“The way we talk to our children becomes their inner voice.” –Peggy O’Mara
A father’s likes, for example, sports, politics, music, or cars, etc., becomes the language in which a father speaks to his children and which they speak to themselves.
The fact that many fathers do not listen with their hearts is why so many sons and daughters remain disconnected from their dads. His children may not like sports, politics, or music, etc., and therefore have nothing to say. I meet so many people obsessed with sports, politics, drugs, drinking, etc., because this is the only way that they can relate to or speak with their fathers.
Many people have no idea as to why they like or do these things, and rarely make the connection that they do these things because this was their father’s language – this is how they’ve learned to gain their father’s approval, acceptance, and his attention.
My father’s language was politics and technology. I found myself learning all I could about current political events and the latest technological gadget, so I would have something to say to my dad. I wanted my father’s approval — his acceptance and respect, so I learned his language. The sad part is that my relationship with my father was always in the shallows and never at the level and depth of heart and soul. Sadly, this became my language also between my own sons and daughter.
One day, I inspected a water-damaged home in Antioch, California, with the homeowner and his family present. All the decorations in the kitchen, family room, and master bedroom were covered with San Francisco 49er’s paraphernalia – I mean, it was everywhere! After I was completed with my task, the husband asked me:
“So, do you watch sports? … what do you think of those 49ers?”
I replied:
I don’t watch or like sports all that much.
His facial expression intimated shock and amazement!
I further replied:
… You like sports because this was the only way you could speak with your father and gain his attention and approval.
I glanced at his wife, and her face suddenly lit up with shock!
She quickly replied:
“MY GOSH, THAT’S SO TRUE!”
The husband just stood there, with his mouth opened, with the expression as though his best friend had just died!
You begin to learn how powerful for good, or evil, our father’s likes, especially when they become the mechanism of speech or language with their children. Right? Just as Peggy O’Mara wrote,
“The way we talk to our children becomes their inner voice.”
The Bible points this out in the last book of the Old Testament, and in the very last two verses:
“Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord. And he shall turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse.” –Malachi 4: 5-6.
Do you see?
If the fathers do not turn their hearts to their children, the earth will be cursed. What curses the world is silent fathers and fathers that do not speak from their hearts. This, in turn, causes children not to speak from their hearts also. Instead, their relationship with their dads is in the shallows. Very little, to no life pass from the father to their children. Sadly, this lack of transaction creates an emotional and relational deficit from generation to generation.
Proverbs 4: 23 puts it this way:
“Watch over your heart with all diligence, For from it flow the springs of life.”
If you’re a father, change the language from sports, politics, or anything that keeps your relationship with your kids in shallow places and listen and speak from your heart. From your heart flows the springs of life. Your kids can’t live successful, healthy, and full lives without the spring of life from your heart. Your words and language matter. It’s a matter of life and death!
We dads have the power of life and death in our speech with our kids, young or old. Our words have the power to build or destroy the future of our children. It is never too late to speak from our hearts.
Help build your children’s future and speak the language of love.
“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!
Nothing can be more meaningful or powerful as the Father Heart of GOD.
The reason you feel like a victim is because you do not feel like a son or daughter. Having an “orphan mentality” makes you vulnerable and an easy target of doom and gloom.
The longer you see yourself as an orphan, you become a prime target by the Father of Lies and his abusive cohorts. Trust me, the Father of Lies, well he’s nothing but a deadbeat dad. Nothing good can come from him. He can’t offer you a future, but only a darkened past.
The Enemy’s plan? Cause you pain to rob you of your future. God’s plan? Give you a future through your pain and rob the Enemy.
Stop interpreting your hardship as a series of mishaps. If you begin to embrace all hardship as an established fact of your son-ship, suddenly you’ll gain strength you’ve never thought possible. Our God is no dead-beat dad; those whom he loves, he inflicts hardship, and his hardship for your life comes from a good place—his heart.
“My child, don’t reject the Lord’s discipline, and don’t be upset when he corrects you. For the Lord corrects those he loves, just as a father corrects a child in whom he delights. Joyful is the person who finds wisdom, the one who gains understanding.” –Proverbs 3:11-13
“Endure [all] suffering as discipline: God is dealing with you as sons. For what son is there that a father does not discipline?” [Emphasis mine] –Hebrews 12:7
“God corrects all his children, and if he doesn’t correct you, then you don’t really belong to him.” –Hebrews 12:8
GOD is fathering you into the best son, or daughter you can be, because that’s what a good father does.
