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Re:Born this way

Authored by Yolanda Jean Watts

List Price: $6.88

6" x 9" (15.24 x 22.86 cm) 
Black & White on White paper
88 pages

ISBN-13: 978-1500434625 (CreateSpace-Assigned)
ISBN-10: 1500434620
BISAC: Body, Mind & Spirit / Inspiration & Personal Growth

Regarding, Born this Way...This book tells the journey of a woman, without a name, who testifies of an enemy without a face. Through this journey, readers will be better able to understand the road that many whose sexual identity has untold problems attached with it. The devil is in the details, literally. Yet, God is at the helm of all human issues. This book is not about “apples and oranges” when it comes to discussing sexuality in contortion with spirituality. It has a more relevant depth to it that is remarkably encapsulated to evoke a spiritual influence when it comes to sexuality. Homosexuality, alone, is neither a cause nor a curse; but an effectual working of spirits in which there is no man-made cure. This book offers revelation that lets homosexuals know that faith determines their outcomes in life, not fate. Further exploration is likely needed to convince society that the choice is up to the individual to conclude if they are born this way, or not.

INTRODUCTION

Truth flows from the pages of the Word of God in such a way that only thru diligent exploration will one be able to find the guidance they are seeking.  It is there to be found, however, in the underlining parables, proverbs, and psalms that were written long ago.  The entire depth of wisdom that the Holy Bible contains is immeasurable, not to be duplicated by any other written work. 

Surfacing is an issue based on the fact that God assessed everything as “good.”  This would include creating men and women in His own image.  For centuries, and beyond, there has been a stringent belief about homosexuality, implying that God is an enemy of persons of this persuasion.  The record needs to be set straight on several issues on the subject as absolutely no one can speak for God on this topic.  Instead, let us allow His Word to speak for itself.

How does the homosexual, and others born with sexual anomalies, remotely fit into His design?  Perhaps they do not seemingly fit because God did not necessarily blueprint this model for them, or author it.  While at the same time, He permitted its inception. You may ask yourself how this works exactly.

 Well, the Garden of Eden is where it all started, and ended, whereas all of our human rights became wholly violated. Mankind had become vulnerable to aspects within his nature that would never have been natural, on all points, otherwise.  Our Father knew of two entities, referred to as trees, which were present in the Garden.  He said, “The tree of life was also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil,” (Genesis 2:9).  It is why He also said, “But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die,” in Genesis 2:17. 

God was well aware of a cunning enemy which He did not want any of us to know about or have to deal with.  God did not want Adam or Eve exposed to this unleashed evil on the same level as His own personal awareness was.  Adam and Eve were given the sole privilege to be in a place where everything was utopias.  What was granted to them had been especially planned as a paradise for them.  Why would they even want to know of evil?  Why go there?  Did they not know what evil was vicariously?  Were they not aware?  For sure, God does not reveal to us everything at once. But, He tells us what we need to know, when we need to know it.  Dealing with us on a need to know basis. 

       ~The crumbs of His wisdom are hard to grasp~

Now, in the Garden scenario, Adam and Eve had readily eaten the fruit that is sweet (good), in order to ingest the sweetness of it, as if the (evil) poison part would escape ingestion.  This brand of ‘fruit,’ described as good, yet is also evil, should peak one’s suspicion, not their appetites.  Ordinarily, most would reject the idea of eating food (i.e. poisonous berries, poisonous mushrooms) that could potentially kill you, regardless if it supposedly “makes one wise.”  It’s akin to eating arsenic laced cookies; each cookie that is eaten is inviting and delicious, until you die. 

       ~Physically, they did not die right away~

                                                    

The taking of the fruit, hints to an astute analogy that took place here.  It was not so much the eating of the fruit, as it was the evil injected against God in suggesting that He was withholding something of value from them.  What God was, in fact, trying to withhold was the corruption of Satan’s consumptive ways from them.  The signets intended to create suspicion, distrust, and slander against God was the bigger error.  In truth, God was desperately pleading with Adam and with Eve,

“Wait!  Don’t eat that!” 

“Don’t fall for the lies this enemy of mine tells you!”

           “It may look good enough to eat (meaning, his doctrine),

            but it’s not!”

b

 Another aspect to consider is that God created everything in good faith, by design.  He did not intend to create a robotic colony of enamored creatures that would simply blindly obey, so to speak.  In other words, God gave man a charge, set it all up for our complete success, and watched while rooting for us to lead our own destiny.  He did not expect for man to fall.  God’s expectations are exceptionally higher than that. 

        

    ~But we did it anyway, we did fall!~ 

 Even today, we sometimes proclaim whenever duped by another,   with excuses that fail us, 

“I can’t believe I fell for that.”

“What had happened was. . .”   

Clearly evident is the subtlety of the “father of lies” when he first planted himself in their midst, hanging around, waiting for an opportunity to weave his web.  Satan’s play on words cost us our glory, and vanity fixed our fallen states as people of the earth.  How could we ever recover from this on our own?  How could we undo the ‘do’ when the only offset that would suffice was a redo of the situation? 

 In answer to this dilemma, a wholly new man (new creature) would be formed who would also plant himself in our midst, hanging around, waiting for a precise opportunity to set us free with the Good News from our Creator. Words from the Lord.  Jesus Christ (Yeshua) is called the Word for a reason, where it says about Him, “In the beginning was the Word.”  Gratefully, He brings a good word of hope and reconciliation (this means friendship) with the Father.

b

Most of us are familiar with how the story of Adam and Eve conceivably ended.  In case anyone missed the ending, the real ending, Satan loses.  According to Jesus’ own account in Luke 10:18, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven” because it so happens that He was there, on that day, with His Father. 

