thirteen months

july 2017 to august 2017. thirteen months filled with love, laughter, healing and thirteen months of intense warfare, deception, heartbreak and overcoming. she’d lived to tell.

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photo credit: pixabay

sword in her right hand and scepter in her left, she’d learned her lessons well. relationships ended from bad choices and the enemy overplaying his hand.

demons were overcome in battles fought only to win. there was no other way except through. her gifts and abilities were honed and refined, becoming useful, dangerous weapons.

father moved her back to the place where the war had begun seven years earlier. standing in a ‘live to tell’ place in time, the song played in her head, the words encouraging her fingers on the keyboard.

if i ran away, i’d never have the strength
to go very far
how would they hear the beating of my heart
will it grow cold
the secret that i hide, will i grow old
how will they hear
when will they learn
how will they know

a man can tell a thousand lies
i’ve learned my lesson well
hope i live to tell
the secret i have learned, ’till then
it will burn inside of me

the truth is never far behind
you kept it hidden well
if i live to tell
the secret i knew then
will i ever have the chance again

some stories would be told without repercussion while others were time sensitive, requiring discernment on their release.

others still would hold consequences. choices for righteousness would be offered yet again. others would remain secret. honor and love protect both the guilty and the innocent.

when the last showdown occurred, she was still standing, having never hit the ground. she stood shocked, betrayed, bruised and bloodied with a deep stab wound.

her nemesis was a pawn of the enemy, a sister she had loved well, trusted implicitly, shared her life with on every level. when the bad acting was fully revealed and over, she forgave quickly and easily.

scissors in hand, she quickly cut the puppet strings above her head one by one. freedom came like a freight train, joy and peace flooding her soul.

witchcraft is ugly. it takes the wounded captive but cares not if they are destroyed with the intended target. the enemy cares little about collateral damage or friendly fire.

the spirit made several attempts at re-entry into her home and life. she put it on notice, now clearly recognizing it as the same one that had astral projected into the tacoma convention center a year earlier. “if you come in here, or anywhere in the realm of my authority, i will cut your silver cord and it will be over for you. your choice. i have permission.”

she closed the spiritual doors, gates and any other potential opening, taking care to remove anything from her possession that constituted a soul tie.

jewelry is not lovely or valuable if it has bad juju on it. she blessed it and gave it to an employee at a local retailer, a young woman delighted at the unexpected gift. those earrings would look lovely on her. might as well do good with them.

the exposure increased and intensified over several months at the end, a mental game of chess that turned physical on occasion as the enemy tried to take her out.

she knew she needed help. every morning she asked the spirit of truth to lead her into all truth while asking father to show her where witchcraft was operating in her life. he showed her and quickly.

she questioned him about the unraveling and inevitable end on august 25, understanding very little as physical strength flowed back into her body.

on august 26, he said, “everything has a season.” she nodded, taking it to heart. she knew he would tell her more as she could bear it.

it didn’t take long.

on september  8, he continued. “you asked for preparation, for training, for discernment and equipping. opportunities were given to you to increase in those areas.”

the training was hard, ugly, painful and costly. the losses alone nearly made her give up hope. instead, she held the promises tightly in her fists, speaking them out and reminding father of them often. they would not be stolen. she had confidence he would restore what had been damaged or stolen.

when she asked jesus to pull out the last knife, it didn’t hurt too much at all.

she learned her lessons well. she lived to tell.

jane doe productions © 2018

 

 

access denied

she was out with her family riding bicycles. they were traveling a path representing rich history, riding from boston to lexington as paul revere had so famously done.

this day would also be marked in heaven.

as she rode, she released declarations of freedom and resurrection life to the people and to creation. she released ‘angels of original american intent’ to move, to act on the words she was speaking.

her words were powerful, full of love, purpose, restoration. and they did not go unchallenged.

the enemy sent troops to disrupt the work. it happened quickly. her best efforts to avoid the crash weren’t enough.

she had the wisdom and presence of mind to quickly reach out for prayer from friends. those prayers pushed back the demons’ intent to take her body and pieces of her soul captive.

one friend got on the phone with her and began to pray in tongues. she saw infirmity and trauma trying to enter through her knee. she commanded all trauma to be loosed from her friend’s physical cells. she commanded the ligaments, tendons and muscles to go back into place.

the assignment was cancelled, access denied. indeed, there was movement in the knee immediately. healing was occurring.

