Category: My Testimony

My Testimony of Enduring Hope

[I wrote this a while back, before my time in the psychiatric ward. I have edited it somewhat before posting here.]


I shared on another blog my Testimony of Pain. I do not feel proud about sharing that, nor of the feelings I had when I wrote it. My Lord Jesus Christ told me that if a man sets his hand to the plough and then looks back he is unworthy of his Lord. I did need to pray regarding my looking back at that pain as written in the midst of it, because it brought back that pain in a way which my Lord has advised me that I should not be so foolish so as to do.

Yet I did look back. And so, if Jesus’s words are indeed True – and He is the Way, the Truth and the Life and cannot lie – then I am unworthy of Him, even now. But I did not seek Him nor choose to follow Him because I thought I was worthy of Him, but because I knew I wasn’t. And that has not changed, and neither has His eternal love for me. Yet sharing that Testimony of Pain was necessary for you.

Why did my mother conceive me, carry me to full term and then push me out of her womb? I do not know. Why did I make so many mistakes, commit so many sins, that I could not bear to see myself in the mirror? I do not know. Why did I go insane for twenty five years? I do not fully know. Why did my Nan’s heart pills not kill me? I do not know. Why did I consider my money better spent on several pints rather than buying a new belt before trying to hang myself on a tree? I do not know.

But now? I know that my Lord died for me. And I know He did it because He loves me, and has loved me since before the creation of the world. And I know that I am exceeding glad. I am grateful that he ensured, however he may have performed it, that I did not leave this Earth before I had found Him, not in word or in trying to follow a preacher or a particular church or faith, but find HIM. And now I have found Him, I love Him. And I thank Him that I have come to love Him because He first loved me.

I have joy immeasurable in my heart. Yet I still mourn, and mourn greatly. Yet now I mourn truly and no longer self-piteously. Yes, if I am honest sometimes I mourn for myself, too, but mostly I mourn because my Jesus has not broken His word to me yet and so I know He will keep true to His word in these present, perilous, last days of the last days (as I believe). After all, He is the Way, the Truth and the Life and He cannot break His word. Yet the mourning does not diminish the joy one jot, because I know that blessèd are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

This my my Testimony, and the Power of the Testimony of the saints shall be in large degree the Power which overthrows the wicked ruler of this age, though it is the Blood of the Lamb which is the means by which forgiveness for sin and the salvation in Christ is gained.

And I am not wise. For if I were I would have learnt my lessons as a child and not as an ageing man. Yet I know enough to know that wicked ruler is not pleased with what I now do. And so, knowing that his time is short, he will attack all those he sees who resist and reject his evil ways. And I cannot hope to be exempt from his attention. Yet I trust that Christ is able to keep me.

Yet I count as joy my portion in the sufferings of Christ, for:

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside the still waters, He restores my soul, He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, For You are with me, Your rod, and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of mine enemies, Thou annoint my head with oil, My cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, And I shall dwell in the House of the Lord, Forever.
Psalm 23

My Testimony of Confusion – Part 2

[This is Part 2 of a two-part series of testimonies on my confusions and the sources of my delusions – Part One can be read here – and in this post I cover the source of my hope: Jesus Christ.]

My journey since recommitting my life to Christ as my Saviour has been a very difficult and strange one. Reluctant to truly follow Jesus Christ as my Lord even though I accepted Him as my Saviour I did, as I look back, end up a wayward lamb increasingly taken in by and deceived by the world.
In many ways I did accept Jesus as my Lord. I knew He is Lord. I now know He is Lord to a whole new depth. What I didn’t do before was act like Jesus was my Lord in the little things. I could make big declarations, big statements of faith, major vows etc. But to actually love my neighbour? To actually deny myself? That seemed too much.

Into Mystery Babylon

I am going to use some Biblical terms in this post. Please, please be aware that I am not making any theological statements as to these terms. I am using these terms as I have understood them as I have journeyed, and am still journeying, out of the deception into which I so grievously fell. I am using the terms as they play a part in my “delusions” and not as a Biblical teaching.

One of the terms I will use is that of Babylon, mentioned in the Revelation of St. John the Divine. It has seemed to me that I have been lost in this labyrinth of Mystery. The music, philosophies, drugs (which I now believe were sorceries) and the worshipping of angels and false gods, have taken their toll and had left me in a perilous state.

