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Found 4 results

  1. Hi there! I am going to start off by giving a bit of a backstory, and please hear me out by reading all of this because I am in dire need right now. I grew up in a lovely home with Baptist parents who attended church every Sunday. However, I hit very traumatic times at about 7 years old, and now I am 16, going on 17, and my life is healing from the trauma of divorced parents, dealing with calling defax on my own mother for emotional, verbal, and sometimes physical abuse, hating my father for years due to my mother calling him unworthy every chance she got- only to find that my father did everything he could to make me realize he meant no harm, and all the mental issues which came with these life experiences. Shortly after turning 12, four years into my nearly 10-year real-life conflict, I found myself falling far from God. Although I had become fully saved according to the Baptist faith and believed with all my heart that God was my savior and my all at age 10, I fell far from Him only two years later. Two years later, at 12, and hardly 12 at that, I text my friend late one summer night. "I don't know that I believe in God anymore," I sent her, crying my eyes out because all I needed right then was someone to pull me back to God and say that I needed to hold on. I desperately needed someone to grab my ears and pull me up saying, "Hello!! Jesus is alive! He is alive! And He loves you more than you'll ever comprehend!" But, the reality was far from this. My friend responds less than a minute later. "I am an Atheist." My heart dropped at the message. But... strangely enough, it later was found with relief. I felt ACCEPTANCE for falling from Him! It sounds crazy because it is. I researched for a long time, mainly in the wrong places, and I found myself to identify as an Atheist. This lasted for years, all the way until a month or so ago to be frank. I am going to be 17 in July and going into the 12th grade next year, and I believe this all happened in the summer of going into 6th or 7th grade, which would have put me at 11 or 12. So for 5, possibly 6, years I have been very lost and falling blind of God. I fell into believing I was transgender, from female to male, to believing I was gay and dating a girl almost a full year. Many, many tragic things followed this initial start of trauma when my parents got a divorce at 7 years old. Now, having all that said... I still feel a strong incomplete pit in my life, this being my relationship with God. I still question my sexuality today. I believe that being abused for all those years led me to believe I was homosexual because beforehand, I never EVER questioned my sexuality. I was your typical "boy-crazy" little girl who would go to their mom after school and say, "Guess what mommy! [Enter name here] talked to me today! I was so nervous!" I can tell you confidently now that I know I am a beautiful, straight female who deserves just as much as everyone else. In my heart, I feel that. However, I hesitate to answer so confidently in person because it takes denying my past conflictions to find my true self deep within me that, yes, I am that person. For a long time I denied this person that I was because of the many times my mother would tell me that I wasn't her daughter, I wasn't what she wanted, and I was a mistake through and through. I believe truly, within my heart, that abuse can cause lifetime problems such as this. Abuse, especially that in childhood, does not just affect your personality, your social life, and your way of coping with life situations. Abuse affects your lifestyle, your beliefs, and all the critical things of yourself. I am stuck. My ex-best friend and I started talking recently. We grew up together and shortly after I went from a true Christian to Atheist, we fell apart from one another. In the past month, we found each other via social media and I have come to find, not to my surprise, that she is still very faithful and connected to God. Even when we were little and very close, I was inspired by her connection with God and trust in Him, despite our different beliefs. She was raised Apostolic Pentecostal. I was raised Baptist. However, now that we have reconnected, I have caught her up with everything that happened to me in the past years that we haven't talked. She amazes me still at her immaculate trust in God. She is now involved in leading many youth groups to teach the Bible to younger kids, as well as attending her own youth group herself. This makes me intrigued in her beliefs since I am currently not under any official belief besides that in which God does indeed exist. My mother is not much in the picture anymore, so I have free reign to explore all sorts of Christianity that I please without fear of being bashed or shunned for doing anything other than Baptism. I have been looking into Apostolic Pentecostal all day, trying to actually understand what the belief is all about compared to Baptism, since that is what I know best, and it makes so much more sense to me compared to what I grew up with. Is there anybody who is an Apostolic Pentecostal that could please help guide me and help me in understanding the beliefs? I am very intrigued by this way of praise and church-going. So please, if you read all of this, which I hope you did because it contributes so much to my reasoning behind this, and you are an Apostolic Pentecostal, please give me information on your beliefs and ways of praising and keeping faith. I am finding God again, and I do not plan on losing Him this time. Not again.