Nothing can be more meaningful or powerful as the Father Heart of GOD.
Maybe you’re simply misunderstanding your difficulties. If you can accept difficulties as a test from God rather than bad luck, you’ll want to pass the test instead of complaining about it.
Maybe you’re not an orphan after all, maybe God is fathering you because he’s in love with you, just like a real daddy.
So, snap out of it!
You’re not an orphan but a son or daughter of The Most High God!
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.
“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.” . 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.
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!
The hope that is in every believer is real hope for a hopeless America.
We need to find our place in His Story so that we can leave our mark in history.
The Nazi-Socialist and their sick eugenics are alive and well in America. Their aim is a “perfect society” through science and political power.
Abortion was originally, according to Margret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood, a form of “depopulating the blacks from society.” Just like the Nazis dehumanized Jews, Gays, Gypsies, and Christians, Margret Sanger, and her “Planned Parenthood” cohorts have dehumanized the unborn, especially the unborn of color. Now, since its inception, abortion has killed nearly 60 million unborn just in America alone.
You see, dictatorial and tyrannical control requires a manageable population. This is not only about the numbers of humans but also the dollars it takes to manage them. Coronavirus was, among many things, about the killing off, or shall I saw more humanely, euthanizing the elderly and the weakest among us. In addition, the killing off of businesses creates general economic ruin and caused melee in our cities and towns.
This was done to usher in a New Economic Order that will require efficiency and dependence. Don’t you realize that we validated their evil trial balloon by our compliance?
Efficiency, that is, a more manageable populace, and a more weakened people lowers the possibility of uncontrollable revolt. This is why patriotism and those patriotic institutions we all love must go. This is why “The Good Ole American Way” has been under assault. This is why football, baseball, basketball, and soccer have been ruined, and our American flag and our National Anthem desecrated. This is what’s behind the destruction of women’s sports! Everything that makes us America is slowly canceled and removed in order to take away our identity and patriotism.
All of this is not new. It’s how every great nation before us has fallen. The coronavirus was simply the mechanism the Left used to take away many of our freedoms and liberties. It was used to divide us and subjugate us to lawless mandates. The virus also preoccupied us, giving the Democratic Left cover for the grandest theft of all times, the Presidency of the United States, and to control all houses of government, both federal and local.
These things were necessary in order to usher in the New World Order and the “New Economy.” Or, as the Globalists have renamed it, “The Great Reset.”
We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, is hard to grasp, when we see so many bad actors in our government and news media outlets. So we have to remind ourselves daily that this is foremost a spiritual battle, which has brazenly manifested itself in the world of men.
There is no question as to where this is all heading. Godly men and leaders, such as pastors, reverends, and priests no longer have the luxury of the status quo of a typical Sunday service or Mass. It’s time to raise up armies of intercessors and train and equip God’s people in evangelism and spiritual warfare!
“It means buckle your seatbelt, Dorothy, ’cause [America] is going bye-bye.”
If we want America to survive, the Church must become the standard-bearer once again. It must lead America back to God, or God will allow our nation to spit us out!
But remember, we’re the Church, and our mission is to proclaim the Gospel of the Kingdom. The Kingdom Gospel puts things in the right order without the aid of political power. As a matter of fact, the Church is most powerful under persecution.
When the Roman armies occupied First Century Israel and all of Palestine, did it deter Christianity, or did it propel it?
We know the answer—persecution became the Early Church’s rocket fuel and launched the Church into world evangelism!
“… And this gospel of the kingdom shall be preached in all the world for a witness unto all nations; and then shall the end come.” – Matthew 24:14
We know what our mission is. It’s not to cower in fear or shirk our responsibility or to proclaim that the rapture cometh. It is to stand fast, hold our ground; keep the faith, and engage darkness with the might and power of God of the Angel Armies. It is to preach the Gospel of the Kingdom and unleash the power of the Gospel, that is, The Good News against the Bad News of World Socialism.
