Have you a Friend whose wondrous grace
Lights up with joy the darkest place,
Who to the end will still prove true?

“Tell What the Lord Has Done for You!”*

Oh, tell what He’s done for you,
Of His love, so strong and true,
Oh, tell, what He’s done, what He’s done for you,
Others may need Him, too.

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Dear Abigail,

I am a mother of six blessings, ages infant through 10 years. I am also a teacher with credentials and a master’s degree—so your article was of great interest to me.

I can speak from my own experience to let you know that I see a real blessing that the Lord is giving you. His firm and loving hand guiding you away from an education degree is a protection! You are being spared vain philosophy and deceit.

I spent six years in the Christian and four years in the public education systems. Sadly, all teacher education programs that are accredited are based on the Greek philosophy of education instead of the Hebrew philosophy—which is God’s way! (For more information on these two philosophies, I recommend Assumptions by Christian Oberman.) The damage done to my spiritual life and world view by the highly accredited teacher training I received is grievous to me. I have spent so many hours renewing my mind through scripture and Puritan writings, yet I still struggle daily as I battle with the false mindset I so easily adopted.

As I home educate my own children I must constantly monitor myself; am I relying on my “knowledge” or God’s wisdom? Am I seeking the Lord as to how to teach the child or am I falling back on the teacher training I received?

I also struggle with my lack of preparation in godly homemaking. I did not use the time before marriage and children to learn the skills that should be so easy now. Instead I use a great deal of energy to “re-mediate” my lack of knowledge. Strange that even though I gained academic honors and a 4.0 average in my degree, that now I am a remedial student in the subject of real life!

May God bless you as you seek His ways. God’s plan for your education is one that I pray you will continue to follow:

“Trust in the LORD, and do good”* (Psalm 37:3-5); (don’t fret about the future; He will provide)

“So shalt thou dwell in the land” (Just serve where He has you)

“And verily thou shall be fed. Delight thyself also in the Lord” (make it your top priority, not the accolades or degrees of men)

“And He shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord, trust also in Him,” (not in credentials, teaching, certificates, etc.),

“And he shall bring it to pass.” (Whatever His good and perfect will is for you. Usually I’ve found the Lord does things in a way I would have never expected or could have possibly planned.)

My husband and I are blessed to hear how you are serving others as your preparation. This is something we had not thought about before as an option for training our own daughters when they are older. We know the Lord does not have college for our children and are praying He will reveal how we can help them be His servants as adults. Thank you for sharing your story.

Sincerely,
Mrs. Nancy Lystrup
La Habra Heights, CA

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Now I Am No Longer Losing My Mind

I am a little shy in telling a testimony of mine, but I am sure that God wants it told, at least in part.

I was afflicted with seizures in my head which ranged from not seeing someone across the room, but being able to talk and make movements, to ones that I could not feel coming and would completely knock me out of consciousness. One of these I had once while playing with my flute teacher, and the first thing I knew was that my flute was not in my hands and I was seated upon a chair, my teacher asking me if I were all right. Those made me feel very unsure that I could be relied on, and I could not be confident my brain would behave itself to be trusted very far.

I remember the first one I had, when nine or ten years old, as I was playing a piece for my piano teacher. I told her very proudly that I had not been able to see a little while as I was playing, but had played anyway. She was worried and very concerned. I could not see anything to be concerned about and thought it silly for my parents to think anything serious about it, also.

Years passed and the seizures slowly worsened, and still I passed it off as nothing. As long as I could be outside with fresh air to breathe and had extra sleep I could keep them down and most of the time could fake them off as though nothing unusual had happened. When worse seizures without any warning began to come, I made sure I was always with my mom, and only at home, or close friends’ homes was it “safe” to do things by myself.

My parents, grandparents and good family friends prayed for me again and again. Some of the time I was glad, but most of the time I didn’t care. For I had not kept up my life with Jesus I had received when I was a little girl, and God didn’t seem very real to me. At times I hoped fervently that none of them would ask me if I were a Christian, for I hated to lie; that was the one thing I could not hardly bear to do. No one ever asked, though, and God did not answer their prayers for healing.

There is a reason God does not answer prayer sometimes. I believe that He refused their heart-felt requests again and again for the reason that I would not be able to leave the home. Later, as I threw away my salvation entirely, I could not leave the preaching, which before had been as a nice song in my ears, but which turned into warnings to sinners, sinners, sinners. That was all I seemed to hear, though I knew that half of the time that was not what the testimony or message was about, I heard only that part. This made me plenty angry, though I kept it to myself. I realized, too, that God had gotten me in a place so I couldn’t escape: I had to listen, I had to stay with people with which I felt alienated (I had chosen an alien path, right?). I grew more angry and left off trying to do right and follow right things. I choose the way I wanted and as a reward—for we each receive a reward (“Verily I say unto you, They have their reward.”* (Matthew 6:2,5,16))—I was chained to the devil and to the sins of which I could not free myself.

