Pure

Before writing this blog, I had a rough idea of what I wanted to present. But after a beautiful fellowship time with Jane last night, I am convinced that my heart is being pressed to write about something completely different.
I’m not going to lie; being completely open and vulnerable with what I’m about to share to a bunch of anonymous, online viewers is a very scary step to me. But I am confident that God is going to use what I’m about to bring into the light to encourage those reading this, and those who are struggling in this same category.

I was physically attacked by spiritual forces this week. It was a very intense week of fighting. The week began with being fiercely sick and discouraged, filled with doubts about having a bright future and deeply questioning my stance as a daughter of The King. I received a few messages from people, sending love and encouragement. I plugged in the worship music, non-stop, gearing my mind to Christ’s truths, instead of indulging into my heated, unreliable emotions. It was rough, but I continued to ignore the lies and bounced back into everyday life.
Well, at least I thought I was bouncing back just fine…

On Thursday, I went into town to get a few things. On my way home, I had just gotten onto a taxi, and I felt a sudden, sharp, stabbing pain in the middle of my back. It was as if someone behind me was stabbing me with a really long tack or needle, and I could feel it go right through me. I doubled over in pain, pretending to fix my shoe because I didn’t want to create a scene. I glanced quickly behind me; no one was there.
Normally, I would rule out the possibilities of what it could be before assuming anything spiritual. But before I could even begin to think of any possibilities, something said, “This is voodoo; pray right now.”
What.
I began praying under my breath, binding whatever this was back in the name of Jesus, and claiming my stance as a child of Christ. Within a minute or two, it was instantly gone.
When I got home, I tried to look for any marks on my back; nothing.

After dinner last night, I asked Jane if she had experienced any spiritual attacks like I had just experienced a few days ago. It astonishes me how God knows our hearts so well, that He knows the exact moment when we need encouragement, and how much we really need.

It started out as a question, seeking a point of view, seeking advice of how to handle the abundant darkness and witchcraft that goes on here.
It turned into God speaking through a beautiful vessel to encourage another.

I have struggled with very dark, spiritual attacks ever since Christ opened my eyes. The enemy has been trying ever since Thanksgiving weekend, October 2014, to destroy my vision again. The thief has been trying to steal, kill, and destroy the joy I have in my Father the moment I first surrendered to Him. Every attack I have ever experienced has to do with either death, temptations from my past (drugs, alcohol, sex), the shaking of my identity in Christ, or all of the above. Almost every morning (big emphasis on “almost”), I have had to read my Bible, claim my stance as a daughter of Christ, and ask God to give me strength for the day. I have grown so much in learning how to discipline myself to do that every morning. The truth is; if I miss just one of those things, the enemy takes up the space I left blank. He knows my biggest weakness, my biggest regret that I’m still trying to believe God will have a purpose for, my greatest, sorrowful memory that makes me feel sick every time I just think about it: my purity.

I feel dirty.

The enemy takes his chance to shoot his perfectly wicked arrow:
“How do you live with yourself, knowing that you will never be able to be a good, Christian wife one day?”

Numb.
It paralyzes me; I feel broken.

The condemning words pierce me like a million bee stings, leaving me swollen and stung.
For over a year, the word “purity” has made me squirm and want to vomit. I read my Bible about being a new creation, being made new, being restored. I want to believe it; I want to believe that I am made new. I want to believe that Christ has transformed me, and continues to do so. I want to believe that the “good, Christian wife” standard is overrated, and just lie that Satan and his unruly demons taunt me with.
Some days are easier than others, it is seriously so hard.

I cannot tell you how many times I have cried out to The Lord in distress, shame, guilt, disgust, for giving away a beautiful gift that was not meant to open “before Christmas.” So many times, I have desperately begged God to restore my brokenness and take away my shame. I have spent countless nights madly journaling prayers, waiting for The Lord’s presence to overtake the guilt and dirtiness I still feel from past mistakes. I have tried to make myself continually believe that God will use this awful mistake for His good, even though I don’t understand how He ever could. I daily surrender this awfully intense struggle, because I know how weak I really am, and I so often just fall into His arms from the battle raging against me. However, even after surrendering, I find myself still carrying the weight of this unnecessary burden. I am tired. I am exhausted of this fight. I feel like I have been running for so long, and the finish line is impossible to reach. Although I am aware that this type of exhausted thinking is exactly where the enemy is wanting me to be, I can’t help but be so tired of this struggle. So many times, He has answered me, telling me that He is healing me in His time, that His truth is truth; no matter if I feel it or not. Truth doesn’t need feeling to be true.

Why can’t I just get it, already?

It started out with a simple question in attempt to find information, which turned into me telling Jane my experience a few days prior. That turned into the subject of our experiences with spiritual attacks, which turned into what our struggles are. That turned into telling Jane my testimony, which turned into an overall fellowship time with a beautiful woman. Jane began to tell me how blessed she is by me, how she sees it takes a special person to do what I am doing, how she loves me so, how I am the apple of God’s eye. She told me how she feels so strongly that God is going to use me in such a huge way, where He uses what the enemy believes to be a weakness, He creates it into something beautiful.

She prayed with me, over me.
I can honestly say that I have never heard anyone pray as genuinely and inspiring as Jane. It was breathtaking.
I am so beyond blessed by this gentle, God-fearing servant.
After “Amen” both left our lips, she kept hold of my hands, looked me in the eyes, and said, “Kezia, you have a new name. You are a new creation.”

I almost lost it.
In fact, while I am typing right now, I am losing it.
It has clicked. It has become real.

I am a pure, child of God. I am a daughter of a King.

Although I know that I will still struggle in the shaking of my identity in the days to come by dark hindrances, nothing and no one can steal my position on this victorious mountaintop.
I am a new creation. I am not my past choices and failures, I am who God sees me today; His purified servant. A purified bride of Christ.
Just as the enemy knew that this was my greatest, most shameful regret, God knew too.
God knows. He knows my struggles, He knows my heart better than I. He has heard the hopeless cries in the hours I spent calling to Him. He knows my brokenness, my identity crisis.
But He has thrown my old self into the sea of forgetfulness. And I will continue to fight the good fight, even though the really means getting on my knees, and surrendering to The One who has already won the battle. This weakness, every weakness, has just proven how much more I need Him every hour. His Spirit will prevail.

Pure.

I’m beginning to like that word.

“So there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.” – Romans 8:1

“Morning, noon, and night I cry out in my distress, and the Lord hears my voice. He ransoms me and keeps me safe from the battle waged against me, though many still oppose me.” – Psalm 55:17-18

“My old self has been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.” – Galatians 2:20

“This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” – 2 Corinthians 5:17

 

 

 

 

 

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