Jesus was full of it. Every where he went he showed compassion to those who flocked toward him. He was especially compassionate toward children. And, children responded with joy. I can see them giggling and smiling, all wanting Jesus to pick them up or let them sit on his lap. I’m sure Jesus smiled at each child who unabashedly ran to him.
The Disciples rebuked the parents who brought their children to Jesus. But, Jesus rebuked them. He said,
“Let the little children come to me, and stop keeping them away, because the kingdom from heaven belongs to people like these.” Matthew 19:14
In this video you will meet little Judah. His mother shares his story, and how the illness he was born with, inspired her to sponsor a child through Compassion International.
That is why I am writing today.
Those of you who have followed me, and continue to read my blog in spite of the fact I have allowed way too much time to pass from the last time I posted, will begin to see blog posts about Compassion International. I have recently become a Compassion Blogger, and encourage each of you to do a couple of things after watching the video and reading this blog.
Jesus said if we give just a cup of cold water to a child in need, in his name, we certainly would not lose our reward (Mark 9:41). There are so many children who grow up in profound poverty and do not have access to decent healthcare. Many of them suffer with the same ailment as little Judah does. But, you can help.
1. Go to Compassion International and,
2. Sponsor a child today.
Jesus was full of it..
I was 28 years old with two children, ages one and two, and five months pregnant with my third when I met with a counselor. I needed courage to leave my abusive husband and thought I could find some there.
Counselor: “Tell me about your childhood.”
Me: (Thinking what does my childhood have to do with anything?) “Well, it was a childhood. You know… normal.”
Counselor: “It was happy??
Me: “I don’t know. It was… norm… (a dam of memories breaks open in my mind)… wait, no, that’s not right.”
Counselor: “What isn’t right”?
Me: “My childhood. It wasn’t normal. I was mo… (there is a flood of emotions rising to the surface)… I was mol… (I am having trouble saying the word. My throat is closing off my words. Tears are choking me). I was molested”!
As that realization tumbled to the forefront of my mind, I felt as though my life shattered into a million tiny pieces. Each shard stabbing me with it’s truth. As the details began spilling out, my soul felt like it was being ripped apart. The pain was excruciating. Unbearable.
I don’t know how long I cried, but when I calmed down he asked…
Counselor: “How have you handled all of that”?
The truth is, most of us don’t know how to “handle” what we’ve been through. We’ve turned to food, sex, drugs, alcohol, self harm — other avenues to dull the pain. We don’t want to feel that kind of pain so we stuff it further and further down by any other thing that makes us feel better.
The other part of the truth is, this: We can’t heal unless we allow the reality of abuse, and the pain, to rise to the surface. To be validated. To be known. To be released.
No matter how painful it is, facing our past needs to be done in order to heal. Mine pounced on me while looking for an ounce of courage. I’m glad it did because today, the pain is no more.
What God has done for me, he WILL do for you!
Many nights, throughout my life, were filled with deep sorrow, hours of shed tears, and my mouth open in silent screams. I didn’t know how to verbalize what I felt inside. Dead. Betrayed. Hurt. Shattered. Alone. Desperate. Needy. Just tears and silent screams. I don’t remember saying too much, except, “Oh, God.” But, God still heard me, and understood. It was during this time I wrote the following:
Whispers in the Dark
The darkest, quietness of night
In stillness as you lay;
The only sound or rhythm heard
Are words your mouth can’t say.
The tears that burn your sleepy eyes
A fist in anger clenched;
The cry that asks “Why me, Oh Lord?”
The soul, in anguish drenched.
And though it can’t be verbalized
Into a single word;
A whisper’s heard with every beat
Your heart is being heard.
God hears you, Beloved. Even though you think he has ignored you. Even when you think he doesn’t care. But wait, if you listen long enough, you can hear it. In the stillest, quietness of night, the heart will whisper the tale of its journey to its Creator. And, there in the darkness…God is whispering back.
Excerpt from, “Whispers From My Heart – Emotional and Spiritual Healing from Childhood Sexual Assault.
I would like to take a few minutes to introduce to you, Naomi Hunter, and her newly released book, “A Secret Safe to Tell.” Take a few minutes to head on over to her Author page and “Like” it. Look around, and then purchase a copy for yourself and your children, your nieces and nephews, your friends children!
As a survivor of Childhood Sexual Assault myself, I would have loved to have had a book like this to encourage me during a very confusing time. As it is, I did not tell anyone until my late 30’s.
Naomi has taken a highly emotional and sensitive subject, and written simply, but effectively; having the ability to speak to a child on his or her level. Her words are a gentle encouragement to any child going through CSA to speak up. That is is okay, and SAFE to tell a secret of this nature.
“A Secret Safe to Tell,” as well as, the illustrations is done well. Any parent, grandparent, aunt or uncle can use this book as a tool to instruct children about inappropriate touching and child grooming.
