GUILT

Hello all,

This post is difficult for me because it is so personal. But nothing is too personal for a cult leader to use to manipulate their congregation . If you remember from one of my earlier posts, Witchcraft is in operation when you see these three tactics being used, MANIPULATION, INTIMIDATION, AND DOMINATION.
Deborah (DeborJah)Taylor (Jahwah's Little Flock of Overcomers in Moab, Utah), used all these tactics when she forced me to write all the members of my immediate family and reveal that my father had sexually abused me for years. I had forgiven my father years earlier but I was still having problems in my marriage re: self esteem issues, intimacy issues and trust issues. I believed that I could trust my Pastor/Minister/Spiritual Leader or I never would have gone to her for help. At the time, both of my little girls were sick with pneumonia and were very ill, I was scared for them. Deborah(DeborJah)Taylor (Jahwah's Little Flock of overcomers in Moab, Utah)told me that Jahwah had made them sick because I was hiding or covering up for my father's sin. She told me that if I didn't send this letter before Passover that Jahwah was going to kill my two little girls as punishment for my disobedience. I was absolutely devastated. I SCREAMED. I CRIED. I BEGGED. It did no good. I had to decide between my father, whom I loved very much, and my two helpless , innocent ,little girls. I sent the letter, which Deborah(DeborJah)Taylor (Jahwah's Little Flock of Overcomers in Moab Utah)demanded to re-write because my version was not harsh enough "To save his soul".
Naturally my family would have nothing to do with me. By the time we started coming out of the cult JAHWAH'S LITTLE FLOCK OF OVERCOMERS, my father was very ill with cancer. I tried to communicate with him by phone, but he would not return my calls. We returned home to Texas and after getting settled in, I thought I would visit my parents home and try to make peace. But my Father died before I could make peace or tell them I was sorry for letting someone scare me into hurting my family. I was not allowed to attend the funeral or the burial and my Mother and siblings will not speak to me.
The poem you are about to read came to me in my sleep, amidst the nightmares haunted by a wolf in sheep's clothing.

GUILT

Copyright 2009 Lisa M. Wilson

Guilt, like a knife buried to the hilt,
pierces deep, so deep I can not breathe.

The blade meant for Eglon, has instead found me.

I had forgiven,
but was driven,
to deliver the blow,
that would bring him low,
why I listened to the witch
I do not know.

The straight path behind,
has turned into a crooked road before me,
the fog of despair so thick, I can not see.

I am filled with gloom as I stand
at the foot of my fathers tomb.

Guilt, like a blade that my own hands have made,
pierces deep, so deep that I can not breathe.

My soul flows slowly out the hole,
til nothing is left and I am bereft.
All that remains is the shell,
the rest must be in Hell.

If anyone can save me now,
I don't see how.

To posess the Light,
I'll have to fight,
with all my might,
against the Creature of the night.

Maybe then HE will forgive my sin,
and heal the hole left in my soul.

Guilt, like a dagger that made me stagger,
is not from above,
is not of Love.

Guilt, like a sword, is not from the Lord,
who did pay the price that I might have Life.

Guilt, like a spear, brings nothing but fear,
proves in fact that the enemy is near.

As Night gives way to Day,
here among the trees,
I drop to my knees,
my face to the ground,
my Saviour I have found,
never again will I give in,
to the voice that leads to sin.

Guilt, like a knife,
like a blade,
like a dagger,
like a sword,
like a spear,
was defeated once for all on the Cross of Calvary.