And where do you think that Satan landed?  How about, he landed right in the midst of the Garden.  In fact, it does not matter which one of us came into being as the first male and female.  It could have been Adam and Eve.  It could have been you.  It could have been me.  One thing is sure, once Satan was cast down to the earth, all-out war was officially declared!  As it was so in heaven, now it is so on earth. This history of warfare is well documented:  Lucifer’s initial mistake was in challenge to God; in that, he presumed he was just as worthy of adoration as due God.  His bias to the notion of possessing unique beauty and form, as well as his high ranking position as archangel, clouded Lucifer’s judgment—this being his only claim to fame.  Here was this lone wolf of a creature who wanted other created beings to direct their eyes toward him while taking their eyes off of God, A.K.A. Creator. 

He chose it.  He authored it.  And he must own it—that is to say, his pride.  And with that he acquired his new title as Satan (Adversary of God).  What audacity!  What conceit!   First he lied to himself in thinking that he had merited the honor of glory, which was a great sin by the way.  Then he lied to us.  But before he deceived Eve and Adam together, the two of them actually did have the upper hand.  For they were the only ones in charge and the only ones given full authority and dominion of the earth where Satan and his cronies were banished.  They knew this.  This was not hidden from them.  Satan knew too.  He wanted to steal it from their hands.  And he eventually did.  No one knows how long this effort might have taken though it is written as if it took a ‘hot minute’ to make such a ‘hot mess’ of this age.

Early childhood Years

A lot of miles have been traveled to get here.  Life happens for a reason.  And no matter what, it’s good to be here.  Alive and able to tell what happened.  We all have this testimony in us that can explain how we survived and overcame; and are yet surviving and overcoming. 

She remembers yesterday.  And remembers.  And remembers still.  Compare trying to live in today’s light, while constantly thinking about yesterday’s looming shadow.  How the shadow looms.

 Recounting almost every subtlety—natural and spiritual—working simultaneously throughout her life.  Able to tune into the airwaves of both of these realms as each attributed daunting effects on her while growing up from a small child into adulthood.

b

She was born July 8, 1965 at Chicago Lying-In Hospital.  She knew very little about her father.  Vaguely recalling grapevine gossip from front porch conversations and from the kitchen table of chatty women, she believes he wore a military uniform.  She is doubtful as to his engaging in any real combat.  He might have been a cook or something like that.  He states some of this personally himself; such as, upon his return of duty in the early, early sixties, he recalls meeting and dating her mom and how this quickly led to marriage.  And how a baby would eventually be born, of course.  A baby girl, ready for the world! 

On the other hand, her mother was not as ready for motherhood, nor did the world care that a new bundle of joy had arrived.  A baby girl was born just the same, with a spirit and a will to live, no matter how broken. 

       ~Life from birth was twenty-four, long hours a day ~

Speaking about it with her father later on in life, after the precious years had fluttered away, her father memorably talked about only the pleasant things he chose to remember.  He exuberantly described the wife of his youth as a very beautiful and smart woman.  He surmised that this was not a shared belief on her part, as his bride did not believe herself to be neither beautiful nor smart.   Low self-esteem. 

Continuing with his dialogue, joyfully reminiscing on lighthearted things, the nickname that he used to call his firstborn baby girl comes up.  He smiles dotingly; explaining how he chose the name “Twinkie” since she ate one of them just about every day.  His claim was that on most days when he came home from work in late afternoon, he would take her out and about with him, doing neighborhood stuff, strolling along to visit frequent hangouts, and that.   Always purposing to buy her a Hostess Twinkie cake before returning home. 

At first glance, to think about it did seem like good times.  Fond memories (for him).  But as she recalls it, in the here and now, this yummy snack food was meant to be used as “comfort food.”  But what had she needed comfort from?  Hmm?  Unfortunately, his little girl knows that answer today.   She needed comfort, in order to survive.  To forget.  Interpretively,

“Mommy didn’t mean it, okay?”

“Okay, mommy didn’t mean it,” parroting.

“That’s my girl.”

“Wattsmagyro,” answers back, mouth full of cake.

~Hushed abuse ~

Rejected by her mother from the beginning; unshielded by her father. He was weak from the beginning, too weak to protect her.  She supposes that he did not know what else to do (besides to show a blind eye) in order to keep this young, growing family together.  Benefit of the doubt says, perhaps he did try.  Perhaps her mother, in a brief paroxysm of humanity, was mentally stable enough to decide that they (three young children by that time) would fare better living someplace else instead of at the hands of her negligence. 

b

Listening to her father as he revisits those days ignites flashbacks of her own:  All grown up now, the day that she went away is as fresh a memory as ever:  She was happy and buoyant on this particular day only because they were “going someplace.”  It had to be on the weekend because her grandmother was at home. 

Her grandmother, ever the studious person, had a perfectly beautiful smile (although it was rationed and rarely seen). She was a woman who always worked, it seems.  She started working while in high school through a work program (another grapevine tidbit). Staying current with her career often required that she sometimes had to take this or that class to update her job skills.  So, like other days, books and random papers were spread all over the dinette table.  In another corner of the room, an overlooked piano collected a blanket coating of dust; a nicely suited accompaniment to the dust mites scurrying across the dark, wood flooring.  Add one lone sofa against the wall by the entrance door.  That’s it.  This completes the look. No pictures were up.  No décor existed.  This gave credence to the simplicity implied, such as it was. 

