What To Do When Parents Abuse – By Thomas J. Koester

“Fathers, don’t irritate your children and make them resentful; instead, raise them with the Lord’s kind of discipline and guidance.” – Ephesians 6:4

When strangers or acquaintances abuse us, it hurts, but not as much as when it’s a sibling, mom, or dad. You see, all of our identity and self-worth are derived from family but especially from our parents. When their abuse is emotional, spiritual, verbal, physical, etc., it attacks the core of our identity.

Toni and I are battling 35 years of abuse with her family, and especially with her parents.

Toni’s father was a pastor for most of Toni’s life. What she encountered as abuse was spiritual and religious in nature, steeped in legalism and perfectionism. Her mother told Toni and her siblings to deny their feelings. To go against instinct – to submit beyond question. To fear fear. Accept failure but to keep quiet. To compromise inner truth for outer fakeness.

My story was filled, as you may know, with physical and violent abuse. I dare say, I prefer the abuse that I endured more than what my dear Toni, has endured, and still does to this day!

I’ve asked a question several times over the years when speaking at men’s retreats and gatherings.

“Which would you rather have, a broken leg or a broken heart?”

Everyone in the room, shouted:

“A broken leg!”

This is because most of us, sadly, are well acquainted with the deep pain of a broken heart and the countless years of suffering.

My wife’s heart, while broken during her adolescent life, is undergoing healing over her adult years as she walks with God. Her healing could be accelerated if her parents would join her in her healing journey.

Yet, her parents want her and me, too, to “see no evil, hear no evil, and speak no evil.” This silence and blindness to evil has allowed the unmitigated reign of evil over many in her family. It’s painful to watch, but prayer gives us our only hope.

However, religious abuse is hard to see, because it looks socially acceptable—it looks so spiritual! Sadly, the abuse that Toni is suffering has wreaked havoc on her innocence. Her frailty. Her femininity. On her mind. On her heart and soul. This caused her to feel spiritually dirty most of her life and hyper-subjective.

Because her abuse was from religious parents, it locked her into a prison of impossible expectations. A perfectionism that not even God would impose. Right? God’s perfection is imputed or placed upon us by the works of Jesus. Toni was expected to be perfect by religious means and not by divine decree. Sadly, this is the story of many children who are fathered by ministers.

So, how do we forgive mom or dad, or both?

“Honor your father and mother so that you may live long in the land and that it may go well with you.” – Deuteronomy 5:16

Remember, this is God’s command with no prerequisites. It’s his 5th commandment—smack-dab in the middle!

One reason God gives us this command is because parents, by design, are to be “lesser gods” to their offspring. The fifth commandment can also be applied to God.

Honor [God] so that you may live long in the land and that all my go well with you.

So, when we dishonor our parents, we also dishonor God, and we put great risks to our well-being and life expectancy.

But what about abusive parents? Are we to honor our abusers?

Here’s the question: Did God give us our parents, or did God give us to our parents?

It’s important to know, for several reasons.

The Allmighty of Scriptures is the Sovereign God. He’s the divine architect and the builder. He is motivated by nothing else than his will and purpose. Also, scripture is quite clear that God is very relational, right down to the individual — the individual parent and child. It boggles the mind, or at least mine, that God thought of you, me, and our parents before space and time!

“Before the creation of the world, he chose us through Christ to be holy and perfect in his presence.” – Ephesians 1:4

“The Lord formed me from the beginning before he created anything else. I was appointed in ages past, at the very first, before the earth began. – Proverbs 8:22-23

You see, we simply cannot deny that God put us into the care, good or bad, of our parents. We also can’t deny that God, intimately knowing you before earth began, appointed you to your parents. God is involved in both choices of parents to children and children to parents. There is nothing random about it! We had no say in the transaction.

Rather, God, in his wisdom, has appointed us to our parents, knowing fully that he will establish the commandment to honor them without hesitation and reservation. And that this commandment comes with a two-fold promise — all will go well with you and that you may have a long life on the earth.

But still, the question of forgiveness for our mom’s and dad’s abuse is unanswered for millions of hurting children of all ages, churched or unchurched.

I do want to address child abuse for those children who are still adolescent. It is not dishonoring to mom or dad if you seek help. This is for those children who are being physically or sexually abused by one or both parents. Speak to a pastor, teacher, school counselor, or coach. These people are required by law to notify Child Protective Services. Your safety is of utmost importance!

But for adult children, whereby we have moved out from mom’s and dad’s house, or perhaps they’re deceased. It’s not that forgiveness is optional. Rather, it is a necessity! Forgiving them is also about honoring them.

Many years ago, while living in Antioch, California, I invited my mother over to have a conversation. It was my plan to recall all the abuse that I had suffered by her hand.

It was just me and mom, sitting together in my home office when I began to unload on her. I was not angry or hard on my mom. I spoke from my heart and carefully described my hurts and scars.

Beginning at age 18 months old, I recalled quite accurately the violent physical abuse my little body suffered in the fit of her rage. I continued each remembrance, each story, as though it had just occurred; from 18 months through my 18th year! At the end of each story, with tears of remembrance traversing my bearded face, I said:

“Mom, I forgive you.”

… My mother just sat there, emotionless, and then replied:

“I don’t remember any of that.”

While her response was painful, I was not completely dispirited. You see, because my forgiveness wasn’t just for her, it was for me, too. While my exchange with mom was difficult, it came from my heart, not to condemn her, but to restore her—to restore us. To move the offense out of the way between mother and son. So that I could love her again. I didn’t need her permission to forgive her, as it was me letting go of all her hurtful acts.

Another twelve years would pass before my mother confessed and agreed to her abusive behavior. Her awakening happened just a few short days before she passed on Mother’s Day, May 11, 2008. It was just my mom and me again, but this time we met in her home. Unquestionably, God was there with mother and son. Both our hearts were tenderized by her battle with pancreatic cancer and softened by God’s mercy and grace. I again forgave my mother, and she humbly accepted my forgiveness as I accepted hers.

How do you know you have forgiven? When you can love them again.

It’s humanly impossible for us to forgive those who have treacherously abused or wronged us. Forgiveness is only possible through God’s grace and empowerment from Jesus Christ. And through Him, we can love again those who have wounded us with broken bones and shattered hearts. It’s called Agape Love — the love of God working in and through us.

My mother didn’t deserve my forgiveness, God required it of me. He knew it would bless me with a good and long life on earth. It was my opportunity to honor my mother. Grace, mercy, forgiveness, and God’s love are what triumphed here. It is what empowered me to do the impossible, which was to forgive my abuser—my own mother.

“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!” – Isaiah 49:15

Just a few days before my mom’s death, God rembeberd me, and my mom, too. He rescued us both!