If we die, it’s gain. If we live, it’s Christ, the power of God unto salvation. Let’s show and offer the World Jesus Christ. Let’s all become Jesus with skin on and hold fast to the attitude, humility, and power of Christ.
Whether we are free or in bondage, our job is to be the Church and the Triumphant Bride of Christ.
Like you, I don’t want to disappoint Jesus when he returns. I want him to not only find faith on earth but to find a bright, beautiful, and radiant bride!
So, come what may! The Devil and his minions will do their worst. The Church, we will do our best because we have the Spirit of Christ, the love for Truth, and have love for one another, or at least we should.
We will win because God has already won the victory in Jesus Christ, our Risen Savior, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords. The ending of the story has already been written. Just make sure that your names are written in the Lambs Book of Life, and all will go well.
We need to find our place in His Story so that we can leave our mark in history.
The hope that is in every believer is real hope for a hopeless America. Amen
Standing in the gap for our nation has nothing to do with complaining, talking, podcasting, or even simple prayers. The word “Intercessor” is made up of two words:
(Inter) meaning: “between” and (ced) meaning: “go.”
To intercede literally means to go and get between God and the need. It means to actually stand in the empty void until God steps in and fills the need.
It is real labor and a deep spiritual endeavor and undertaking of intense pleading, repenting, and even arguing before God on behalf of others, who are either unwilling or unaware for the need to repent or change. Sometimes, this means going to a logistical place and filling the breach in a wall until restoration and revival begins.
Several years ago, a pastor commented about his disappointment with the decision by the Supreme Court, which redefined marriage. His concern, as I’m sure is the concerns of many pastors across the nation, was lawsuits and possible jail time for refusing to officiate certain marriages.
“Maybe I’ll just refuse to do any marriages,” the pastor sadly opined.
Standing in the gap, or becoming a true intercessor is not to abandon culture or society, or to abandon marriage rites altogether, but is to “go between,” even if it means lawsuit or jail time.
Standing in the gap is costly, and true intercession is not a quiet and passive endeavor, but stepping in and between the offenses of men, or even the offenses of a nation and the God of justice, righteousness, and holiness. It is indeed costly!
Daniel was such a man, which bravely stood in the gap of his time.
If you recall, prayer and worship, in public or in private to Jehovah, or any other god for that matter, was outlawed by King Darius. Unscrupulous men of the King’s court had encouraged the King to enact a law (sounds familiar) forbidding any prayer or worship for thirty days.
Daniel, being a continual intercessor for the return of his banished people to Israel, refused to cease his prayers to God. He faithfully prayed three times a day towards Jerusalem near his window, as he had regularly done. But these crafty men had set up surveillance, waiting for the man of God to violate the King’s edict. Having arrested Daniel, they brought him before the King.
Regrettably, as the King had been unknowingly coerced by these evil men to enact the law, the King had no other option but to pass judgment on Daniel, sentencing him to death by caged ferocious lions.
Even in this, Daniel did not waiver in his commitment to intercede or to even apologize for his violation of the new law.
Spoiler alert — When Daniel was tossed into the lion’s den, the lions acted like kittens. When King Darius saw that Daniel’s God had saved him, the King realized that he was duped by the men in his court, and so orders the immediate release of Daniel. The King, now being furious with the men of his court, orders them to be immediately tossed into the lion’s den, where they were instantly torn apart and devoured by the lions.
God saves and protects his intercessors! Did you hear that? God saves his intercessors!
WHERE ARE THE DANIELS OF OUR DAY!?!
Where are the pastors who are willing to go to jail because they stood in the gap against the gods of our culture?
Where are the everyday men and women who’ll stand in the gap for the dismembered unborn!?!
Where are the men and women who will stand in the gap for the fatherless, homeless, or alien, illegal or not in need of salvation?
Where are the evangelists and preachers proclaiming God’s redemptive word in the streets and marketplaces?
Where are the voices of 70.6% of 318 million Christians in America!?!
The darkness is so vivid that even the smallness of true faith can brighten a single city!
WHERE ARE THE FAITHFUL OF THE LAND?
Where is the authority of the believer?
Our silence and passivity have reached heaven. The cries of the unborn and the blood of their partially born dismembered bodies have reached the eyes and ears of the God of Creation. The lost and abandoned children of our cities and towns have reached the courts of God. America’s sins will not go unpunished.