I cannot recommend this book strongly enough! “A Secret Safe to Tell.” Our children and grandchildren can only benefit!
Cheryl Thompson Author
Whispers From My Heart — Emotional and Spiritual Healing from Childhood Sexual Assault
Sharing this from a friends site.
I point my finger at my chest, and question, almost in utter disbelief. “Surely, you don’t mean me?”
“Yes,” He said. “I do mean you.”
I tried to wrap my head around that thought. Me. A Jew asking me, a Samaritan for a drink?
I continue to draw water into the earthen pot. I didn’t expect to see anyone here. Usually, I make a point to come to the well long after the other women have gone. I don’t like the looks they give me… or the contempt – I have enough of that for myself. I really don’t need them to tell me what a failure I am. All I have to do is go back home to a man I am not even married to, or think about the amount of suffering I have endured from the hands of men since my childhood. Men using me for their own gratification. These women only care to see the outside, and they will assume what they want to assume. They don’t care to look beneath the surface. But, this man speaks to me of secret things he could not possibly know about me. His words strike my heart. My soul is set ablaze by the words he speaks. I want to hear more.
As I ponder his words, I offer him a drink. How does this man know these things about me? He doesn’t look familiar. I don’t believe I have seen him here before. Certainly, as a Jew, he is breaking all the rules of the traditions the Jews hold in high esteem. Ha. Ha. Can you imagine what the other women would think about this?
“If you knew who it is speaking to you, you would instead ask me for Living Water. This is the water, that, if you drink of it, you will never thirst again.”
“Are you serious”? The words came out so fast, I couldn’t stop them. I slapped my hand over my mouth. It was the strangest concept I have ever heard! “Sir, are you telling me I could drink this water and, magically never thirst again? That is the funniest thing I have ever heard. You have nothing with which to draw water from the well. How am I to taste of this water, sir? Are you greater than Jacob, our Father, who gave us this well? Please, sir, give me a taste!”
His eyes were gentle. His face kind. “First,” He said, “go and get your husband.” His eyes penetrated my soul with such love and warmth, I felt as though my insides were melting.
“My husband?” I stammered. “Sir, I do not have a husband.”
“You have spoken the truth. You have had 5 husbands, and the man you are with now is not your own.”
I dropped my pot to the ground as his words penetrated my heart, yet again. His words burning my whole being. He bent to steady the vessel for me. “You must be a prophet, sir. You know, our ancestors worshiped here on this mountain, but you Jews claim the only place to worship is in Jerusalem.”
Believe me, woman, a time is coming when those who worship God won’t worship him on this mountain, or in Jerusalem. You Samaritans worship, yet you do not really know who it is you worship. We worship God whom we know, for salvation is from the Jews. Yet, I tell you the time has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth. These are the true worshipers the Father seeks. Do you understand that God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth?”
“I know, sir, the Messiah will come, and when he does, he will explain it all to us.” My heart skipped a beat. For the first time I could see a smile spread across his face. A twinkle lit his eyes.
“I, the one speaking to you now – I am he.”
Such profound words falling upon my ears. I didn’t notice the Disciples walk up. The realization of who I was talking to was still sinking into my heart and soul. Somehow, I already knew. In the way his words cut right through me; straight to the heart.
The Disciples didn’t seem pleased Jesus was talking to a Samaritan, and a woman at that! But they didn’t say a word. They just looked on with eyes wide open. But, I didn’t care. The Messiah was standing right in front of me! The One who was coming to free us all. He was here, speaking to me, a woman of great sin.
I have to go. I must run back to my village and let them know who is here and how he has come to set us free! The Messiah is here! And he has chosen me, a woman of lowly stature, and ill repute, to go and preach the Kingdom of the Gospel of Christ.
Do you see what he has done? He has come, even for the likes of me. An outcast of society, he has come to save. He has come.
If you recognize this story, it is from John chapter 4, “The Woman at the Well.” An idea of the conversation that may have taken place on that day.
Award winning, poet and author, Cheryl A. Thompson, has been a single mother to Trey, Charlie and Brett since October of 1989. Through the trials of her childhood, and the struggles of single-parenthood, Cheryl has learned the importance of a heart attitude toward life and God, and how that attitude impacts a person’s soul and their relationship with God. She is a 1983 graduate of Christ For the Nations, Institute, in Dallas, Texas, and a 2012 graduate of Mid-Continent University in Mayfield, Kentucky. Cheryl has been published in the FaithWriters quarterly book, FaithWriters online magazine, and a contributing writer for the Christ For the Nations—60 Years of Service coffee table book released in October of 2009. She has published articles in Heart Magazine 2012 and WHOA Women Magazine 2013. Her first book, Whispers From My Heart – Emotional and Spiritual Healing from Childhood Sexual Assault, was published in November 2009.
I pushed my coffee cup to the side and stared out the window. My tears fell easily.