Here’s another helpful verse of Scripture written in the last Old Testament book and in the last two verses of the last chapter of Malachi:

“See, I will send the prophet Elijah to you before that great and dreadful day of the Lord comes. He will turn the hearts of the parents to their children and the hearts of the children to their parents; or else I will come and strike the land with a curse.” – Malachi 4:5-6

God softened my heart, and in turn, he softened my mother’s heart. Because of heartfelt forgiveness, my land is no longer cursed. My life is free from bitterness, resentment, and hate. I can honestly say that I miss my mom. She would be 92 years this past February, 25, 2025. Without a doubt, she’s basking in the presence of God, fully forgiven!

What about you? I encourage you, too, to forgive. Even if your parents and abusers are dead. Even more so, forgive them. You see, if they have died, then they’ve met the judge, and justice was measured upon them. All that is left for you is to forgive them and let them go so that you, too, can live well in the land.

Unforgiveness harms no one but yourself. It rots away your present life and eats away at your future. That’s the definition of a cursed life. Kick pride out of your life. It’s killing you! Humble yourself, and God himself will lift you up!

Now you know what to do when parents abuse.

Have courage, my dear friend, trust in God’s Word, and hold tightly to His promises. Though mom or dad may have forgotten you, God never forgets!

Forgiveness is your pathway to living a long and healthy life in the land!

My Name Is Shame

The Loss of Identity & Worth

By Thomas J. Koester

Hello, my name is Shame.

Well, this is what I thought my name was—not because my mom and dad called me Shame, but somehow, in their inflection—when they used my real name—shame is what I had felt. Shame is my earliest memory—which, believe it or not, I was only eighteen months old!

In the spring of 1961, I was a toddler, sitting on my highchair in Paramus, New Jersey, about to eat my very first peanut butter sandwich. My mom had skillfully cut the crust away and segmented my sandwich into four small squares. I remember staring at the plate mom placed on my stainless steel highchair tray. I guess I’m supposed to eat it, so I curiously picked up a square, oozing with peanut butter, and touched it to my lips and tongue. My immediate reaction was to curl my mouth and retract my tongue in disgust while drooling the pasty peanut butter from my mouth to my chin.

Without provocation, my mom grabbed the sandwich square, mauled it into a ball, grabbing my chubby cheeks so hard it forced my mouth to open. She then, with an angry face, tightly gritted teeth, she began shoving the sandwich into my little and nearly toothless mouth, pushing so hard it caused me to choke, gasping for air! Suddenly, my gag reflex kicked in, and I threw up milk and whatever else made it to my stomach all over the highchair tray!

Suddenly, and shockingly, my mom slapped me so hard, me and the highchair nearly tipped over! For what seemed like minutes, or at least until my breath came back into my tiny lungs, I let out a blood curdling scream! While being confused and terrified, my mother slapped me again for crying. To this day, I still hate peanut butter sandwiches.

As an eighteen-month old toddler, I couldn’t process that event in any other way than to conclude something is terribly wrong with me. And this is what shame does; It robs you of your identity and lessens your self-worth. You don’t even know it’s happening, especially if you’re raised in a house of shame.

I have so many of these kinds of memories that it could easily fill an entire book! I will, however, share one more childhood memory of shame for context.

Don’t Pee Outside!

One summer day when I was a normal seven year old boy, one of my siblings tattled on me, reporting to mom:

“Tommy peed outside!”

My mom quickly called me inside to the kitchen, where she did most of her interrogations;

“Did you pee outside?”

—Sitting across the table was my mom’s best friend, Gloria Martin—

With fear and trepidation, I cautiously nodded my head, yes. My mom’s angry face was enough for me to repent, but by seven, I had learned that this was the precursor to shame and abuse.

My mother reached towards the left side of our kitchen table and grabbed a small pair of curved pedicure scissors. Simultaneously, she commanded me to pull down my pants. She then yanked down my underwear, exposing my penis in front of Mrs. Martin.

Mother grabs my penis, stretching it out, and with the scissors in her left-hand proceeds, or at least convinced me she was going to cut it off! I was brutally shamed and abused. Although, as a seven year old little boy, my faculty of reason was undeveloped. I could only interpret the abuse and shame that something is incurably wrong with me. That, and hundreds of days like it, might be the reason my name, Tommy, Tom, or Thomas, was replaced with the name, Shame.

I think chronically shaming a person is similar to murder. I’m not a forensic pathologist nor a psychologist, but isn’t murder when you premeditatedly end the life of a human being? Shame kills identity and destroys self-worth. Shame replaces the spark of life and light with darkness and a desire to cease living.

Several years ago, I was investigating a burned out office building in Berkeley, California. Everything was darkly sooted and smelled heavily of smoke and ash. I was there to measure the fire and smoke damage for an insurance company. As I was photographing each room, I entered one office that had several floor to ceiling shelves filled with books. All the books were heavily sooted and many soaked with water by the fire department. Except, one book, which stuck out a bit. Puzzled as to why this book was so clean, I pulled the book from the shelf. On the cover was a mother sitting on a chair with two small murdered children under one arm and a knife in her other hand. The title of the book:

“Soul Murder – Child Abuse and Deprivation” By LL Shengold – 1989

Needles to say, I had to read it!

To summarize the book a bit:

“Soul murder involves the deliberate traumatization or deprivation by an authority (parent) of his charge (child). The victim is robbed of his identity and of the ability to maintain authentic feelings. Soul murder remains effective if the capacity to think and to know has been sufficiently interfered with—by way of brainwashing – Paradoxically, in order to survive and adjust, some of these people so traumatized as children develop unusual strengths and gifts.”

While this book is highly clinical, I began to unravel and understand what eighteen years living in a house of shame and abuse did to me. Tommy, Tom, or Thomas was soul murdered and the imposter, named Shame had taken his place.

This is not a hopeless story. Yes, it had been a story of physical and psychological abuse and years of despair and deprivation. But my story is actually very much hope-filled. I hope the telling of my story may be the catalyst for you, too, to find hope and healing.

My Safe House

Almost every spy thriller or story of espionage has a safe house. Well, at ten years old, I had my safe house, too. Only, it’s not the safe house of spy movies, filled with firearms, passports, and bags of currency. Nope, my safe house was church!

Church was the only place my mother couldn’t hurt me—even if she was within a swift and accurate backhand to my face, she wouldn’t dare strike me. I learned that Church was not only a safe place for an abused little boy but also a safe place for fake and phony people, like my mommy dearest. Churches rarely will preach, if at all, against child abuse within the home. I think partly because far too many pastors abuse their own families for the sake of “ministry.”

