Which, you have to admit, is a pretty nutty title for a
piece of writing that I've just put in an online blog. I mean, what will the
neighbours think?
Hmm. Healings,
eh?
And Christian ones too.
I don't know if there's any standard response
by a reader to those 2 words appearing together.
It may be a
"yeahright...another bit of happyclappy hysteria based on stage-managed
nonsense", "well, I'd like to believe in it, but it all looks a bit
dodgy to me", "well, I'm supposed to believe in it but deepdown I'm
sad and angry because the evidence of hurt and death in my life says
otherwise".
It may even generate rage, if considered as
just another piece of medieval patriarchal nonsense typifying a dead religion
that is itself a stumbling-block to enlightened 21st century reason.
It all depends on
the reader really, as to whether anything that gets written, actually gets read...let
alone believed.
If I said I'd written the following account
for a "Christian audience", I'd be telling the truth but not the
whole truth.
If I said I'd
written it to in some way "evangelise" a non-Christian reader, I'd be
totally lying.
If you were to ask
me why I've written it, my answer would be and is, because it
happened. And it's just that a happening as extraordinary as this, happened
to me, that my natural response was to tell in writing, as clearly, fully and
as truthfully as I could.
It is my account
of a single event that happened one evening a few months ago. I was in a
church, surrounded by people: not a vast and joyfully-sighing and mob-hysterical
multitude, maybe 40, 50 tops. It was not a stonebuilt parish church; it was not
a modern, slick corporate church with lots of glossy pictures of abnormally
clean and well-adjusted people with white and smiley teeth; it was a smallish
prefabbed building on an industrial estate that was being used as a church.
I was
"saved" in the early 90s: this admission identifies me to the reader
as a "Christian"; it meant for me that after having had a life of
both disbelieving in, and snarling at, the God of the Christians, a Jesus I'd
never believed in met me and changed me at the source of myself.
And here, I'm
fully aware that the reader thinks they either know where I'm at, or (s)he
doesn't. Either way, because of the nature of who we are, the reader now has
certain expectations of not only the content of the following narrative, but of
the truth or otherwise within it.
I can say at this
point, I have no intent of wishing to be part of that process for
you...not because I don't care, but
because I care enough to allow you total freedom in how you engage(or choose
not to) in what you now read!
It's a
"Christian healing" then, inasmuch as it is(if you believe me...or is
it that you believe I merely believe this?) an account of a person(me)
who has already met the Christ of the gospel, yet still appears to need
"healing".
The objective
reader may decide this account is only for a "Christian" audience.
And yet I can let you into the fact that,
actually, I know as many Christians who have been unfazed, even
dismissive, of my account, even though they know it is verifiable by the people
we both know who witnessed it...as I know those whom have been deeply touched
and encouraged by it.
It may interest
the "Christian" reader, then, that of the non-Christians who
have heard this account, there are many who have testified a stirring of their
heart far in excess of some church leaderships to whose attention I have
brought this.
My following account
begins with me sitting in the church I've just described, listening to a
teaching which followed some musical worship, of which I was not too aware at
the time as I was "distracted with many cares" as the saying
goes...and I pick up the story from then:................
........................................................
I have no
recollection of the content of the sermon/teaching on that evening, save that I
remember feeling immediately and
totally transfixed by the mention of Jesus and His Bride, the
Body, the Church. I have since remembered that I sat bolt upright throughout
the teacher’s words. My friends who had invited and driven me to the evening,
have since confirmed that I was, as they put it, quite literally on the edge of
my seat. However, upon mention of Jesus restoring His Bride, I was absolutely
arrested.
(As background
here, I had had a dream back in 2005, which was by far the most powerful dream
I have ever had. In that dream, I felt Jesus wished me to look through His eyes
and feel the things He felt, as He led a skeletal, suffering, blinded and
disfigured woman through a city, at the end of which He turned to her and saw
the woman was now a bride dressed in piercing white. Whilst I was in the dream I felt emotions I could not
identify with in real life, as my consciousness seemed to know His, as
well as being aware within the dream I was still me also. I wrote the dream
down immediately, and I could remember
it in the clearest detail. God has since worked with/prodded me to refine its
“heart”, its “meanings”...which has been difficult only inasmuch as the reality
within the dream has always been above and beyond words.
This dream, or
rather its heart, has “gathered pace” increasingly ever since, and I
have just known it to be a reflection of Jesus’ heart and undying love
for His Bride. This urgency and growth within me to do something with
this dream, has actually increased more greatly the last few years, but with no
discomfort or illness of ease within myself, yet the words urgent and now summarise some of the sense I have in Him
about it.
I wrote down
the dream minutes after I had it in March 2005; though God has since shown me
His meanings in it, its content has remained clear and unchanged since.
Since the time of
the events in the following account, I believe He has told me that now is the
time I must "get it out there". If you would like a copy of this, I
can gladly send it.)
If I
remember anything physically other than the actual sermon of that evening until
that point, it was me asking my companions, “what’s the form?”of going to
the front for prayer.
