TO HEAL THE BROKEN HEARTED
by Joan Morrone
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When God promises us something, He can be counted on to keep it. After Jesus was tempted by the devil, “he returned in the power of the Spirit unto Galilee…” (Luke 4:14) Here he began his ministry. And there was delivered unto him the book of the prophet Isaiah. And when he had opened the book, he found the place where it was written, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor, he has sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord. And he began to say unto them, This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears.” (Luke 18, 19 & 21)
When many think of healing, they often think only in terms of physical healing. They don’t know that they may need healing in other areas. When I had the dream of God’s promise to heal me in all areas; the physical, emotional, mental and spiritual, deep in my heart I believed Him. When I take His Word as truth, I knew that scripture was meant for me. It is meant for you, too.
Jesus said he was sent to heal the broken hearted. This he has done for me. Most of my life I was mentally abused. I was told by my father and later by my husband that I was stupid and crazy. They said I couldn’t do anything right. I was even compared to the neighbor’s kids who were the same age as I. I was asked: “Why can’t you be like them?” It wasn’t good enough that I got on the honor roll. Why couldn’t I do better? I studied and tried so hard to make it. I didn’t even make the honor roll.
I tried so hard to please my father. There was only one time he was ever proud of me. I had won the American Legion Medal in the eighth grade. My Dad was in the hospital at the time. Nine years later after I got married, he was in the hospital again, dying of cancer. My husband went to see him. My Dad told him that he wished he would have treated me better and that I was the best of the bunch.
I was surprised that my husband even told me that. He treated me like my dad did.
The statement my dad made of regretting that he didn’t treat me better, went a long way to heal my broken heart. It helped me to forgive him. It showed me that it wasn’t just my imagination that I was treated badly. As a good consequence, I was able to forgive him but not right away. Even today, when the devil attacks me by telling me how bad I was treated, I remember that. It keeps me in line with a forgiving spirit.
Since I felt I couldn’t do anything right, I decided not to do anything at all when I could get out of it. I became a perfectionist. I set high goals for myself, knowing I would fail. This way I could say my dad was right about me. I was just no good.
My mother wasn’t satisfied with me either. I couldn’t even make a bed right to please her. She would do it herself instead of taking the time to make me do it until I got it right. It was easy to get out of doing anything. My Dad cursed and swore at the family, my mother included. I didn’t see until now that she was hurting inside, too. She developed a martyr complex. When my dad wasn’t swearing at us, he gave us all the silent treatment for days at a time. This was often worse than his verbal attack. We had to walk around on tiptoes so as to not stir him up again. It wasn’t pleasant. My siblings had their own way of dealing with it.
I was curious about life and adventuresome. When I tried to get close to my mother and discuss things with her and give my opinion, she wouldn’t listen. She wanted to know why I was always arguing with her. I learned to keep my thoughts to myself.
My parents never showed me any love; any hugs or kisses. I was starved for affection. Between my parents and my church, I came to the conclusion that God was just like them. He was stern, unforgiving and unloving. He was ready to punish me at the least mishap. I developed a terrible guilt complex. I took the blame for everything even when it wasn't my fault. I pulled myself into a shell. I added brick by brick to build a wall around me so no one could get close enough to hurt me. I couldn’t stand rejection
I became the god of my little make believe world. I buried my head in my books where people were always nice to each other. My dream world was much better than the real world was. Outwardly I was doing what normal people did, like dancing, roller skating, going to the movies and so on. I pretended people were different than they were. I could never take them at face value and just accept them as they were. I wasn’t accepted as I was so why should I accept others?
My real life was in my own universe. I pretended all the time that life was different than it actually was. I had my make-believe playmates. They couldn’t hurt me. I could not and refused to face reality. I lived a lie. No one but no one ever knew! I was a good actor. I smiled on the outside while I cried on the inside.
I only say all of this to show you what a mess I was. I know there are others who have had similar experiences or even worse. What God has done for me since the year 2000 when I had the dream, and is still in the process of doing (almost 2005), is hard for me to believe. Now, at the age of seventy-four, I accept it. It is making me happier every day. God has healed my broken heart and set me free! He opened my blind eyes. I have been delivered from the bondage of my own prison. I praise the Lord everyday. It is never too late.
I have been able to forgive my parents and realize maybe they did the best they could. I’ll never know just what kind of life they had. My past is where it belongs; in the past. It doesn’t hurt any more. I bring it up, hoping maybe that someone reading this will see that God can do the same for them. I just hope they don’t wait as long as I did to receive the new life God wants for all of us.
I see now that my parents did teach me many good things which I will talk about. My life wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be. I just developed a bad attitude. So many hurting people and I was one of them. If I can help just one person, it will be worth all the problems I had faced for such a long time.
This is getting too long. I will write another article about how I could forget the negative and
concentrate on the positive. All this is a big part of my emotional and mental healing. God is breaking down my brick wall.
I Praise Him that I am still a work in progress. That is why we have Christmas, celebrating the birth of Jesus. He has come to fulfill the prophesy of Isaiah 61:1 “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because God has anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound.”
We serve a wonderful God. God bless you.
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