If the sinners will not repent, it is time for the people of God to repent in their stead and stand in the gap, even for the unrighteous acts of our great land!
In all of this, God is still looking for men and women to stand in the gap; to risk time, treasure, and talent; and, if necessary, blood, sweat, and tears for the Good News of the Kingdom.
Diabolic means to “divide” (di) and “abolish” (abolic) – di-abolic. To divide and abolish. It is literally the opposite of the word intercessor!
Can you not see what is happening before our very eyes? Every sector of our culture and society is being divided and abolished, including history, children, family, marriage, sex/gender, education, justice; race, religion, etc.
The evil in our nation is diabolic and is a serious spiritual virus, spreading like an airborne pathogen, infecting the very soul and foundations of our nation and people.
Intercessors in our nation, cities, towns, and villages must stand in this gap and reestablish what darkness has divided and abolished. Fill in the gaps of the moral and spiritual holes in our nation’s walls.
“So I sought for a man among them who would make a wall, and stand in the gap before Me on behalf of the land, that I should not destroy it; but I found no one.” Ezekiel 22:30
Can one man make a difference? According to Ezekiel, one man or woman can!
Christ made the difference by his standing in the gap between the just wrath of God against the sins of mankind. Christ was hung on a vertical alter, pointing all people towards the God of Heaven.
Because of what Christ achieved, God exalted his Son to the highest honor and now sits on the right side of God’s throne.
You, too, are seated in heavenly places with Christ and because of Christ.
Do you know how much authority you have in Christ at this very moment?
Be that man or woman, young or old, and stand in the gap on behalf of the lost and our land.
Silence the diabolic and divider with the heart of an intercessor and stand in the gap! AMEN
Scars, are for some people, important symbols of heroism, bravery, and sacrificial achievements. But for many, scars are unfortunate circumstances of abuse, violence, rape, and simply being in the wrong place at a wrong moment.
The truth is, scars, whether bourn on or inside our bodies can, become a force for good. We all know and have experienced healing from pain, pain of broken bones, cuts, wounds, and emotional hurt. Thank God that he designed our bodies to heal itself. But not completely, right? Many wounds leave scar tissue. Even emotional wounds, wounds of the heart and mind can leave scarring.
Our scars all have stories behind them. For example, during the years of my youth, I played outside every summer break, doing dangerous stuff that kids do. Falling from trees, crashing bicycles, jumping ramps, doing all sorts of daredevil stuff, had scarred me up from head to toe! But I wouldn’t want to grow up any other way! Many of those childhood scars are still visible and still to this day tell many stories and fond, but painful memories.
Your scars, physical or emotional, also has stories. Some stories, I’m sure you don’t want to remember. But nonetheless, they happened, good or bad. But here’s something to give a little thought to; beneath your scars may be a hidden glory. How can that be? You may ask. Yes, I know you may not be a former all-pro football player; you don’t have to be a sports star or hero for your scars to add glory to your life.
Scars may be indicative of a well lived life or an indication of being human and vulnerable. A mother, for instance, bears the scars of childbirth, and each stretch mark represents the growth of new life within her, which she selflessly endured for her child. Her children, born to her, arrived during painful, agonizing labor, and, are a significant glory to her life. I don’t understand it as a man, but as soon as that baby is born, a mother’s face lights up with joy. Her joy miraculously replaces the pain and labor of birthing.
I’m thinking of a Bible verse, located somewhere, I think, in the book of Hebrews. Okay, I found it…
Hebrews 12:2 tells very clearly:
“… He who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.”
This verse says Jesus focused on “the joy” that was set before Him as He endured the agony of crucifixion. He knew of the glory that was to be set upon him for his sacrifice. And he was crucified publicly. Wow!
I’ve spent too much time and energy trying to hide my scars, especially my emotional scars – scars of inner pain deep within the womb of the heart; scars of hurt, betrayal, and abuse. I’ve learned that healing isn’t the removal of such scars but accepting them and humbly wearing them like chevrons or stripes on my shoulders, indicating my rank and experience with pain.