Running around, running around, she was.  Every now and again stopping to catch a quick breath, musing, trying to fix her lips, just right, to make them whistle like grandmother was doing.  Her grandmother went throughout the house whistling and humming and even sporting a little jig on this day.  It was her day off!  Anyhow, this upbeat mood caused a whole quarter to pass from her grandmother’s hand into her little, elated palm to go pick out a piece of fruit at the corner market.  

Gathering her senses in order not to get lost, she skipped along the way to buy the juiciest orange that she could find.  Oh yes, this was going to be a very good day!  And later on, with energy to spare, this cheery child freely ran around the house some more, jumping up and down on that forlorn sofa.  And no one yelled at her!  Not yet! 

She duly remembers peeping (pestering is more like it) in on her mother’s nearly grown, although, younger brothers while they tried to sleep in.  They looked so unseemly.  Yuck! (In toddler speech).  Sprawled in those twin-sized, bunk beds they had obviously outgrown a long time ago. 

With nothing much left to do, this little girl finally ran out of steam, just waiting.  Waiting, waiting, and waiting patiently for her mother to get ready.  So laborious.  Filling time, finding adventures out back in the yard, a bit tricky.  Better not get dirty! 

The time came when it really was time to go.  In all, this day was truly turning out to be the most childlike and normal that she had ever felt or had been allowed to feel.  Her mother, her infant and toddler brothers, and she walked to the bus stop (actually she skipped at times in order to keep pace with her mother).  When the bus came to its stop, they vigorously walked along some more.  They eventually came to a new place where she saw some unfamiliar faces.  She became acquainted (reacquainted) with relatives, namely, her great-grandmother and a few older cousins.

Suspicious, with all of this mingling, however, she dared not take her eyes off of her mother.  Watching intently.  Especially, after she became aware of the two adult women whispering, chatting loudly, followed by more whispering—sinister small talk about greens and cornbread!  All the while, this four year old child was able to discern that she and her brothers were not merely visiting.  When finally their mother left, it was without them.  No hugs.  No goodbye. 

Adolescent Years

Adolescence was a particularly vulnerable period in this young lady’s life, as in any young person’s life.  An unassuming teenager would be an accurate description.  Not particularly pretty, not popular, not poised.  Going to school, attending church with usual passivity.  The majority of waking hours engaged activities requiring the participation of only one person—herself.

 Extremely shy.  Reads a lot.  Fascinated with ancient history.  Keeps a mandatory journal with her at all times.  A self-taught seamstress, learning to sew clothes tailored to fit her 18 inch waist.  As well, she gifted needlepoint, paint-by-number oil paintings, and stitched together handmade crafts during holidays, whenever supplies could be afforded.

~Needlepoint?~

When in season, the veggies in the backyard swelled, yielding a sweet reward.  Regularly tended to, with her great-grandmother as overseer, were homegrown collard greens, red tomatoes, hot and spicy peppers, onion, and corn, each in his assigned row (no need to go to market as often as before).  There was a ‘scarecrow’ strategically placed on duty that actually attracted the very crows it was summoned to scare away.  A ready perch from which birds taunted the idle stick-man. 

In another part of the yard, a lovely flower garden blossomed, yielding a fragrant beauty. It was hedged around the side of the house facing a frontage road.   Bumblebees got fat feasting here in this part of the garden.  Butterflies and ladybugs were regular visitors here.  Honeysuckles, mums, morning glories, tulips, roses; and small, delicate white, blue, purple, yellow, orange, pink ones grew wild.  Rainbow colors. Some budded every year; others had to be replanted.  One kind only bloomed in the evening, and would close its petals during the daytime.  Wonderfully weird.

Bees, ladybugs, butterflies were plenteous. Trees, shapely bushes, plants galore. From front porch chatter, car mufflers, and kids’ laughter to cats chasing squirrels, chirping birds, and barking dogs. There was God in the midst.  Her best Friend in life, the still, small voice of God.  He remained an abiding comrade during this time as in former years.  This was a perfect meeting place in which to tune in.  Something very real and audible, outside of the physical scope of her world, provided internal comforts. This spiritual link fielded a peculiar, extraterrestrial sense, admittedly.   Even so, she welcomed it. 

In the external arena of her life there was often an overriding feeling of being upstaged (up on a stage alone).   Alone on this oceanic globe.  Perhaps too different, too strange.  Estranged.    And being amongst family, schoolmates, and others did nothing to sway these feelings.  Yet God saw fit to meet with the little garden-tender.  Nestled in the evenings there, alone. Faithful to watering, stealthily waiting for that sheepish flower to bloom.  Truly, He was the perfect Comforter.

And for some reason, local noise did not distract from this ever recognizable Voice.  Throughout the noise and within the quiet, a lot of thinking took place.  Looked as if she is staring most times, but was actually thinking things through.  She spent meditative amounts of time amid many, many questions just pelting.

Reaching puberty prompted so many of these seeking questions in heart that came and went.   Heartfelt pangs steady as rainfall would not go away.  There was a ‘Why?’ in the atmosphere for every day of the week.  Questions, sprayed with doubts, seemed to be on her mind most of the time.  Questions like,

“Why don’t I have any friends?” 

“Why am I here?” 

“Why was I placed here with this family to live?” 

“Why do I feel so down all of the time?” 

This was her norm.  And day after day, as she grew into adolescence, she wished very vividly about the day of rescue from this norm.  Naturally, immature and unable to appreciate any depth or value of having spiritual incite at that time.  It seemed to clash with society.  Being spiritually aware was ‘square.’ 

To make matters worse, she had nothing much in common with any other adolescents her age.  Straining to find something, she would often observe their apparent normalcy with an intense yearning.  Boyfriends, dating, and always chatting about the next big house party!  This was so back in the day when house parties and black lights was the place to be if you wanted to pick up any popular points with peers, or what is called street cred. 