One thing you learn in a shamed-based family is that sometimes moms or both parents will use their children as props. For some children, like me, being a “prop” can destroy your sense of “me” to where you are nothing more than an image or an appendage of your mother. If it sounds incestuous, then you’re correct because it is. It doesn’t have to be sexual in nature to be incestuous. For me, it meant that I, along with my siblings, were used for our mother’s psychological and physical pleasure. We were all adornments that added to our mother’s glittering image. We were less than human. We were little shame-bots who obeyed our mother’s abusive shaming tactics.

There was no greater day of the week for my mother to excel in her fakery than on Sunday. Sunday was my mother’s morning masquerade! She would dress us five boys with button-down shirts, ties, sports coats, spit-polished wingtip shoes, and our hair plastered perfectly with Dippity-doo hair gel of the Sixties and Seventies! My little and only sister was dressed like Shirley Temple! Boy, but we were a real hit in Church! We looked, and, albeit forcibly so, played our parts as the “perfect Christian family” like trained little monkeys!

The fake “perfect Christian family” persona only hid the shame and abuse of all six of us siblings. While Church was my safe house, just like safe houses in spy thrillers, sooner or later, the bad guys crash it. Somehow, my mommy dearest found a way of shaming me in Church with a look that said, “wait till I get you home!”

My New Name

With the name, Shame, so indelibly written into my psyche, a name and identity change were impossible for me. Even though I became a Christian at my safe house, Bethany Baptist Church in Martinez, California, nothing changed in the Koester House of Shame.

I want you to understand that it’s not the house of shame in a family or church that needs to change. We do. Yes, some churches can become a house of shame also. After all, churches are made up of families, too, and ideally, are to become one healthy family. However, like dysfunctional and shamed-based families, sadly, some churches and religious organizations can also be shame-based. You should remove yourself from a shamed-based family and church in order to get healthy.

When you get healthy and free from a shame-based culture, family, or church, you will make healthier decisions, and you’ll see more clearly. Clearly enough to walk with God and maybe a godly counselor and begin the healing process.

My New Life

As I began to grow in my faith and reading of Scripture, I learned that my real worth and identity come from my Creator, God. In spite of what many people believe, God is not the “great shamer” in the sky. He’s not abusive or unjust. When Jesus of Nazareth began his public ministry, he walked into a synagogue, opened up a scroll handed to him, and read the following from the Prophet Isaiah:

“The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me because the LORD has anointed me; he has sent me to preach good tidings unto those who are cast down; to bind up the wounds of the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those that are bound; to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn; to order in Zion those that mourn, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of despair.”

When I first read this, light came bursting into my darkened prison cell of shame! You see, Church is not an end to a means, but the means to an end of shame and abuse. Church is where I met the God of my Salvation and the Healer of my murdered soul! A good and healthy Church not only preaches the Gospel (“Gospel” is a Greek word used in the Bible, which means “Good News”). But a healthy church is a fellowship and family of broken people becoming whole together. It’s not a recovery group, per se; it’s a group of humble people living a restored and recovered life! Jesus himself promised that if we believe him, we will have life:

“The thief’s purpose is to steal, kill, and destroy. My purpose is to give life in all its fullness.” –John 10:10

“Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.” –John 11:25

Do you see how this is such good news to a broken, abused, and shamed little boy, as me?

God took away the imposter’s name of Shame and bestowed a new name upon me; I am God’s restored and Beloved Son! He healed my broken heart, set me free from captivity, opened my prison doors of shame and despair, and resurrected my murdered soul! My identity and worth is better than restored—I’m a new creation—fully pardoned for all my sins and clothed in Jesus’s righteousness. I’m no longer dressed to impress my mother, her peers, or her friends.

I AM FREE!

My name is Thomas James Koester

Shame no longer lives here!

The Power of Forgiveness – A True Story – By Thomas J. Koester

“Reconciliation Starts Here – Forgiveness Starts Here–This is Why it is Such A Powerful Weapon”

Christ came to reconcile our past and future so that we may live real and abundant lives in the present. Time and forgetfulness can not heal old wounds. This is why Christ announced his anointing through the reading of Isaiah 61:

“The Sovereign Lord is upon me and has anointed me to preach good news to the spiritual poor and impoverished, to heal the broken hearted; setting captives free, and proclaiming release for the imprisoned.”

Yes, he came for our salvation, but he also came for our healing; to release us from our captivities and to set us free from our bondages. All of these things are from our past. The above list is most often what has happened to us, and Christ is ready to go there with you.

I was the guest speaker at a men’s retreat a few years ago for a men’s group from a church that I had not visited or was I familiar with. At the opening of the retreat, I was introduced to all the men in the group, and one of the men was familiar to me. I introduced myself to this gentleman, and I immediately recalled that this was the man who had molested me as a child, some forty six years earlier.

What ended up happening was nothing short of a miracle and the beauty of the Kingdom of God – peace between the lion and the lamb was about to occur. God had given me the message of reconciliation and forgiveness a few days before the retreat. But before God would allow me to share this message, he asked me to reconcile with that man now, and at that moment, and to forgive him before I do anything else.

So, with God’s grace and power, I cooperated with His Spirit of forgiveness and mercy. I had kept this man’s offense to myself and proceeded with the rest of the retreat. I walked with God into my past. Christ Jesus brought us peace, healing, freedom, and release. Chains fell off that weekend, and a new friendship was born.

Later, I learned that this man had become a Christian shortly after he had molested me so many decades ago. But, until I had forgiven him, I was buried under a mountain of shame.

God, through Christ Jesus, is reconciling the world back to God and even our past. Sometimes, his Spirit of Grace brings us backward to reconcile past hurts, past captivities, and past imprisonments. Whether it’s us behind the bars of hatred and unforgiveness, or the whether we’re the jailer, holding the keys for someone else’s past offenses. We have a divine weapon against fear, hatred, and bitterness, and its called forgiveness!

Through the Men’s Retreat, God had shown me that we can only stumble over our past if it is left in a state of unforgiveness and left unreconciled. Because God is eternal, the Alpha and Omega, he exists in our past, present, and future. The works of Christ, destroying the works of the Devil in all the areas and seasons of our lives, are both completed and ongoing in a multidimensional way, unhindered by time and place.

All governments are upon his shoulders. The expanse of his Kingdom shall know no end. He is the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, Wonderful Counselor, and the Prince of Peace. Isaiah 9:6. He is there all the time, and in every area of our lives, past, present, and future, but you must believe and obey Him and listen to His voice.

I can not stress how significant the voice of the Lord is and how important it is to listen, follow, and obey. Read the Bible as though it’s written to you first before anyone else. You’ll then know what to do and how to do it.

“He has shown you, O man, what is good; and what the Lord requires of you, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God.” – Micah 6:8

We can enter into our future with triumph, because Jesus Christ has triumphed over our pasts, and if we work with him, he will bring us to the place of forgiveness, even forgiveness for our past enemies, abusers, and those who’ve betrayed our hearts. It worked out for me, and it can work out for you too!

