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  • Writer's pictureTaryn D

Words that resuscitated me

Texas Jeff

Osoyoos, BC

(Border town trafficking hub)


Blessings, dear readers. Praise Yah for his mercy.

I'm praying for all who are coming to this little well. I'm grateful. I pray that Yeshua visits you, wherever you are, as he did with the woman at the well, exposing her secrets, that she may drink his living water for healing and never thirst again. (John 4) Nothing can be healed unless it's first brought into the light. Hallelujah.


This testimony is not for everyone.


Self-Portraits, Age 20, "Esperanza"


Below are words that saved my life, on my 7 year long exodus out of the cult of modern Christianity and satanic ritual abuse in these synagogues of satan. It's by Yeshua's saving mercy, that I stand to testify, for his glory and the deliverance of the lost sheep of the house of Israel.



If my testimony can extend a hand of hope to someone who is in captivity, suffering and afraid, then I pray that you will hear the voice of the real Father, Yahweh, Elohim, Abba, running urgently, to your screams and cries -- the silent ones of utter hopelessness, especially.


"La-la-la", Age 19


You are not invisible to him.

You are not refuse to him.

You are loved and wanted.

He is the deliverer, Redeemer and the healer.


There is nothing more powerful than the living Word of Yahweh, who loves and extends himself towards the broken, desperate and contrite. Contrite means to be literally ground to dust, to the finest possible point of powder.


Zombie, Age 18


The blood of the Lamb can wash you clean and resurrect all that was destroyed and stolen. That's why He gave his only begotten Son -- for your own precious life and dire need. That He -- Almighty God, may answer it.


May this be the end of despair, torment, hopelessness, loneliness and confusion . . . And the beginning of your exodus into healing, peace and the PROMISE of your inheritance through faith in the God of Israel. He is still good, even if it has felt like the opposite.


It was not my plan to share my personal testimony online. Several years ago, Yeshua told me that the time would come. Despite my initial reticence, I rejoiced in humility, that he might use me at all. Since discovering how grievously common and "unspecial" my testimony is, I've taken up the deep lament in Lamentations 2 through 4, regarding the church and those who are being slain there, by the wrong spirits. This is the heart of Yeshua.


My witness is not for everyone. But, it is for someone.


Psalm 103 - The Rescue


Yeshua is faithful. Thanks for reading.



Inside the

Upside

Down,

baby’s breath is plucked from every bed

as it buds with ruthless claws

Air is snatched out of parched lips

that grasp desperately

for a cool taste of a deep inhale.

Its usual sweetness burns

through constricted exhales

that twist sinuously in midair

permitting just enough wheezing for

Dela

yed

resp

onding

smiling

moving

laughing


"Zerox Oblivion", Age 18


I’ve been locked away again

inside the invisible place. The genuine

and familiar sound of my own voice is

contorted by a black atmosphere into

an eerie, distant off-note. How can

anyone see you are not you, when it is

so natural to impersonate yourself?


Every word and blossom slithers

through my stomach. The sun pulses

too brightly and loudly in my ears. The

Cheerios scream silently

from their bowls

as they down in milk

My eyes dart to the tree through the window,

vibrating in my peripheral vision. It stops

and the clock thumbs its nose at me out of the corner of my eye. The house hovers heavy over my shoulders and the moving, melting world floods

my limbs with its foreboding crawl


Despairingly, I try to hold the face

of my chattering child

in the tunnel vision of

a pinhole camera


When I lay down to rest

the upside down pounds on my heart

and undulates through my veins and

mocks my rebuke


God's Word rescues me from drowning

in the serpentine rivers of my view

although I often wish to


His grace reverses the undertow

and his kindness invites

repentance for His thoughts,

where my insight

turns to snakes

and the buoyant resilience

of the cross takes me

through another gritty day,

called good by the Lord.


My insides plunge for the exit

because they can't take

another day inside my skin

yet the King of Kings holds fast

his throne through every whipping

torrent -- Captain of the high seas


The upside down has come for me

but Yeshua has answered my call


but not by turning it right-side up


He answered

by turning me

inside out

His

heart

His

Throne

outward facing

leading

Larger than I

Myself, in Him

and He in me

Peace-abiding

Joy-giving

hand and hand

where I'm

walking this

still upside

down world

with fight

By his light


But, I’m here


Upright





Blessed are the poor in spirit,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.


Blessed are they who mourn,

for they shall be comforted.


Blessed are the meek,

for they shall inherit the earth.


Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness,

for they shall be satisfied.


Blessed are the merciful,

for they shall obtain mercy.


Blessed are the pure of heart,

for they shall see God.


Blessed are the peacemakers,

for they shall be called children of God.


Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness,

for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."


Gospel of Matthew - 5




A naive girl 

in one fell motion

drank in deeply

a deadly potion


Despite red flags

his gaze felt good

His magic mirror

made her feel understood


His twinkling eye

dripped adoration

and there, she basked

in its temptation


Hooked by line

after line after line

to sinker

She gave her heart 

and mind to tinker


He cast a fog into her room 

that choked the life out 

of her bloom 

A slow drip gas 

like thick perfume 

began to strangle 

with fangs, consumed 


Her tears met only echos

not deserving contemplation

for he only looked into her eyes 

to see his own reflection 


Petitions and prayers 

and secret recordings 

covert cries for help 

and patronizing ignoring 


She turned the other cheek 

on deceit and infidelity

Who'd believe her pain 

with his charmed veneer identity?


"Maybe it's my fault

– then it can change!

I can save this

from the early grave!" 