In the
previous weeks I’d said to God, “OK, I’m going to go; You’ll either do
something or You won’t”. I was not remotely interested in sensation, falling
over, cackling or whatever other flaky stuff might happen through group
hysteria. I had also had occasion to really try to humble myself to Him the
previous weeks...in short form here: “things”, me, life, pain, depression,
fear, had seemed to worsen and get completely out of control. In the days
before the evening, despite no “triggers” by my actions or others...just
everything had become so dark, unpleasant, with all manner of things just going
wrong.
By the time
of the meeting(...and it was indeed a sheer miracle that I got a lift that
evening: my phone had packed in, I was late for my lift...my lift was late for
me..I was in no fit state to go emotionally) I felt like a dumb animal almost
dead from inner pain, unable to engage in others around me. I was beaten and
really under the lash, so it felt...and I didn’t know if it was just
stubborness, obedience or “the last throw” that I knew it had to be tonight
that I went... it was just like God saying to do as I was told.
The Healing Experience Itself
It is from
that exactly that moment after the sermon whilst standing at the
front, that I remember exactly
everything that happened next for me. (It is a little odd hearing from my
friends exactly how it looked to them... one even feared I was having a stroke,
until her husband who’s trained in first aid, said it was not the case. Let God
get on with it, was the consensus, they've since told me)
Around about the
time just before I went to the front, I had an odd "picture" in my
mind:
As I'd been riveted by the mention of Jesus restoring His
Bride, I now suddenly felt I really had to have all that God
wanted me to have...not only that, but that right now would somehow
be what the whole of my life was to be about, and that from this point
onwards I would now know exactly what my purpose, calling, ministry was
to be. I saw in this "picture", myself reaching towards God, pulling
with all my might...yet with a big padlock and chain around the rest of my body
anchoring me. I kept stretching, reaching...until my body just pulled apart
like a piece of raw meat being pulled in two. Thing was, I was so desperately
pulling at and for God, that I wasn't bothered about the pain.
That picture
ended, and I was now at the front. I said to myself, "OK God, please make
me well; just do it..and if You don't then fair enough....but what on earth is
going on, that I feel like my whole life's purpose is all about this actual
evening?"
I stood there
both asking God to do something, yet now increasingly registering
really unpleasant emotions:I had a sense of terror, pain,
darkness...that were so buried, so old in my memory that it felt
like the very template and origin for fear in me.
I opened my eyes
in the shock of this...and my gut just said run! I thought, "No! This can't be of
God because God is love," and I looked around to see if anyone was getting
hands put on them, falling over or doing anything "demonic". I was
sort of surprised that I oddly felt somehow(though distantly) safe...I
was conscious of myself testing this experience in the extreme. I was
saying to myself, "right, the minute I get any sense of no truth
in this experience, I'm out the
door and I'll wait for my friends outside." I exerted all my
"truthsense" in expectation of something "dodgy"...but
remarkably could find in my spirit, no sense of it being anything other
than very OK.
This was
totally at odds with how my body and emotions felt: my stomach was in a painful
knot, and these "old", dark terrors...that were so strong and vile that
I could not remember having them before, kept trying to lurch from my
stomach. I thus kept saying, "No! This can't be from You God."
In fact, the
terror worsened, as I remembered the only time before in my life feeling like this, was on the night I got saved and
met Jesus, 6.30 pm one Monday night waaay back in January 1990: I had been
delivered in quite a painful and dramatic way from what God showed me after was
actual spiritual bondage(inappropriate for me to describe here).
Though my
feelings thus registered extreme pain, abandonment and terror...as I
stood at the front, there was still some part of me in my spirit that still
thought "it would be OK"....
I then remember a
lady and perhaps a couple of guys praying for me; I dimly thought, "well,
that's a relief..they're not putting hands on me, pushing my forehead,
shouting...or even asking daft questions like what do I want prayer for".
[I've experienced all that stuff in the past, thinking heck, I've no idea, I
just know I'll have prayer please as it's free and good for me, and if you
don't believe it, God can still do His work].
In fact, as I was
prayed for, I was registering an extreme desire NOT to be touched: Even
though I was in a church being prayed for...and generally have no issues at all
with touch within church apart from when feeling anxious or threatened
within myself, for some reason I felt like it used to feel when I was
bullied and knocked about when I was little.
I couldn't hear
what was prayed...and I thought, yep, am cool with that, as God can take the
prayers and move if He's not got His hands tied up by someone "praying to
control" what He's doing.
However, as I
was being prayed over, I again felt that awful lurch of dark, evil terror.
Miles worse this time, it felt like I
now had it stuck somewhere in between my stomach and chest like a massive
furball of terrifying tears, terror and utter darkness that I could neither
allow any further or push back down/away.
I tensed, stiffened
and thought..."No! That's it now: this is definitely NOT from God, as I
can't bear it and He wouldn't do this to me"; I looked out of my eyes,
just in fear like a trapped animal, to again check if there was anyone about to
touch me, or if anyone was being pushed over, falling down or whatnot.
I remember at
that point I said to the lady praying, something like, "No! What's going
on? I really don't like this".
She said
something like, "It's OK, God is working in you" and "don't be
frightened". The pastor/preacher came over and I think asked her "all
right?" as a question.