Can’t forget about one main reason for the parties!  Sex.  Everybody was doing ‘it.’  Even the so called ‘slow kids’ on the block were ‘hooking up.’  But not she; she was a mere spectator.  Envious of them?  Not altogether. Covet a more normal life in line with her peers?  Certainly.  It seemed normal to want to be normal.  Especially, beginning to identify with the many variables of self, of choices, as an evolving adolescent. 

This quite often left a feeling of inferiority to other females as though somehow she was less than.  As if something was missing in her very make-up as a developing woman.  Often comparing herself with others, she could see that she was not the full bosomed, voluptuous type.  She scaled other young women to hold a more natural sexual prowess that, for some reason, did not come natural to her.  She remembers being the flat-chested, wall with no sense of womanhood, no matter with whom she compared herself.  Entering womanhood and the like was an eerie, inconspicuous nuance that did not allow for hampering questions, or delays. 

      ~Where was the instinct?~

Body image issues, low self-esteem, and an undetected eating disorder lay in tow.  Unaware that these symptomatic red flags even had terminology way back when.  These existential matters would prove to be key, foundational contributors toward shaping her psyche and its impending confusion, going forward. 

Flowery imagery, as seen through these gullible eyes, reveals quite the innocent intent of a heart untainted by Satan. Until.  Until that innocence is proven guilty, and that which is untainted becomes foul.  This becomes obvious later.

b

A strange thing happened one glorious summer day. It was a clear day with blue sky, fluffy white clouds, and pure sunshine.  You could say it was early morning.  You could even say it was in the middle of the day, or high noon, when the sun radiates its brightest burn of the day.  A day vision:  There she was minding her own business, standing on the bottom stair of her great-grandmother’s porch.  She stands there admiring her great-grandmother’s horticultural workmanship, which happens to be a large-potted Elephant Ear plant.   It was enormously grand with lustrous, deep-green leaves, each leaf fully extent to expose itself toward the sun’s rays.  Passersby took the time to compliment her great-grandmother for having such a green thumb almost on a daily basis.  

Young Adulthood

 This woman, that is all grown up now, sighs heavily when she gets to this part of her story.  If you were to look at the remnants of her past through any other lens, some elements appear to be normal growing pains of any human being.  Anyone, looking at the fringes, can see that hers wasn’t a silver spoon kind of life; it wasn’t a worst case scenario either.

~Everyone born suffers long~

Satan’s full agenda would peak to a boisterous crescendo, revealing what he really intended when he had set this entire array of conditions in place, against one person, against her.  Coming to a full circle (illumination), when she had turned the ripe age of twenty-two and had met her first legitimate boyfriend. 

Determined and self-sufficient.  Living on her own in her first apartment, financed by her first job, enabled by her first car.  There were many first-time crossroads and decisions to be made along the way.  And it would be the first time that she had decided to engage in a sexual relationship with this young man that she had met.  She meets him some years after she has left the ‘nest.’ 

Everything in her life went steadily initially.  She was getting along, regardless to the fact that there were no adult mentors accounted for who could have offered counsel or given good advice about some of these major ‘firsts’ beginning to take place.  What’s more, she had not learned any relevant life skills for all of eighteen years or so, under the guardianship of her great-grandmother, outside of cooking and cleaning house.  And the church that she had attended since she was eight years old proved to be too evasive in most of their views, or perhaps they were too invasive.  Either way, those Moses on the Mountain, Moses Parts the Red Sea sermonettes did not help to prepare her for the real world. 

Although, her choices were not reckless, they did hasten the upcoming troubles that were to implode later.    She was a most naïve, gullible, misinformed young lady, and on her own. 

      ~As ignorant as can be~

Exhibit A.  She was most thoughtless as it regards this first real relationship.  She knew nothing about men or relationships.  Her first date with him was a disaster in her opinion.  She thought he would not be calling on her for a second date, but he did.  On top of that, her religious, antiquated, Victorian views influenced indulgent thinking, supposing that he might be the one.  He simply had to be the one, since he was the first.  A heart led by blind religion determined this. 

Ironically, she had not heard from the still, small voice, which had been her childhood comrade, for quite some time.  For some years.  Now that she was no longer a member of the church (shunned it) and had shelved her Bible (rejected it), she did not expect to hear.  She was on a quest during this time of her life to kindle a normal, traditional relationship.  She wanted tall, dark, and handsome.  She wanted three boys and three girls like The Brady Bunch.   She wanted the white picket fence.  Sadly, this genie in a bottle approach of wishing would gain little. 

      ~Now, back to the voice~

It was a most inopportune time.  She had made the decision to say yes to the request that her boyfriend had been making for the last three months.  This was certainly not a lot of time to get to know him.  Somehow, she felt obligated.  She was afraid that he would not want to be with her anymore, especially after he made that point clear.  This was that world where she was extremely inadequate while under the veil of the church and her childhood upbringing.

      ~Welcome to Rome!~

On this night, the scene is set.  The starry skies are aligned.  The boyfriend is there; she’s there.  The lights are dim in the bedroom.  Ambiance, right?  Right.  It was more like a scene from Cooley High.  But here goes.  He sits on the bed with a come-hither look in his eye.  And ring!!!  It’s the phone.  She rarely received phone calls, and never at night.  She surmised that maybe there was a family crisis (they thrived on those). 

