Meet the Healer

Find Healing through Jesus Christ


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Inner Healing


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Strange Dream

It all began when a friend approached me, saying, “I had a dream about you, and I rarely dream.” She was puzzled about the meaning of the dream, in which she saw large cubes of meat. Initially, these cubes of meat had been thrown away, but my friend knew that she had to wash them clean and hand them to me.

Unknown to the dreamer, I was experiencing health problems: constant stomach cramps and nausea. After testing, it was discovered that food intolerances were the cause, especially dairy foods.

For months, I had meticulously checked the ingredients on food labels. I was already vegetarian; now I became vegan, trying to eliminate everything that caused symptoms. At times I simply didn’t want to eat, fearful of feeling sick afterwards.

(Note: In no way do I wish to imply that vegetarian or vegan diets are unhealthy; on the contrary, I believe they have many health benefits. I’m simply telling my personal story, as it occurred).

Root Causes

I decided to seek help from someone trustworthy in healing and deliverance ministry. It didn’t take long for the person leading the prayer ministry to establish the root cause of my health problems.

Growing up with a Mom who imposed very strict discipline, who rarely demonstrated affection, and who was often angry with me, I lived in fear much of the time.

As a child, I didn’t like meat: the taste, the texture, and the fact it involved killing animals. Around the age of six or seven, I told my parents I didn’t want to eat meat. This statement was met with ridicule.

If I didn’t eat everything on my plate, I was punished. Feelings of panic would rise up in me, as I began to feel overcome with nausea, and didn’t know how to force the food down.


Inner Vow

As a small child, I made a vow never to eat meat again, once I was old enough to leave home.

In the environment of harsh discipline and fear that I grew up with, food had become associated with punishment. My choice to be vegetarian wasn’t the issue. The source of the problem was the inner vow that I made at a time of intense pain and fear.

Deep wounds in childhood can be a point of entry for evil spirits to attach themselves; then inner healing and deliverance is needed.

Generational Hurts

My Mom was a prisoner of pain, too, acting in the only way she knew, inadvertently passing on generational hurts and behaviour patterns.

The survival mechanisms we use to get by can become the cages that imprison us.

Set Free

During the time of prayer ministry, I briefly revisited that time in my childhood when I made the inner vow, relinquishing it, handing it over to Jesus, forgiving my parents for the hurts they had inflicted, and inviting Jesus to bring healing to those memories.

At one point, I started to feel dizzy; as I quietly began praising Jesus, I believe that is when the evil spirit left. There was no drama; it was a very gentle deliverance.

Physical Healing

Imagine carrying a heavy weight around for most of your life – something like carrying imagea sack full of stones on your back – but being unaware of its existence. Then the weight is removed, and you feel such lightness, as if you are walking on air. That is how it felt. I had no doubt I was healed.

Within twenty four hours, all the stomach cramps and nausea had disappeared. Dairy foods were re-introduced to my diet, with no ill effects, and I even tried a little meat. I no longer feel anxiety about food; nowadays I have freedom to enjoy eating.

Unexpected Freedom

There was also a foundational change, that I hadn’t asked for, expected, or even dreamed of.

The critical voice that used to attack me with negative, violent, tormenting, self hating thoughts – that voice that had a habit of turning up the volume inside my head at critical moments, to hurl a barrage of abuse at me – that voice had gone for good.

This is freedom indeed!

 

 

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Creativity and Emotional Healing

imageDesire to Write

“There is a desire in you, hidden or already known, to write.” This was a prophetic word, that somebody wrote down for me a few years ago. It continued in the same vein, suggesting I was to express in words what is in my mind and heart.

This didn’t resonate with me; even as I thanked the person who had given me the prophetic word, I doubted whether he had truly heard from God. I tucked the piece of paper away, filing it away in my mind, to be revisited later.

God has a wonderful way of getting my attention. During the past year, I have received a series of unusual confirmations, often from people I hardly know, encouraging me to write.

Healing Takes Courage

What I hadn’t bargained for was the fear. I’m not talking about the usual kind of nervousness about stepping out of a comfort zone. This was a mind numbing, crippling, paralysing fear of writing. Every tiny step forward felt like wading through quicksand.

Oh, I read articles about conquering fears. I pushed myself hard, determined not to be defeated. But no amount of positive thinking or mind over matter helped.

“Healing takes courage, and we all have courage, even if we have to dig a little to find it.” ~ Tori Amos

I had to dig deep to find the courage to write again.

Cry for Help?

My six year old self didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. I was just sharing the thoughts in my head. Keeping it real.

One thing was clear: my Mom was angry, and my stories had caused it.

My schoolteacher had concerns about my welfare, due to the somewhat morbid content of the stories I had written. Did she think I was making a cry for help? Whatever her reasons, she made a mistake in expressing those concerns to my parents; now I was in trouble.

Surviving Not Thriving

It was a logical decision to stop writing stories. Admittedly, it was going to be a challenge, since creative writing was part of the school curriculum. However, I simply couldn’t risk being that vulnerable. I vowed never to keep it real again.

English was my best subject at school. It was relatively easy to bluff my way through, writing technically good pieces of work, minus the emotion. Perhaps I underachieved slightly in English, due to my aversion to creative writing, but I could still enjoy reading and critiquing other people’s stories. No problem. I learned the art of writing without soul.

As a young child, I soon comprehended that anything I wrote down or spoke could be used as evidence and ammunition against me. Creativity was frowned upon. My other outlet, painting, had also been blocked at the age of six, when I was punished, after spilling red paint on my school clothes.

The only private place, where nobody could intrude, trample or destroy, was inside my mind: the secret world of daydreams and imagination. Like a plant positioned in a dark room, I survived, but┬ádidn’t thrive.

Creativity Restores

Today I bear no ill feeling towards my parents. Some wounds were inflicted unintentionally: a strict parenting style clashing with the sensitivity of an imaginative child, causing me to live in fear. I didn’t forgive them overnight; in fact, it was only when I experienced Jesus’ love for me, that I also discovered the liberation in forgiving others.

Emotional healing has been an ongoing process for me. When I received the prophetic word about writing, it was another key to wholeness; I just didn’t realise it back then.

Creativity can be very therapeutic, helping to restore those things which were stolen from us, or which we defensively shut down, in reaction to emotional pain.

Maybe you, too, are feeling led to write, to draw, to paint, to dance, to sing… to follow your own creative path. If you have a personal healing story, I’d love to hear from you.