Forgiveness is such a powerful weapon for good!

God presented me with the opportunity at that retreat – God did not force me to forgive. He simply set up the circumstances. I could’ve gone on hating the perpetrator, exposing him to public shame, condemnation, and ridicule. But hatred condemnation, shame, and self-ridicule were the same mountain on top of me, too.

God softened my heart and Jesus gentley lead me to the cross, and there, at His cross, in a miraculous way, both of our mountains were removed, our hearts softened and forgiveness was granted to us both.

Journey with God, as he leads you, and do not dismiss your past, but have the courage and faith to follow Him wherever he takes you.

Maybe the circumstance that you’re presented with here and now is your opportunity to also give and receive forgiveness.

I can promise you this, when you forgive it’s because God is already there.

“Reconciliation Starts Here – Forgiveness Starts Here – This is Why it is Such A Powerful Weapon.”

Tears of Sweet Nothing – The Unseen One – By Thomas J. Koester

“You’ve kept track of my every toss and turn, through the sleepless nights, each tear entered in your ledger, each ache is written in your book.” –Psalms 56:8

“He has not forgotten the one who is hurting. He has not turned away from his suffering. He has not turned his face away from him. He has listened to his cry for help.” –Psalms 22:24

Our family consisted of eight people, and we lived in our tiny 1400-square-foot, four-bedroom, two-bath home in a housing development in Martinez, CA. I lived there from late 1965 until July 1978.

During those years, I was forced to share a bedroom with my older brother Jeffrey, who is only sixteen months older than me. I had always thought it was a mistake for our parents to room Jeffery and me together, as we constantly fought and were at each other’s throats!

But at the same time, we were both there for each other, especially after we both were terribly beaten, sometimes separately, and at times together, we were lashed, punched, or kicked. During Those moments, Jeffrey and I would become friends and assuage each other’s wounds or share our complaints and anger about what had happened and the unfairness of it all. And maybe our brief times of fellowship and friendship were based on the principle: “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” Still, Jeffrey helped me as my older brother by caring for me when I was abused.

At times, we’d become fellow cellmates, imprisoned in our bedroom together for hours or perhaps for an entire day. However, I think Jeffrey had it much worse than me, if you can believe it!

At ten years of age, my life began to exhibit evidence of being soul murdered. Although physically alive, my trust and sense of safety were nearly gone. I was incapable of bonding and receiving love or belonging to anyone. The hole this created in me was too broad and deep for any human to fill. I was unwanted and unloved. The abuse was so horrific that it impacted my identity.

During those abusive years, I developed new titles: The Discarded One, The Disgraceful One, and the Unwanted One, which began to dictate my life and identity. My mother bestowed those titles upon me during her fits of rage.

I became a lost boy, un-fathered and un-mothered by nurture and love. My home was my house of horrors. I found solace in living a secret life of fantasy and daydreaming, similar to the 1947 movie with Danny Kaye called: “The Secret Life of Walter Mitty.”

In elementary school, I would sit there, daydreaming of some incredible feat or be far away on a voyage to uncharted islands of mystery. I always imagined myself as the hero.

After my father had passed away, I found a bundle of old report cards. One report card from my second-grade teacher, Mrs. Dodd, stood out. On the back of the report card was written a personal note to my parents:

“Thomas just seems to sit here in class, daydreaming.”

Growing up, you were always guilty in our home and never allowed the opportunity to plead your innocence. Even if one of my siblings tattled on me, it would often end up with a beating or punishment. The only thing protecting each of us from excessive tattling was the military doctrine of “Mutual Assured Beatings!” Even the tattler could be swept up in our mother’s rage, suffering a beating, too! So, we used tattling sparingly.

This created a hypersensitivity to injustice, yet I felt powerless to do anything about it. Even today, I am acutely sensitive to injustice against myself and others.

“Fate, it seems, is not without its sense of irony,” said Morpheus in the movie, “The Matrix.”
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Like Neo, the movie’s central character, he was powerless and a slave to a programmed existence. My “sense of irony” showed up in my career choices. I believe my sensitivity to injustice is why I have successfully settled claims on behalf of fire and water damage victims. I am empathetic to individuals and families being abused by Impersonal insurance companies that place shareholders above policyholders.

So, unknown to me, the terrible injustice I suffered as a child had fatefully trained me for my vocation. Perhaps it is more likely that the sense of irony is not fate, but rather, I became attracted to my career choices because of parental abuse and their unjust treatment.

Had there been an actual “Morpheus” in my life, it would have been so helpful to extricate me from the matrix of horrors. But, in fact, there was. This is why my hopeless story is so hope-filled. The name “Morpheus” actually means: ‘He who shapes.’ As you read on, you will learn through my story that there has indeed been, and continues to be, a “Morpheus” in my life.

Nevertheless, an undeniable force is shaping me through a maze of pain and struggle of good and bad days to a present joy-filled life, which now I would never trade or abandon. It would be like saying to a diamond, “Turn back into coal,” or to a pearl, “Turn back into a grain of sand.” I’m still in the “rough,” so to speak, and in between two extremes: the lightness of joy and contentment and the weightiness of pain and agony.

This precise pressure point masterfully creates diamonds of joy and the pearls of contentment within my life. Pain is never the product of this process, but joy and happiness are. Pain and agony are elements necessary to produce “suffering,” which produces eternal qualities and degrees of character that can not be developed in any other way.

So, in a nutshell, “Don’t waste your suffering!” It is the process of suffering that can lead to a fulfilling life! And so it is, I believe, for you, too. Your story is not an endless season of reruns but of purposeful and significant meaning.

“Rest, the answers are coming…” Said Morpheus to a perplexed and doubting Thomas Anderson at the beginning of his transformation into “Neo.”

By the way, you are transforming, and what that is will be revealed in time. The process you are in may be painful and even hopeless, but everything good and true, of worth and value, comes with pain and suffering. It is all a part of living and transforming. Until then, my dear friend, “Rest, the answers are coming…”

Be brave enough to journey into your past. Not alone like you have so many times before; no, this time, journey back with God. Invite Him into your past as your guide, comforter, and healer. Ask Him for wisdom and understanding. Then, prepare yourself to forgive those who’ve wounded and harmed you. Forgiveness is pivotal. Without it, you’ll remain imprisoned and tormented.

This was the journey that I took and am still on. This is how I learned the importance of forgiveness and the value of tears. Tears are the beginning of transforming from The Unseen One to God’s Beloved One.

God bless you on your journey!

The Story of My Second Birth – By Thomas J. Koester

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again, he can not see the kingdom of God.” –Jesus of Nazareth, John 3:3

Religion, unfortunately, can be filled with do’s and don’ts; traditionalism, legalism, hierarchy, and elitism are its hallmarks. I’m sure many of you have had good and bad experiences with religion.