“I’m so angry,” I told my friend. “I just can’t see past the pain.”
I picked at the napkin in my hand. I could feel the simmer of my anger.
“Don’t you see how that anger is holding you back from healing?”
“I don’t know if I can let it go, Ang.”
Angie is right, I know she is. I haven’t been able to let go for years… too many years. Anger has been my motivation. If I let it go, then where would I be? How would I cope? “I’ve held on to this anger for most of my life. I don’t know how to let it go.”
Tears streamed down my face, but I didn’t care if the other patrons in the diner saw me. My pain was real and these tears validated the depth of my pain. Angie reached across the table and covered my hands with hers. Her face etched with my pain.
“I understand how deeply you were hurt, Rebecca, but keeping this anger inside is only going to eat you up inside. It will keep your heart hard, and away from God’s healing power.”
“I know.” I whimpered.
I had been a Christian since I was fourteen years old. I understood why God wanted me to release this anger into his hands. But, I couldn’t. It wasn’t fair of God to ask me to let it go. He, of all people, should understand why I am so angry! He saw the depth of depravity they drug me through. He knows what those men did. God only knows how many people saw those pictures Rick took. I was only eight years old! I deserved to be angry! Don’t I?
“You know, Rebecca,” Angie began, “God understands why you are angry. And, according to the world, you have every right to be. God isn’t mad at you because you feel anger at what those men did. He is angry too. But, your anger is not accomplishing anything. It only hurts you. God’s anger, on the other hand, will accomplish what he wants it to accomplish. He isn’t going to let them off of the hook. They still have to answer for their sin against you. God wants you to release your anger to him, so you can be free from the past. Don’t you see how your anger against those men keep you tied to them? Keeps you tied to their abuse? The longer you hold on, the less likely you are to heal.”
I hate that she is right. I can feel God’s Spirit tugging at my heart; telling me she’s right… telling me to let it go. ‘God, it’s so unfair that you’re asking me to do this!’ as if screaming in my head would change God’s mind.
“God wants to heal you, Rebecca, but you’ve got to let him do what he needs to do in you. If you won’t release your anger, he is at a stand-still. You are literally stopping him from completing his work in you… do you understand that?”
Why is she always so spot on?
“Anger is natural, but you don’t express it. You keep it bottled up inside. That’s not healthy. Not only is it hurting you spiritually, it is hurting you physically. I see some of the signs, already. **Depression. Anxiety. Those are the things I can see. But, what about what I can’t see? There are all sorts of physical ailments repressed anger can cause. You could give yourself a heart attack. A stroke. Abdominal pain. Insomnia. Headaches, and high blood pressure.”
Wow. If she only knew my stomach always hurt, and sleep was next to impossible to obtain every night! Oh, wait. God knows! Is that why she keeps stabbing me with her words? God keeps exposing my wound and pouring on the salt.”
“I don’t want to see you suffer any more than you already have, Bec. It’s been a long haul, you deserve some peace.” Angie stroked my hand with her thumb. “You know I love you. I want the best for you. Think how much more God wants the best for your life. Your future. You know his plans are meant for good, right? He would never ask you to do something that would harm you. He wants you to be free from the past.”
Oh, God, help me to let it go! Help me to put this anger in your hands! Help me to be free!
“Angie,” I looked her in the eyes for the first time since we sat down. My heart pounded. Tears rolled down my face again. My breath stuck. “Pray for me…” My voice is barely a whisper. Strong emotion choked my words… “Since I gave my heart to Jesus, I told him the main thing I have always wanted to do, was to be obedient to whatever he asked of me… but I can’t do this on my own. I need help.”
“It’s okay, Rebecca.” Angie was crying too. I’m sure the other patrons wondered what was taking place in the corner booth. I wondered if they could feel the presence of God the way I could. Did they know God was meeting us at Denny’s? Could they feel a miracle taking place?
“Let’s pray now.”
Angie squeezed my hands as we bowed our heads.
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How anger affects your body, here.
For a biblical response to anger, please go here.
Purchase “Whispers From My Heart” here.
Award winning poet and author, Cheryl A. Thompson, has been a single mother to Trey, Charlie and Brett since October of 1989. Through the trials of her childhood, and the struggles of single-parenthood, Cheryl has learned the importance of a heart attitude toward life and God, and how that attitude impacts a person’s soul and their relationship with God. She is a 1983 graduate of Christ For the Nations, Institute, in Dallas, Texas, and a 2012 graduate of Mid-Continent University in Mayfield, Kentucky. Cheryl has been published in the FaithWriters quarterly book, FaithWriters online magazine, and a contributing writer for the Christ For the Nations—60 Years of Service coffee table book released in October of 2009. She has published articles in Heart Magazine 2012 and WHOA Women Magazine 2013. Her first book, Whispers From My Heart – Emotional and Spiritual Healing from Childhood Sexual Assault, was published in November 2009.