A Scare That Almost Scarred Me!

“It is a 1986 horror novel by American author Stephen King. The story follows the exploits of seven children as they are terrorized by the eponymous being, which exploits the fears and phobias of its victims in order to disguise itself while hunting its prey. "It" primarily appears in the form of a clown in order to attract its preferred prey of young children. The novel is told through narratives alternating between two time periods, and is largely told in the third-person omniscient mode. It deals with themes that eventually became King staples: the power of memory, childhood trauma, and the ugliness lurking behind a façade of traditional small-town values. Publishers Weekly listed It as the best-selling book in the United States in 1986.” (Wikipedia)

I did not read the book.

The film was released in 1990. I saw the film. I wish I hadn’t.

Does anyone still feel the chill and fear that movie provoked? I do.

Over this past summer my granddaughters and I were going through old movies and in the very back of the cabinet was the movie It. I literally shivered.

“Let’s watch it!” One of my granddaughters squealed.

“No!” Cried another one.

I ended the discussion quickly. There would be no viewing of It.

            In 1990 when I saw that film I was well into adulthood with children 18, 15, and 10 years old. Why did that film bother me so badly?

As a child I loved circuses. My grandparents often took me to Calloway Gardens in Georgia to see the jugglers, flying trapeze artists, and the clowns. I remember seeing old black and white movies depicting the traveling circuses like Barnum and Bailey or Ringling Brothers. It was magic, courage, and exhilaration. But King distorted that for me.

I had none of those euphoric feelings when I saw the movie It. I was fearful.

It was one of my worst nightmares. Instead of snippets of dream-remembered horror, the movie slashed with its full-blown color!

            Reflecting back on my horror of the movie, I tied to remember what was going on in my life or past that could have stimulated such anxiety. Stephen King achieved exactly what he had set out to do – dredge up all the fears and phobias of the audience and his readers. And 25 years after the film’s release, it still had its clutch on me.

          

To top it off, 3 weeks ago we were traveling to a funeral up in PA and got behind this truck. When I saw the image, I shivered. Another reminder.

            Am I scarred from the gruesome image of that clown? I immediately felt a chill cross my shoulders. Twenty-five years ago it might have taken me into a tailspin, dredging up other things in my life that weren’t going well. Today, I shiver. Then, I name my demon, whether it’s fear, apprehension, anxiety, anger, hurt, etc., and I do not let it take hold of me.

            Conquering these types of conflict is imperative. We have to stave them off instantly. The best ways to do this is to:

            1. Name the fear. Call out the demon. Ask yourself what happened to dredge up the feelings? How does it make me feel?  Name the emotion.

            2. Take it to God. God loves you. You are His precious child. Find a scripture to hang onto and repeat it like a mantra until you get control of your feelings. Mine is 2 Chronicles 20:12 “. . . Nor do we know what to do, but our eyes are upon You.” Keep your eyes focused on Jesus. He cast all fear aside and suffered on the cross for us. How can I not keep my eyes on Him ?  He who has been through it all will understand.

            3. Reject the fear. It can consume you. “Let not your heart be troubled, nor let it fear.” Ask family and friends to pray over you. Prayer is powerful. Standing up to fear is also powerful and liberating. It’s not easy; it has to be intentional. “But now, this is what the Lord says – He who created you, O Jacob, He who formed you, O Israel: ‘Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name: you are mine”.

            4. Distract your focus. Keep your focus off your fear, and on the One who will ease the discomfort of your situation. Isaiah 41:10 states, “Do not fear, for I am with you. Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.”

Fear comes from external sources. Even a clown. The art of mastering it requires self-control, one of the Fruits of the Spirit. It is purposeful and intentional.

Trust me, fear cannot survive in the presence of the Almighty God. Call it out! Rebuke Satan!

Give it all to Him. Blessings to you always!  

Fractured Lives Part 2

How do we fight off fear, worry, depression, and feelings of loss?

            These feelings are mind traps. They become so ingrained in the way we think that we begin to own them. What we don’t understand is that these four robbers steal our joy, happiness, confidence, and more important our faith and trust in God. We spend so much time looking around us for answers that we forget to look up for THE answer.

When we worry, when we’re afraid, when we feel lost, or when we are fearful, we take our eyes off Jesus and elevate these emotions to godhood. We give them our time, our energy, and our devotion. It’s all we can think about. Our lives become entangled in a negative mesh that begins to steal who Christ says we are for what other people think and our culture erratically proclaims we should be.

Often these conflicting views leave us feeling like failures and losers, and the aftermath escalates our insecurity. Words piled upon words, burying us deeper and deeper into the mire.

We’ve all felt these avenging words slip into our consciousness: round upon rounds of onslaught that eventually wear us down.

How do we break this damaging thinking?

            Let’s go back to the image of being in a mire, a cesspool of filth.

            Both feet are stuck tight.

            As you struggle to lift one foot out, you hear a loud “suction”sound released, and your foot is free. One foot freed lightens your load. You can breathe easier. It gives hope, increases resolve and determination to continue.