The Lord loved me, He loved me so much. He was not content to let me go untouched. I believe He had seen the rebellion coming after so much cooling off (beware of the cooling off), and that was why I was given the seizures to slow me down. He talked and talked with me, day after day. Often I was in the garden working alone and I would get fed up and nearly shout, “I don’t care!” I would not be reasoned by anything, until He changed the subject. I could not squirm away from His grasp as He made me look at myself, what I would become. I was furious, absolutely furious. I said I would not become that and I would prove to the whole world that one did not have to be a Christian—most Christians were fake anyway—to have a nice, happy life. But in about a week, I was convinced otherwise. Very unwillingly I had to face the plain fact that all the good quality I had had was going and there wasn’t much left. I couldn’t hold on to it, try as I did. I was convinced; the Voice was right. I didn’t say so, but I was. All there was left to do was not give in to the patient persuasive Voice that continued to talk to me. I came out of my room one morning, went out of the door into the sweet air of a brand-new morning. The Voice said again as it had said many times, “Which will you choose?” And it seemed to echo as an empty hall and as the scripture says, the voice that is as the sound of many waters. “What are you going to choose? You still have a choice.” I gave in, my heart stopped kicking. He was right. I said I was tired of fighting. “Would He,” I said feebly, without much hope after fighting and kicking at Him for so long, “if there was any hope, could He talk to me?”

I had a horrible time getting free from the devil. Nearly all my faith in God was shattered, it seemed to be beyond repair. But I didn’t want to become the future me I had seen and I wanted to get the rotten, cancerous values out of myself. But I couldn’t do it. I tried with all I had, but I failed. The devil said, “You’ll never be free; were you ever? Just do your best.” I got very angry at the him and screamed, “It’s all your fault, it’s your fault I’m here, that I’m becoming rotten.” And he would laugh, and chant it back to me, “It’s all your fault; you chose me. Aren’t you happy?” His laughter would echo, and echo. “It’s all your fault; it’s all your fault.” There was nothing I could say. Often Mama asked me how I felt, thinking of my head, and I replied I didn’t feel real well. Guess where I didn’t feel well. Inside.

At this point, my parents were praying for me, I am certain. It was troubling to anyone who loved the Savior, specially my parents who loved me, that God wasn’t real to me any longer.

God’s hand was ready, though invisible to me, to pull me out of the mire, to break off the chains, to remove the spirit that dominated me. One evening my sins were very heavy upon me, and I hadn’t hardly a hope, it seemed in the world—I had thrown away all the good ones. Nothing was left. I kneeled beside my bed and cried out in the dark, “Oh, if there is a God up there that can take away these sins and make me clean once again, could You answer me? Is there anyone more powerful than the devil?” To be clean, clean, all filth washed away was what I wanted. If the God my parents had taught me about didn’t have it, I wanted to find who did. I squished down the fearful thought that there was no hope and that all people managed to cope successfully. As long as the small hope was there, hope that Someone good was more powerful than the devil that held me fast, I might, perhaps escape.

I have escaped, for which I praise Him, and by His help, won’t ever stop! The Savior answered that desperate call. He was and still is a good Savior. He has helped me out of the filth, the stinking, tar-like mire that held me. At my earnest pleadings, He removed the love of my sins and then broke the chains that were so strong. A favorite song of mine says, “The Lion of Judah has broken every chain.” He broke mine that I could serve Him, fleeing forever my old master. “For it shall come to pass in that day, saith the LORD of hosts, that I will break his yoke from off thy neck, and will burst thy bonds, and strangers shall no more serve themselves of [thee]. But [thou] shall serve the LORD [thy] God.”* (Jeremiah 30:8-9) This was the promise I was given, which He has throughly done, proving yet another scripture true, “So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.”* (Isiah 55:11)

Awake, my soul, to joyful lays,
And sing thy great Redeemer’s praise;
He justly claims a song for me,
His loving-kindness, oh, how free!
Loving-kindness, loving-kindness,
His loving-kindness, oh, how free!

He saw me ruined in the fall,
Yet loved me, notwithstanding all;
He saved me from my lost estate,
His loving-kindness, oh, how great!
Loving-kindness, loving-kindness,
His loving-kindness, oh, how great!

Though num’rous host of mighty foes,
Though earth and hell my way oppose
He safely leads my soul along,
His loving-kindness, oh, how strong!
Loving-kindness, loving-kindness,
His loving-kindness, oh, how strong!

When trouble, like a gloomy cloud,
Has gathered thick and thundered loud,
He near my soul has always stood,
His loving-kindness, oh, how good!
Loving-kindness, loving-kindness,
His loving-kindness, oh, how good!*

Now that from the very bottom things were righted, my feet planted in the only good path, my heart cleansed and love of false things removed, He began to help me along the true path. I stumbled and struggled, mostly because what I had fooled around with had left scars and unhealed places, which as I discovered and asked for help, were healed and faith in God grew stronger. When I was no longer tempted to look back with favor on my old path, that is, when the temptation was no longer tempting to my heart, He began to talk with me about healing my head.

I had stupidly decided that God had no interest there, since He had been and still was very intent upon my heart being right and correct with the heavenly way. I responded unenthusiastically, feeling that I was fine, I could deal with having seizures. But God said, Perhaps you can, but you cannot deal with the devil. What? With the devil? I thought I was freed from him. But he was laying ground work for another victory.