 

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photo credit: pixabay

as they talked, holy spirit showed them how the plan and attack happened in the spirit. pride stood firmly in the man who wouldn’t give way on the path. his unwillingness to yield gave place to leviathan to twist her body and knee in ways they were never designed to move as she crashed to the ground.

holy spirit brought more revelation: it’s at the point of attack when trauma or injury occur that all demonic spirits attempt to come and attach themselves.

it’s also the place where we submit (accept or yield to a superior force or to the authority or will of another person) ourselves to god, resist the enemy, and he flees. it’s written and it is what it is. the power and protection available to us in coming under god’s authority is unparalleled.

this authority protects, heals and delivers all of god’s children, redeemed and unredeemed alike, to show them they are loved and cared for without limit.

and the same resurrection power that raised jesus from the dead exists in every redeemed child of god.
our bodies cry out for healing. they’re relieved when they’re blessed and prayed for because they desire to live, move, work and play the way father designed them to function.

there is no force than can stand against authority flowing from love and intimacy with father god.

time is not a factor in this process. god is not in time. jesus moved in and out of it.

he told us to be as he was in this world. this means we can go back to the time of the attack, be positioned at the point of entry and cancel that event. healing and deliverance occur.

when oppression is lifted and the blinders are removed, people see god clearly.

they see he is good. and always has been.

what the enemy means for evil, god uses for good.

(copyright 2017 jane doe)

 

 

 

full exposure

it had been nearly three weeks since they’d spoken. it was the longest they’d ever gone without any communication.

she’d made the upgrade in her own identity and it caused a shift between them. in the process, the battle had intensified. father was bringing her into higher levels of rest and trust. after the first week of silence, she settled into it. it was all right.

then the direction shifted. she was still  at work one day when she began to see a restaurant they frequented often in her mind. once, twice and a third time she saw it.

then came the phone call from a trusted friend. after conversation, it was clear: it was time to go back into the fray, to fight for him, to fight for them. destinies were at stake.

she texted him once. he read it and did not respond. she sent another, letting him know where she was. silence. then a text response. “what do you want?” she felt his anger.

this was not normal. “what do you mean?” she texted back. then her phone rang. “where are you?” yes. he was angry. and he had been angry for over two weeks.

after some conversation, the reason for his anger became clear. the enemy had whispered lies to him about her. he had believed the worst of her based on his experience with someone else.

 

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photo credit: pixabay

 

the liar had worked hard to make him believe they were exactly the same. they were not. she unraveled the lie and presented the truth to him.

his face grew darker. in his anger, she could see he wanted to believe the lie over the truth. it was easier than admitting he hadn’t questioned the lying spirits with their accusing voices. pride was right there to justify his actions and misplaced anger.

she didn’t pull any punches. “you need to delineate a clear line between her actions and mine. we are not the same. i do not do what she did. if you don’t keep it separate, i’m going to get the crap beat out of me.” she meant it figuratively, but he went off.

“what do you mean? i’m going to beat you up?” she looked him in the eyes over her bowl of nachos. “no. i mean that i will get hurt.”

he sat back in his chair taking in the weight of her words. she went to the restroom. “daddy, I don’t know what to to. i need more grace and mercy over us here. help me.” she went back out to the table.

his features had softened slightly. “how do we fix this?” he asked. she shrugged her shoulders. “wipe the slate clean?” he nodded, adding, “hit the reset button?” she nodded.

nothing felt like it had been reset. the atmosphere was heavy. not only was he sitting on the other side of the table, but so were the demons who’d been tormenting him in recent months. they hung on his shoulders and whispered lies to him. she could see them and hear when they spoke through his mouth.

he didn’t have a skill set for combatting them yet. but he would. and when he knew the truth, it would make him free.

fear, rejection, poverty, infirmity, jealousy and pride. and here they were all together at dinner. no wonder it was challenging to navigate. and deep within this beautiful man was a small boy who needed healing.

they did okay when the conversation centered around what each of them had been doing for activities, how the family was, etc.

pride became impatient with the niceties and began telling her what he would and would not do, ripping on the plans father god had shown them both together.

she stayed still as long as she could, her heart racing as the liar attempted to deconstruct what father had already begun in building them together as one.

when the conversation crossed the line, she put on her coat and set her purse on the table. she stood before him, hardly believing the words he’d spoken. this clearly was not him.

the pain was in her eyes, in her words. she could see that he saw it. his own pain and woundedness was so great, all he could do was take it out on her in the moment.

she looked over at him before she walked away. shaking her head sadly, she said, “you don’t want to let the best thing you’ve got in your life walk out the door.” it was not bragging. it was arrogant. it was just true.

she left. he didn’t go after her. as she walked to the car, she made one remark to father. “i know, i know, i will believe and trust right now that what the enemy meant here for evil tonight, you will make work for our good.”

she got in the car and waited to see if he would come to stop her. he did not.

she debriefed the whole thing with wise counsel. some of this had been father’s doing. he wanted to expose things in the man that had been hidden. she had called them out and brought light into them.

exposure had occurred. the enemy had lost ground that he would never get back. checkmate.

twenty-four hours later, she was exhausted from the skirmish, unfriended and exiled. these were but temporary conditions. she declared victory and full restoration with a song in her heart.

light always exposes the darkness.

 

(copyright 2017 jane doe)