WARNING: This post may contain graphic or disturbing content… If you struggle with cutting, or are sensitive to the graphic description of cutting, do not read this post. The intent is to create awareness in the body of Christ, of a struggle that is relatively common, and tragically hidden, because of fear of judgement. Healing comes when silence is broken.
As the worship music played, I prayed silently. I thought about the place the blades had in her heart, in her life. They way she relied on them to feel anything at all. If only God could awaken her heart, and restore her soul. Then she would be able to feel without needing to inflict pain on her body, physically.
What inspired me to say it, I don’t remember, but it was significant. “You know,” I said, “it’s a funny thing how many times a song will start playing that totally fits to what’s going on in my car, or what I’m talking about with people.”
“Abigail,” I said, “would you be willing to ask Jesus to take the place of those blades? Will you surrender to Him”
No more had a spoken it, than the lyrics in Believer, by Kutless filled my car, “…When will you surrender to His grace….”
We both laughed. “See, what did I tell you?” I said. “It just happened again!”
The lyrics continues, “… He promises He’ll never leave you, to bring you freedom from the past, Cause that’s the sacrifice He’s made, He can be your shelter and your strength…”
“Will you ask Jesus to take the place of the blades?” I asked again.
She contemplated awhile.
“I want to, but I don’t know how,” she said.
“Just pray and ask Him,” I said.
“I don’t know how to pray,” she said.
“I’ll lead you in prayer,” I offered.
“If I do,” she finally said, “will it just be that much harder tomorrow? Will the battle be worse?”
“Is that what the enemy is telling you?” I asked, “that’s it’s just going to get worse?”
“I can’t tell you that it won’t, Abigail,” I said, looking her in the eye, “I can’t promise that it won’t get worse. It might. But what I can tell you, is that Jesus will be enough. If the battle is harder, He will be with you, and He will be enough. That I can promise you.”
It is in those moments that I would wish to declare all kinds of promises, that the battle will end, or lesson, and that life will somehow get easier, but I can’t promise those things. Life is a battle, and sometimes it seems that the more trauma we experience, the harder our battle. How I wished at that moment that I could take her battle for her.
“Abigail, would it be okay if I did something I don’t usually do alone?” I asked.
Earlier, in the coffee shop when I asked her if it was her or the enemy smirking at me, I had told her that I wouldn’t take authority over the demonic, even if I could. This surprised her, as it seemed I was content to leave her suffering and oppressed.
“There’s a reason Jesus sent disciples out two by two, to cover each other spiritually,” I had explained. I went on to tell her that the heart must also be ready, or it simply creates more room for the enemy to come in, bringing yet more darkness into her life. I told her I would rather teach her who she is in Christ, and how much more power she has than the darkness, so that it cannot oppress her that way. I would rather equip her, than to ‘clean house’ and leave her vulnerable the next time, not equipped to fight off the enemy.
Only moments after that statement, just as we started exploring the book of Galatians, and God’s message of freedom, she had retrieved the blades….
Abigail sat quietly, most of the time, holding the blade in her hand, and toying with it. She ran it across her skin, the sharpness teasing flesh, daring her–even inviting her–to go deep.
I saw it, but gave the enemy no power. It wasn’t what I was here to talk about. The timing of when she had seen the blades and snatched them just as we went to the Bible, was significant–clearly a battle between good and evil. It was obvious that the enemy wanted to distract me from the message Abigail needed, of hope in Jesus, and get me talking about blades, and begging her.
I felt it, and made a conscious decision to not go there. This night was about freedom, truth, and Jesus. It was about Abigail’s freedom, not the enemy’s taunting. I wouldn’t entertain him by acknowledging his tactics…
…To be Continued…
© Trudy Metzger
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