HAZEL'S STORY - Part 3

The End Of The Journey - The Beginning Of New Life

Following the time when my husband left us, I fell into a terrible depression and really began to question everything. But to whom could I turn? If you dared speak anything negative you were considered to be Satan's seed and you would be shunned. With time the messages and revelations became more distorted, even including some Hindu influences. There were times I would desperately call out to the Lord for deliverance and understanding.....Now we were required to have all night chain praises. Laurie decided that from 11 pm to 6 am we would sing and praise. In fact he had overseers that would watch and make certain that we wouldn't fall asleep or stop. We became exhausted.

One day I was bitten by a scorpion at the end of my great toe. The pain was excruciating. What was the local remedy?? They took a needle to make the hole significantly larger, then packed it with sea salt. Just when I thought I could endure no more, they then lit the salt on fire and the pain that radiated up my leg was definitely a ten!!!! However, when the pain subsided, I had no more problem as I am certain any poison was cauterized. So what did I know about scorpion bites: I needed to trust their ancient methods; and by the grace of God it worked.

Now, at this time in Madras state there were some communistic uprisings and the state fell under Marshall control. For us this meant the political climate had changed towards foreigners and also that it was difficult to get food. I recall eating rice that was rancid because it had gotten wet. It smelled like pig manure when cooked. However, we were so hungry, that we would close our noses in order to swallow and get something into our stomach. I remember stripping leaves off trees and trying to cook them so the children would have some form of vitamins.

The German, Swiss and US governments had advised their citizens to return home. Now many of the residents were contacting relatives at home for return tickets and leaving. There was no choice now for Laurie but to allow the people to leave, it was beyond his control. Because Canadians were part of the Commonwealth, they were not asked to leave. Finally, in July 1977 the Indian government informed me that my eight your old American son would have to leave; thus was the hatred toward Americans at this time. It was then that I was allowed to contact my now ex-husband. He was faithful to his promise and did send return tickets.

Upon my arrival in Canada, I made a collect call to the children's daddy. He happened to be home that day sick and we were able to talk briefly. To my shock he arrived the very next morning with his new wife, even before I was awake. I was terrified, thinking that he would take the children away from me now. As we faced each other we began to cry and it became apparent to all present, that there was still love between us. As I had faithfully told the children over the years that they had a wonderful daddy that loved them there was no fear for them to see him, only joy. That day they spent with him. Later he requested that I return to the United States so that he could spend more time with his children, and I concurred.

The culture shock was horrendous. I knew nothing of 'Watergate', fashion, changes of the past six years. After almost eleven years away from the workforce, I would return to nursing to try to support myself and my children. The spiritual confusion was worst of all. I had lost my reality with truth. I was taught that all denominations were of the Babylon system and now to whom should I turn to for support and fellowship?? Oh yes, I continued to pray, but my theology was wrong and I had believed a deceiving spirit. What I actually needed was to be 're-programed', but at that time it did not seem available.

After months of sleepless nights, I finally made a decision to seek help from a minister. When I shared my story with him, I could see he was at a loss as to how to help or even pray for me. I left in despair. Emotionally, it was also difficult to remain in the same city as my former husband. I then moved five hundred miles away to pick up a relationship with a man I had known previously. Here I began to attend a small church where every Sunday I heard the message of the love of God and His mercy. This penetrated all my darkness and fear. How soothing it was to my wounded soul. For so long I had lived under fear, not love; bondage, not freedom; confusion, not truth. I had allowed someone else to tell me how to behave, what to believe rather than taking responsibility for my own spiritual growth. I now realized I needed deliverance from all the lies and thoughts that were still tormenting my mind. Would God forgive my blatant error, my willful sin? When I approached this minister, he simply told me to come after the service every Sunday evening and he would anoint me with oil and pray that my mind would be set free of all previous teachings. This is did. I can tell you that no longer do I, nor do I wish to recall the twisted doctrine of lies that I heard preached. For me, the struggle I had was accepting Gods' forgiveness. I was tormented with guilt realizing all the damage I had caused. My broken marriage, my children without their daddy in the home; I was so ashamed. Because of this shame I did not want to tell my story for years. I realize now that I should have had counseling, which may have saved much heartache in relationships, in matters of learning to trust again, or to accept authority. Decision making became extremely difficult for me as I would always second guess myself. The question always came up, "was I taking another wrong turn, was this decision going to impact someone else's life??"