Yet Jesus is faithful and I truly believe that He has remembered me; has left the ninety-nine and come to find me and bring me back into the fold. I have been unfaithful, but He remains faithful.

The music has been haunting me – literally! The rap lyrics and other music words have resurfaced in my mind and played on my worst fears. Eminem made me scared to eat spaghetti, my Mum’s favourite meal. The Levellers confused me about apples and Snow White. (I now eat apples again, which I stopped doing due to a “word” I thought I had received, but I honestly don’t like spaghetti so will only eat it if its given to me.)

The sexual sins haunt me. I am tempted to commit filthiness now and again. I feel like a man who has been trapped by a seductress. Yet I resist and am usually victorious in that by the grace of God.

In recent years I have enquired into subjects I had no business enquiring into. Matters of the Illuminati, matters of the world religions, matters of the so-called Pleiadians and Annunaki, matters of the Gnostic religion.

Confusion took hold until I doubted the truth of the Bible. Yet somehow Jesus kept me believing in Him and in His Father, God Himself. Sometimes I have thought of myself as a false prophet teaching error.

The alcohol and drugs have ravaged me mentally, emotionally and physically. I now sincerely believe the synthetic drugs – and all the works of pharmaceutica – to be sorcery. Please note what I said previously: I am not teaching this as Biblical truth. I am giving my testimony of my delusions and confusions. But what I do know is that for me to willingly seek out medication would be against my conscience and against my faith and thus, for me, it would be sin and I would condemn myself even more. I take the agreed dose and do not seek to increase it. I am slowly intending on reducing it and eventually stopping the medication altogether in the Lord’s timing.

I have few comforts the world likes to indulge in; secular music is a no-go area for me. I don’t watch TV or YouTube videos. I don’t listen to radio. Pubs, clubs and shopping centres usually give me the creeps. I don’t drink any alcohol now. Drugs, whether prescribed or illegal, are against my faith.

Marriage is something I don’t need and so choose not to seek and certainly a relationship with a woman with no view to marriage would be sinful to me. Even such things as chocolate I am wary of due to my addictive personality.

So? What’s left? I have Jesus, and He should be sufficient, yet I also must be honest and say I smoke tobacco. I do not regard it as sinful. It is a plant. I like plants – I have two houseplants at home. I drink tea and coffee. No, I do not object to plants. The world tells me smoking is dangerous and yes, I cough. The medication actually makes my cough worse and of the two (tobacco and medication) I prefer to cease the medication before dealing with the tobacco.

Coming off psychiatric medication and dealing with the issues I deal with I cannot face quitting smoking right now, and so, though I have prayed for an end to my smoking at some point, for me right now it is not sinful. I do, however, seek to walk in love and not smoke in front of those who are offended by it, meaning if I have visitors at my flat I go outside or if I am at church I take myself off the church grounds.

The Hope Which Endures

In 1 Corinthians 13 the Apostle Paul states:

Now abide these three: faith, hope, love. And the greatest of these is love.

I am in many ways deranged, unstable and trapped by a number of delusions. Yet all that is changing. The verse I have just shared has been a comfort to me. I have clung on to hope. I have kept faith when I have not been able to see my faith. I have done my best to love even when so confused I can’t always demonstrate it.

And where does this faith, this hope, this love come from? None come from me. Of myself I am incapable of having faith, incapable of hoping against hope; incapable of loving. Faith, hope and love abide in Jesus Christ, the Lord and Saviour. And so, when everything seems lost I cling to Him.

I am still here on this journey. Will I come through and out the other side? I do not know. The odds are stacked against me. “But if God be for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31b) And so I shall continue to trust in my Lord who loved me so much He gave Himself upon the cross and bore all of my sin and iniquity there. “We love Him because He first loved us.” (1 John 4:19)

So whatever happens, my life is in the hands of Jesus Christ my Lord and Saviour, and I shall endeavour to my utmost to deny myself and follow Him as I bear this cross of my many delusions, fears and mental turmoils which have come through my life.

[NOTES: This was written many months ago. Some things have now changed. Notably I listen to certain secular music again for the purposes of healing, knowledge and demon-fighting. Also, I now drink moderate amounts of alcohol. My faith has broadened. My hope become more sure, and my love more profound.]

Testimony of Confusion – Part I

[This was written some time ago and the healing has been slow and tough. Now I am largely recovered yet my responsibilities are now very great as a healer, child protector and church ambassador.]

