Hell is real

Chapter 2- Sheep and Son

    Let’s talk about a story. A story in the Bible, which by the way is my all time favorite book. When I say that I get a  lot of eye rolls and dramatic pauses. Yes, we get it- you love Jesus and your favorite book is the Bible. But here is the thing. If you know anything about me you know I am a literary snob. I am a huge reader. I have read thousands of books from childrens to full blown 800 page series wrap up novels. I don’t like books with any kind of plot holes. I do not like books without character development.  If I can figure out the whole story line 20 pages in it is a no go. You see I have read so many books I recognize literary themes, character directions, and ultimate endings before we even get halfway there. Plus uses of foreshadowing, light vs dark,  and setting up characters always in the same way.  I used to force myself to read every book I started, but have since   have abandoned that idea. Because there are just too many wonderful books to be read, and why am I wasting time on junk.

    The Bible is my favorite book for so many, many reasons. I could name you symbolism, realness for the period, unbelievable conclusions, the morality lessons which  are sometimes quite gruesome have to catch your attention. From a literary standpoint, the Bible is a homerun.  Then of course spiritually. If you read the bible 750 times you would learn something new every time.. The Bible is living and active, The Word is available to us. 

Luke 15:3-7 The Message (MSG)

 1-3 By this time a lot of men and women of doubtful reputation were hanging around Jesus, listening intently. The Pharisees and religion scholars were not pleased, not at all pleased. They growled, “He takes in sinners and eats meals with them, treating them like old friends.” Their grumbling triggered this story.

4-7 “Suppose one of you had a hundred sheep and lost one. Wouldn’t you leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the lost one until you found it? When found, you can be sure you would put it across your shoulders, rejoicing, and when you got home call in your friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Celebrate with me! I’ve found my lost sheep!’ Count on it—there’s more joy in heaven over one sinner’s rescued life than over ninety-nine good people in no need of rescue.

What triggered this story?   _________________________

Ah, yes. The classic who gets in and does not. And some people believe that we all get in in the end so what does it matter? I’ll be honest, if Jesus was showing up in my town I would like him to want to have dinner with me. I used to think this way all the time. I honestly was disappointed that all the “good” people were getting slighted in the Bible. Embarrassing and humbling but truly. The one is lost and you go to find it. What about us 99 who stayed? Why couldn’t Mary get up and go help serve dinner? Who gets chastised? Martha! The one cooking. My all time story that Jesus has just recently softened my heart about. The Prodigal Son.

Again, even if you never hear the story you probably hear the phrase the “prodigal son.” Let me give you the quick run down. Younger brother is bored and selfish and wants to go and live wild. So he asks his father for his half of the inheritance and leaves. Did I mention there is a big brother here working and working and working every day for dear old dad. Well, young son does a lot of stupid stuff ends up broke and working for people who were treating him poorly. He decides to go home and at least ask dad for a job. Prodigal son shows up. Father is ecstatic. Gives him a robe, sandals, and a ring on his finger. He also throws a party. You know who didn’t want to come? The older brother. The father goes out and tries to get him to go in. I used to side with that brother. Nope! This is not FAIR. He is the one who went and gambled everything on filthy living and we gave him a party.  The Father says, “But your brother was lost and now found.” 

My thoughts- leave the sheep and leave the son. I am the pharisees. I believed that in order to get into heaven you had to earn it or do your part. Just stay on the fence! Is it so hard?

Ephesians 2:8-9 New International Version

8 For it is by _______   you have been_______, through ______—and this is not from yourselves, it is the _______  ___   _______— 9 not by______, so that no one can boast.

 

    I have one word that set my own theology sideways when I finally figured it out. MISSION. Jesus was on a mission. Mission is a strongly felt aim, ambition, or calling. Goal, undertaking, purpose. His aim was to bring people home. To show anyone He could that God’s love is beyond measure and you deserve it too.  His goal wasn’t to come and pat us on the back and say “just came down to say good job.” No! We get the promise of His living Spirit in us right now, and we even get another “good job” when we finally make it home. 