Little by little the Holy Spirit would reveal these things as I struggled with them and helped to set me free and find balance again. More than ever before I saw the importance of 'rightly dividing the Word of Truth', and this became a mission for me as I studied the Bible. Anyone can read the Bible and make it say what they want to by taking scriptures out of context. I now ask the Holy Spirit to reveal the Word to me and let the Bible speak to me.

Some of the lessons I learned from all this:

1. Before you make major decisions, seek wise counsel from elders--and not among your peers or own fellowship group as they well only agree with your opinion.

2. Don't believe that anyone person or group holds all the truth or revealed word of God. This is arrogance. (read Ezk. 13-14) about prophets that prophesy out of their own imagination saying, "the Lord declares". Also in Rev. 22:18 about anyone that adds to or takes away from the word of God.

3. It is important to become mature in the use of Gods' word. Heb. 5:14 says, But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil. Remember Satan often appears as an angel of light and many times sits in the front pews.

4. Fear the Lord; meaning to respect Him and hate sin as He does. Do not fear man or be ensnared by his words. Christ has set us free to live and be led by the Spirit.

5. Have a heart quickly ready to repent when you know you have taken a wrong path or listened to a wrong spirit. Arrogance and pride God resists, but with those of humble hearts He will restore by His grace.

I thank God everyday for His forgiveness and His restoring grace in my life. I pray that this testimony will bear witness to the mercy of God to deliver when we are led astray. He doesn't abandon us when we turn to Him with a heart full of repentance. In these days when there are many voices screaming for our attention and saying that we have the true way, stay with the simple truth of Gods' word and let Him guide you into all truth.

HAZEL'S STORY - Part 2

ARRIVING IN INDIA

Our anticipation was high arriving in India, we knew the trumpet call of Christ was near. As the plane descended, the smell of curry, sweat and humidity came up into my nostrils and I wondered, "do I have what it takes to endure???" The temporary discomforts of heat, bugs, strange foods, strange languages, strange customs, "would be endured with gladness and no murmuring", we were informed. The six yards of sari that I wore were soon drenched in sweat as our Ambassador car journeyed onward to our destination. Setting two deep in the car, being overcrowded was soon to be an everyday occurrence . As we arrived in a small village, Gandinager, we were now only fifty miles up from the tip of India. Truly, we were in a remote area of south India. Many of the Indians there had never seen white people before. Both of my children were blond and many of the natives just wanted to touch their skin or their hair. In their world only their gods were white skinned.

Daily, people arrived from many countries. There were some from Switzerland, Germany, Canada, USA as well as from different states in India.

We attended services twice daily on the house rooftops. The services went on for many hours as each message had to be translated into five different languages. Housing was provided there for six months while an 'ASHRAM' was being prepared for us in a desert area about fifteen miles from there. In each house several families were placed, trying to cope with cultural changes and with different personalities. Each day held new challenges. The constant battle with bed bugs, food too spicy for children and adults, and diarrhea wore on all of us. As time elapsed, P. Laurie kept us encouraged with his messages and new revelations. Finally, the time arrived to move to the desert and we were placed in small cement rooms with a large pundle in front, which was like a large cement patio with a palm thatched roof. This was a common area for all during the day. Foreigners were in one long block and the Indians were in another block. We met in the open aired tabernacle at sunrise and sunset. For meals we sat squat legged on the cement patio with our tin bowl and ate with our right hand as do the Indians. Breakfast consisted of a black bean called 'carnum' a food usually fed to goats, high in protein. The evening meal was usually red rice and a thick vegetable and dhal sauce. Saturday, the Sabbath, was a day of fasting for all, including the children. If they cried with hunger we just gave them another drink of water. We were required to read ten chapters of scripture daily. My son and daughter both learned to read in this manner. Following services in the morning, the women would rush to the large well to wash their clothes on the rocks and dry them in the breeze before the intense heat of the day. In the afternoons we would lay on our straw mats on the cement floor to rest until the heat or monsoon rains had passed. In the tropics darkness came at six pm. Before this, we all would have a simple shower by pouring water over ourselves from a bucket, and be prepared for service. Our evening meal consisted of a slice of bread and some sort of sauce; small pieces of meat in a sauce was only allowed once a week. Sleeping was simple, you just lay down with your clothes on, upon your straw mat side by side with probably six or seven persons in a small room. In monsoon season we had mosquito nets over us. This was our daily routine.