I am what is termed “mentally ill.” Personally I prefer the term of myself having a mental disorder. The term mentally ill can be a judgemental label and one which, though usually used innocently, can bring connotations of being a condition of someone of less worth than someone who is “totally sane.” Yet a mental disorder is experienced by everyone to one degree or another.

The Eastern Orthodox Church recognises this and classes very few people as “sane.” In fact, sanity is really regarded as the preserve of the Saints and excluded to almost everyone else by reason of our sinfulness and the weakness of our flesh.

Yet it is true that some of us experience these disorders more wildly and with greater ferocity than others and so the world has labelled us – and we label ourselves, too – as “ill.”

Confusion as a Lifestyle

I am confused at times. This is my testimony of a little about how I became confused and how I entered into a lifestyle choice of confusion.
I have always believed in the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ except for a brief period just before and then throughout my teenage years.
Yet there were early influences which fed into the confusion: violence at home, including sexual violence, and then, once retreat had been made to my maternal grandparents a rather blessed childhood even if we as children were rather mollycoddled.

When my great grandmother died my great grandfather, “Grandpa Ralph,” came to live with us. We bought a big house with the proceeds from two houses and had many a happy day there. I was developing some sexual sins, though, which weighed heavy on me and I was disillusioned with school and my fellow schoolmates.

I would discover often in the morning that I ad a tummy ache and so would stay home from school to watch telly (Dangermouse, The Frumps etc.) and would write stories and draw maps like my hero J.R.R. Tolkien did.

The Freemasonry Link

There is another important aspect to my childhood: the link to Freemasonry. Grandpa Ralph was a member of the Freemasons. In my confusions the past year I have thought he made it to the Level 3 Freemason (similar to a level 3 mage in The Gathering, but real and with real-world influence) but all that level 3 business was probably just in my mind. My grandpa’s main concern was the socialising. He was also a member of the local church, an Anglican Church (as far as I am aware the Anglicans are the only denomination of the Christian faith which allows simultaneous membership of the Freemasons.)

In addition he was a journalist, and taught me how the textbooks could not always be trusted. He was one who actually tried to discipline me but I ran to Mummy who told him off (I was about 12 years old then, at a guess, maybe younger.)

Yet one story I have been told by my Nan later has stuck with me. It was about a time when Grandpa Ralph came home disturbed from a Masonic Meeting. He was silent and withdrawn. Later my Nan found him throwing away a shirt and asked him why. He told her.

A ritual had been performed at the Masonic Meal. I won’t go into detail as it has disturbed him, my Nan and myself and that disturbance has to stop somewhere, but this is the essence of it: It was a mockery of God’s word and God’s law.

The Greater Part of my Confusion

My real confusion began in the 90s. Despite having a minor breakdown around the age of 14 I started to dabble in drugs at 17. First cannabis, then I moved on to magic mushrooms and LSD. Then Ecstasy (MDMA).
I became heavily involved in the scene of festivals, nightclubs, all-nighters and the philosophy and music of the 60s, 70s and 90s. Heady stuff. Dangerous stuff.

Confusion hit fully when I was 20. I was admitted to hospital, officially voluntarily – though I felt I had no choice other than to comply – and was put on medication. And thus began an adulthood of insanity to one degree or another. The pills and injections calmed my mind and they helped me survive, but the sins which plagued me – drink, sexual sins, rebellion – were not assuaged at all but rather I now felt little guilt or any fear.

The Journey Out of Confusion

I am now 45 years old. I kept returning to the street drugs and would periodically come off my medication and go crazy on drugs and old ways. This even after I had recommitted my life to Jesus Christ when I was about 22 years old. The medication prevented my feeling of guilt and my fear of God, so why not take the drugs and listen to that old music?

I am now, I believe, on a journey out of this confusion. I shall write about that, along with the dangerous slide into heresies and damnable doctrines, in Part Two of this Testimony of Confusion.

A Hard Day’s Work

Being mentally ill is a hard and dangerous journey.

I do not have the time to relate all that I have been up to this past day – or rather, I have much time but need to be resting and continuing my Bible study. At this present time I am having my stolen dinner 😉 and my borrowed chariot ( https://open.spotify.com/track/2jwQd3JoZk4obcyI18lMY9?si=jE1ylixPR92idPBMyeJp3Q ).