Fill in these verses

Acts 4:12

___________  is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to ___________by which we must be__________ 

Psalm 62:1

Truly my ______ finds rest in _______;

my _________ comes from him.

Luke 19:10

For the _______ ____ ______came to ______ and to save the________.

Here is where my heart opened- 

Ezekiel 36:26

I will give you a new _______and put a new ______ in you; I will remove from you your heart of _________ and give you a heart of ________.

    When I finally realized that “one sheep” and that “one brother” were people I loved and cared about, I was in case Jesus. “Go get them!” and He said, “No. You go get them.”  When the Son of God left this world he gave us a mission in Matthew 28:19

Therefore,  _______ and ________ __________of all the nations, ________

Then in the name of the ____________ the _______ and the __________ _______. 

 I believe Romans 10:10 that says” For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved.”

“For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age. This is not to earn your salvation. Let me say it louder for those in the back. The way we live will not get you into heaven. We live this way because it is our mission to bring people into this relationship with the Father that we have found. I don’t live by a set of do’s and don'ts so hopefully St. Peter writes my name in the book. The Bible says once I have truly- in my spirit and my heart come to Christ- nothing, I repeat nothing can snatch me from the palm of His hand. 

    Here comes the truth of it. The hard part. The part where I want to run after that sheep and go find that brother. 

Luke 10:10

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrows the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.”

Revelation 3:20

 "Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me."

    Not everyone is coming. Not everyone finds the narrow gate and not everyone opens the door. I know that this is not politically correct and some think if you are just a good enough person you will receive the eternal reward. You will never be good enough to cover all your sins. You can’t do enough good deeds. You can’t say enough prayers. Why? Because in order to enter into God’s kingdom, He demands perfection. “Well, then I’m out.” Me too! Times a thousand! But the Bible tells us when we put our faith and trust in Jesus and ask his blood to cover us, God will see you as He sees His Son- perfect. 

 

Hebrews 9:28

So _________   was sacrificed once to take away the _____ of many; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring _______to those who are ________for him. 

This is why  I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes: first to the Jew, then to the Gentile. (Romans 1:16) Do I make mistakes? Of course. Do I treat people the way they should be treated all the time?  No. Does my mouth always glorify the Lord and come out with kindness and gentleness? No. am perfect? No. Therefore the law says I deserve separation from God and death eternal.   For as in Adam all die, so in Christ all will be made alive.(1 Cor. 15:22)

AND YET

 

Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God through him, because he always lives to intercede for them.- Hebrews 7:25

 

    There is an unseen battle going on daily all around you. A battle of good versus evil and light versus dark. There is no middle ground. The Bible tells us again and again about a former citizen of heaven who fell from Glory because he thought he could become like God. He is a liar, thief, and he wants your soul simply to torment the Father. “The thief comes to steal and kill and destroy; I have come so that they may have life, and have it to the full.”- John 10:10

    This is where if you are a Christian, a follower of Christ, you are secure in your salvation. Then your mission is clear. You bring as many with you as you can. That is why we try to live good, solid, honest, God fearing lives. Not to earn my salvation. Christ did that! Our lives should be different than others see it and want to know what you got. One word, one action, one thing could make all the difference. 

If you are not secure in your citizenship  in heaven, time waits for no one. The Bible is also clear about being separated from God for all eternity is very real place called hell. Some people would say that if God loves us all so much He would never send us to such a place. True. He would never send you there. That is why He sent His Son to make a way. The only way. 

If you know Jesus, let’s take this time and journey to get to know Him better and become better for it. If you are not sure if you know Jesus, here is where we pray. I can’t pray for you. Lots of cookie cutter prayers can be found, but this is a heart to heart thing. I can give you an example, but you need to make it yours. You have to mean it. This is why some people pray and think “I’m good,” but they are not. This is a heart to heart communication with the Maker of the World. If your life doesn’t change, it is unlikely your heart has. First, tell God how thankful you are that He sent his Son to die for us when we didn’t deserve it. Thank God that there is forgiveness of sin. That He will toss those sins as far as the east is to the west.  Tell Him you want things to be different and you need Him in your life. Ask the blood of Jesus to cover you and show you the next steps to take. You are my Lord and my Savior. I want to live your mission helping others make it to Glory. 