My story isn’t about religion, however. It’s about new life, freedom, and forgiveness. I have gained hope and a future that can’t be found in any of the world’s religions or cults. It’s about an intimate connection and communication with the living and real presence of an incredibly loving God!

I wasn’t seeking God, nor did I strain to appease his wrath or try to win his favor. God pursued me. He revealed himself to me in such an amazing way! Even though His Word and Holy Spirit convicted me, God didn’t leave me in my guilt and shame.

You can’t turn away from your sins. That would make you your savior. Without a Savior, you’re left in an endless cycle of rinse and repeat. The active ingredient is true repentance, which comes only from God.

You see, this is the difference between true salvation and religion. Religion leaves you in your guilt and shame, but true salvation removes the stain of sin, guilt, and shame. Religion offers bondage, but God’s salvation, through Jesus Christ, brings forgiveness, a clear and clean conscious, and amazing freedom!

Okay, on to the story of my second birth…

I was ten years old and in Sunday morning service in Martinez, California, at Bethany Baptist Church, “The End Of Your Search For A Friendly Church,” their sign read.

Like so many Sundays before December 20, 1970, I heard the offer of Salvation at the end of each service. Only this time, as we sang a hymn, “Just One Plea,” which convicted my troubled ten-year-old heart.

Nonetheless, I sat there frozen, wanting to stand up but was too afraid. Sitting at a distance, to my right, was my Sunday School teacher, John C. Morgan. At that time, he was 84 and a Christian for 64 years. I loved that man as though he was my grandfather.

As the song continued, I struggled to sing the following words:

“Just as I am, without one plea
But that Thy blood was shed for me And that Thou bid’st me come to thee O Lamb of God, I come, I come…”

I looked towards John Morgan, and at his old leathered face; he gently smiled and motioned with his head in the direction of the center aisle. His gentle smile and motion gave me enough courage to stand up and walk my green mile to the altar, where I did business with the Son of God, Jesus Christ. Whereby I confessed and repented from the sins of a lost and guilt-ridden, ten-year-old little boy. Can a ten-year-old boy be guilty of sin? Do birds fly? Any honest parent or sibling knows the answer!

I placed my faith and belief in all that Jesus accomplished here and in heaven. I wept every step of that short journey to the altar but found indescribable joy at the moment of God’s salvation.

I am so saddened that many churches no longer do alter calls, or they do them, but only with every head bowed and every eye closed. No, my dear brothers and sisters, let salvation be seen! Allow God’s lost sons and daughters their time of triumphant entry into God’s amazing grace, mercy, and love!

Praise God for his indescribable love to those who believe and obey his good news! Seek God through Jesus his Son, here, now, while he can be found. Confess your sins, turn from them, and believe in the Son of God!

This December 20, 2024, will be my second birth celebration of 55 years as a Christ-follower.

I am a child of the Most-High God, all because Jesus Christ, His Son, took upon himself all of the wrath of God in my place.

God is the secret behind my 44-year marriage. He guided me as a faithful father. He made me into a man of peace. He softened my heart. He healed my broken and abused heart. He forgave me all of my sins. And, very importantly, he calls me son and allows me to call him Abba-Father! “Abba,” means daddy or poppa.

“Because you are his sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, “Abba, Father.”’ –Galatians 4:6

Don’t fall for burdensome religion; fall in love with God. He first loved you–loved you enough that His Son, Jesus Christ, took God’s wrath upon himself, so you, too, can become His son or daughter! Amen

The Cancellation of All Curses – By Thomas J. Koester

Over the past three decades, I have been curious to learn about the wounds I’ve suffered during my youth and formative years.

It’s not what will happen to you that will change your life, I spoke out one night of lecturing, but rather, what happened long ago has already changed your life.

The words we speak or shout at our children forever become their inner voice. It changes a child’s psyche, distorting their inner soul and eating away their future. Harsh words from mom and dad have tremendous prophetic meaning to a child.

And because of those words, you’ve been living a different trajectory. You’re living out a life that you were not meant to live. You’re living a cursed life.

While young and innocent, most of us knowingly or perhaps unknowingly have made life-changing vows or agreements while amid abuse, whether emotional, psychological, or physical. While eliciting powerful emotions of hate, anger, bitterness, or rage, these past hurts or wounds can conjure dark agreements with the Father of Lies.

John 8:44 says that all lies come from the Father of Lies, who is the Devil.

The devil’s strategy is to get us to make these dark vows and live from them. He uses the most important people in our lives to originate these lies. Some of these lies are:

You’re no good.
You’re unloveable.
You’re too ugly.
You’re too fat.
You’re too skinny.
You’re too stupid.
You’re a loser.
No one will ever want you.
You’ll always be a failure, etc.

And one that I heard all my life growing up was:

“What’s wrong with you?!?”

The list can be pretty long, and the voices of others soon become our voices, echoing self-deprecating and ugly curses over our hearts and minds—eating away at our future.

Unknowingly, our parents can speak the devil’s curses and lies over us at a time when we were mythical, fanciful, and magical of heart. Because children can believe the unbelievable, curses and lies become part of their identity and belief system. They end up living them out like prophecies written in ancient manuscripts. These “prophecies” direct their lives, careers, and relationships.

To bring healing to these past wounds and nullify the agreements is a path that only a few have taken. Even though freedom and wholeness are possible, many of us prefer to live in the seclusion and cover of darkness and duplicity. We’ve come too far or lived too long with our false persona; the mere thought of dismissing or exposing our poser-selves is too frightening.

So, we pose, playing hide and seek at work, home, and church. The longer we play this nightmarish game, the more hardened and sadistic we become to our wounded hearts and souls.

This process continues until we become addicted to sex, drugs, alcohol, and lies. Or, perhaps our drug of choice is our reputation or religiosity. Maybe we’ve masqueraded for so long that we’re lost even to ourselves!

The stress of chronic fakery is as deadly as a heart attack and a silent killer, just as hypertension and high blood pressure can kill you. Why, we’re simply a walking time bomb of contradictions, lies, and hypocrisies.

Oh, my dear friend, there is such hope, so I am writing to you. Please read on.

Isaiah has said, “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter.” Isaiah 5:20.

Jesus said, “… And if the light you think you have is darkness, how deep that darkness is!” Matthew 6:23.

I know all about this. This was and is my life. It is both my past and my journey. There is a redeemer and a healer. He is pursuing you, not to judge you, but to redeem, heal, and restore you to who you were meant to be!

Your True Father wants you back. As the late Brennen Manning has so often quoted:

“God accepts you as you are and not as you should be. Because you’re never going to be as you should be.”

The Good News is that it’s God’s responsibility to transform you as you should be.

