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.  

Anyhow, the girl’s peripheral view suddenly took notice of something happening to the right side of her.  Here, she eye-witnessed this form come up out of the ground on the front lawn.  As this ‘being’ began to boldly approach, she was not startled in the slightest by this motion, nor was she dumbfounded.  In fact, after a quick glance, she turned her head away from this figure, just for a moment, to continue admiring the beautiful depth of greenery generated from the Elephant Ear. 

Out of the blue, there was a soft rap on her right shoulder.  This radical move was a highly unanticipated action taken by this spirit being because no spirit had ever actually attempted to make physical contact before (only making their presence obvious up to this point). 

Turning back, carefully panning over the intrusive figure that had come up out of the ground, she could only gulp at its grotesque ugliness!  Taking instant notice of details that went unnoticed before—having very little choice, as she was fixated by what she was seeing. By this time, a ghastly eyeful of this dwarfish, impish, beastly, demon had embedded itself just before it decided to speak.  Unexpectedly.  With unreserved, audacious clarity in its tone, it declares matter-of-factly,

“You’re a dyke!” 

Just like that.  The realization of ‘what’ had spoken to her was beyond her scope of reason.  Never mind that, the girl’s immediate response came automatically, as she retorts,

“You’re a lie!” 

Those words were inadvertently sworn into the air before seeing that her great-grandmother was sitting on the porch, as was customary, with gaping eyes pointed in her direction. 

~Oops!~

Without much time to recover, she looks at this character one more time.  It’s still there, not a dream!  Taking a long observant look at this horrid creature of hell that seems to be only visible to her.  A walking, talking, obvious demon with an unbelievably curious form is standing right beside her!  On the brightest of summer days, this young lady was allowed to see a perverted spirit’s truest form up close. 

It had an undeveloped embodiment, made of feces.  Yes, that feces!  It had been formed in such a way as perhaps a child would form a clay figure out of play dough.  For instance, it was lacking certain definitive details.  The eyes were mere eye sockets and the limbs were designed with hands and feet that resembled the tapered off ends of a ‘turd.’ 

~I know…~

I know that it is without a doubt, a disgusting, graphic detail to picture.  But, there is a saying out there about truth being stranger than fiction, as in this case.   

This telling bit of information is fascinating regarding the forms that fallen angels had to choose from as a result of being demoted from their heavenly natures.  They could still project themselves as light in order to deceive people from perceiving their evilest, truest natures. But “angels of light” they were not.  Not anymore. 

~An appropriate guise will do~

In her determination to continue a dialogue—cautious not to speak into the air as before, careful to address it within her spirit this time, she timidly proceeds with this spirit that had been allocated,

“Why-y-y did you just say that to me?”  Ashamed, looks away.

“Why-y-y are you saying this?” Again.  Pause, grapple.  No quick   answer.

 “Because your mother rejected you,” the demon-imp alleges.

“Because YOU didn’t have a mother!” It chimes in, interjecting.

 “W-w-what has that got to do with anything?” Confused, stammers.

“Just because!” is the final word.

When the demon refuses to continue conversing, refusing to expound further about the reasoning for his unbefitting, slanderous prose, this curt, harried, back and forth exchange ends. 

b

Coincidently, State of Illinois courts do corroborate that the mother had relinquished all parental rights without the father’s knowledge or say in the matter.  This legal affair was able to be achieved under the radar, without the father’s rights ever being considered, during a very ill-lucid time in America’s history.  Father’s rights were unheard of and child advocacy barely hovered as a protection for children back then.  Hardly any improvements exist today. 

It is for this reason that she now understood why they had to go ‘visit’ on that unforgettable day when she was about four years old—as wards of the court they had no choice.  It was either, we go there to live or else end up at the mercy of the foster care system.  Therefore, a mother’s unforeseen rejection and the day that three small children were given away set up the perfect storm.

This awakening took place at the sensitive age of about fifteen. It weighed heaviest in her young, unaware life.  She knew in an instant that she had somehow been chosen by Satan to wear this awful mantle.  As well, she understood that this perverted spirit had been purposefully sent to attach itself, to stalk, and to lay dormant.  If need be, not until she opened a ‘legal door’ giving authority for its entrance.  Satan diligently wanted to bring a host of immoral infestation into this young life. 

      ~Especially that kind, that one~

Any sinful, however minor, infraction inevitably committed hereafter, could and would maneuver a wedge for damning spirits to come forth.  What is the purpose of a wedge? A wedge acts to hold a place open (i.e. a foot in the door).  Keeping the door open is the assignment of some of the weaker demons.  They are the most compliant, unassuming, and not as boisterous to seek glory in the temple of your soul. They do well, too, as the doorkeepers into the soul. Slothfulness, Depression, Tiredness, Rejection, Emotional Hurts, Fatigue, Disorders, Forgetfulness, and on it goes. Demons ride (thrive) on the coattails of our emotions.  A scripture that comes to mind is Ephesians 4:27, “Nor give place to the devil.”  Beware if you do.  Assuming that, he will take full advantage of each and every opportunity available to him since he does not tire as we do; and since he is not limited by the veil of the flesh. 

And what is a doorkeeper?  It is analogous with the “little fox” parable.  All it takes is any inferior, inconspicuous, peon spirit such as those named.  Faint spirits, such as timidity or procrastination, are seen by most as a trait, a harmless trait at that.  Yet, these are the very foxes used to gain access into the soul, jam the door, in order that stronger, more aggressive spirits can get access.  Then the strong ones vie to carry out their own, distinct, corruptible vices, as agents of the devil, and make spoil of unsuspecting lives.

       ~Understand, so far?~

He will unashamedly use timidity which appears to be somewhat harmless, even endearing.  But ask yourself, is this characteristic the Spirit of God?  No, it is not characteristic of God’s nature.  What about procrastination, which does not seem to be hurtful or malicious toward anyone else.  But the point is, is it the Spirit of God?  No, it is not a trait that you will find.  Don’t be fooled.  Satan tries to push any of these off as aspects of human personality alone, negating the fact that they are all hindering spirits.  Weak, lowly little foxes.  The desired outcome is to create havoc, relentlessly.

 Unfair?  Yes, unfair. Yet, this is how Satan chooses to operate his domain.  He cannot fight a fair fight.  He prefers to blindside us by any means. 

So realize that as we are body, soul, and spirit, he will look for any hint of a crack that he can find to operate.  The enemy opportunistically uses anything—fear, indecision, debt—you name it.  Most of all see how he aims to pollute the foundation of our original design.  He heavily depends on the “all have sinned” clause and holds firm to this—the inevitability that all of us will commit sin at some point on the timeline of our lives.