We saw many strange sights, there were oxen trampling out corn and women winnowing out the chaff for straw baskets. Oxen drew water from deep wells with a rubber bladder made from inner tubes. There were snake charmers that were called in to eradicate the cobras from their holes; then they were put into large gunny sacks and taken on local buses to the universities to be used for their venom. I once rode in a taxi with a dead woman sitting upright next to me, with her jaw securely tied with a red ribbon. Later as we stopped by a well, I was told to wash and prepare this woman for her burial, which was in the next few hours. This of course had to be done because of the intense heat. We saw small ribbons of lights in the night as oxen teams pulled wooden 'red river carts' on their way to the markets. We saw goat herders in the desert with only a lunge (loin cloth) and their staff. The goats would climb up the branches of the acacia tree for the green leaves. We witnessed low cast Indian women running after oxen to pick up the moist dung and put it in baskets on their heads. This would then be plastered on the sides of huts like hamburger patties to dry in the sun and be sold for fire fuel. These poor women in their tattered, faded saris had no blouses underneath, no shoes on their feet. In their ears were strange earrings made of small cubicle blocks, covered in gold. because they were so heavy, the skin of the ear lobe stretched like a stirrup down to their shoulders. Then there were the sacred cows that wandered through market places and pushed over vegetable stalls, no one seeming to mind. Thousands of Hindu gods could be seen, displayed on the outsides of their temples. All of this was India, yet, we were secluded in the ashram for the next five and a half years, waiting, waiting, waiting for the return of Christ. Here we had no electricity, no telephones, no newspapers, no radio or any other communication with the outside world.

After three years, suddenly my husband arrived. Before his arrival some of Laurie's spies had informed us that he was on his way to the ashram and we were told to quickly prepare. He, of course, was shocked to see how lean we were, and the heat rash all over the children appeared as though they had some terrible disease.

We were allowed to leave for a week with him to a resort area where he attempted to talk some sense into me. I was so filled with fear that I may lose my salvation if I left, yet, everything in me cried out to leave. I was also very aware that I was being followed by two of Laurie's men, as they anticipated that my husband may try to kidnap us. Finally, I asked my dear husband to forget about me and go on and make a new life without me. He saw only how brainwashed I was, and in frustration he decided to leave. Through tearful good-byes he promised to send me airline tickets whenever I came to my senses and wanted to return to the USA. We had no money of our own, and no way to leave otherwise.

(To Be Continued)

HAZEL'S STORY - Part 1

I was blessed to be raised in a Christian home with parents that loved me. At the age of five years, Jesus Christ was very real to me and I knew He would answer even my simplest prayers. In our small village in Canada, there were only three churches. Our church had just a few families, so the bond of love was tight and comforting as I learned the stories of Jesus. At the age of thirteen, my family attended revival meetings in another town and I heard for the first time about the baptism of the Holy Spirit and the gift of speaking in tongues. I couldn't wait to be prayed for. This infilling was probably one of the most significant events of my life. The joy and encouragement of this gift has sustained me in many dark hours, and continues today.

Following graduation from nursing school I made the decision to go to the USA where there was a group of believers functioning in the gifts of the Spirit, as in the early church, and I wanted to learn more. Here I studied God's word and had time to meditate. However, after one year this group began to disintegrate as the leader left. Many of the believers were wounded aand disorientated by this experience, and my faith grew cold as well. Quickly my mind turned to other things; I returned to nursing and looked for another group of believers to fellowship with, but found none. Within a short time I met a young man in college and married him.

Now, my husband, a non practicing Catholic, did attend church with me after moving to Colorado, spiritual things were not particularly high on his radar as he was interested in getting estabished in his career. For the next two years I again was being convicted by the Holy Spirit about my lukewarm condition and repented. By this time we had moved back to Canada where my husband accepted a veterinarian position in a small farming community.