My scars, hidden or not, are my carte blanche, approved by God. When God permits, my scars allow me to act as someone else’s wounded healer. Don’t be ashamed of your scars. Scaring means that you’ve survived, and maybe your survival and scars have a divine purpose for others. In other words, perhaps God masterfully ordained your hurt and pain so that your body, mind, and heart may produce abundant life and healing beyond yourself.
One day, as we pass from this life, we will see the scars planted on Jesus because of our sins. We will know then the significance of his scars as never before. We will have perfect clarity that our ultimate healing has come from those scars, and all our present pain and tears will be wiped away forever.
“But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes, we are healed.” – Isaiah 53:5
Have you heard the song, Scars?
Lyrics By: I Am They from the album: Trial & Triumph
“We came up to a new sunrise Looking back from the other side I can see now with open eyes Darkest water and deepest pain I wouldn’t trade it for anything Because my brokenness brought me to You
And these wounds are stories You’ll use
So I’m thankful for the scars Because without them, I wouldn’t know Your heart, And I know they always tell of who You are
So forever, I am thankful for the scars
Now I’m standing in confidence With the strength of Your faithfulness
And I’m not who I was before Now I don’t have to fear anymore
So I’m thankful for the scars Cause without them, I wouldn’t know Your heart, And I know they always tell of who You are
So forever, I am thankful for the scars
I can see, I can see How You delivered me In Your hands, in Your feet I found my victory I can see, I can see How You delivered me In Your hands, in Your feet I found my victory
I’m thankful for Your scars Cause without them, I wouldn’t know Your heart, And with my life, I’ll tell of who You are
So forever, I am thankful
I’m thankful for the scars Cause without them; I wouldn’t know Your heart, And I know they’ll always tell of who You are
So forever, I am thankful for the scars
So forever, I am thankful for the scars.”
Are you scarred body, mind, and heart? If so, you are in good company.
Learn to be thankful for each scar, and suddenly, without notice, what was meant for your harm, will instead produce a harvest of life and healing for others.
“Give me four years to teach the children, and the seed I have sown will never be uprooted.” – Vladimir Lenin
Our Nation’s future is only secured in how well we parent and educate our children.
The sixteen points I’m about to layout are not opinions or political theories long forgotten. They are based on observations, news broadcasts, lawsuits, and current events. While many were first published in manifestos, books, etc., long ago, they have become daily mainstream news and the topic of many podcasts and publications.
Now, sadly, it’s our turn to witness the collapsing of a once great nation. You and I, regrettably, have a front-row seat.
Every fallen nation before us has encountered these destructive trends:
State and federal controll of education. To educate or re-educate the children away from national and religious morals, tuths, and foundations; to inhibit the royalty of self-governance, personal responsibility, and patriotism; to destroy parental authority and autonomy.
Democratization of the Republic. To replace our representive structure of government, “for the people and by the people,” to a mobocracy, whereby government is ran by mass-appeal and populism; to progressively usher in a Socialistic State; to pave the way for dictatorial, communistic governance.
Seizure and polarization of the Free Press. To control all communications for the purposes of the state and federal governments; to either control or be controlled by partisan means.
The loss of journalistic integrity. To control and create narratives; the abeyance of fact; to avoid exculpatory evidence, fact, and truth that may enforce or promote the counter party’s ideals and positions; to simply distort and twist narratives for party gain.
Cancelation of patriotism and everything that promotes healthy nationalism. To pervert anything that promotes unity, the American way of life and liberty; to distort national pride, ingenuity, achievement, and excellence.
The refusal to teach American, Constitutional, and World history. To create ignorance; to lessen or eliminate the impact and importance of the past; to control future outcomes by eliminating historical fact and evidence.
Destruction of relational norms, i.e. family, sexuality, maternity, and paternity. To attack and destroy the very fabric of society. To corrupt mother and father archetypes, whereby either sex can occupy the opposite roles; to distort and redirect offspring from normative and healthy relationships; to destroy future generations.
Sexual deviation and exploitation. Normalization of pornography, pedophilia, and gender dysphoria. To corrupt and destroy all morality, sexual boundaries; to inhibit and reduce reproduction; to control population; to distort mankind as God’s image bearers.
Destruction of free, fair, and open elections. “Those Who Vote Decide Nothing Those Who Count The Votes Decide Everything” – Joseph Stalin. To control the outcome of all elections, ensuring and maintaining a one-sided control.