  2. A sacred place Your frontal lobe in your brain is where your imagination is, the place where the heavenlies are for you, the place where you run away to Abba Father as a child - a sacred place. When you quite smoking, life feels so much richer, sometimes like when you were a child. Smoking seals up the frontal lobe of the brain and thus stops the imagination. Brothers and Sisters, smoking is not a sin but you would be much happier off of them and so Jesus would be happy for you too, OR (cut down then quit) Buying a proper (do it right and win) E-cigarette which costs about £100, I can guide you to brands (mods I hope this is ok - I can edit this if you want) if you PM me: 5000 unknown chemicals in cigarettes. Only 72 unknown in E-cig fluid. * Any flavour from strawberry to chocolate to jam donut. Cut down nicotine levels over time easily by buying different levels in your liquid. Changeable amount of vapour. They have been out for a while now ("no one knows the long-term effects" is old now) and they are safe e.g. diactol which causes popcorn lung has been removed from the liquids.* This has got me off fags for two years and I am doing the half-marathon for Tearfund in October therefore I am healthy. I puff on my E-cig like a chimney with 6mg nicotine in my fluids. Print this stronghold buster out and use once a day for two months. Just read it parrot fashion for this time - don't struggle through it but do it: Any problems after that then go to a pipe at least as the tobacco is less damaging. Shalom
  3. I accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior on February 16, 1991. From that point onward my life changed drastically in so many ways. Only five years earlier, a group of Christians had told me I would go to hell. At that time I was a full-fledged New Ager and had been so since I was a teenager (25 years). So to come to know Jesus was a long haul down a dark path. Jesus took me down another path into my past to help me discover the reason for my straying to the New Age Movement. Then the Lord helped me heal from my horrible childhood. I read for awhile on this forum. After reading one post on here, where I witnessed the love of God through the members toward a new member, I decided to join this forum. Joining this forum is a difficult step in my life. I've been gone a long time from the church and any kind of fellowship. I needed the distance to heal.
  4. Hello. I am not sure I am even asking a question, as just feeling down and out and maybe hoping to connect with some good-minded and good-souled people out there. I'm a Christian by faith but admit I have fallen away from my faith in the past several years. I grew up in a very heavy-handed religiousity-ladden home, entirely from my mom's side, where it was in hindsight a really cultist mindset that manipulated people based on fear of hell. There was very little encouraging, uplifting spirituality that was at all centered on Christ's teaching. I mentioned this only because I broke away from that late in life, the constant anticipation of God's eminent wrath about to unpredicatbly decend upon me following me. For me, now older, I want that God I knew as a child. The one you felt and knew was real when you just woke up and breathed or went outside and saw the sky. Existence itself is enough testiment to a deeply spiritual nature that is an unheard song and praise of God. But life has a way of eroding that feeling, and I realized as I've gotten older, I take much for granted now. But this has recently been challenged by the fact my mother has terminal cancer and literally on her death bed. My sister and I have been the primary caregivers of my mom, fighting the system to get her what she needs in terms of medicare. My father, who is now old himself but still works is and has been utterly uselsss. We grew up in a very abusive household with him, cursing, screaming, and debasing my mother. It was mostly emotional and psychological abuse, but there was a brief period when he was drinking and became physically abusive with my mom. I was no older than 5 when I remember he assaulted my mom, a God-fearing woman, who was very subdued in many ways, but had enough with him and threw a small but heavy clock radio at him and went after him with a hammer, threatening him if he ever put his hand on her, she'd have him arrested and thrown out. The police came and even though my father was bleeding badly from his back fromt he radio cutting him, they were going to arrest him for battery. He pleaded and my mother intervened on his behalf. He was not arrested and swore he'd change. But of course he never did. My mother got caught up into a horrible cult of "Christians" that were lead more by fear of eternal damnation than of celebrating the existence of God's creation. For our part, me and my sister kept away as far as possible from our dad, but I was his primary target, often slapped, and had glass cups and items hurled at me. I know its pathetic being an adult man and still carrying this unresolved anger from my childhood, but now when I see my father and he opens his mouth to us and curses, all those childhood memories come flooding into my mind. I wish I could turn it off. I still remember the large glass tropicana half gallon bottle filled with water being hurled at me, when I awoke in the