    Paul Demi, ,my father in law, pastor, youth group leader-man has worn a lot of hats-had a couple of phrases that would throw us all into the ball of terror. He was not mean  and condemning and actually carried more wisdom then we were ready to receive honestly. When you got through with that conversation you know where he stood on something. One of these sayings was “But here’s the thing…” It was always a point to think on and understand. To get that you make the choice. BUT...here’s the thing. People are praying that prayer and going to hell. People are living good  lives and will spend eternity in damnation. Here is what the bible says.

I Never Knew You

21 “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. 22 On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ 23 And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’ Matthew 7:21-23 English Standard Version (ESV)

    I have read a fantastic article called  The Uncomfortable Subject Jesus Addressed More than Anyone Else by Leslie Schmucker that was published on May 11, 2017 in Christian living. It is fantastic and I suggest googling it and reading the whole thing but I have highlighted some important points she makes. 

“In fact, Jesus talked about hell more than any other person in the Bible. In Luke 16, he describes a great chasm over which “none may cross from there to us.” In Matthew 25, Jesus tells of a time when people will be separated into two groups, one entering into his presence, the other banished to “eternal fire.”- Schmucker

“Jesus doesn’t only reference hell, he describes it in great detail. He says it is a place of eternal torment (Luke 16:23), of unquenchable fire (Mark 9:43), where the worm does not die (Mark 9:48), where people will gnash their teeth in anguish and regret (Matt. 13:42), and from which there is no return, even to warn loved ones (Luke 16:19–31). He calls hell a place of “outer darkness” (Matt. 25:30), comparing it to “Gehenna” (Matt. 10:28), which was a trash dump outside the walls of Jerusalem where rubbish was burned and maggots abounded. Jesus talks about hell more than he talks about heaven, and ;describes it more vividly. There’s no denying that Jesus knew, believed, and warned against the absolute reality of hell.”- Schmucker

    I first wrote about my salvation story (see chapter 1 for reference), because I love to hear others stories. Sometimes they are long and complex. Sometimes so simple and beautiful.  But I think every story should be told. Get a piece of paper or grab your laptop, and just start to write. It can be just for you, or maybe for generations down the line to see it. We all come to the Truth in different ways, and the bible tells us to rejoice when that one sheep is found. When that one son comes home. I would LOVE to hear your story. Feel free to email or mail it to me. Also, if you just prayed that pray of asking God into your life, you need to tell someone. Anyone. (again my email is open) then is it essential that you find a church that preaches the Bible, Worships God in spirit and in truth, and people you can connect to. I know this can seem scary. Maybe ask some friends you know are Christians and ask where they go. The important part is that you can grow in this new relationship with Christ, 

AND YET

    Through Holy Spirit intervention and plenty of prayer, and studying these Bible characters we are about to engage in, I believe that no matter where you are in your journey, we all have more to learn. I have a new allegiance. A new citizenship. Those words sound super pretty on plaques and painted on our walls. Jesus never said here, come with me and say this salvation prayer. He said here I am. If you want to follow me you have to GIVE up yourself. You have to change your life. It is not easy. That’s why Jesus said narrow the gate. So many are being deceived! 

    I had a friend going through a very significant substance abuse problem. We would pray and read scriptures. The person talked about how he/she was close to God but that fell away. As much as it hurt me, I had to say “I can not be your Jesus.” Lasting, lifetime impact is a relationship with Jesus that causes repenting and reorganization. 

James 4:14

“yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.”

Don’t wait

When Jesus shows up, everything changes

When Jesus showed up how did everything change for you?

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The One Where I Meet Jesus

Chapter 1- The one where I meet Jesus

    Winters in the 1980’s were rough.  The snow came up to my knees. Everything was white. The icey, cursed stuff was sliding down my boot, and the air whipped at my cheeks. My mom was leading the trail. Each of us kids tried to match her straide and fall into her footsteps. It was a good thing she was short. I know my mood was dark. In combination with this terrible weather and early morning, my mind could not wrap around the idea that I was out here tramping through a blizzard. Why? WHy? WHY? If my brothers or I would have asked she would have given the same answer. “It is Sunday. We go to church. After everything He has done for us we can give him an hour of our time.” 

