Encouragement

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People who struggle with 'disability' can become quite obsessive about the rodent race. It's rather like earning a lower handicap in golf. One just keeps seeing it as a challenge till the day your dog thinks you're a stranger visiting and won't stop barking. Except of course, said 'disability' doesn't tend to pay as well as good golfplay does. Of course the truth is, that all are disabled due to sin and deserve death; but I only found that out after burning my itching fingers down to their tight-fisted knuckles.

Narcolepsy is a rather curious, trauma-related condition which can result in one spending up to half one's day in REM parallysis. Extreme cases have been known to emerge only to eat and excrete. Practically an epidemic in Japan, at least one in three hundred people have the defective gene, whereas in Israel there are only three or four cases in total. In our western culture the incidence is around one in ten thousand at present. This is an interesting situation in itself, but we'll go there another day with some fresh muffins and coffee.

In my own case, I was a source of the gene, having been orphaned at four years after a motor accident, comatose a few weeks and then adopted into the trauma of sexual abuse. My shelf-life was bound to expire prematurely though I was blissfully ignorant of the warning signs for many years. Although my children are potential carriers, the condition itself doesn't seem to have been triggered, though they do experience sleep parallysis. I believe that our merciful Creator Designer is more than able to re-program genes in response to the prayers of His children. So please join me in praying that my childrens genes will lead them to Jesus and not to sickness.

When I was ten I became desperate enough to ask God to be my Dad. He didn't seem to say anything but I felt a sense of affirmation. A powerful desire surfaced in me not to turn out 'gay' or repeat the patterns of abuse I had witnessed. I experienced many demonic 'out of body' experiences, but prayed that I would find a wife and have children when I grew up. Often, the Comforter's warmth would embrace me in the grip of parallysing nightly terrors, though at that time I just assumed that He cared for everyone in this way.

Schooling was another nightmare, once the worst symptoms started in adolescence. The condition was still fairly rare back then, so I was only diagnosed after my first attempt at marriage (family recipe) with a seventeen year old, fresh out of school. I was hardly a model husband to Kim or a good father to Darin, being in REM most of the time and losing job after job, but then, presto! Ritalin was prescribed shortly after Kim left. I figured God had answered my prayers as the constant 'high' of drug-induced acceleration helped me make enough money to keep up with those Jones Lemmings (who were always way ahead of me on the dusty track) and thus get the nod from another potential family-maker. Wendy soon became my live-in girlfriend. She aborted our first child but then became encouraged enough by my new Ritalin persona to agree to marry me and not kill any more babies.

We had two daughters, Melisande and Venetia (true, she did love Georgette) and they introduced me to happiness, gratitude and God's amazing creativity. Their childlike love enticed me closer to the truth (do read 'Afresh'), and just in time because, by the time Mel was twelve, my Ritalin wheels had fallen off. Side effects were damaging vital organs and I was forced back into the REM nightmare.

One afternoon our gracious Father sent a choir of ministering angels to grow the redemptive seed He'd planted in me. They sang exquisitely of His truth and the saving love of the Lord Jesus while years of dammed up REM unfolded in my head and my outwardly beautiful, Tarot-observant wife studied her lawbooks and tried desperately to guide me back to the wide road to destruction, where I was easier to control *

Soon I joined a nearby Christian church and an exasperated Wendy finally threw in the towel. She divorced me, took over the house I'd bought for us, married a VIP lecturer of wondrous, rodent-racing acclaim and turned the girls against "losing lepers" like their dad.

BUT !!! Jesus sent the Comforter (Listen ...it's Amazing Grace) - just as He promised He would. Showed me Father's beautiful 7000 year plan of creation, redemption and deliverence. # He changed me from a wannabe pack-rat into a Priest-King and showed me how my childlike prayers covered with the purifying blood of Jesus would enable Him to save my precious family and many others from plunging to their deaths at Lemming Falls in the end.

Today I'm eternally grateful and filled with wonder that Aba Father pulled me onto His knee and taught me His Truth, while healthier children played tag and fought over marbles.

Father loves to embrace homeward-bound prodigals - jealousy is good for Yahudah. Praise the setapart name of YaHWeH and His priceless Lamb of Redemption, Y'shua HaMashiach, our Jesus, our Salvation. Please remember to pray for the peace of Jerusalem and try not to chant HEP HEP - Hoorah. ^

love
1another


* control is the main objective behind child abuse and the real reason witches outrank wizards in satanism.
# salvation is the beginning of our faith, not a licence to charge for prosperity gospel
^ HEP is an acronym for 'Hierosalyma Est Perdita' and Hurrah is slovonic for, 'to paradise with us'. Such ignorance grieves the Holy Spirit. Refuse to be part of anti-semetism. The holy roman empire has taught us some bad habits. Let's get rid of them and be more like Jesus the Hebrew.

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