Like many other people, I was upset and kind of numb last Thursday morning when I heard what happened at Mother Emanuel AME church in Charleston, South Carolina. I heard a lot of people talking about being surprised and shocked. I wasn’t numb because of shock. That wasn’t it. You see…not much shocks me because I know just how busy the devil and his human workers are. I spend most of my day praying & working against the wiles of the devil.
I walked around with a kind of heaviness in my spirit. God revealed a few days later that my numbness was a kind of defense mechanism. He used “numbness” as a way to give me a few days to properly process the events in my spirit. The Heavenly Father has given me a very elevated gift of discernment. He knew that if he had let me process the nine (9) deaths, without tuning down my physical reaction, that I may have blown a gasket. I struggle, as it is, with controlling my temper when I’m fighting “evil.” I have such a warrior spirit that I want to crush evil anywhere that I find it. That’s not always the right or proper initial response. Why? Because, sometimes my crushing evil entails my heart wanting to “kill” somebody. I have to really pray and ask God to take that anger out of my heart. Sometimes, as I pray that prayer, tears just stream down my face. It just hurts so, so, so bad when I keep seeing the devil take out my Father’s children ahead of their time. I know everyone wants to believe that when someone, who believes in God, dies that it is always the exact time God originally intended them to die. That is simply not the case in most circumstances. The devil is a thief, and he can also steal away the time that God’s children are suppose to be here on earth doing God’s work.
When the numbness in my spirit started wearing off, it was replaced by a heaviness. A kind of weighing down like I was carrying 300 lbs on my little back. I couldn’t shake it. Over this past weekend, I slept enough so that I was very well rested. Despite this… I still felt so tired. I was dragging. My spirit felt so tired that it transferred into a physical tiredness. I hope you can understand what I am trying to convey. I believe that I could have slept 20 hours in a 24 hour period and it would not have made a bit of difference in how I felt. My spirit was simply weighed down and tired. Simply weighed down and tired. A tired that just comes from suffering such a loss that the spirit is trying to acclimate itself to it.
Now… I never physically met any of the people who passed away. But you see…God had met them. And, because I am His child, who resides in Him and He in me…He showed me that these people were also His children. I was crushed…again. More gone. You see… in a dark, dark world… every loss of one of my Godly siblings just breaks my heart. The beautiful smiles that I had seen from their photographs flashed so vividly in my head and my heart. This was not one…but nine, at one time… of my Christian brothers and sisters.
I truly realized how much of a loss I felt when I woke up this past Sunday morning. You know how when you first wake up… your a little groggy. The very first thought was no, no. Then, I said, yes. It did happen & it is real. It was not a nightmare that I could dismiss. It was the first thing… that was on my mind when I opened my eyes. I knew then, how much God had revealed their spirits to me. You see… I didn’t have to meet them in order to love them.
If you have felt or continue to feel any of the ways I have, then I pray that God brings you peace. I pray that the Holy Spirit comes and comforts you. It is only when I recognized, by God’s revelations, how deeply I was impacted by the passing of these children of God, that I was able to receive some peace. Trying to keep busy doesn’t help. It just delays and causes a kind of build-up. We must deal with our anger, our sadness, and our upset. Please recognize and deal with these kind of feelings. Carry them and leave them at the feet of God. In Psalm 55 verse 22, we are told to “Cast thy burden upon the LORD, and He shall sustain thee…”
Iris R. Whiting ©