She replied to
him something like, "He's frightened but God's healing him"...and
oddly enough even in the terror I again registered truth in
this...and I assure you my threat-o-meter was set at maximum, with defence
systems on full alert.
The preacher
calmly wandered to me, again didn't ask me anything but just put his hand near
or even gently on my head with no pressure and prayed. I didn't hear what he
said. Again, I was relieved and registered safety somewhere within myself.
He calmly wandered away again and I was really relieved there was no drama or
emotional stuff from him.
I just stood
there. The lady praying had wandered off and I think some chap had also come by
just to pray briefly in the same way. Again, this lurching of fear and terror
sort of just came up from my chest this time. I felt myself cry out, aloud this
time, as this sob of utter desolation and terror just then emerged and
went woomph from me.
As this happened I
cried out something that just sounded terrifying yet incomprehensible:
"No, please, don't; No, go away!"...and the word or thought of
bullies hurting me just flooded from somewhere deep in me, to now play in my
mind like a quick-frame film show of slides or pictures or memories.
I'd definitely had
enough at this point! I had my eyes
shut, feeling myself shaking and sweating in terror, finding it difficult to
breathe. However, there was part of me that was sort of just looking at this,
with the oddest sense that , OK, I was indeed feeling this
but that it was also an outplaying of something I had already
experienced, and from such a long way back in my life that I only had a
half-memory of it.
Now it was as
though there were several things all going on at once, as if there was like
some "multi-tasking" thing all playing at the same time, with me
"aware" on many different levels: I knew I was standing up at
the front of this church; I knew I was terrified..and that it was of
being bullied just like when a child; I knew God was somehow doing
something; I knew I was fighting it as it was just awful; I knew that God somehow
knew it and had control over the whole scenario.
I was also
conscious in that strange detached part of me that, well, was I not already
aware and had been since childhood that I'd been bullied? And that this had
made my life unbearable and frightening from around 5 to 11 years of age? Like:
I've been consciously aware of this for years, and sure that God had already
dealt with this, as I'd not kept it hidden from Him.
And of course I
was quite conscious that at several times in my Christian life since I was
saved in 1990, yes, I'd chosen to forgive and to bless and release those
who had hurt me, despite the nature of it being vicious, vindictive and
continuous: I'd confessed it out to others in the Body, had prayed about it
with them, had given it to God, to Jesus, to heal. ....Therefore even in the
maelstrom of standing there at the front at this time, that part of me was just
also puzzled as to why on earth this had come up again, if it was indeed
"done and dusted" in Him already!
The other, more
prosaic thing that was registering to my conscious mind as I stood there, was
that something was happening to my
body. I mean, as well as shaking and crying as these unbidden emotions
just kept coming out in waves of sobs through my mouth, there was something
else....
And I then
thought, Oh dear, no, Shaun..let's just get a grip here, I told myself. OK,
God's doing something, and OK it's a bit mad...but I'm not
going to get all flappy, catch group hysteria, start falling over and make a
fool of myself here: that sort of behaviour is for people who flock to see some
dodgy "name-it, claim-it, blab it, grab it" pseudo-revivalists who
are loveless and not operating in Jesus, I was saying to myself.
So, just to
make sure, I steeled myself to just somehow allow God to do what He was doing and
keep a tight rein on my emotions. I remember also locking my knees as I was
standing, so that no-one got the wrong idea and started to push me over! I will
stay in control of my emotional behaviour, was my command to myself.
Then the lady who
had prayed for me came back, and I again asked something like, "please,
I'm not normally like this...what on earth is happening?"
She said,
"God is doing some deep healing in you; it's OK, just allow Him to."
The odd thing about this was that it felt like God was also
Himself saying those words to me. I remember again asking her the same question
a little later on; this time I think she said, "God is doing some deep
major surgery in you, it's going to be OK,"..and again it felt to me like
God was actually saying those words to me too either at the same time or just
after.
I'm aware all the
above sounds like it was lasting a long time but it felt at the time like about
20 minutes or so, it's just that there was so much happening in what felt like
a short time.
Around that time,
as I was still standing, with legs locked against the possibility of overt
emotional display(!) and with eyes shut in both prayer but concentration that
"I really do not want to do anything that is even subconsciously
attention-seeking," I felt God saying to me but in a really gentle,
patient and kind way, "Shaun, I am doing a work in you right now
of deep major surgery, and I know you're frightened, but please allow me to as
I need your permission to let Me do it [such a freeing, loving
thing]." There was like an unspoken voice in this, also communicating, "I
will never leave, abandon or forsake you".
So I said to Him
in my heart and mind, "I do really want You to, but I'm sorry, as I
don't know what to do as I'm stuck." It sounded much more forceful when I
said this in my heart, than it appears now in writing.
And right then
and there, 2 things happened, consecutively but so very close together in
time..and I confess that though I continue to have the clearest and vivid
recollection of exactly what now happened, it is testing the
limits of my written and descriptive power to actually convey in human words.
In fact, it's taking me about 2 pages to cover these 2 things, even though they
seemed to happen really quickly.