She could hardly believe it! It is an elder from her church, the one not attended for about two years.  It was explained how they had recently gotten hold of her contact information and how they had only called to see how she was doing.  They all chatted back and forth; first chatting with the minister and then back with his wife.  A thorough, genteel, composite on the status of every known acquaintance one could think of was reported on.  The conversation lingered until reaching an awkward pause.  As Expected, it ends with the Elder reciting a lengthy, protocol prayer.  Of course, this interruption does not work to distract the cards that had been dealt on that fateful night.  So, after she is off the phone, the couple proceeds.  He is progressive with his affections, while she is enthralled to say the least, quite impressed.  And in an instant, she hears in a clear voice:

Mind Assault Tactics

She relates the memory of the details methodically as she continues to journey through events from her life.  There had been a six year span, in all, of spiritual attacks, leading into a spiritually climactic resolve toward the end. The first three of those years will have proven to be a highly intense assault with the latter three years asserting a monumental defense against those assaults.  Satan opted to enter into what would turn out to be a lengthy trial against this young woman and was not hesitant in presenting his case.  He had a definite agenda concerning this woman in the area where she had committed fornication outside of the ordinance of marriage.  This specific, non-legal action was the primary officiant into the legal door, or opening, of her soul.  Satan continued his attacks, seeking to build upon this circumstance using his own, choice terms.  Lying spirits.  Familiar spirits.  Tormenting spirits.  By any means necessary. 

Spring boarding off of the fact that sexuality is a natural part of the DNA of each and every person that is born. Imagine the set-up to divert just this one part of a person.  Imagine the efforts made each step of the way, starting in the womb, when bone and flesh are being knit together.  Remember, Satan has accumulated generations of knowledge on how to perform this ‘exact’ science as he individually seeks to trip the sensitive, fragile, chromosomal wires of mankind. This is the ultimate spite against God’s creation, jeopardizing everything that He made “good.”

It is without a doubt that the physical, mental, emotional, or sexual anomalies that happens in-between conception and birth are a staple of Satan’s agenda against us.  Believe me when I say that he is not at all random when using these devices either.  He knows exactly the strongholds he wants to build.  In her case, the plan was to haunt—gradually adding confusion. Confusion that would hurl a major identity crisis.  A sexual identity crisis.  

      ~How vulnerable is this clay!  How easy it is to manipulate!~

Another device to exacerbate this crisis would be his expertise at manipulating societal systems.  There are many excerpts in the Bible that supports this statement of Satan’s possessing “prince of the air” abilities to dominate masses of people.  His influence can cause people to chant things like, “Crucify Him, crucify Him.”  People, historically, participate in protests without questioning why they are doing it.

For three years, she battled a mental breakdown.  A mental breakdown battled she. Within the first three years of having a sexual relationship as mentioned before, conditions changed.  Former happy homemaker, vanilla field of dreams, fantastical fantasies, were overturned and displaced with dire straits. Roaring recitals remained a constant aim against her mind.  She could not escape her own bandied thoughts.  A bombardment of another kind began to infiltrate her mind and soul.  Her thought’s betrayal shaved off convincing epithets, trying to make her accept what she did not believe.  She endured three years of this psychological agony. 

      ~On top of being poor, black, rejected…now this~

A contrary, lying voice viciously attacked on all sides (Pandora’s Box is a hellish entrée to have happen to anyone).  With the hedge that had been her protection now removed, there was no safety net to guard her mind.  There was no shield for her faith.  A minister once said that the devil is not interested in your flesh since the flesh perishes.  The devil is more interested in your mind.  He wants your mind.  And he definitely wanted her mind.

b

Each day that the sun did rise, she arose with it only to be greeted with a surge of attacks within.  She tried to endure, stunned and only able to shake her head in dismay most of the time.  She would incline to speaking to herself, repeating over and over, and over again,

“Why me?” 

No answer of comfort came to soften the blows.  This was the beginning of woes.  Every day became exactly the same as the day before it—filled with dread, confusion, fear, anger, and deepening darkness.  A mind storm howled.  It was bad.  Wondering, she did not know if she had simply eluded her own self for all of these years.  Every emotion pours from her soul like a player on a stage, acting out his part, as the writer writes. The writer keeps on writing.  The story must be told. 

      ~Is this real?~

She recalls how she fumbled at resistance.  How her efforts shored up a most cowardly defense against the allegations being instigated.  She tried to ignore the conversation of years gone past that once again resumes with more fortitude.  That lone, familiar spirit of long ago appears again—this time with a complete jury of accusing voices.  That hideous creature is all spirit (invisible) this time and not alone.  Other evil spirits join in with it in its endeavoring pursuit.  She hears after years of silence,

“You’re a dyke!” 

“You won’t ever be able to keep a man no matter how you try!”

“You are not enough of a woman anyway!” 

“You’re missing something!”

“Your chromosome count isn’t right!”

 “You would be better off as a man!” 

“Let me show you!”

 “I can teach you to walk and talk like a man does!”

“You will feel more accepted if you learn to dress and act like a man!” 

“You will feel more natural and comfortable as a man!”

 “And then it will be okay to look at—you knooow!”

It is for these three years that she battled, refuted, and rejected this verbiage.  The introduction of science into the equation as an explanation, something to do with an X or Y deformity, was not enough for a concession.  It all sounded like babble and gobbledygook.  Mental exhaustion swept over her while wrestling with these ludicrous notions.  Yet they persisted.  Mounting and gaining strength.  Scouring to reign.  It was the most mind-blowing dialogue any mind could have ever experienced.  Such explicit suggestions are pouring in, running over, in order to condition behaviors outright, in an attempt at making the idea of  conformance and adherence an easier transition.  It was as if being anointed by something evil, an evil baptismal of the worst kind.  It went from bad to devastatingly worse, mentally. 