    Mom knew something we did not. Going to church was never out of obligation. It was out of love. My mom loves Jesus with every cell in her body. She has told us about his faithfulness and goodness before we could talk back. I loved my mom and respected her so I went (usually ) without a fuss.

    I grew up knowing of Jesus. Where he was born and the stories of his miracles.  I memorized all the players, scenes, and right answers. But something was missing. Did my knowledge of Jesus change the way I lived? No. Did my memorized bible verses make any difference in the way I treated people or saw my choices? No. I believed Jesus was the Son of God, I went to church, I tried my best to make better choices. But was I a Christian- a Christ follower. No, I was not. 

    I did however attend a local youth group which was nice for a couple of reasons. It was fun to hang out and eat pizza. We would do exciting adventures. One day, the Pastor of that youth group, Roy Gearhart, asked us if we wanted to go to a camp called “One Way Camp.” After he explained it, that was a hard no for me. It was all about Jesus stuff. Eventually we caved and packed out bags for Wesley Woods Campsite in Northern PA. 

    It was like nothing I ever experienced before. Worship with people raising their hands and singing out with all their voice. But not just with the outward displays. I felt something stirring within me.  We sat down and listened. This man preached about a Jesus that was not just in the past, but a Jesus who wanted to be in my present and future. He spoke about how he loved me and was chasing me. But he would never force anything one. You had to take the final step. He had an alter call. For those of you unfamiliar with an alter call (and I was certainly one of them!) It is a time where the pastor asks if you want to dedicate your heart desires and life to our Savior.  Few teenagers went up. My feet felt planted to the ground. I looked at the friends who came with me. I looked around at all of the strangers. I started to breathe fast and tried to tell my legs to stand. But  I didn’t. They closed the service and we went back to our bunks. 

    I was devastated. I thought I had blown it. I told Jesus I was so sorry over and over. If I was presented with that choice again, I would do it!  I tried to quietly cry into my pillow. Had I know Jesus like I know Him now, I could have prayed right there and danced into the family of God.

    The next morning, I got up and ate breakfast, did devotionals, did camp activities, and I was just waiting for that moment. When it was FINALLY time for worship. I practically dove into that church building. This is it. During worship time I felt something stirring inside of me. All I could think of is where I need to be. Then worship was over and the same pastor came up to preach. Please, please I silently prayed. Have him ask again. I am so sorry for not doing it the first time but please give me another chance. 

    He preached and I have no idea what it was about. What I do remember was the moment he said “if you have never personally met with Jesus and desire to be a part of his family, just come join me at the altar so I can pray for you. “

    That is all I needed. I have no idea why I didn’t pick an aisle seat since I knew what I was doing. I “excused me” and tripped and stumbled out of the set of chairs. I didn’t look to my left or right to see anyone else coming. My eyes were fixed on that altar. When I got up there, I dropped to my knees and sobbed. Jesus showed up. Jesus became real. Not just a story or a threat to be good. He was real. A real person who wanted me. Who went to the cross for my salvation. He loved ME! I remember someone coming over and putting oil on my forehead and praying for me. I don't know what they said, but I know what I was praying.  I just kept saying his name over and over “Jesus, oh Jesus. Thank-you.” ALthough I can’t remember everything I said, I do know I said “Jesus I am yours. I surrender everything I am to you. However you can use me for more souls to find THIS, to find you, I want to do it.”

    After praying and praying and quieting my heart, I opened my eyes and stood up. When I looked I saw something new. Everything was clearer and sharper. It was like before I had a haze over my eyes and I never knew it. Surrounding my feet was an ocean of teenagers on their knees, hands raised up, or praying in larger groups. 

