits line. I joined the ranks of people who for their reasons stood in line with their needy hands extended. There was not a church for me to turn to, there was no fleshly kinsman redeemer in my life, so I did what I needed to and made sure my wife and daughter were fed. The benefits provided to us would give us four months: four months of food, four months of mortgage and utilities paid, but that would be it. It was a miracle still that we did not earn, and for that we were grateful. It was the first time Chelsea and I had ever gone on benefits, but I suppose that’s why they are there. I can’t sit here now and complain for pages and pages on how this is supposed to be where The Church provides but the reality is they can’t.

Our churches have not taught their congregations how to manage money, how to be entrepreneurs and critical thinkers, or how to be debt free. Our pastors are often in more debt than most of the congregation because the buildings, property, and their lack of financial independence have swept the real legs of support right out from under them.

As its been written,

“The borrower is always a slave to the lender.” (Prov. 22)

God’s economy as outlined in His Instructions was not to be built on debt, slavery, and wage work, but upon an entirely different system of labor and freedom. God had even worked into His Feasts one in which the tithe or the offerings of the body were to be given wholly unto the poor, the orphans, and the widows. (Deut. 16) Another part was meant to be kept, meant for us to enjoy and fund our celebration of The Biblical celebrations and Feasts. The business-minded and corporately controlled church though does not have the freedom to give their tithes away; the expenses must be covered first before the needy can get their help.

It is because of this that the needy are forced to look to government systems, which have their own cost to provide for their needs. They must turn to the same government who seals their private, Family owned promissory debtors notes with Osiris’s All Seeing Eye. It is a broken system, one which has a tremendous cost. Without it, though, I’m not sure what Chelsea and I would have done. We were in need, and they became part of the answer to coming out of bondage and into freedom instead.

Chelsea and I were able to take care of Naomi, and with this consistent money coming in; I was able to focus more on my healing. Over those next few months, I began to have an invigorating passion, empowering peace, and restoration. Soon the only thing left lingering keeping me from fully functioning was my physical body pain and Naomi’s sickness.

Into this moment came a blessing that would change the path of Chelsea’s and my future. With it would come freedom from pain, healing for our daughter, and financial freedom, which did not require a 9-to-5 job.

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