Firstly, though I of course knew I
was standing at the front of a church in a Welsh industrial estate...I was also
at a precise place and time in my childhood, when I was 6 years old. That
is, it was not a memory...though in my conscious adult memory I had a
vague recollection that this was one of several shadowy bullying incidents I'd
experienced. But now: it was like God was saying, "I want to show you
this, as this is what happened/is happening to you. I am here". I knew I
have certainly not ever had up-front awareness and clear memory of it though.
The thing
was...I just knew and was quite aware that God had taken me to
this place and time of when I was 6, whilst being also with me now as I
was standing in the church. Like, seeing and realising God is eternal, because
He's just taken me to a place in Him that is outside time and place...it
was like(it was, in fact!) : I am 6, this IS happening
now...I can see it clearly now and have no need to remember it falsely, forget
with hindsight, as I can fully describe the here and now of it, because I am
here and now.
I also was
seeing this incident from outside my 6 –year old body..but at a place
that was safe, protected yet so close up to the event. So, I had several
"awarenesses" that were all one awareness: I was 6 and in the
"present-then" whilst the event was happening, in total
abandonment, terror and fear; I was 6-in-the present at some place part of it
but outside time and place with God at my side; I was also in the
present in the church where I was standing; I was also next to God at that
eternal moment as 6, yet also caught up somewhere next to God and seeing my
whole life, past present and future..next to a realisation of all the
connectedness of His Word...just understanding.
(I'm aware I put the word "firstly" at the start
of the paragraph above: I'm not even at the end of that first bit yet!). I'm
still struggling with the words here:
As
"Shaun-who-IS-6", and as "Shaun who is 6, yet who is at a
place outside time with God" who is/was/will be with me even as I stand in
the front of that Welsh church, and as Shaun-at-6-and-adult-now who is/was
next to God looking at the 6 year old
Shaun....God allowed me to see the following. He also allowed me to
experience this, as it happened in real time. This was not a replay, a
memory, but a revealing in His present of the now of this. (Phew...I told
you words are beyond me really at this point!)
As God showed me
the event, I suddenly had, as I stood at the front of the church with eyes
shut, a perfectly clear...but perfectly safe... (re-) experience of
something my mind had quite totally walled off from me ever since:
When I was 6,
one of the bullying incidents was even more terrifying than the rest of the
years of day-at-a-time abuse: Where we used to play was an old redsand quarry,
and one day a few of us were visited by much older boys, who were in their late
teens. To me they were giants, and terrifyingly threatening ones, as I remember
we all fell silent..even the other bullies who never once left me alone for
over 5 years. Me in terror begging him to go away, the really big, fat,
muscular one pushed me on my stomach, got one arm under my legs, the other
under my throat/neck. He laughed, bending my back so far that my legs touched
my head. My back gave and popped in awful pain, yet his arm was against my
throat. I was strangled and suffocated in this manner until I passed out. I was
in total dark, abandoned, eternal, thick terror upon terror, and no-one saved
me.
Actually this
was itself only one hideous moment in the years between me being 5 and 11,
which I remember as being the almost ritualised utter annnihilation of who I
was. I was by 11 years of age twisted, cruel and in constant terror.
As God showed me
this, I felt safe...even though it was God showing me the
here-and-now unfolding of it as He is there as eternal God at every point and place in what we call
time and space.
He then spoke to
me within and across all these above "awarenesses" I've tried to
describe:
He said, "Shaun,
I'm showing you this as I wish you to be free of this, because you could not
remember or free yourself from that
which you had no later knowledge of. I want you to forgive that boy who did
this and all those who did this to you. I never wanted this to happen to you. I
made you to be free, happy, laughing and running round with other kids; they
came and did these things to you and hurt you.
They hurt you
so much, then this is what you then did:"
And then, right
next to me looking at 6-year-old-Shaun being suffocated, He showed me the
boy-Shaun, standing. I had, as the boy who was standing, a massive structure,
metres across(yards in old money), totally encasing my head. It was obscene: a
huge painful wreck of a contraption made of metal scaffold-poles jammed
together at chaotic angles; it was tied with bits of rope and thick plastic
like bubble-wrap which held it all together. It was like a hideously broken
parody of an insane child's version of a nightmare house, with bubble-wrap as
both cushioning and windows. It was just suffocating the young me, totally
sealing off reality.
And God spoke to
both the 6-Shaun and adult me again: "Because they hurt and terrified
you, you made this place as it was the only place you could hide. But because
it was made of fear it was made of death. You made this thing as a child and
lived in it because you thought it was safe, and you could shut out from your
mind the awful terror of what happened to you. You hid in there but have not
known until now, that you did this; you hid in there and were not able to come
out, as you have not know you were even
there; you did this when you were 6...but though you did not know this, you
thus stopped being able to live, relate, grow, give, receive or love. You
falsely believed you were always unlovable".
As God said this
I then chose to forgive and bless the bully who had hurt my back and suffocated
me . As I did so, God then showed me the awful mental construct made of
scaffolding and bubble-wrap...but now with me standing next to it, and it was
not on my head.
As my
6-year-old Shaun, now standing next to that thing, I knew then as
Shaun-who-is-6 standing next to God, that I'd made it out of terror, aloneness,
abandonment, pain and that it was made of the substance of death. And I said to
myself and to God, "No, I will not go in there".
