How I Escaped a Stranglehold of Oppression
The last five months of my life were brutal, not to mention the past year. From October to March, a series of tragic events happened one right after the other. But God gave me an image to help me overcome the oppression surrounding me. Here’s how things went down:
October 16, 2014 – my sister Maria died of brain cancer
January 25, 2015 – Dad fell and broke his hip
February 2, 2015 – Charlie, my father-in-law, died in his sleep
February 9, 2015 – Catherine, my mother-in-law, fell and got a concussion
February 9, 2015 – Wendy, the wife of a close friend, died of colon cancer
March 9, 2015 – Bob, a dear family friend, died in an accident
No joke. All of that really happened. Jano and I attended memorial services three weekends in a row.
Oppression Tries to Close In
The day my father-in-law died, I felt surrounded by darkness. Like it was closing in around my neck. The week before, I’d been worrying so much about my Dad’s accident, especially because he was 1500 miles away. I was so distracted that I couldn’t get any writing done, and that frustrated me, too.
My sister Maria had just passed away three months before after a year-long ordeal with brain cancer. I was still recovering from all the trips I’d made to Los Angeles to help care for her. Now Dad was in the hospital after he’d fallen and broken his hip. He was in excruciating pain every time he moved, even the slightest bit. Because of the anesthesia medication, his kidneys weren’t functioning properly and his body couldn’t flush out all the drugs he was taking. I was worried that we might lose him, too, but he recovered well.
A week after Dad fell, my mother-in-law called. She sounded distressed. “Charlie’s dead,” she blurted.
“What???” I was so shocked, that’s all I could say.
She said she found my father-in-law in bed in their Eichler home. She’d gone out for a few hours to run errands. When she got home, she saw his breakfast still on the kitchen table and knew it was bad. She walked into his room and called his name but he didn’t wake up. She touched his hand. It was cold. He’d died in his sleep. She said he looked so peaceful lying there with his hands tucked under his cheek and his head tilted to the side.
It was all too much.
The Image God Used To Set Me Free
Later that day I was standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes. I felt the weight of my father-in-law’s death on me. I imagined a thick cord of grief start to wrap itself around my torso and neck. But then a movie started playing in my mind about one of our family trips to Bass Lake.
Jano, the kids, and I were on the lake in a pontoon boat taking turns riding on the floaty that we were towing. It wasn’t regulation, just something we’d rigged up for fun. And it was my turn.
Jano was driving the boat and the kids were in the back enjoying the ride. Somehow the tow-rope got wrapped around my upper body. I was trying to unravel it, but the boat was going so fast that it kept getting tighter and tighter around my left shoulder and neck. I tried to signal Jano and the kids, but they were watching a water skier cruise by.
Thank God my mind was clear.
I grabbed the rope and pushed it up and over my head. I felt like Houdini, escaping at the last second and then flipping upside down in the water. I came up for air and saw the kids pointing at me and signaling Jano to turn around. The rope had burned the upper part of my left arm and my heart pounded, but I was free. It all happened so fast–I was glad to be alive.
The Holy Spirit/Houdini Move
That’s how it feels when tragedies happen, like I’m being choked.
When the movie of our boat trip was playing in my head, I stood in the kitchen and did the Houdini move in my mind. I visualized myself grabbing the tow rope of oppression, pulling it over my head, and getting free of the grief that was trying to suffocate me. I wasn’t going to let myself be overcome by it. I said no to the spirit of oppression that was waiting for me to agree with it and say, yes, this is horrible. Feel sorry for me.
The Houdini move worked. I escaped.
But I realize now, it wasn’t me at all. It was the Holy Spirit, my invisible superhero, who came to the rescue and cut the rope with a sharp sword, set me loose, and then gently placed me in a protective bubble so I couldn’t be harmed. That’s what it felt like. Yes, I was sad about everything that had happened up to that point, but I wasn’t overcome. I was a living example of 2 Corinthians 4:7-9.
“But we have this treasure in jars of clay
to show that this all-surpassing power is from God
and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side,
but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted,
but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.”
When the rest of the events started to unravel, Catherine’s concussion, Wendy’s death, and then Bob’s horrific accident, I just kept letting the waves of trauma and grief roll over me. Kind of like when I’m boogie boarding in the ocean. When I see a big wave coming, I duck under it and come up on the other side.
When I tell people what happened in our extended family over the those few months, their reaction is horror, disbelief, and “Oh, my gosh that’s so much!” I admit, it was a lot to handle all at once.
But the images God gave me of pulling the rope off, and of the Holy Spirit being there to slash the rope were so tangible and real. He really did that for me. He taught me how to stand firm and get our from under the tragedies that were trying to bring me down.
By the way, Dad recovered from his surgery and is now home after spending two months in a rehab facility. Catherine is also doing well given the situation and is driving again.
The Gift of the Holy Spirit
Years ago when I surrendered my life to Jesus, the gift He gave me in exchange was the gift of the Holy Spirit, a living person of the Trinity who indwells me is my constant guide. Father God is teaching me not to give power to the enemy, that pesky father of lies, but to keep looking at His face and to keep asking Him for His truth that shines in the darkness.
Just Say No to Pity Parties
With all of those horrible events just a month behind us, I’d say Jano and I are doing better than expected. Mostly I feel joy.
I’m not focusing on that bad things that have happened but on all the blessings that I’ve been given. I’m not letting the ropes of life strangle me. I’m cutting them off with a sword and letting the Holy Spirit protect me.
The rope only gets tighter if I feed it and nurse it and let myself go into a pity party.
The rope can’t strangle me it I don’t give it the power to.
Are you going through a tragic event? If so, how can I pray for you?
Do you have a Holy Spirit/Houdini experience to share? I’d love to hear from you.
photo credit: Old Rope via photopin (license)
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