middle of a hot summer night after my father came home drunk and was cursing my mother in the kitchen. I went to her defense telling him to leaver her alone. I narrowly got away from the exploding pieces of glass that flew by me when the bottle smashed against the doorway. Then there was the hot coffee he threw at my face when a young teenager when I dared to stand up to him. But that was nothing compared to the horrible things, deeply sexually degrading things, he would say to us. My mom was called everything under the sun, and soon her own spirit was eroded by this man. She fell away from her own belief of God at one time, which deeply bothered me. My sister was called horrible things, and I was called terrible things. He became increasingly phsyically abusive with me until at around 15, I had enough. He grabbed me around the neck and was choking me. I flung his hangs off of me and hurled him through the bathroom door. He went careeming inside the bathroom and literally through the glass partitioners of the tub. I was initially genuinely scared for his safety. I walked in, finding him dazed but otherwise alright. I remember that day like yesterday. I stood there over him and looked down at him and told him that I was not a small kid anymore and that if he came to me again, I would beat him and let everyone he knew know just what he was and doing and how they'd know he was a coward and still got himself handed by his own kid. He knew after that that he could not physically intimidate me, but his mouth became more of his weapon. I guess I never forgave my father, a person I see as a pathetic, unedcuated, stupid fool who is merely a male and a not a real man. Coward. Narcissist. Emotional parasite. Charlatan. These are the words that come to mind when I think of him. He use to wish my mother cancer and hope she would end up in a wheelchair. Both of these happened. I hate the man. God forgive me, but I cannot help but feel it should be him with the fate he wished on my mom and not her. But now he has become even more pathetic. He's been completely reliant upon my mom and us for everything. He cannot--nor ever has--coped with life's difficulties, even the slightest ones, which he would take out on us like the coward fool he is. But my sister and I have showed him patience and he has been genuinely stricken with guilt for the things he said to my mom, even asking my sister if he "did this." Now that my mother's condition has worsen, he's become worse in temperment, and his old foul-mouth ways have returned with a vengence. A couple days ago, I was visiting him and he began taking out his anxieties on me and when I told him to calm down he cursed and called me names , I became instantly hotheaded, and told him to shut his mouth and called him ungrateful that should be suffering the fate he wished on my mom. Again he called me the same thing and I warned him I would slapped his mouth if he said it again. He did with a smile, and I slapped him hard across the face to where he cried. And I admit, I didn't feel the slightest bad about it. But of course that is not true. I was for that moment, ever vile disgusting thing that pathetic old fool before me was and is. And I gave into it and ashamed of it. I don't want to be anything like that poor excuse of manhood, including his irrational, self-projecting denials and turn-arounds. I did wrong, and it getting angry and physical made me not only feel weak but weak-minded. I should be above that--and better than him. I wasn't. When my mom dies, I will not have anything more to do with this little man and could care less for him. I am left now as an adult still feeling like that defenseless kid growing up with this pathetic monster. It's so pathetic. I have no fear of him now but just deep disgust and anger. And I don't know how to get rid of it--and want to badly. I ask God to help me with this. I love my family, and for the life of me, I would rather die than ever say a tenth of the horrible things to any of my love ones that this man has said to us. Growing up with this man made me feel oddly abandoned even though he was physically present in our lifes, emotional and spiritually robbed of our childhoods in many ways, and feeling unloved and unworthy. Even though now an adult, I can articulate and intellectually understand these emotional sources rationally, I am still left dealing with them, as is my sister. I guess, now after this long email, I just needed to write it out. I apologize for its length and rambling nature, but I see too I'm asking for prayers to any good God fearing people out there. There is still that child in me that remembers well the God of his youth and even now as an adult, there are days when I awake and breath in that first conscious breath of air that I have that same joyful contemplation of God's presence, or when I come home late and see the night time sky, I know God is all around. It is a deep, unshakable feeling of profound conenction. But I am still dealing with much unresolved anger and even hate. And I don't want these things in my heart. I want to be a good man. A loving man. A kind man. A genlte man. A strong man, emotionally, pyschologically, and spiritually. A God-fearing man. Please pray for me and my family. God bless.
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