His favorite game  

of shifting blame

cast a spell 

of gaslight shame

to make her what 

she then became –


A deformed, spent 

and bent reduction

stumbling, coped

with all addictions

until the cross 

of love’s conviction

came for her in

truth's contrition

 

but, her feet 

just couldn't 

seem to listen


She tried to drown 

the glare's

compunction 

yet, would not 

leave that hellbent 

dungeon 


So, in fear and twisted 

submission, she 

walked the line of 

hell's commission 


In deepest depths

of pain’s profusion 

she fell for hell’s 

perverse seductions

Followed him

into to confusion

agreed with love

that was delusion


Clarity came round often

to try and make her see

but, acceptance flees  

at what you hope is true

when your captors say 

that they are praying for you  


One man died 

and bled, perfection 

laid down his life 

for her salvation

cleansed her soul 

of that corruption 

raised back up 

then, snap –

assumption! 


He took her far 

from death's 

dark functions

became the door

out from dysfunction 

crowned her with 

his joyful unction 

gave her his heart 

and sweet devotion  


And so, when tension

throws suspension

she laughs, until it turns direction

With every single breath 

she mentions 

her savior, Christ 

who paid her ransom 



Age 18 👁️



Narcissus wears a smile

Holding up a mirror 

He'll emulate your every move

Trying to look familiar


He'll seduce you with his charm

And siphon spell your sympathy

He'll mask himself, so you'll disarm

Till one dark day's epiphany


All that's done in darkness

Will one day be exposed

The truth has always won

Tis' enough for God to know



"Justice" Age 18



I fumble for key, hands slick with sweat. Nothing works. Combination locks appear on bars, broad as night. I dial and dial and dial. No click.


I gaze hazily at the scratches on the wall. They grin lecherously, like rows of teeth. I claw another year, weeping.


My eyes dart through the bars of the cellar. The shadows of people. I scream for help, but a louder scream covers it. They dodge and vanish.


"All who call on the name of the Lord will be saved," I breathe. But my sword ricochets off the cage with a bang.


Jesus points to an open door.


The door pointing to a door.


My heart races in agony. I turn away, flipping pages, frantically. Shoveling. Deeper.

Deeper.

Deeper.

Deeper.


I raise my blunted shovel higher above the bedrock, in a prayer,


"Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but God delivers us from them all."


Swiftly, his scarred right hand grips mine with the force of a thousand waterfalls. It stings my bleeding knuckles. I hesitate. And try to fling Him off. We wrestle, frozen. He shows me the door. It's still ajar.


The door pointing to a door.


I pretend not to see it. He releases me. I drop my possessions. Trembling knees churn mire, like tar. I grope in the dark, looking for another way. Any other door.


I ransack my heart to cleanse myself of sin that I can only assume bought me this hell. I find plenty.


Despair.


"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness will not overcome it," I yell.


Again, Jesus motions to the door. The door pointing to a door.


It's still too narrow. I can't carry my wants through. I'm afraid.


The gnashing grows louder. I cover my ears and run back to the lock, whispering,


"If I say, surely the darkness will cover me. Surely the dark is not dark to you, for the night is as bright as day."


Like a ghost, my hand goes through the lock. I scream for Jesus.


This time, only the open door.


I squint towards it. The chop of wood clinks across rock. My ears wince. I'm dizzy. A ram brays, faintly. My life spins.


"My son's life," says His voice, beyond it.


I look away from the door and declare to the bars,


"If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move."


Silence.


I look back for the door. I can't find it. I can't remember where it was. Or, if I imagined it.


I lay limp, wheezing in the thickness of the foul air. Tossed in a grave of dented keys, scattered among bashed-in locks. Bones clinging to a fading heart.


Surrender.


Jesus and his door reappear, like a mirage. I reach a parched hand towards his water and it dissipates to stone.


"Submission."


The word carries a fragrance that subdues the stench of decay. Roses.


I can hardly move. My blackened heart feels fastened to the floor. I confess that I don't have the legs to follow him out.


Swifty, I grow aware of mighty arms beneath me. I hear the door close, gently, behind me as I'm carried across the threshold and into the fresh, still air.





Rejected by the world

and even by my flesh

flogged upon a sickbed

and still could find no rest

no home

no place

no safe

no head


The looks are snide

The accuser derides,

"What kind of Father

leaves you desolate?"


Silent is my answer

I need not prove a point

For, if a pearl I uttered

the swine would come

devour and plunder


My heart is steadfast

My body faint

If I’ve learned anything

from Jesus

it's that glory grows

under temperance

and restraint

Mouths like graves roar

as water brims my eyes

Yet, I refuse to blink

Can you hear the rumble

of hoofbeats stampede by?


I raise a new song

within my breath

It's the knife upon their ropes

His right arm pulling me to his side

to ignite my grief with hope

A flame of fire and blood

True love and ashen vengeance

The King of Kings makes war

for the acquittal of his defendants


The wielding of his rod

strikes the scoffer dumb

They run while no one chases

for they know that the Word won


The brightness of his beauty

refracts through my tears

restoring all that's stolen

redeeming barren years


An "Aha!" cracks the sky


Branches groan to shed

golden leaves for healing


The cadence of his heartbeat

marks me for His sealing


A cast of ravens scatter

Headless horsemen

drop their platters

All glory and all honor

to my Knight in shining armor



🕯️"Hasten, O God, to save me; O LORD, come quickly to help me. May those who seek my life be put to shame and confusion; may all who desire my ruin be turned back in disgrace. May those who say to me, "Aha! Aha!" turn back because of their shame." Psalm 70







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