    For one second I felt fear. I had just told the maker of heaven and earth that I would do anything for Him. What will that look like? I heard a small voice speaking into my heart. It said “No matter what comes, I will be with you. Always, until the very end of the age.“

    I met Jesus that day. I can honestly say my life has never been the same since. Have I had ups and downs? Of course. But never, ever have I felt alone. It wasn’t flashy music because all the lights were dim.   It wasn’t the countless Bible stories I could recall.  It wasn’t a  good man by the name of Jesus knelt down with me at that altar. I didn’t hear a word. Everything around me became like a tunnel.  He took my hands and said “no more.”

On July 17, 1996, I gave my life, my “who I am” to my Savior Jesus Christ.

    So when I returned from that camp experience, it wasn't through the threat of grounding and a bad reputation that made me make purer choices. It was that love freely given when I had nothing to offer. I was his daughter in a Kingdom that has no end.

    One Summer afternoon, I was reading my bible in the backyard armed with a highlighter. In the past I have been told what the Bible said but this time  I wanted to go right to the source. Plus at camp, our leaders told us that God will speak through his word. As I was reading the new testament Gospels- the ministry of Jesus- I ran across a verse that immediately had me in tears.  In the book of Luke in the 10th chapter and 2 verses it reads like this...

 

He (Jesus)  told them ( his disciples)  “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field. “    

Finally I made a connection with my name! Theresa means Harvester! Forget those girls' names that mean beautiful or lily of the valley. I believe that God has a special name for each and everyone of us. No two are alike and yours is unique to you. You have a name in a language of praise we do not know of yet.  Isaiah 49:16 says “Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands” 

    I found out who I am. I am the daughter of the Most High God. I am an ambassador of Heaven. He has plans that are too magnificent for me to even imagine. I know I am not where I should be, but at least I am heading in the right direction.

When Jesus Shows Up Everything Changes

Who Are YOU....

Introduction

1988

I pumped my elementary arms and legs as fast as I could as I raced toward my one goal. Shoving a sock down Jonathan’s throat. His laugh traveled back to me and seemed to cut razors into my skin which just drove me harder. Since we hadn't hit the years where puberty would make him taller, faster, and stronger than me, I easily caught him. But as an adult looking back maybe catching him would never be too hard. Isn't is funny how when you finally get your hands around what you want you aren't quite sure what to do with it? I grabbed his arms and brought my bright blue eyes right upon his dark brown ones. “Stop calling me toots,” I growled with my teeth grinding together. I had no idea where this name came from, what it meant, or even if it was negative or positive. What I did know is that I didn't like how it made him laugh every time he said it, so it must be bad. With a laugh and a quick jerk of his arms to free himself, he ran away yelling “whatever you say toots!” 

My name is Theresa. Theresa means “the Harvester.” Which isn’t all that exciting while all the other girls are seeing their names mean “beautiful” “Delicate one” or “sunny flower.” All I pictured was a farmer standing in the middle of the wheat covered field holding a scythe. Also, I am allergic to wheat so yeah…. The harvester wouldn't be on my top ten name pick. 

When my mom was pregnant with  me people would ask her if she thought I would be a boy or a girl. My mom answered every time with a grin and said “Not sure but we are naming her Theresa.” I once asked her what she would have done if my brother had been born first. Never really thought about it, was her reply.  I would be named after her cousin, Theresa.  Finally my moment had come. In Spanish class, we got to pick our own spanish name to use in class. HOWEVER, Teresa is a spanish name and so close that my teacher named me. Mom- one  Spanish teacher- one  Theresa- 0  

As my 10th grade English teacher  was handing back papers he would often remark, “Oh Red, Red, Red. I don’t know if I call you that because of the color of your hair or how much red pen I waste in grading your papers.”

Mr. Pickens was the first teacher to tell me I was an exceptional writer. Mr. Pickens gave 2 grades. One for content and one for mechanics. The mechanics grade was based on grammar, sentence structure, and SPELLING. I can’t spell my way out of a wet paper bag. My mechanics grade showed it. One time I misspelt the name “Henrey” through my entire paper on The Red Badge of Courage. I think Mr. Pickens used 2 pens that day.