So then, at once
both Shaun(6) and me as an adult in the present, I asked God to forgive me for
making this horrific thing from fear, for making it my hiding-place, for living
in it all my life regardless of my ignorance...as I knew then that I had fashioned
it and had made the decision as a 6-year-old boy to live in it. I had made it
my reality with such finality that I no longer knew I had remained inside it
all my life until now. And it needed a sovereign act of a loving God Who is at
all places and times eternal, to take me there in His Spirit and effect a work
of forgiveness.
[As a comment on
this 10 days or so after standing in that church: I believe that whereas Jesus
did indeed save me once and for all on a Monday evening in January 1990, another
way of describing it is this... That He "bought the house and
grounds" of me outright in 1990 when He saved me and has had the whole of
me in His safety since; however, it has pleased Him in the Father to do a
sovereign work in "unlocking" me from a room in which I had no idea I
had walled myself up in. By a miracle of Grace He last week took me in Him to
that place in Him where the Shaun(6) chooses to forgive and asks forgiveness in
His eternal present]
Hopefully the reader of this will remember that I said there
were two things that happened in close succession as I stood with
eyes shut at the front of the church...and so....
Secondly,
in what felt like a split-second in "realtime" after He took
me to when I was 6, I was aware of now another chap on the church's prayer team
who had come alongside me to pray....
Please bear in
mind at this point I was still experiencing the bullying incident when I
was 6 as God took me to it...and also note that my body still as yet was only
just registering that God wished me to allow Him to effect His
deep-healing work.
So far in the
evening of the healing I'd been relieved that no-one had prayed for me with the
"gift of shouting" and a ministry of pushing against my forehead!..I
had been and still was feeling very vulnerable(which I now see was God dealing
with what He had to deal with and what had been separating me from fully
abiding in Him). Also, because God was healing areas in my life that most
definitely concerned intimacy, touch and so on, I felt that God knew this and
was being careful to be very gentle and patient with me.
I noticed out the
corner of my eye that the man on the prayer team approaching me was a big
chap...and of course was registering in my Spirit being "taken" to that
place in early childhood that it was big, scary giant of an older boy or man
who had strangled me and damaged my back.
However,
because I now knew God had been there alongside me all my life,
it was with an odd absence of fear that I was aware that the big guy on
the team was "in my space"...and I knew that God was still dealing
with these "furballs" of emotion and whatever else lie behind them.
The guy actually
put his arm round me as he prayed. I was thinking, "Whoa...!" but
again and to my great surprise I registered no unease: heck, this big, scary
guy with his arm round me...and while I was in the Spirit as the child I was
at that damaging time in the past.
And now God really
showed Himself to me in a way I had always been told about but had
never known as reality:
The terrifying,
deathly construct I referred to above, the broken place I created out of
fear to crawl into at that horrific time, had had the effect[as I now write in
hindsight and with His Spirit showing me some 2 weeks after the healing] of
walling me in so completely, that it either filtered out, twisted or cut me off
from pretty much any formation of a "healthy relationship", from that
young age:
God had
already just showed me the reality of Him having been there, and I with Him,
all those years ago at that bullying time, unchanging in His present and
eternal love and ever full of me in His Mind.
And now, just as
the big guy at Cwmbran put his arm round me and prayed, I knew God was keeping me safe and also
wanted my permission to totally drop my guard. So I let Him.
I felt these
massive sobs come out of me and those "furballs" in my chest come out
with them as this guy held me.
But now..!.my
goodness: As I shut my eyes and
"let God", I was again no longer an adult. Er, OK..I was,
as I registered I was in this church and people were there as per normal...yet
in my Mind I felt just transported to somewhere else:
I mean, yes, this
guy was holding me as I sobbed and he prayed...BUT I was somehow on my back
resting in the crook of the arm and hand of a massive and massively safe DAD! I
looked down my body in this vision...and whoa...!...my toes look soo
tiny! And, hey, why is my body so very small, like only a foot long or so?!
Please bear
with my "emotional" punctuation here: Though my earthly father was
and is a calm and gentle soul, and indeed was always present in my family
throughout my childhood and teens...I'd felt I was never really able to
effectively bond somehow. I certainly never have had any recollection
whatever, at any point in my life, of the reality of what was happening right
now as I was being held by this chap.
As I looked down
"in my little body" and saw those reallly baby toes, I
thought, this is GREAT! I'm really safe, and MY DAD is SO BIG and warm
and safe! Hey, I like this! And there was this rocking sensation, like
being on a gentle swing, until I realised that I was being carried as MY DAD
walked forward through the night.
I was also in my
adult awareness sobbing freely now..but sobbing that this was the first time I
KNEW MY DAD...and He was massive, safe, warm, held me in His Hands and in the
crook of His Arm, and He had me so safe as He carried me as He walked along.
It was like, well
yes, this big guy was holding me...but it was also that God as Father
was also doing this: the guy was doing here in the real world in church, just
what God the Father was doing "in the real", in the Spirit. Or,
another way of putting it: the big guy was doing a small earthly "analogue"
of what Father God was actually doing
in both my present and my past simultaneously.