            You extend that freed foot forward, and it lands in the mire again. This time there is little to no sound. The foot is accepted as the mire rolls up, around, and over the foot.

            This process is repeated over and over again.

            It is tiring, totally exhausting, but it is also purposeful and intentional.

Did you notice something in this process?

            Lifting the foot out of the mire is followed by a loud suction release sound. When you place your foot back in the mire it is readily accepted. It is definitely harder to get out of a mess than remain in it. Can I get an amen?

            Satan wants you to stay in the mire, keeping your eyes downcast as you struggle to free yourself.

            This is a true phenomenon . . . keeping your eyes down increases the struggle. It adds to the weight of what you are doing. BUT if you raise your head and keep your eyes forward or up, then your whole body is elevated, feeling lighter and stronger.

            It takes effort and determination to be free of sin’s mire, but the effort is worth it. Each step is closer to solid ground where we will immediately feel the full expression of freedom by the Deliverer.

Psalm 18:28-29 “Lord, You light my lamp; my God can attack a barrier, and with my God I can leap over a wall.”

            This is one of my favorite verses, but please open your Bible and read all of Psalm 18, Praise for Deliverance. Read it over and over again until you believe these words:

            “I love you, Lord, my strength. You are my Rock, my Fortress, and my Deliverer, my God, my Mountain where I seek refuge, my Shield and the Horn of my salvation, my Stronghold.”

There is power in the name of Jesus . . . break every chain, break every chain, break every chain!

Stay tuned for the rest of the story on fractured lives. Oh . . . you thought I was finished. Nope. Let’s go back to those scenarios and take a closer look.

God bless you always!

Questions Are Stabbing Heartaches

 

What ifs can be the point of an arrow, slicing through skin and marrow.

Last April my husband and I decided to travel from Eastern North Carolina to San Ramon, California via the southern route. Our destination was to visit our daughter and her family. Along the route we had friends to visit, vistas to explore and foods to tantalize our taste buds. We had few plans, less agendas, no maps (don’t count GPS), a book for pet hotels, lots of snacks, water, and, of course, our Boston terrier, Miss Lillie.

We set a routine. Get up, do our Bible Study, have coffee, walk Miss Lillie and be out the hotel/motel by 9:00am. Every day, no later than 4:00pm, we would stop, walk Miss Lillie, and head somewhere to eat. I would often spend the last few minutes before we stopped to search for local diners with specialty foods.

One afternoon, we stopped at a rest stop near Henrietta, Oklahoma. It was a beautiful area. We all set out on a walk to stretch our legs and encourage Miss. Lillie to relieve herself. In the distance, I heard a screech. As we continued walking, the screech became a tormenting sound, horrifying. My husband and I turned round and round looking upward, thinking it was a hawk attacking some innocent or ailing animal. The skies were empty. The sound erupted again, piercing and fearful.

We immediately zeroed in on the center of the sound. Below us in the parking lot were two people standing next to a motorcycle. A feeling of wrong permeated the area. The high pitched cries continued as we moved closer. The only other time we had ever heard this kind of penetrating sound was when we attended a hawk exhibition at The Greenbriar in West Virginia. Hawks soared releasing attack cries as they lunged at smaller birds.

Fear escaladed. We finally made out the two figures as a man and young girl. The man was tall, dressed in jeans, a long sleeve white shirt, and had a red-white-and-blue bandanna tied across his head. The girl was slight. Her hair was in a fountain of corkscrews, flying around her face each time she moved. The man grabbed and shook her. When she threw her head back, the deafening noise filled the wind, hitting us painfully in the face.

“It’s coming from that child.” Words flew from me in anguish. “What can we do?”

Before Dallas could respond, the man grabbed the girl, slamming his hand over her face and screaming words we could not understand, but knew were not English. She responded by dropping to the ground, trying to fold herself into a ball as he plummeted her back, legs, arms—anything he could find to hit.

Dallas, Miss Lillie and I rushed down to the parking lot, edging far enough from the scene not to be noticed. That’s when we spied another observer, a Chinese man. Dallas told me to stay put, and he ran towards a utility truck that had just pulled up into the area. My eyes went between watching him run from one person to another in the rest area for help, and the blatant abuse of the child in front of me.

Even now I cannot quell my fear or tears. The images are too real and frightening.

For two years I had been reading about human trafficking. I had a flyer on my desk to check into a new chapter opening near my home when I returned. How could I be standing here watching? Why were my feet immobile? What if I didn’t respond? What if I was the last one to see this child alive?

In my heart, I knew what was happening. I could not believe it. I thought the world and everything in it had crashed into a million ugly pieces. I cannot tell you the horror I saw in that child’s bruised face or his guttural language that left no need for interpretation. The threat was clear and menacing.