Mr. Pickens loved my content though. He always told me how insightful and clever my analysis was. I wish I would have saved some of those papers. He always gave me a content grade so high that it would equal out with my mechanics. Mechanics 70 Content 130. Even though I was not a fan of my red hair, I let the nickname slide because it was funny and true. To say Mr. Pickens was rough around the edges is an understatement. He was often rude and crass and earned the ire of his students. I kind of liked him. I found him to be intelligent and more than a bit arrogant. His nickname to me was “Red.” He always said I liked the nickname. Maybe I felt unique and noticed.

That’s the thing about nicknames.  Or names in general. Names stick. They are what defines us in a way. It is almost like a first impression for anyone not standing in front of you. Some cultures will not name the baby girl or baby boy for a few years. They want to make sure the child and the name compliment each other.  Sometimes we as parents pick out our child’s name before we pick the spouse! 

    It all makes sense when you realize your very name is the answer to one of the most important questions this side of eternity.  

WHO ARE YOU?

And so begins the battle of life when each of us is trying to live up to some names and live in spite of other ones.  Which name is true? The “name” you were called as a child as you ran for cover. The one with the tone that says you aren’t enough.  The one announces you  at the graduation ceremony or the one whispered about behind your back.  

    For some of us, our names are tied into our reputations, families, accomplishments, and failures.  People will know of us many times before they KNOW us. For example, when I first meet people I often go into shut down mode. I don’t talk or lift my eyes up. Apparently, the first time my now best friend Jamie met me was at the school photocopier. It was jamming, and I was frustrated. I barely remember this episode, but Jamie loves to tell the world that after I left that room, she knew I was someone she was not interested in getting to know.  Thank goodness she gave me another chance.  Because Jamie is a best friend, fix your crown kind of girl, if she is introducing me to someone, she warns them I may be a bit “aloof,” at first but in the end worth the trouble.

    I had a dream. I was standing at a podium staring out at many familiar faces. I knew I was supposed to be giving a speech. I glanced down on the paper, and the only thing that was written was “Hello. My name is Theresa Demi.” I shuffled the papers and looked on the back of the paper. Nothing. My mind was screaming at me to start talking. I opened my mouth and whispered into the microphone, “Hello. My name is Theresa Demi.” I stopped. I stood there pulling at my shirt sleeves and gripping the pen so hard that blue ink was running through my fingers. 

The voice in my head bellowed again. Keep talking! I opened my mouth but didn’t know who should be coming out. Where was I? Did the people want to know about the girl who graduated in the top percentage of her class with a scholarship to a well known private school? Or should I tell them about my anxiety coping mechanisms that I have been using for years.  Did these people want Theresa who hung out with her friends (Clearly this was taking place pre-kids.) Did they want to know about the girl in my journals or the girl on the stage? Putting the broken pen down I clasped my hands together and looked up. “Hello. My name is Theresa Demi. I don’t know who I am.”

 Then I ran out of the auditorium. I heard voices behind me, but my mind was just screaming “RUN! They are going to find out. I ran straight into the dark library,  which is interesting that even in my dreams I know books bring peace. I couldn't touch anything because I had blue ink all over my hands. Besides, I didn't want anyone to know I was here.  I sat down on the steps. “Hello. My name is Theresa Demi. I don’t know who I am or why I am here. There has to be more.”  Then I woke up.

The Japanese say you have three faces. The first face, you show to the world. The second face, you show to your close friends and family. The third face, you never show anyone. It is the truest reflection of who you are. Does anyone know who you are? I could list off titles and accomplishments. I am a wife, mother, daughter, a sister, a second grade teacher, writer, a reader. Alan Moore wrote “You wear a mask for so long, you forget who you were beneath it”. 

   

It was the question of my conscious thought all day long. It was the cry of my heart. I came up with plans. I could ask others who they thought I was, but that ended up as a dead end when I realized that they could only know me as a result of what I showed them. 