     ~Can it truly get any worse?  Oh yes, it can~

Each and every day, from sun up to sun down, similar, vulgar expressions were played back into her ears as if from a tape recorder.  Rewind.  Play back.  Subliminal.  Nothing was aligned inside her mind.  No matter how she disputed with the voices in her head, this lying accuser would not stand down.  No mercy granted.  He had been issued his authority to assault and he did not plan on stopping that assault. 

Result.  An increasingly frustrated, increasingly infuriated, increasingly humiliated, increasingly debilitated young woman.  What was happening at present was so contrary to anything she had ever anticipated for herself.

This first phase of Satan’s attack to maul the mind—it was happening so fast! 

Works of the Flesh

This entire horrific set up was painfully discerning.  Granted, only after she had consensually opened the ‘door’ through sexual sin did this evil force show intent of lien.  Demonic forces had entered in to set up house, building foundational walls for its strongholds.  There was nothing she could physically do about it.  First natural, then spiritual.  What appears on the surface subsists in duality—always.  It was a spiritual matter that needed to be dealt with as such.  But she hadn’t been to church in so long.  Or prayed.  Or read her Bible.  She had no weapons and her spirit was on life support.  Even so, she continued to dispute, refusing her fate (that is, his fate for her).

 In the end, Satan still needed for her to agree as to the terms.  Again, faith comes into play and is subjugated by our agreement with the devil.  The Bible states in Matthew 18:19 “Again I say to you that if two of you agree on earth concerning anything…it will be done.”  Now please understand that Satan has always taken scripture out of context.  Especially when people don’t know the truth.  He is aware that God’s Word is not “void.”  Notwithstanding, it can profit in anything it is applied to (evil acts included).  That is why the Bible also talks about “life and death are in the power of the tongue.”   Satan knows these scriptures and how to misapply them.  But do we know scripture, and are we fit to wield them effectively?  

Because she couldn’t see the truth for the lies, after three years, lies became increasingly more believable to her.  Even though the thought of it made her nauseous and she never saw herself yielding, she finally considered that maybe she was.  Saying the word or thinking it was the most painfully difficult acknowledgment ever—Lesbian.

b

Examining further.  We should get a sense of what lead up to this young woman’s acquiescence, but what of the aftermath? What did a typical day consist of? How did she manage this mantra of inflamed emotions? 

Well, life was hellish for her.  It was as noisome and migrainous as pelts of light flickering directly into the eyes, nonstop!  She still had to get up and go to work.  She still had to go grocery shopping.  Still dutifully paid bills.  Still cooked and cleaned her apartment.  Washed loads of laundry as needed.  She had no choice but to begrudgingly go about her routine of living although she would rather not go out at all.  And if it was not a necessity to do any errands, she avoided all contact with people.  Especially women.  She experienced overstated paranoia whenever in their presence.  She feared being induced. Unrealistically figuring that if she could avoid contact with the other half of the general population that this action would hasten an escape from the set up mapped out against her.  Acting as CHIEF STEWARD IN CHARGE OF REJECTION, rejecting herself before anyone else could. 

In the meantime, that self-same boyfriend alluded to earlier did not have a clue as to the questionings going on inside of her.  After dating awhile, she tried severally to set him free from wasting his time with the likes of her.  She had developed a reclusive heart toward him or anyone else regarding this latest secrecy. 

Blindsided, and in deep depression, humiliation roamed about in ghostlike fashion.  It did not register in her mind to seek any help or answers.  In this society, with all of its prejudices, no help or answers would be forthcoming any time soon.  She had rather bear it in silence; thinking, the curtains would eventually fall on this awful, cinematic scene.  Howbeit, that eventuality never came about.  The enemy of her soul did not grow the least weary with devouring her up like a dog gnawing away at a decrepit chew toy.  She must come to terms with the fact that there would be no letting up.  The trampling that she endured for three vigorous years had entered its fourth.

During this time, fears had magnified, with each social networking attempt ending in apparent failure.  Everywhere, in every venue, ostracized.  Unabashed lips, whispering rumors, did not cease.  Scornful looks in the eyes of every person she made contact with (including family and acquaintances).  Satan’s mass manipulation of people, counting on their prejudices and ill acceptance of all others, would aid in cornering a quailed submission to his will. 

The simplest of tasks set off panic within.  She was anxious, for nothing.  She had always been an introvert in the first place but now her ability to function in society had become extremely altered.  Proclivities to hideaway increased as daily life went from worse to unbearable, assuming people concluded the worst about her.  Unable to see anything else except what was revealed to their prejudiced mindset. 

Her value as a person was exceptionally diminished.  And no matter what her obvious talent, skill-set at work, spiritual gifts, loyalty within the family—she received a virtual stoning by all.   Relentless treatment (mistreatment) like this caused an escalation of withdrawal from the world.  Despondency, consequently, exiled this captive soul from society, at large.  Banished to live (exist) alone, on a virtual island.

 ~What? ~

Mentally tormented, this poor woman cried out from the depths of her soul.  Every day. Cowering spiritually.  Feeble.  Putting up no resistance.  Literally crouched in the corner of her sofa, wishing it would be quiet within (and without).  If just for a little while. These horrid days perpetuated  some of her very weakest points of resistance—No one can be more vulnerable than a person crouched in a fetal position! On a couch!   This was a typical day under Satan’s watch, though she was yet unyielding in her heart to simply accept this scenario for her life. 