Wide-eyed I searched for my husband. Silent screams hung in my throat. Bitter gall rose in open defiance. Then I heard the motorcycle roar. Swinging around, I saw the man pick up the girl, slam a helmet on her head, thrust her onto the motorcycle, and tie her hands to the seat back. She struggled with every ounce of her being. He paid no attention as she kicked at him. He just took off. He left. No one was running after him. No siren was blaring. Only the Chinese man and I stood with frozen looks of horror on our faces.

No one did a thing.

What if I had run forward? What if I had screamed? What if? What if? What if?

I have nightmares. I see young girls and boys in the hands of perpetrators being taken from their homes. People stare. Then they walk away. Uncaring.

My heart died a little that day. And every day since, I see her face, and I go through the same horror. Asking myself the same heart wrenching questions, over and over again.

In November, seven months after that incident, I went to the Women of Faith Conference in Charlotte, North Carolina. One of the speakers was Christine Caine. Her talk? Human Trafficking.

Folks, it’s real. It’s a threat to everyone in big cities and small towns.

Defeat? NO!

Empowerment? Yes. God shared one of his greatest heartbreaks with me. I pray for that child daily. I pray for anyone taken hostage. I’m on the lookout. I will never stand frozen in horror again. Evil is not a figment of my imagination. It is real. I saw it. I have the nightmares to prove it. I am on a quest to learn all I can to be prepared to respond in the future.

In my book, Cries of Innocence, there is a scene similar to the one I witnessed. The ones taken into hostage are called Desmios, the captive ones.

What do you know about human trafficking?

Has it touched your life yet?

Check out Christine Caine’s website and A21.

http://www.christinecaine.com/content/about/gjegfk

Blessings!

Faith:

Faith “is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1)

            I love Martin Luther King, Jr’s quote, “Faith is taking the first step when you don’t see the whole staircase.”

            All I can think of when I read this quote is trying to make it up the staircase in the Currituck Lighthouse. Being slightly claustrophobic, it’s all I can do to put one foot in front of the other. If someone is coming up close behind me, I panic. There’s nowhere to go! There’s nothing to hang onto. The wall is slick as glass. If you lose your footing, there’s no place to go but down!

            Several years ago, my granddaughter would hear none of my whining about not going up to the top of the lighthouse. She literally pushed me up the first step and became my encourager with each step I took after that. “You can do it, Nana!”

            I thought I was doing really well. I finally took my eyes off my feet and actually looked ahead. Then this rotund man decided I was going too slow and squeezed past me, causing me to almost lose my balance. It was not a pretty sight. But my granddaughter put her hand on my back and said, “I’ve got you, Nana!”

            My granddaughter’s hand became a physical presence of reassurance and faith that I could make it up those steep, winding, narrow steps. Plus I knew her, trusted her. Our relationship and love gave me extra comfort.

            But what about God? How do I establish faith in an unseen God?

            Trust me, I’ve struggled with this. Wondering. Questioning. When I shared my doubts with a sweet, elderly woman in my church, she said, “Read the Bible.” Read the Bible? I left thinking the woman was a simpleton; she hadn’t helped me at all. Just read the Bible?

            I picked at verses and chapters, nothing made sense. I went back to my church friend and announced, “I’m so confused. Where do I begin?” She looked at me as if I had two horns and pronounced, “Read John! Get to know your Savior.” I didn’t question her.

            Her advice began my daily journey into discovering faith. Let me confess, crawling into the Bible wasn’t easy. It was often hard to digest, being firm, bold, and relentless. Then one day, I ran across Romans 10:17. “So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.”

            I remembered my friend’s words. She didn’t tell me what faith was. She sent me to the source to find it for myself. That’s when I declared her to be a spiritual genius. Well, in my limited knowledge of geniuses, she was a genius!

            “To one who has faith no explanation is necessary, to one without faith, no explanation is possible.” (Thomas Aquinas)

            Faith is too grand to be fully explained. It is a way of life, an awakening to something more than we can ever become. Faith comes through a relationship with Jesus.

            Last summer, I sat staring up at the lookout area on top of Currituck Lighthouse. With a huge sigh, I went inside, paid my entry fee, walked to the first step, and hesitated. Looking up at the circular steps I uttered, “Jesus, you’ve got my back on this one.”

            I kept my head up, imagining Jesus walking ahead of me and standing behind me. My breath stabilized. With each step, I became more confident. By step sixteen, I could have cried. We were doing it. I wanted to high-five Jesus, but stopped when I heard two teenagers say, “excuse me”. The next few steps were swallowed up behind a wall. I could not see them, and the teens were shoving and pushing one another to see who could climb up faster.

            I reached into my pocket, grabbed the index card I had placed there the night before, and read, “Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of the faith is to see what you believe.” (Saint Augustine)

            My back straightened. I could almost feel the light pressure of a hand. Taking one step at a time, I began my ascent. Two more people passed me. I kept moving forward. When I reached the top, I realized the journey wasn’t really about climbing Currituck Lighthouse. It was about confirming my faith. It was a pivotal moment for me, one that continues to be affirmed

            “The assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

            Faith.