   

I thought I was a good person. I worked hard at school. I went to church and church youth groups. But there was always the shadow lurking around pointing out each time I fell. Everytime I let my temper get the best of me,      the shadow wound around my legs. I tried all day being extra good to get the shadow to go away. I went to my library and my friend asked if she could borrow my notes to copy in her study room.  “Sure,” I said. A cold shill went up my back. “Isn’t that cheating?” It hissed hot air hitting my neck. “I was being a good friend.” “Always there an excuse,” it whispered as the tension built in my head. “If people really know you, how I know you, they would see how  revolting, repellent, and  repulsive your very soul is.  Then a thought occurred to me. Who is this shadow? Is this my conscience? What if what it said was true.  As my head hit the pillow that night, I said “Hello. My name is Theresa Demi. And I don’t think I want to know who I am.” 

    Heaven heard my call. I don’t even know if it could be a prayer.  Before I drifted in between dream and awake. I heard this voice before although I couldn’t place it. “I know who you are. I will tell you.” I felt relief with a side of fear. But I have  to know. 

A plan was already rolling

The bleeding woman

Luke 40-48




*** bleeding woman***



I sat carefully down at the breakfast table that had taken me most of the morning to get here. If you were to see my emaciated body, all muscle and fatty tissues that have wasted away, you would figure me at most a teenage girl just running late to school. “Veronica, eat! Drink! We can’t keep going backwards. The doctor told you to drink your juice and eat your bread. Mother swept out with a basket of clothes under her arm. I do not let her sharp tempter hassle me. I looked at the plate mama had laid out for me. I can smell something sour and moldy coming from the cup. Another conconcution of the newest and the last set of doctors. This elixor was to help slow the blood in my body. Although she had gone to the extra trouble of cutting off my crust - I realise how ridiculous that sounds for an almost 30 year old year-The very thought of putting that in my mouth developed a lump in my throat, and I realized nothing was going down this morning



To try and not upset my mother I drain the juice in the sink and throw away the bread. She wouldn’t ask, and I wouldn't have to lie. This is our life. Twelve years ago, I believed the best days of my life were in front of me. My bleeding cycle continued which symbolized I was now a woman. The only problem was the blood never left. When You are on your monthly cycle, our Faith has rules we must abide by. Once a woman starts to bleed she is “unclean” for seven days and any one who touches me would also become unclean.



When day 8, 9 10, and more came, when the bleeding won't stop no one would tell me what was going on. What was happening to my body or when would others be able to be near me again. I would walk every morning praying to Jevovah today would be the day. “In time,” the doctors would say and walk away. Leaving my family with a large medical bill. My mother tried her very, very best. She took me to some doctors who ran some tests, and gave us some ideas but the swelling to my toes, feel and ankles would continue. We were getting desperate so we went to some less reputable doctors. Some came up with some very odd and painful ways to treat me. I knew I had been getting worse. My labored breathing was a constant picture of my health, and physical weakness kept me in bed most days. I knew the strain I put on my family was great.



One morning, when I was bundled under my covers, I heard a conversation between my mama and Auntie. Auntie suggested that we end the ridiculous chase. We could not go to synagogue, people walk on the other side of the road when they see our family coming, and you have nothing else to sell. The debtors are coming! Mama retorted, “What am I to do then? Let her die. Throw her to the front yard and pick up the bones after the vultures are done?” I was under the covers, but whatever my Aunt’s eyes showed infuriated my mother. “Get out, Get out, and not until you are welcomed back in!” Then I heard the door slam.



Mother came in my room obviously upset, and began cleaning. She was mumbling about fake healers and snake oil in bottles. “Mama?” I whisper. She jumped. I must have surprised her. “I thought you were asleep little one?” “Little indeed, but not young one.” “Don’t listen to your Aunt. she doesn't keep the house half as well as she would have us believe. When Jerimiah came down with that evil disease that butchered every animal in the yard to get the medicine to heal him!” “But mama,” I sighed, “it has been 12 years and I am not getting better. If anything I am getting worse. Maybe…..” “NO!”