Persecution and imprisonment of political dissenters, detractors, and rivals. To create a one-sided control of all political power, including every sector of state and federal government; to put fear in the minds of political and ideological detractors and dissenters; to dissuade political rivals.
The creation of a State and Federal controlled surveillance system. To monitor and track dissenters for future arrest, persecution, and imprisonment; to set up a social scoring system by use of personal algorithms on social media platforms.
State and Federal control of all forms of transportation. To control and limit freedom of movement; to corral people into manageable classes, sectors, regions, or groups.
The creation of a programmable digital currency. To control personal and corporate financial freedom; buying, selling, profiting, and distributing. A form of financial rewards and punishment.
The rise of a cancel culture of anything that defies progressivism and primitivism. To crush, marginalize, and destroy common decency and common sense; to promote un-American ideals, trends, and philosophies; to essentially and fundamentally change America into a fascistic society.
The perversion of the judicial system and law and order. To create chaos and confusion; to allow for injustice, political favoritism, cronyism; to pave the way for political and corporate evil and lawbreakers.
The exploitation and manipulation of racial differences, i.e. race wars. To cause disunity and societal fragmentation; to exploit for political needs; to create mass distraction, hysteria, riots, etc., for political means; to gain thought and mind control, useful to maintain political power and control over minority groups.
The destruction of our Second Amendment Right Keep and Bear Arms. “A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.” To keep the citizens from having the power and the means of protection against a tyrannical government; to thwart any domestic power from dictatorial control or governance: to throw off the restraints and infringements of a rouge and renegade government; to provide for personal defense and safety.
I could literally go on and on. But I think by now you can clearly see that America is so far down the river that I’m afraid the current has become too strong to paddle against.
“If the foundations [of a godly society] are destroyed, What can the righteous do?” – Psalm 11:3
God’s children should never be the people with their heads in the sand. But, sadly, our American history shows that we are!
If you carefully consider the sixteen articles I’ve written above, you can see what has happened during our absence as godly vanguards of culture, classroom, church, and Constitution. We failed, but not as politicians and patriots, but as Christians commissioned to teach, preach, and baptize the nations, beginning with our own. The antidote to all the corruption, darkness, and evil is the true Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Do you realize that it took evil intentioned men and women only eighty years, that’s two generations, to flip Western civilization, culture, and society upside-down?
“Give me four years to teach the children, and the seed I have sown will never be uprooted.” – Vladimir Lenin – Founder of The Russian Communist State.
Where do you think the evil Vladimir Lenin got this principle from?
“Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” – Proverbs 22:6
Yes, that’s right, from the Bible! Don’t forget, evil men read the Bible too!
You see, to the fact that our children have been co-opted and re-educated by the State is our fault. We willingly gave them our children, and sadly, most still do.
People! The government has had our children since the 1830s, when the government officially inacted compulsory public education. In my estimation, that day was the beginning of the end of America. If there were an autopsy on the death of America, the report would read cause of death: abdication of child education and parental authority to the state.
Many religious people have long since given up their parental, religious, and patriotic duty for a pre-tribulation rapture theory. This theory has taken care, custody, and control from their vocabularies. The darker it becomes, the more it ensures an eminent exfiltration. Pre-tribulation, Dispensational rapture theory is another gospel, and its pontificators and false teachers should be avoided.
This destructive theory has played into the hands of evil-minded, secular cultists, secret societies, evil politicians, and educators. Coincidentally, pre-tribulation and dispensational premillennialism came on the historical scene within the same mid 19th century as compulsory education theory, John Dewey, Evolutionism, Charles Darwin, Communism, Karl Marx, and Religious Humanism, John H. Dietrich. I do not believe that all these new theories and philosophies were mere happenstance, but may be demonic implantations.
“Nevertheless, even if we ourselves or an angel from heaven preach any gospel to you other than that which we have preached to you, hold him as accursed.” As we said before, so say I now again: If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that which ye have received, let him be accursed! – Galatians 1:8-9
A perverted gospel curses culture, children, church, and country.
Parents, rescue your children! Get them out of public schools! Maybe, if you do, you can save your family’s future, and America’s too.
Call To Courage 