Transformation is not your wife’s job, boss’s, or best friend’s — it’s not your pastor’s or priest’s job or any self-help guru’s to change you. It is the job of a loving God, who’s waiting for you to call out to him; “Abba,” “Papa,” or “Daddy,” or even “Father-God.”

The only way to the Father is through the Son. And it is the Son, Jesus Christ, who’s taken upon himself all the curses and dark vows ever spoken in any language and tongue against us, so that we may be loved rather than destroyed.

Do you see this? God can make your life awesome, if you allow him to take away all the crap, hurts, wounds, and pain inside of you.

Oh, and it can be taken away! All the guilt, shame, and self-loathing—all the self-hatred and hatred of others can be removed. All the self-doubts and doubting of others, all the lost trust of self and others, and the cynical and diabolic distrust and suspicion can, and will be gone!

Just say this prayer out loud, or even in a whisper:

Dear Jesus Christ, I stand before you, exposed, scared, ashamed, and afraid. I have lived a sinful life and have hurt myself and others. I confess to you my wrongdoings, my mistakes, and my faults. I acknowledge my need for forgiveness from you and my need to forgive others. I also forgive myself for the harm that I’ve done to me. I believe in your Word of Truth and that you lived a sinless life, died on a cross of suffering because you took upon yourself all my sin, all the curses spoken over me, and all my wrongdoings. You were buried in a tomb and were raised to life on the third day, making it possible for me to be forgiven and to have a new life, new hope, and a future. I believe these things in my heart, and I confess and acknowledge them with my mouth to be saved and redeemed. I am now your true son or daughter, and I can now call you my Abba-Father as you have put your Spirit into my transformed and purified heart forever and ever. Thank you for my salvation and healing in the Name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Now, live a new life and understand that you now belong to God as his child, and you’ve become his responsibility. He is no dead-beat-dad. He is a Mighty God, an Everlasting Father, a Wonderful Counselor, and the Prince of Peace. All authority is upon his shoulders, and His Kingdom shall know no end.

Welcome home to a loving God and an incredible Savior!

The danger is to do nothing. Doing nothing is to remain in darkness and under curses and false agreements. Do something with your new life and truly live! No longer agree with the dark voices in the back of your mind. Instead, reject their curses and evil thoughts in the Name and Authority of Jesus Christ!

Give the Father of Lies an Eviction Notice and cancel all your curses!

It’s All Just Cornflakes – By Thomas J. Koester

Toni and I often talk about life changes, boundaries, and priorities. But family always tops our list.

Watching our children grow up, getting married, and seeing them succeed in their careers is what brings us joy. But what’s much more important is their relationships with each other and their commitment to our family and to the families they’re building.

The older I get, inching closer to the end of life, the irony is that it forces you to live a more meaningful life now, or at least it should. To wait until retirement to prioritize family is a sad mistake that I think too many make.

We do need to die, in some respects, to those things which promote death and live more towards those things which promote life. It’s like choosing between bacon, which I love, but it fosters death, and beansprouts, which I hate but promote life. However, living life on hospital food is certainly no fun either. So, we strive for a balance. And, this is what my brush with death has taught me.

The movie “Click,” with Adam Sandler, has some great truths running through it, along with its great humor and satire.

Morty (The Angel of Death), played by Christopher Walken, tells Michael Newman, played by Adam Sandler, who’s fast-forwarding his way through life with an enchanted TV clicker:

Morty remarks:

“He’s always chasing the pot of gold, but when he gets there, at the end of the day, it’s just cornflakes.”

Towards the end of the movie (WARNING SPOILER ALERT), Michael finally gets it and cries out, in his throes of death:

Michael Newman: [dying] “Family, family… … FAMILY COMES FIRST.”

Isn’t it so true? Family should come first, and I can promise, in the very moment when life is quickly or slowly draining from your body, it’s family that first comes to your mind…

… I want to see our two grandchildren, with Josh and Jenny, grow up.

Oh my goodness, it’s Tessa’s 24th birthday, and I will miss it!

Tears began rolling down my face as I saw those moments of life fast-forwarding before me. That was my wake-up call at 2:30 in the morning, Friday, October 11, 2013, as I sat in triage at the Sonora Adventist Hospital all alone, and when the reality of “heart attack” was suggested by the ER physician.

I wanted to exchange “I love you” with my wife and children again! I wanted to see who’d become my son, Jordan’s wife, and welcome her into our family.

I confess that not one of my projects, clients, or deadlines entered my mind while facing the prospect of a heart attack. Not one more contract signing or one more insurance settlement, which I have to face, is most likely what put me in the hospital in the first place.

As it turned out, it wasn’t a heart attack, but me, attacking my heart because of too many “yeses” and not enough “nos.” My physician told me that too much stress could cause cardiac arrest.

I need to say a serious “YES” to life and a meaningful “NO” to death. It’s the wrong choices in those subtle moments that can soon pile up into a health crisis. It is all those times when the tyranny of less critical things overrules the more essential things of life.

“Let your yes mean yes, and your no mean no; anything more than that is from the Evil One.” Matthew 5:37 – Jesus of Nazareth

I don’t think striving to love your family correctly, keeping your promises, being home on time for dinner, or kissing your wife and kids goodbye in the morning has put anybody into the hospital.

Proverbs 4:23 says it best: “Guard your heart more than anything else because the source of life flows from it.”

It’s the redeemed heart where God lives that is our source of life. This, too, is where our families live and dwell. This is also where the love of our life resides. Work should never enter our hearts the way God and our loved ones do, for it will always push God, family, and our loved ones out! Guard your heart more than anything else! Not your reputation, ego, pride, or being right—but your HEART!

Our misplaced priorities will always attack what truly matters to our hearts and, if ignored, may eventually cause you to attack your heart, like I did.

So, my new motto for life:

“Family, family… … FAMILY COMES FIRST!”

In this, we find all the treasures of life, and it’s those relationships and memories that are worth living and fighting for.

After all, everything else, “at the end of the day, is just cornflakes!”

Are You Bitter or Better? — By Thomas J. Koester

“Be careful that no one fails to get God’s grace. Be careful that no one loses their faith and becomes like a bitter weed growing among you. Someone like that can ruin your whole group.” —Hebrews 12:15 (ERV)

A simple yet profound question from a friend has stayed with me:

“Tom, are you bitter or better?”

Life’s trials will come, but our choice determines our sense of peace. Bitterness isolates; betterness unites. By embracing God’s redemptive grace and forgiving others, we unlock a life of freedom, love, and meaningful relationships.

We are all confronted with hurt and pain from others. The choice to become bitter or better is available to all of us. The choice always comes down to two letters, the letter i or the e, b(i)tter or b(e)tter.