And then was
the actual, real revelation of absolute certainty, that this was
God the Father...and He loved me...and that though I'd known of
Him before, since I was saved in 1990(and I'd met Jesus then at that
ime...but that is another story...), He was now real and
there/here...and miles more real than even my earthly father, and
actually holding me, in a place more real than "my reality" itself.
It was at that moment then, that God showed me His realness as Father, and in
just about the closest, face-to-face way, more than ever in my
imagination....and how could I imagine something I'd never been able within
myself to experience?
It was with
almost an afterthought that I was then aware my back was hurting...so I asked
the big guy: "Hey buddy, my back's giving me some jip; can you pray for it
please?" He put his hand on my
back, prayed silently...and to be honest I gave this bit no more thought.
I remember being
sort of surprised that I could be fully aware as an adult standing in a
church..yet also as "real Shaun" as this infant self. I felt this
then...and now believe this totally, now I've reappraised the whole experience
with God and some others in the Body.
I was then aware
the big guy was moving away. I stood with eyes closed, sobbing away but just
not scared any more...and just kind of utterly awestruck and floored within my
whole being that God Who made everything everywhere, had personally showed
Himself to me in a a real way that was even deeper than the first.
I stood there,
praying and thanking God, just knowing Him.
You'll remember I had already commanded my body not to
"get emotional" at church, willing my legs to lock so I wouldn't make
a fool of myself and fall over!
However, what with
this even more powerful revelation of God as
real Father, I was then aware of yet another jawdropper, as His reality
dawned in me: For sure He was saying, "Shaun, I'm still healing you
really deep down, at times in your life even before when I was there
with you with the bullies....I'm healing you now in that same eternal way, at a
time when you were so little you were hardly aware. I am there now with
you, making you whole. Trust me even more and allow me to carry you."
And by this stage
in the proceedings, I was saying, "Oh yes Father God!"
Well, I stood there with eyes shut, allowing God total
access to all areas as I prayed and thanked Him, with the tears just coming in
buckets. And just at that moment, as I allowed Him full control, I thought,
"awwwno...me muscles are just going all floppy!"
The adult part of
me thought: "Awheck, this is reallly embarrassing! Me legs are going to go in a minute, and
everyone'll think I'm just doing it for attention!"
Right: I gritted my
teeth, thinking...ah, I know, I'll just pretend to kneel: it'll look
right, it will not draw attention to myself...and I can just about keep
myself from falling over!
Ohdear....it
wasn't that simple!...
I was now aware that as I was allowing God
total permission to go as deep as He wished to restore me(and it was easy now
with this GREAT BIG DAD), my muscles were just, er, not working!
That is, I had no
cramp, no discomfort; I was by no means paralysed...I could certainly feel
everything and was certainly very aware of both the "baby Shaun"
being carried and me as an adult in the room...er...but my muscles were just
not working as He with my permission just carried on His work in me. I was
fully sensorily alert...but hey..my muscles were not working!
I was registering
no fear whatsoever...but I was registering a degree of plain
embarrassment!
I felt my muscles
sort of twitching...but it was like I was relaxing sooo much in Him, that my
muscles were just discharging their tension or something(a bit like when one's
dropping off to sleep and the muscles fire off as they relax).....
...Aw heck, here we go, I thought. I was kneeling, thinking,
ohmygoodness, if this carries on I'm just going to make a nit of myself and
flop like a boned jellyfish.
I remember a
couple more people(I think one was the original lady who had prayed too)
wandering over and praying for me, so I tried to just say, "oh by the way,
my muscles are packing in: don't worry, I'm OK."
But..embarrassed
or what(!)...as I tried to form the words, I was aware all my muscles
were relaxing to jelly-state..including the ones with which I was trying to
form words!
Awww...nooo!...I'm
slurring and slathering and talking rubbish...what if they think I'm drunk or
something!? Ironic, the adult part of me was thinking...19 years sober, and now
they'll think I'm drunk!
But the more I
"let God", the more floppy and twitchy and slurred I
became...and I knew that in seconds the inevitable would come, and I'd just
flop from kneeling to laying down, slopping over like amoeba-man!
Next, even
though I now totally knew how safe I was and had always been in Him my
father God, Who had been there with me and for me amongst the bullies, and Who
had just revealed Himself as Real GREAT BIG DAD...I felt another
"furball" of fear emerge up from somewhere really, really deep and
old within me, as the 3rd "healing phase" of the evening began:
Just before my
muscles went as I was kneeling, I was aware of Sarah(Phil's wife: my friends
who'd driven me to Cwmbran) who had approached from behind me. She was weeping
and I remember her saying how beautiful it was to witness God's work at this
time. She knelt behind me and held me in her arms just as absolutely every last
vestige of muscular control left me, so that I was held and propped against
her.
I was still
totally conscious, totally feeling, totally aware, of all that was happening
and all that God was doing(it seemed one timeless succession of many
"events", yet also as if time was hardly passing at all). I had not
lost any sensation, but was at this point completely "powerless in
Him".
I had
no fear... indeed, I was praising Him and saying "thank you
Father" over and over, even though my speech was totally mushy and
slurred, for His being present, for holding me to Himself in the past and
present. I "let go and let
God" so completely, as I knew He was still needing my permission to
allow Him to complete His work in me.