This was that point of conclusion in which she acquiesced for the first time in her heart that she must be a “dyke” just like he said.  This is when that nauseous feeling stirred in the pit of her soul.  Coerced to cry UNCLE.    Strong-armed, wrestled. Did not want to, but did.  As a result, Satan wins this round.  No time to stop now.

b

  He is feeling victoriously pumped about this turn of events.  He does not want to waste a moment getting her to act out these lies that have been conceived.  Remember, it takes two to conceive, to agree. Conception had occurred in the mind and heart.  Now there would need to be a birth of his ideas (his lies).  There was not a moment to lose, he gathered.  The fact that she had believed his lie empowered him more. Thinking in grandeur fashion, Satan is talking to himself, talking about himself,

“She did it!”

“I did it!” 

“She agreed with me!”

“Praise…uhhh…me!” 

Emboldened to go forth in his efforts.  Satan recognizes her infantile, fragile state as the perfect opportunity to materialize his designs meant to disgrace her life.  Both mind and soul were like putty in his hands.  This was the ideal condition in which to magnify his purposes. 

And let’s not forget faith.  Her faith had played a major role in getting her here to this point.   And guess what follows faith?  That’s right, works (actions) follow faith.  You will find written in James 2:20, “But do you know, O foolish man, that Faith without works is dead?”  Satan knows this to be the next viable step on the agenda. To be impregnated with untruth meant nothing.  She must give birth!

Familiar Spirit Tactics

 Contemplative about the past as regards these emotional escapades while on the sofa, she wondered what could possibly happen next.  Her thoughts go on a further journey, entertaining other conjectures.  It was scary to look at, up close, or at any distance.  Her future.  It was not bright.  For she realized that she had been impregnated with something that she wished to abort; she did not want to give birth to it. 

     ~There goes that damned talking again!~

Blatant suggestions to enter into a lesbian liaison (tryst) pops into her head, strong as the devil.  Familiar spirits, evil, all clamoring for attention, wanting desperately to initiate their ideas.  What is Satan’s overall design going to be?  What kind of lesbian would be well suited to this newest prey?  Is there a kind?  Apparently, there is (this is made evident before science was used as a prop) They deduce while she sits there ‘numbified.’   Bull-dozing their sordid antics as though she is not there. 

A-ma-zing.  Amazing, in this sense, she could literally hear the conversations of demonic council as pertains her future.  Those demons were so excited to find a host to funnel their traits through that they could hardly be contained.  Satan’s very specific design of perversion was so tailored to fit that the very air fumed with its delirium.  The things that he is suggesting do not come naturally.  His well thought out scheme would definitely have to be adapted or familiarized (hence, familiar spirits). 

No wonder “the angels rejoice in heaven over one soul,” whoever it may be, that is brought back to Christ.  This festive effect seems to take place on both sides of the isle, excepting that demons would rather rejoice whenever someone does something iniquitous.

 “But the very hairs of your head are all numbered…you are of more value than many sparrows,” so says Matthew 10:30, 31. This lets us know that we humans are of much value to God.  And so-far-as  holy angels, as well as fallen ones,  having a vested interest to this level in our lives says a lot!   Competition is fierce to win over the souls of mankind!

Let’s not forget that the rest of the world is yet thriving while being detained, immersed under this spell, in her apartment.  Hell spun by the hell-bent throws of an adversary.  Forced into living as a captive.   Hermitlike.  Nearly crazed. No voice.  No veto.  No choice.

b

Get ready for this clownish display, a devil’s delight, of just the sort of performance Satan expected during this dress rehearsal—a show to put on (put up with) as if on stage for his entertainment:    His creation must dress the part (that is to say, of a man).   Dress up (disguises) in men’s clothing.  Hair is to be worn in a certain cut, short-styled as a man would style his (crew cut).  This woman would be endowed with overt, masculine ways, strutting as a man does (i.e. cock).  Excuse the expression.   I am trying to make a vital point here. It’s just that his rude expectations for her to become ‘butch’ in every possible way, with every wit of his intent leaning toward emulating that of a man (minus the sex change) was beyond rude.  Absolutely appalling.  Shocking.  Brazen. 

After scornfully laughing out loud at hearing his utterly ridiculous aspirations, she intuitively debated this idea with Satan.  She tried to argue the point that this was too abstract, besides being ‘ridic’ (shorthand for ridiculous).  Here she was, a petite-framed female at five feet four inches tall and maybe a hundred pounds.  And this is his best offer.  The mantle he chose for her to wear.  Evil amusement for this dark horse.  Opposing anything sound.  This did not make any sense; and the nonsense added to support it is called ‘science.’

     ~What a joke! ~

This contrary notion was kind of like when he called Jesus, Beelzebub.  It is so opposite of any truth that it becomes offensive (absurd).  Yet, this was his scheme.  He required the cloud of shame to be substantial enough to the point of complete abhorrence of self for allowing it to happen.  For bowing to Baal.  He had to know that she would make a most pathetic version of a ‘man.’   And that is precisely how he wanted it!

 He went on, suggesting the means to accomplish (coach) this type of behavior.  Or the avenue that was to be used to feed (encroach upon) her senses, at least, until the right amount of time had passed before reaching an inordinate level of comfort to seek this on her own.  

      ~Well, well…  Media~

Media of every sort.  Television, magazines, video, pornography, internet.  A world wide web of nets and traps and pitfalls.  Temptations of every sort, through the eyes, through the ears, and all the rest.  These are what he makes use of as his resources to entice, seduce, and persuade.

  To watch a simple television program became impossible to sit through.  Uncouth with his suggestions, often interjecting statements openly, such as,

“It’s okay to look at her because she can’t see you.” 

“Go ahead, look.”

 “No, really look.” 