Bitterness is a collection of wrongs done by others, causing emotional constipation, psychological disfigurement, and spiritual disconnection from God and others.

The Holy Spirit wants to move us away from bitterness and leads us towards betterment. That is what God’s grace means here—the empowerment to avoid bitterness.

Matter of fact, the verse from Hebrews warns us to be careful that no one fails to receive God’s grace and that no one loses their faith. In other words, we need to watch each others back, rather than plunging knives into them.

Bitterness is the absence of God’s grace, as it displaces his presence, his wisdom, and conviction of the Holy Spirit. A bitter person is always looking to recruit people into their cesspool of bitter complaints. If you join them you’ll get drawn into their emotional quicksand with no one to rescue you!

We become bitter only when we reject God’s grace whispered to us by the Holy Spirit, and when we follow and listen to bitter people. Bitterness is a contagion; it is contracted through casual gossip and always corrupts the mind before it rots the soul. Bitterness has destroyed marriages, families, businesses, and especially churches.

Stay with God’s Word and his distinct and clear voice. Obey the Holy Spirit and become better. If not, you’ll destroy your faith, and walk away from God and the people who truly love you!

Even if you are bitter, you can become better. According to Hebrews 12:15, the antidote against bitterness is ensuring that not one person is missing out from God’s grace. Doing that leaves little time and opportunity for bitterness to take root.

When you stab yourself and others with bitterness, you also forfeit God’s grace that could be yours.

People will love a better you, but bitterness will drive even your closest friends away. Bitterness is a pill, whereby its side effect causes loneliness and detachment. Not only between those who love you, but even within yourself. Your bitterness makes you dangerous—a danger to yourself and others.

Bitterness grows within your heart and soul, like a destructive and evasive tree root. It enters into areas it doesn’t belong, causing emotional disfigurment, and psychological damage. But its damage is reversible. There is hope and healing!

Do you want to live a better life?

Then forgive the offense of others, and you’ll live a bitter free life.

I know—I know, you’ve been terribly hurt or offended. But your bitterness puts you in competition with God. You’re actually saying, “I know better than God,” and therefore you feel justified to condemn. That’s pretty tragic, don’t you think?

But the longer you hold onto bitterness, the more impossible it is for you to forgive. The longer you wait to forgive those who’ve hurt you the further away God’s grace becomes.

I don’t want you to miss out on God’s grace, I want you free and full of life, just like you used to be. I want you to find your faith again in God and to enjoy his presence in your soul.

I want you to love and to be loved again. I want you to stop the cruelty to your heart and soul!

Don’t you see?

Bitterness is not the cure—it’s a poison! The real cure may seem impossible, but it’s the only cure that will set you free and put you on the road to recovery.

The only cure to bitterness is forgiveness. Forgiveness is even more powerful if you were to lead in it. I promise that if you do, you’ll be right as rain and feeling better and not bitter.

Don’t Let The Bed Bugs Bite! – By Thomas J. Koester

It’s those forgotten little memories that can change everything!

Early in 1998, my brother called and told me that my dad was dying of cancer and that dad was asking for me.

When I heard this, I was very upset. Not that my father was dying, mind you, but that he’d asked for me. I needed him all my life, and now, he’s asking for me?

“Tell Dad I’m not coming!” I replied.

I have four brothers and a sister, and they all called me, urging me to visit Dad. A week or so went by, and I finally caved into the pressure.

I first visited my dad in the Contra Costa County Hospital, as the VA in Martinez, California, was short on beds. There, he lay in a bed surrounded by adjustable rails. My younger brother, John, and my mother were present.

My mom pulled me aside to tell me the seriousness of Dad’s esophageal cancer. She said, “It doesn’t look good, I’ve researched the prognosis, and he doesn’t have much time left.” By the time I had visited my father, he’d already been battered by chemotherapy and every other treatment.

The cancer had permanently closed up his esophagus, and he could no longer swallow but was fed through a feeding tube, which was surgically inserted through the side of his abdomen and directly into his stomach. My father was so frightened; I had never seen him so fragile and helpless.

Since things did not look good for my dad, I called one of my pastors from our church in Danville, California, called East Bay Fellowship, which I was attending with my wife and kids. I asked if Pastor Allan Shrewsbury could come by and pray over my father in the hope that it would give him some comfort.

Pastor Allan quickly arrived, praying with my dad and confirming my father’s faith and trust in Jesus Christ as his Savior.

It was getting late, and we began to ready ourselves to leave when I noticed tears filling my father’s eyes, along with the room filling with a sense of heaviness. It seemed as though this might be our last goodbye. I think the feeling of; “he may not make it through the night” hit all of us at the same time.

Compassion began to rise within my heart. I leaned over his bedrail and gently kissed my father’s unshaven face. His prickly whiskers caused my lips to tingle. My brother John leaned in and kissed our dad, as did my mom, and then we all tried to convince and reassure him that he would be fine as we slowly left the room.

As John and I walked out together towards the parking lot, my lips still tingling, I said:

“John, there is something strangely familiar about kissing dad.”
I continued:

“My lips—they’re still tingling!”

John responded:

“What’s up with you, Tom? Don’t you remember when we were little kids, we’d line up in front of dad’s favorite chair and kiss him goodnight on his cheek, and he’d say with a smile,

’… Don’t let the bedbugs bite!’”

All of a sudden, good memories came flooding into my mind. That gentle kiss on my father’s unshaven face was a key to my dungeon of despair and loneliness. All my years of anger, bitterness, and hatred; all my doubts and unforgiveness, all swallowed up from the tingly whiskers of my father’s unshaven face!

After that moment, I couldn’t wait to see my father. I saw him over the next several months as often as I could.

Several weeks before my dad passed away, a nurse came into his hospital room, asking:

“Who is your executor and healthcare director?”

My father lifted his feeble arm and pointed in my direction. I turned to see if one of my two older brothers was behind me, but there was no one.

For some, this would have been an unwelcome appointment, a burden, but for me, it meant I had my father’s complete and utter trust and respect. The significance of my dad’s appointment was a paradigm shift for me, possibly one of my most life-affirming events.

Later, I learned that my father had consulted with my mother about whom he should appoint as Trustee of his estate and healthcare. My mother agreed with my dad on his final choice. My sister, Laurie, was also named co-trustee. Simply amazing!

A few weeks later, my dad’s condition was worsening. His organs were beginning to show signs of shutting down. At this point, my siblings and I would trade off, spending the night with Dad alone.

Finally, it was my turn. It was October 7, 1998. I arrived shortly after the dinner hour. A nurse brought in a cot with a blanket and a pillow for me to sleep on. My dad and I talked for quite a while, mostly about politics, which was my dad’s favorite topic. Soon, it was lights out, which never happens in a hospital.