I would get very depressed because of the extra work I caused, how other people didn’t understand why I didn’t feel safe except around my parents and a very few others. My seizures caused my parents to be sad, and beside that, I could tell the seizures were getting worse at a quick pace; I could no more predict when one would happen than change into a different person, physically. Often I wished I could die to free the others up, so they wouldn’t have to bear me any longer. So I when I asked what He meant by not being able to deal with the devil, He showed me a scripture Isaiah had written, “In righteousness shalt thou be established: thou shalt be far from oppression; for thou shalt not fear: and from terror; for it shall not come near thee.”* (Isaiah 54:14) The word oppression stood out as though it had suddenly become three-dimensional, as did the words, fear, and terror. Yes, I was afraid nearly all the time and terror would jump on me without warning. And as for oppression, I had it all right. Does God oppress His children? No, He does not. And so I understood that, though God had put it on me to work His will then when I was out on my own and not in His fold, if it was not gotten rid of now, it would be the cause of my downfall. The devil could now use it to discourage and depress me until I would lose sight of heaven once more, forever perhaps.

I quickly chose, and I chose the righteous side in spite of all the whisperings that I was not worth it, hadn’t I done so many wrong things in the past?… Why did I think God loved me anyway? Then the devil got mad. He said I’d be sorry and left. Tremblingly, I felt for the comfort of my Savior’s hand—just in time, for temptations like I’d never felt before came boiling over me. I couldn’t see, hear, or feel God’s promises. I thought that this surely must be what it is to fall in to the Devil’s Churn, which is an deep, open crevass, thirty feet long and two or three feet across which runs inland from the sea on the Oregon coast. When our family had visited it, I had stood beside the narrow crack watching as the tide ran in, dashing this way and that, and toward the end, being sucked under, perhaps in a deeper hole, with an awful sound.

If you will choose the right, when faced with the fury of the devil, there isn’t much he can do. If you die, he will have lost you. If you live, he will lose, too. So don’t give in; hold on to the good God’s given you and the storm will have to clear. Maybe not immediately, but God “knoweth how to deliver the godly out of temptations” and will do it if you will not turn from Him. God helped me, though I could not tell He was there, and I held on to Him by His help. The devil finally left, and I felt as limp as a piece of wet seaweed. But the seaweed felt glad!

Thus I went through the lessons, God helping me, giving grace and needed understanding and teaching me how to pray for things I could see I needed.

Very carefully I thanked Him for each relief, each little blessing that pointed to the fulfillment of the promise to be far from the devil’s oppression, and the fear and terror that always accompanied it. The devil spoke reasonably that wasn’t this enough, to be able to call for relief and receive it? I replied that it was too dangerous to not want all the promise done and finished, and after I had told my Savior about it, the devil fell silent.

I was greatly afraid of presuming a healing finished, and it proving to be not completed. If this happened, I feared I could be easily captured by my enemy again. So I told my Savior about it, though He already knew, and said that I believed He was working on healing me, and asked that He would let me know when it was completed and that the devil would know, too, so he could not bother me about it.

I had a friend up in Canada with whom I felt safe. She had invited me to come with her and a group of friends to visit China Town in Vancouver, British Columbia. It would be a lot of walking (a lot of energy expended) and so I marked in my mind to take along some favorite dried fruits and nuts to keep my head from going completely out. (If I got hungry, and didn’t get some sort of food in ten or fifteen minutes, I could just count on having trouble.) Well, I forgot. Totally forgot. You know, sometimes, God helps us forget on purpose! When we started out from the car, I felt hungry, and remembering then the food I had forgotten to bring, I told the Lord, “Just please don’t let me be a problem for them after they have so kindly let me come.” He quietly replied, “Don’t worry.” We walked an hour through the shops, looking and exclaiming over the unusual things we saw. Then we had to retrace our steps. That hour going back was for me a heavenly hour. I did not have one seizure, though I was so hungry, I should have had a dozen. My head was not faint, and my heart—my heart was full of praise. It seemed that Jesus was stepping along beside me, and the devil was gone. Surely God had done something marvelous; He had done a miracle for me. I could hardly believe it, yet there it was—shown so plainly that the devil had not room to suggest anything. Isn’t God good? Don’t we have a wonderful Savior? “Wherefore thou art great, O LORD God: for there is none like thee, neither is there any God beside thee, according to all that we have heard with our ears.”* (2 Samuel 7:22)

I serve a risen Savior,
He’s in the world today.
I know that He is living,
Whatever men may say.
I see His hand of mercy,
I hear His Voice of cheer;
And just the time I need Him,
He’s always near.

Refrain:

He lives, He lives;
Christ Jesus lives today.
He walks with me, and talks with me,
Along life’s narrow way.
He lives, He lives,
Salvation to impart!
You ask me how I know He lives?
He lives within my heart.

As I wrote at the top of this testimony, I was very shy in letting a part of the precious treasure go to print where perhaps a thousand eyes would see it; some would be offended at it, to others it would be lovely song without real meaning, but I pray that some may find what God had in mind for them. I have given my part—may God give the rest.

—Coquetta