Picture and Write It, August 19,2012


Come to mama, she whispers in the winds, that roll of the bare branches, into his heart and soul. He was fighting it. She was evil, and he didn’t want any part of this life.

She had tricked him before, breaking his heart, and stealing his virginity, only to leave him standing alone in the dark.

He had fought depression over a figure of his imagination, drawing the wildness out of him and pouring it into hidden desires. He had started out reading the books, and looking at magazines, and ventured farther into dreams of wild ecstasy. He had crossed paths between dreams and reality and let it take over his waking and sleeping hours.

He hadn’t realized it had gone too far, until the doctor announced that he was in a deep depression and he had to seek help to figure out why he had this obsession with bad girls. He realized something was wrong, when he had started to lose weight, and wanted to sleep more than his usual night-time hours. It had begun to affect his work performance and had been verbally reprimanded by his boss, to get his shit in order. This was no place to goof off, he was not going to pay him for no work.

He made an appointment with a doctor who would help him sort out his evil desires and to figure out why he felt this way and how to get help to lay it to rest. It took several months of meeting twice weekly to come to the realization that this was his imagination being worked, and none of this was real.

He went to his best friend, who he had confided as much as he knew to, and the friend asked him if he would like to go to church with him one Sunday. He didn’t jump up and say yes, but because it was his best friend, he did consent to go the following Sunday.

At church the sermon was on the devil’s work, and how Satan could wiggle his way into a human’s conscience and have his way with him. Convincing him that the only way to live in the world was through Satan himself.

He sat and listened, and after church was over, he and his best friend, talked to the minister about the problems he was having. The minister asked him if he had ever accepted Jesus Christ to be his savior, and the boy said no. The minister went on to explain how Christ was the only answer to fighting off the devil.

After much talk, the two boys thanked the minister and went out the doors of the church.The two didn’t speak much about what had been said inside the church doors and went on to talk about the following weeks activities.

That night, as the boy slept, she came to him once again, inviting him to be with her. She would feel his wildest fantasies, please come to her, follow her. He could hear her whispers in his ear, even as he was sleeping.

He woke up startled at the reality, and felt his clothes that were soaked with sweat. He was afraid and he wanted this to stop. He didn’t want to live like this anymore. He got out of bed and kneeled on his knees at the bed side, and asked the Lord to come live in his heart.

He poured out his fears and his need to be free of this evil over taking him. He cried as he called out to God to heal him, and stay with him and never let this evil speak to him again in any form.

He felt a quietness come over him, and his sweat was dried with God’s hands. He was picked up by the arms of Jesus, and cleansed with the blood of Christ. A heaviness was lifted, and he felt a peace flow through his veins. God gently laid him back down on  his bed, and covered him with his blessings and love. God took his fingers and closed the boy’s eye lids and sleep was brought upon him. After this night, the evil dreams never appeared again, and God had even made sure there were no memories left to arise ever again.

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Your Advice And Help Would Be Appreciated


Stained glass at St John the Baptist's Anglica...

Stained glass at St John the Baptist’s Anglican Church http://www.stjohnsashfield.org.au, Ashfield, New South Wales. Illustrates Jesus’ description of himself “I am the Good Shepherd” (from the Gospel of John, chapter 10, verse 11). This version of the image shows the detail of his face. The memorial window is also captioned: “To the Glory of God and in Loving Memory of William Wright. Died 6th November, 1932. Aged 70 Yrs.” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

English: Satan as Antichrist

English: Satan as Antichrist (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I haven’t spoken lately of my journey with my brother’s illness. Not much has gone on as there has been much peace.This all ended last evening.

I took him to eat at his favorite buffet restaurant. He enjoyed the company of strangers sitting next to us. I don’t say anything anymore to him, trying to stop him so that the others can eat. I figure I have tried several times, and he seems to love socializing, so I let it alone.

We got home, and the light bulb switched off inside his head, and he went from the opposite of peace to troubled. He and I spent two hours, chatting back and forth, me trying to explain that he is looked at by me as a valued human on this earth. His comeback was that he is useless. His comments that he runs into things, that he can barely walk, that his tremors are out of control bothers me greatly. He and I have this same conversation at least weekly. The same points are made by each of us each time. I have explained to him many times, in the most simple terms I can think of, that God is good, and Satan is bad.

I believe that Satan is playing my brother. I believe that Satan may believe that Al’s time may be not so many months or years away, and that he wants to do everything in his power to try to take Al’s soul. I believe this, because Al spends many hours in his Bible. I can’t tell you how much he understands of what he reads, but I believe that his memory is still sharp as a tack of all the years that he went to church, so his memory may be understood more than his actual reading.

I have tried so many things to help Al with this difficult time in his life. I have sat with him and we go over Bible verses. I have explained to him many times that God is with him and will take care of him. I take him many places to get his mind off of his illness. I have had our minister here and an anointing was done for Al, and also his room anointed. I ask from my readers many prayers, along with my own prayers.

Is the mental challenge that he carries within himself, keeping him from understanding what I am saying? Is it the fear that he carries about his illness and dying that is stronger than anything I could possibly say to him? Is Satan working overtime?

I do not know where to go anymore. I feel very frustrated but most likely not as frustrated as he is. My heart bleeds when I hear him say such negativity about himself. When I see his tears fall, and his voice rising to me, wanting me to desperately believe him when he says he is bad, I want to walk away from him, in order to not have to lie and say what he wants to hear. I can not agree with him, when he wants me so badly, to say that he is bad, that he deserves this, that he is being punished, and that he is useless.

What can I do my friends? What can I say? Do I bother the minister with another anointing? Do I pretend not to hear Al, in order to not start another argument or discussion?

Do any of you take care of a family member, or are you a professional caregiver for a person who also believes as Al does? If, so what do you do, how do you handle this?

Is this something that I need to accept, that this depression is a part of his illness? The professionals have tried many depression drugs, and so far not one has worked. This makes me believe it may be partly due to his mental challenges. I don’t know, but I do know that I feel for him. I love him, and I am reaching out, yet another time for your help.