As I lay there, realizing the significance of this moment with my dad, I knew if I didn’t say what was indeed on my heart now, that this moment would be lost forever. You see, my father had never told me that he loved me. I was thirty-nine years old, and my dad was about to turn sixty-nine the next day. I wanted so much to hear those words from him; no, I needed to hear those words from him—something in me was guiding me and granting me the courage to say what I needed to say:

“Dad?”

“Yes, son?” he replied

Dad … I love you!” I said cautiously.

Only mere seconds passed by, but it felt like years.

“… I love you too, son,” Dad replied.

I exchanged “I love you” with my dad for what seemed like all night long! I said those precious and life-giving words, which he echoed back:

“I love you too, son.”

All my hate and anger against my dad had washed away, and now for good! I heard the three most important words every son or daughter needs to hear:

“I love you, son!”

“Look, I am sending you the prophet Elijah before the great and dreadful day of the LORD arrives. His preaching will turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to their fathers. Otherwise, I will come and strike the land with a curse.” — Malachi 4: 5-6

The days of the “curse” were finally over for me. For a greater spirit than Elijah had entered that hospital room that night. The Spirit of the Living God had softened the hearts of father and son, and the mess I had made of my life suddenly became beautiful!

“His wrath, you see, is
fleeting, but His grace
lasts a lifetime. The
deepest pains may linger
through the night, but joy
greets the soul with the
smile of morning.” — Psalms 30:5

My dad, while broken with cancer, poured into me so much life and hope, and, in such a short time! The man whom I had despised all of my life was my dad, with whom I just fell in love but who is now leaving.

The morning came, with it, a smile and a “Happy Birthday, Dad!”

It was October 8, 1998, and my father wanted to get cleaned up for his Birthday. He said:

“Tom, get my shaving bag, it’s over there, in that cabinet.”

“Here it is, Dad,” I replied.

“Okay, get my Electric Shave lotion and my razor out,” my dad directed, and then he asked:

“Son, will you shave my face?”

This may sound silly, but this was the most intimate moment I’ve ever had with my father. The whiskers that tingled my lips and softened the hardness of my heart, the mouth that finally spoke: “I love you too, son,” was the face I was about to care for and shave.

“The deepest pains may linger through the night, but joy greets the soul with the smile of morning.”

… and I shaved my father’s face.

That is why I would not change a single moment of my life. The pain is swallowed up in the sweetness of heartfelt forgiveness and the “I love yous.” For what had become broken has now been given, and the mess of my life has now become beautiful!

Four days later, on October 12, 1998, my father passed away. At his right-hand side, I stood a restored and beloved son, loved and approved. As life was quickly draining from my dad, he looked up towards the ceiling, letting out his final breath; he smiled, his heartbeat stopped, and we wept loudly in the grief of our great loss! I then reached over his body and closed my father’s eyes.

He died my hero triumphantly and bravely; he faced death and passed from this life into the heart of God.

“Death swallowed by triumphant
Life! Who got the last word? Oh, Death, who’s afraid of
you now?” – I Corinthians 15:55

While this was both a painful and magical time for me, these events with my father were a new beginning and a paradigm shift for my present and future.

I can honestly say that God used the final moments of my father’s life to make me into a better man, a restored son, and a better father.

Letting my anger for my father go allowed love to come bursting in. Becoming my father’s beloved son made it possible for me to believe I could be God’s beloved son, too.

Good night. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite. I’ll see you in heaven. I love you, dad!

Healing For The Splintered Mind –By Thomas J. Koester

We can’t live a happy life with an unforgiving soul and a stubborn heart.

When we refuse to forgive ourselves and others, we split our identity. One part loaths the offender, and the part hates self. It is the inner voice of self hatred and toxic unforgivness, which curses the outer self of life and the inner self of peace.

I know you know what I’m saying. I’m not trying to gulit you, but to help you!

I don’t want you to end up with two personalities in one body. That’s a horrible way to live!

One world is real, full of life, hope, and dreams. The other is false — filled with lies, masks, and illusions. Sure, you can survive in your false world, but you were made for so much more than surviving…

… and I think you know that!

You’ve felt it your entire life, that there’s something wrong. You don’t know what it is—you feel trapped inside—imprisoned by offense. Maybe you feel like a hostage, only it’s you that holds the key to your own prison cell.

In the movie The Matrix, Neo asks Morpheus a question:

“If you’re killed in the matrix, you die here?”

Morpheus:

“The body can not live without the mind.”

The book of James puts it this way:

“The splinter of a divided mind shatters your compass and leaves you dizzy and confused.” —James 1:8

Do not yield to thoughts of condemnation for others and hatred of self, for the end of such thoughts are self-destruction and death. You need to yield to, and desire wisdom from God, who understands both the body and the mind. But if you reject his wisdom and truth, your inner thoughts, no matter how untrue and false, will become reality. For either the wisdom from God and the belief of self-hatred are both initiated by faith. You see, faith activates the power of both truth and lies.

If you believe in the truth and wisdom from God, you will live and thrive. Conversely, if you believe in self-hatred and unforgivness, you will become lifeless and die. For the body obeys the mind, and a double minded person is unstable, confused, and lost.

I don’t want you lost—I want you found and freed!

The standard of God’s Word, Wisdom, and Truth never changes, so anchor all your thoughts, fears, and doubts on him, and you will find your way again.

This very moment, you are standing at the crossroads—as Jeremiah puts it:

Yet the Lord pleads with you still: Ask where the good road is, the godly paths you used to walk in, in the days of long ago. Travel there, and you will find rest for your souls. But you reply, “No, that is not the road I want!” —Jeremiah 6:16 (TLB)

Don’t yell an angry, “NO!” Cry a humble “yes,” and find rest again.

If you will not turn to God, The Holy One of Truth and Wisdom, not even your loved ones can help you. Until you’re willing to expose your false self and cease your fake salvation, you can’t be helped. Until you ask to be rescued, you’ll continue to drift further and further away.

Unrelenting unforgivness hurts no one but yourself. The one who offended you is unharmed by your hoarding of anger and offense. They’re free, but you’re not!

I plead with you, turn to God and be honest. Be brave. Be loving to yourself again and live! You may not realize it, but you’ve had the keys to your own prison all along.

“… You will weep no more. He will be gracious if you ask him for help. He will surely respond to the sound of your cries.” —Isaiah 30:19

Jesus Christ died that you may live and was raised to life that you may never die.

For there is no peace and no rest in wasting your life being unforgiving. There is life and peace in Jesus Christ.

Here, please read Psalms 23 — it’s a beautiful passageway to life!

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” —Psalm 23

Trust Him—He will give you rest for all your weariness and heal your splintered mind!

Maybe you’ll be restored enough to even feast in the presence of those who once hurt and offended you.

I’m here, if you need me.