However, despite
the sense of complete safety and of course being held by Sarah, this new
"furball of fear" now moved upwards through my being. This is
extremely difficult to put into words: I was not frightened of the
fear..but I was feeling something that had frightened me at a
time so far back in my life, that I was only registering it as a texture...or a
sense of desolate absence of something, yet this texture was so
complete...and very, very not nice!
God then showed me
what it was...but again "in the Spirit" and in a very deep(hidden?
buried?) way, as I lay there in Sarah's arms:
As I shut my
eyes, I registered total dependence within my being: it had no
adult equivalent; I existed in a world of textures, as me
....but at such an early time in my life. And then, within this feeling
as if I existed in textures...a texture of terror, loss and desolation, that
was paralysing and total.
Of course, I was
also aware I was an adult who was now quite unable to move if I
wished God to carry on with His work in me, supported on the floor by
Sarah, and with the worship music still going and people around about.
But as I lay
back against Sarah with her arms round me, and me feeling this "ahh please don't leave me all
alone!"- texture of fear just well up from me, God said to me "this
is from even before the last time; [meaning when He had just taken me to
"very small Shaun" held by Him as Father God my GREAT BIG DAD] I am here holding you, and I will never
leave or forsake you."
And He showed
me right then that I was now with Him at that time when I was
alive in this world but even younger than the "baby Shaun" that I've already
described; I existed... but in a world of textures and need. My
"adult me" recognised in Him that this was so but my present
vocabulary and mind cannot say with truth whether this was in the first weeks,
days of my life outside the womb, or even before.
I was registering
as this "very early Shaun" the texture of what would later become known to me as fear...but
this texture was all around me, like a suffocation and a totality.
[That's the best my words can do I'm afraid!]. Somewhere at that time, I
understood or perceived something like rejection or abandonment within
me; it was very real, like a total belief, a total world.
Now, I have no
idea as an adult what this was...and indeed as I was lying there propped
against Sarah, I was aware that I didn't have to "know" with
my mind.
The whole
experience was similar to the "Shaun at 6" and the "baby
Shaun" one, in that though I was fully conscious of where I was in the
room as an adult, I was at the same time and in the Spirit at
that place quite present as this very earlier Shaun.
As this wave
of "pre-fear"[my adult words!] came up, as I experienced this
"help, please don't leave me"- texture wash up through me, God showed
me even more of Himself right as His words "I am here holding you"
comforted me: Though it was still Sarah who supported me in her arms, it was at
the same time time God as even more to me than He'd shown me already: He
then said to me words in my Spirit that were not just comforting
but like comfort itself: the closest I
can get to this is words like, "I am the fullness of mother, and a
mother's love is from the fullness of Me; all nurture/tenderness is from Me; I
made everything that defines a mother's love, I am the creator, source and
template for all a mother can be; a mother's love is from the fullness of My
love. I am Father God and I made/created mother and all that a mother's love
can be, and never will I leave or forsake you, because I made you in Me before
this"[ie, before my earthly mother...and He was/is there even before
my earthly mother was].
I remember that
at this time I was saying, "please don't leave me!", out loud; I
remember that at times I continued to say it, even when Sarah had to shift her
position because her legs had gone to sleep and when she had to let me gently
flop as I was completely prone. I remember too that the lady who had originally
prayed for me came over to me again, and I also said this to her. This sounds a
bit odd as I write it, because it all seemed to last a mere instant but
simultaneously for a long time.
At the same
time as He "took" me to that place I just described and said the
words above to me, I was still completely conscious and aware of Sarah holding
me...but then another strange thought impacted quite clearly:
As Sarah held me,
I was conscious that my totally powerless body was still completely without
muscle strength, and that my head would have just lolled had Sarah not been
supporting me, my arms splayed out.
I had the odd
thought just then that this must look like the Michelangelo sculpture, Pietá,
which depicts Mary holding Jesus' body after He's taken down from the cross. My
adult mind just thought, "how strange I should think of this," but
God was still saying the bits above about His love, that Father God created all the love a mother could have, as
He "designed" mothers and that their nurture is the love that He fashioned/sourced from
Himself. Our earthly experience of a father's and mother's love are because He
first loved us.
As the sculpture
image came to me, He showed me just for an instant that He both knew and
felt all that Mary(Jesus' mother) felt, and far more besides(much more
than the human heart can bear), in the time that Jesus' body was taken down
from the cross. It was like a love I cannot describe, but was all the love I've
tried to put into words above, as well as types of love I do not know, that
seemed to me(as adult) to be the unique types of love that only a woman can
know.
Sarah around this
time said, "ah Shaun, my legs have gone to sleep, I'm going to have to let
you down."
Now, of course I
was still in that knowing of God, so was perfectly happy with
this, even as I was still registering as "very early Shaun" feeling
the fear-texture. I heard myself say, "please don't leave me", partly
as I was still "early Shaun", and partly because I was still not able
to move. My words were still very mushy and slurred; I was comforted that
Sarah(and the lady who had prayed for me, when she returned) assured me that
they would not leave me.