Here, I became very isolated and lonely. To establish a practice required long hours of work and many days on call. Because I felt like a wife alone, I desperately wanted fellowship and friends. I also wanted to grow spiritually. In this small community I found a group of believers studying the bible in their homes and was invited to join. How excited I was. Soon I discovered they were talking about an end time prophet named Marion Branham. This man had held large tent meetings with healings in the USA. Apparently God had given him many revelations about what was to happen before the final rapture of the Bride of Christ. Though Branham was now deceased, they were devouring his books to learn abuot the end times and the book of revelations. All of this was very stimulating to someone so hungry to learn more about the things of God. It was all so new.

Little by little I began to withdraw from things of the 'world' and prepare myself for that day. I wore long dresses and long hair, and had all the outward signs of a believer; so I believed. It was then discovered in some of his writings that he foretold of a man that would succeed him, who would come from the east and gather the Bride of Christ together in a desert area. As people were reading these books all over the world it wasn't long before someone came from India declaring that he was this person.

He began to produce his own writings that dovetailed with Branham. Many people questioned this, however, the group that I was with were convinced that this was the fulfillment of prophecy. Paulaseer Laurie then made a trip to Canada and further convinced the believers that he indeed was called by God for this purpose. He was masterful at using the book of revelations to prove his point. So it happened that after he left, two Canadian men actually made a trip to India to see where they were to take their families and test if this really was true. Upon their return, the 'believers' began to sell their houses, farms and rid themselves of all their material possessions.

We had by this time returned to the United States for my husband's job, and though I was absent from the group, I was still in contact with them and now in a personal quandary. I had two beautiful children, how could I possibly go to India and leave my husband? Yet, I was convinced that this is what I needed to do if I truly loved Christ. I felt it was a test. Did I love earthly things more than I loved to be with Christ? Therefore, my prayer was, "God, if this is of you, then make a way. I need airfare, I need my husband to agree that I take the children, and to sign their passports." My husband had noticed the changes in me, but because I was still a good wife and mother, he chose to ignore these signs. He continued to be very busy with his practice. I continued to move forward to my goal and get rid of all my earthly things, taking many trips to the Goodwill. Finally my husband said, "I don't understand this pull that you have to go to India, but I can tell you that if you are there for 1 month you will get your fill of heat, snakes and bugs, and then maybe you will be able to come home and put this foolishness behind you. So I will sign for the children's passports."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, surely this could only be from God, right? So, with my two year old daughter and three year old son, we drove to Canada to join the others that were headed to India. My husband and I said our sad good-byes; very difficult, he believing that his wife would return soon and forget all this, and me believeing that it would all soon be over and I would be raptured and all earthly sorrow behind me. It was July 1971.

DIANE'S STORY

I was raised by intellectuals who professed that God is nothing more than a human manifestation of what we can't answer for ourselves, and they both totally believed in science. They truly were the Karl Sagen generation. However, we did go to church, the Methodist Church. At the age of seven we lived right next door to a Methodist Church. The parsonage was behind it. I absolutely loved visiting the pastors wife. She was probably the first real Christian in my life.

As I grew up and became more sophisticated, and being an individual, decided to take my own path to true enlightenment. This included Baba Remdos, Metaphysics, Interpersonal Dynamics, etc.

In my 40's I realized that everything I had based my decisions on was worthless. There was a song out by Simply Red called, "Holding Back the Years". One of the lyrics went like this, "holding back the tears, because nothing had a chance to be good, because nothing ever could". It expressed the condition of my life. I had failed on every level, as a mother, wife and I felt, as a person. I was a walking cadaver. I had been married twice. My first husband deserted us. Us being my blind, autistic, retarded daughter, who was now in a group home. The second was a physically abusive, very well decorated Vietnam Vetern. My life was a shambles. Where do you turn? I felt I had no choice. Either I could continue on the same path, and expect different results or I could change my path. I thought it smarter to change my course completely, so began my seeking God.