He shows you pictures, scenes that you are not even thinking about, corruptive things not even on your level.  Obscene images.  These types of media would allow for outright lewdness without suffering the penalty of it being offensive to the same sex.  Without suffering ostracism.  No need to fear being demonized.  You get the picture?  Of course you do.  Satan was trying to school her, prepare her for what was to come next.  His plan was foolproof and strategic.

 From a bird’s eye view, it is clearly discernible where and how Satan strikes. He proudly plants his tares to grow alongside the good seed that our Father has planted within an individual’s heart, mostly when we are at our most vulnerable state, which is at some stage in conception.  We all have become the object of Satan’s obsessive predatoriness all because God, the Creator, made us the “apple of His eye.”

 Satan, on the other hand, once a much cherished thing of beauty, never exactly held that spot.  Only man has been privileged to be made in God’s image.  There is no higher compliment.  This is the reason He always stressed for mankind never to make any images of Himself, because we are already made in His image (via Adam).  Living, breathing beings. 

It’s no wonder that Satan did everything possible to contaminate the very dirt that our Creator used to make us.  Any expert of science can easily expound on how the components of dirt contains all there is in the earth—minerals, metals, and other building-blocks vital to the body.  It’s in the dirt!  Murders, death, kill, pride, jealousy, envy, strife, adultery, fornication, perversion, incest, fear, torment, and, yes, homosexuality.  All of Satan’s devices right there in the contaminate dirt! 

b

Was God laughing at this calamitous event?  She felt as if this was the case.  Proverbs 1:26, “I also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your terror comes.”  Is this the life of a prodigal?   A life out of control.  Spindling.  Holding on to a thin thread of sanity. Alone.   Like a lost child who is not yet aware that they are lost.  Really lost.

Sadly, progressive pursuits against the mind did not take place only on the home front—the workplace is another area where her thoughts were completely under siege.

It’s another day at the office where she works.  (She’s off the couch now).  Employed at a downtown legal firm, situated in a high-rise office building, for the last three years.  It actually is in one of the city’s oldest landmark churches, in the vicinity of Daley Plaza, city hall, and the Secretary of State building. Over ten floors of office space readily available for businesses. The higher you go, the better the view. 

The main corridor is outfitted with a non-denominational cathedral.  A chapel situated off to the right side as you enter through the revolving doors of the building, available to the public, as well as the office workers of that building.  All faiths are welcome to visit, pray, and worship freely.  77 West Washington in Chicago, Illinois, if memory serves aright, is where this iconic church’s bell chimed over downtown.  Ironically, it was the perfect headquarters for Satan to operate.

  This is the place of continuum for her.  She simply cannot vacate the premises of her mind on any level.  The veil of sanity is ever thinning.    A state of mind in utter contempt for this other ‘truth’.   An unstoppable union.

~Head is ringing…cannot hold on much longer!~

Dragging in to work on this day, her attendance would prove itself an especial event.  Today she had a visitor.  There were the usual sound bites of conversation going on inside her head.  What came next was unexpected though, for the enemy of her soul had come in person (reminiscent of when she was about fifteen years old).  Except this time Satan did not send his imp.  It was the “father of lies” himself, if you can believe it.  This occasion must have been of high priority for his appearance to be of such formal stance and pomp. 

Wall to wall windows allotted the perfect lighting necessary to amass an unforgettable description of this lying adversary:  He displayed himself in a suit of clothing that resembled the caricature of Uncle Sam—including the top hat and matching top coat (stripes and all).  His height projected to about seven or eight or nine feet tall—taller than any average man. It looked to be that way from her seated position (He carried himself that-a-way).  But an even more noticeable element is the fact that he did not actually fit into the Uncle Sam suit.  Satan was wearing the suit in the same manner as the ‘Earthworm Jim’ cartoon character (you may have to Google this).  He was in the suit, but he did not fit the suit!  And when this stunned young woman dared to look into his face, into his eyes, what she saw of his person could actually fit directly under her foot.  His entire physical being, such as it was, was the size of one’s head.  A human head.  It was as if he had the head but he did not have the body.  He needed a surrogate.  And not only was this the case, it was also like looking into a ‘black hole’ or abyss in three dimensional form.  Remember the tar droppings, after the big BP oil spill fiasco of our century (21^st), when workers were scraping it off of the beaches along our southern U. S. coasts?  Yes, he favors those tar balls.    Looks closer to wet dirt—Dirt without a soul—than anything else that could properly describe him (like sludge). 

There is no scary looking, red, horned devil scurrying about.  Truly, he was “without form, and void” with two very fearful reflectors for eyes that actually moved “to and fro.” Those eyes appeared to be reflecting its light-source from the light within the room.  It did not come from him; there was no light in him.   

It is noteworthy, also, that he avoided with all of his might, looking directly back at her.  His beady, bitty eyes darted with a runaway look.  Satan tried to mask his (fear) urge to flee the situation in the room with stoicism.  Try as he may, his response was parallel to fight or flight parody so typical in humans.  He was just as scary to look at as he was scared. Believe it or not—he is the one who is so full of fears, torments, and every other ungodly trait.  Although few, these details were detected and able to be discerned, albeit in a feeble state. 

Luke 10:19, 20 describes how we have no need to fear, “Behold, I give you the authority to trample on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall by any means hurt you….” Although, Satan continues to expend, without hesitation, infinite time and effort to smear us with his devilish causes, it is regardless to the fact that his own loss is eminent.

In any case, this is who spent the day at the office with her.  This is where the final assault happened.  Satan came prepared to arbitrate a deal for her very soul.  His speech.  Constant, persistent, quick, and nimble.