So there I remained
on the floor, quite comfortable but unable to move. I was slurring away,
"thank You Father God, bless You, praise You".
Though the
experiences you have just read, did
happen as consecutive events throughout that evening, the reality in
the present as I was laid there still persisted: I was still with God as
Father, Parent, fullness of love; I registered in the Spirit, as somehow still
in real "eternal" time, that I was at once at all those place-times I
described that were present for Him. I was fully adult, conscious
yet immobile on the floor...yet also still conscious of God With Me at these
"childhood Shaun" experiences.
The difference now
was, that I knew God the Father as I was with Him and He was just
really there actually and physically. In the days that immediately followed
this evening, God showed me this same truth in the last chapters of Job, when
Job says that he "knew of Him before by
hearing, but now sees Him with his own eyes".
If there were any
additional images that followed as I was on the floor, they were the
solidifying of the things I've already described. The ones of Father God carrying me when I could see my
tiny little toes as an infant, and the vision of me standing in revelation and
repentance outside the terrible "construct" of my mind as a freed 6
year old, were the strongest...and at this time of writing they still are.
"Time"
for me whilst on the floor, was (and still is!) a little challenging to piece
together in an "objective" way: it was like living a lifetime, yet
being outside time. Some parts registered to the adult-me as both being very
long, almost like seasons...yet some parts impossibly busy and speedy and only
taking a few moments.
The part where I
was on my knees being held by Sarah, for instance, still seems as it did then
to last about 20 minutes, yet I've since been told it was an hour or so.
Similarly, the time
I was lying down seemed sometimes like 15 minutes or so, but at other moments
as if I'd been laid there several hours.
In fact, as I was
immobile and laid there, I was conscious of now starting to feel vaguely
embarrassed: I remember trying to roll my eyes
to try and act normal, trying to say, "I do apologise; I
promise I'm not doing it deliberately or attention-seeking", or, "I'm
not drunk you know"!
But even as I tried
to move, I managed a vague flap of my arm and a few twitches, slurred
away...and thought, "er...nahh! It's not going to happen Shauny," so
I praised God and thanked Him instead. I remember even trying to sing at one
point as the worship group played ...and oddly was able to do so...yet still
was slurring afterwards!
Time moved on. I
remember I again was concerned, as I "moved" between the present and
the other experiences, that my friends might just leave...yet I knew they would
not, and I was just safely "replaying" some of the things that had
happened(and to me still happening at those past/present places in Him).
I was now starting
to feel very tired, yet still comfortable. I began to be aware that a
few people were starting to leave, yet there I was still sparko. Hmm...embarrassing,
but nope, sorry, can't move guys!
One by one, a few
more people left; then it registered to me that the worship group had now
finished playing.
By the time the
worship group had packed away and were moving out, I was thinking that maybe I
should start getting concerned, as I was still incapable of moving.
Awwwno...now the
ministry team were packing in, the house lights going on, doors being pulled
to...and still yours truly was still on the floor quite unable to move.
Er...I was
starting to get resigned to the possibility that I might not get up, when Sarah
and Phil her husband came over. I'd been saying(or rather, slurring) to people
when they'd bent down to me, "er, I'm OK, I'm alright...but I just can't
move...me muscles don't work...".
Sarah said,
"Shaun, do you think you can get up?" And as I put out my arm, I found that then I could stand and was able
to move slowly.
But my goodness..it
was most odd! I was desperately tired, still like Jellyfish Man: quite
conscious, fully aware and adult but still simultaneously registering the
experiences with Father God at the points in my childhood. In fact, I was now
aware of the "Shaun at 6 years" being restored, happy, free of
predations of bullies, free of that vile construct that had ben around my head
and into which I'd crawled...even bizarrely but in truth glad
and smiling and obedient.
It was as
though, because God had tonight met with and restored Shaun-at-6(who was
himself restored by Father God having met with him and restoring him at those
times previous to being 6), I had miraculously actually been free
ever since then, able to live, laugh and run about like other kids, free!
Thus, as I was
led out of the church building, though I was a functioning(if very tired)
adult..I was also a quite happy and comfortable child of 6, happy to do
whatever I was asked as I was not afraid.
I was aware
through my tiredness that I knew God as Father, as I'd quite
truthfully now seen Him with my eyes...and I guess I was thus in "child
mode" as I allowed myself to be steered back to the car. It was an odd
thing that I was now aware of the joy, laughter and "ahhh!"s of my
friends, along with the sense of arrested puzzlement of others there who
knew me, and I thought, "oo-er...they're going ahhh at me",
and they know too what God has just done.
I remember
getting into their car, and being so happy surrounded by the 3 of them and very
relieved that I'd not driven, as I was incapable of it now; I remember being
very touched and warm at the times they again cooed and laughed joyously around
me.
It struck me, as
they dropped me outside my door, that
they hung on to make sure I got in safely. I was still wobbling like jelly as
my muscles were still weak, and it took a few goes to get the key in the door.
Some adult awareness in me thought, er, oh no, the neighbours might think
I'm drunk. I managed to open the door, tried to turn and smile in
acknowledgement, but I think it just came out as a floppy 6-year-old's
grin..and I heard their joyous cackles and a cheer as I made it.