I took courses at Portland State, in Women's Spirituality, part of the women's studies program. Some of it was great, and some I could have lived without. Especially the part about Wicca's and Witches. Because I had felt that I had known God as a child, I decided the intellectual path was the wrong way for me to seek Him. So I regressed to that very special and spiritual place that I had known Him as a child. Growing up I spent many hours in the woods. Basically I'd only return home if I was hungry or tired. I experienced God in those places with the beauty of His creation all around me. I started to talk to Him, and I had a sense that He was always with me.

As an adult I had to return to that simple understanding and faith. So I started to seek a church, a body of believers, that could help me with my journey. I went to seven different churches in one year. I settled on Living Enrichment Center. They seemed to be loving, non-judgemental, and offered a positive message, rather than negative.

Little did I know, again this was still the wrong direction. In that same yar I met Reed, in the dust of a baseball diamond watching my then eight year old son play ball. Reed had a special quality about him. He also had some very strange relationships. There was obviously his son, (also on the baseball team) but the mother of the same son, and she with her new husband, and they all seemed to be friends.

Now, I had been through divorce , and it was anything but friendly. So at one of the games Reed and I ended up talking. We shared the devastation that divorce had caused in our lives. To make a long story short, one day he left tracts on my coffee table. I wish I still had them, so I could know exactly what it said, but it spoke to me about a lifetime of hurt, turned into good. It gave me the best promises I'd ever heard in my life. So on July 12th, 1989, all by myself, I gave my life to Christ. It was so personal I really didn't want to make it a public display, however, I don't judge the people who go up when there is an alter call. I absolutely love Billy Graham. I was there as a Chrristian in Portland, Oregon when he was at the Beavers stadium. It was awesome! So many souls saved.

Back to the saving of my soul, and to make another long story short, I married the man that led me to Christ. Reed also led me to what was the most perfect church for me as a new Christian to worship. The very first biblestudy I attended in that church was the study of the book of Acts.

My life has been anything but a walk in the park since becoming a Christ Believer. The one common thread however, is I'm no longer alone, and I'm learning to more and more just relax in His loving care. After being married for 10 years to Reed, one Saturday afternoon in April 1999, he collapsed with a brain aneurysm. He never recovered. There was too much brain damage. I was left with a huge financial mess, and three fully grown step children that felt they deserved more than what they were getting. I had to downsize big time, just to live.

I sold our big beautiful house in West Slope, and moved to the acreage we had planned on retiring to. It had a single wide trailer. God was still ever faithful. He had put circumstances together so that at this very time, I had Susannah living with me. She was a devote Christian young lady from China. She and I held each other up. She was my helpmate, friend and daughter.

Three weeks after burying my husband, I was in the hospital with thyroide cancer. Susannah made it possibnle for me to get through it. Not even my own children could have done what she did for me. We moved to the farm and she started school at Western Seminary, where she met her now husband. At her engagement party we had at the farm, she introduced me to one of her fellow classmates who had recently lost his wife. I told him if he needed someone to talk to, I was available, having lost my husband 10 months before. He ended up taking me up on my offer, and helped me gravel my road, and came out for dinner once in awhile.

Then in March, at a women's retreat, I was looking into the mirror of a brightly lit bathroom, and I noticed a little wrinkle in my breast. I felt it, and discovered in the deep tissue was a lump. I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It turned out to be stage II, which meant I would need to have either a mastectomy or a lumpectomy, chemo and radiation. I had said I would never remarry when I lost Reed. It was just too hard to learn to live with another person, let alone the opposite sex. However, my heart was totally melted by this wonderful Godly man that Susannah had brought into my life. I felt I could trust him no matter what...but how could he commit to me now? I had cancer, and he had lost the love of his life to cancer already, why would he take the chance on another? But he did. We went through it together. My husband and his sons gave me my life back. I believe, had it not been for them, I never would have gone through this battle with cancer. So, for that first year as a new family, we took the time to grieve the loss of both Reed and Lydia.

I am now eight years out from cancer, and no sign of it returning. Chris who was 5 when he came into my life is now 13 years old and thriving. When we got married, English was Chris' second language, but since I was dyslexic, I understood his struggles. I spent many hours playing mama bear, with him on my lap reading together. He is now a 4. student.

My husband is a chaplain at St. Vincent Hospital, the very place we both lost our partners. God really can and does take very bleak situations and turn them into good, if we remain faithful to Him.