Mama shouted. I have never seen mama so frazzled. “My Angel, listen to me. Your birth was hard, the fact that both of us are here alive is a miracle. After a dangerous all through the night delivery, I had my last push and I thought you were dead. Another woman who I had never seen before took you and began to rub your back.. Then she quotes scripture to your ears, and wrapped your little feet tight and warm. She said “Now you will breath. You have things to do in this world and people who need you.” The dark skinned woman with a cinnamon glow handed me my baby, and she whispered “Breath. And baby girl you gave a scream I have never heard the likes of since. I knew something big was coming for you. “ “But Mama...” NO BUT MAMA!” He didn’t save you then, to give up on you know. We are going to get this,”



My mama had gone through too much. I had made my final decision. As crazy as this sounds, I am going to find the one they call Jesus. I didn’t know much other than the major leaders of our religion despite him. I went to them too. They told my mama she must have been quite a sinner, or I was cursed. They want nothing to do with me. So bypassing this group was not the biggest deal. We had talked at a family meal about the holy healings he was doing. We joked about taking me, but how could I get close. I was considered unclean, and anyone who touched me was unclean. No holy man or member of the holy man’s group would let me anywhere close.



This morning had done it for me. My mother tossed out her own sister for me and it will spiral until they lay me in the ground. I had a plan. A reckless, spontaneous, and completely not thought out, but a plan nonetheless. I was so tired of never being about to leave my house. Without hearing horrible names they called as I walked down the street. I attended school sparsely at first due to the constant badgering, but then I had to quit because I physically couldn’t continue. I spent more time asleep than awake now.



I had found it! I found when Jesus would be passing through our town. “I can do this!” I told myself and then took out the door. I moved slowly due to my illness. Then it occurred to me that the plan was to find Jesus and then what? I can't touch him. That would make a clean man unclean. I would be killed on the spot. What if he doesn’t want to listen to a cursed woman? What if He has done His miracles of the day? What if the religious leaders were right and this man was a liar? All of the sudden DESPERATION went through my head. I HAD to do this. Sane people still had options. People who still had checkboxes left with God could afford to be cautious. But I have nothing left. I am out of money, out of options, out of ideas, out of ideals. The only thing I have left is finding Jesus.



On foot after another I tell myself. Just keep walking and you will find Him. I saw the massive crowd before I would see him. Even from this distance I could see the teacher was tired. Next time he comes I think I will find him I thought. A voice in my head very strongly said “There will not be a next time.” I reached the edge of the crowd. Finally a use for me being so small! I could slip up and under, beside, beneath, and I could see him. In my head, I played conversations over and over.



“Oh Jesus, if I could just have a minute?” or “Jesus I know that you are so busy but if you could just lay your lands on…..” It came to me. No one had to know that this unclean woman had touched this clean man. I could get close enough and touch his prayer shawl. That’s it! I know if I could just touch this man I would be healed. I got close. I could see his prayer tassel flow this way and that way in the wind. If I could just ….reach….out….and touch. As soon as my hand came in contact with him, I knew I was healed. It was a warmness that flowed from the top of my head to the bottoms of my feet. I felt strong. I felt new.



I was HEALED. After so many failures it felt odd to say this, but I know without a shadow or a doubt, my bleeding had stopped. I even felt stronger in my legs and clearer in my head. Where man after man had failed, Christ with one touch healed. Then I felt as if my heart stopped when the Master said “Who touched me?” I knew it was over. An unclean woman touched the cleanest of the clean men. I was dead. Death by stoning. Peter tried to convince him that everyone was pushing on him. How can we find just one? My heart almost settles. But Jesus said, “Someone deliberately touched me, for I felt healing power go out from me.”



No going back now. I deserved whatever consequences I received. I tried to stand but my legs were so shaky I actually collapsed in front of the Savior. “I have no right to be in the same area as you. I have bled for the last 12 year and nothing could help. I was dying. So I came to touch you. Not to beg or plead my cas, e but simply touch your tassel and be healed. My head down, the rocks grating into my knees, I felt him kneel down beside me.. He took hold of my chin and said “Daughter,”he smiled, “your faith has made you well. Go in peace.” My eyes filled as I repeated the word “daughter” over and over. This clean, holy, and just man had called me daughter. The law demanded death and retribution. He first healed my blood, and then with one word, the word daughter, healed my soul. I know He was on his way to something or someone. He smiled and nodded. The first time in 12 years, I smiled back.