The journey this past day has been full of light and blessing. I received some hard discipline from dear brothers at church yesterday, both in the morning and evening. I am unsure if they realised how hard ot was or how fruitful it may prove to be. Who can truly know but God Himself? As for me I remember my prayer at the beginning of this journey: “As for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.”

Mental Illness and Fasting

Yet I suffer from a profound mental disorder. I began an Advent fast according in time to the Anglican calendar but according to strictness closer to a mix of Ethiopian Tewahedo and my own fleshly desires. According to the Eastern Orthodox teaching, the mentally ill are not only warned against the practice of fasting but are also usually precluded (forbidden) from doing so. During my period of Advent fast I spent much time in the psychiatric ward, and the resulting drunkeness on food, distressed souls I sought to help and the holiness of God within me caused great harm to those ill-equipped to cope. Yet my continuing hope, along with an intermittant faith and a love no-one really quite “gets” keeps me going. In short, I depend upon God; Father, Son and Holy Spirit and at times only brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, friends and allies are able to provide for my most basic and vital spiritual and bodily necessities.

The Struggle Within and the Struggle Without

What is your own struggle? Is it to maintain a faith amongst the righteous when you are a sinner? Is it to cope with a self-righteousness which only a brother can nail down rightly? Is it to cope with an indwelling sin or the sins which others have placed upon you? As the Apostle Paul says: “We have been crucified with Christ.”

In his book Slave by John MacArthur he writes:

Slaves of Christ are to be “always abounding in the work of the Lord” (1 Cor 15:58), “trying to learn what is pleasing to the Lord” (Eph 5:10), and ever seeking to understand what the will of the Lord is” (Eph 5:17).

Slave by John MacArthur. Copyright 2010. Published by Thomas Nelson

The mentally disturbed can rightly be called slaves of Christ if they routinely confess their sins, seek to “fight the good fight of faith” and remain in fellowship with the brethren within the Church. Yet it is a battle. A huge battle.

Advice, Hope and Limitations Learnt

I was advised by a dear brother and sister yesterday about being careful about what I post online. I have now largely abandoned Twitter and abandoned YouTube, radio and television some time ago due to the temptations and false teachings they brought. Yet I know others can find comfort in those things. So who can truly judge? God, and He alone.

I spent some of the afternoon of Monday with some very ill people. There was a disabled person, some Down’s Syndrome people, some with learning disabilities and some I discerned were truly possessed by demons. Yet there were saints with me, in uniforms and out. Not all who belong to Christ confess Him openly. Some live in catacombs of the shadows. And that is the role of the mentally disturbed people of Christ.

Holiness and the Winding River of Mental Ill Health

We are, according to Jesus Christ Himself and the writings of many – though far from all – of the historical saints, called to live lives to holiness and undefiled purity. This is acheived through the Cross of Christ, yet, as a brother evangelist told me, sometimes this is an up then a down and sometimes a down then an up.

Sometimes for those with ceratin conditions the road is far more narrow and winding: a great river or a narrow stream; one which flows out into the Oceans of Faith rather than leading upstream to the pleasurable springs of pure refreshment. Remember that the rivers and streams and seas were not always as polluted as they are now and the rivers and oceans of the true Faith shall never be full of dead fish and bones but that even the sea shall give up her dead.

The ill, the demonic and the saints I had to leave be. I spoke words of confession to a friend and servant, words of comfort (I hope) to an employee and made and offer to give low paid casual labour in return for their kind shelter they have been and I hope shall continue to offer me.

And I met two true brothers this past day. One openly. One a beautiful surprise which prompted me to remember the poor I had been forced to pass by whilst in town earlier.

To Conclude

I end my day of work greatly blessed, still hungry, still drinking water, tea and coffee and still smoking tobacco (though less now that was the case yesterday). And so, with my confessions and, I hope and pray, my encouragements done, I shall now seek to continue my Bible study.

The Situation with Myself

As I am writing this I have come to use internet access which does not belong to me. It is my sincere hope that the hackers, of which I am aware, will understand my motives and, as I am convinced is the case, my history both of mental illness and severe difficulties with gross sin.

As an initial return to A Heart of Flesh, therefore, I desire to offer apology of sort. Final judgement belongs to God, but my intention all along has been to comfort the mentally distressed, provide help and prayer where possible, and introduce those who are able to receive the glorious news and knowledge of salvation in Jesus Christ the Risen Lord.

I had started to exalt myself in my heart, again, and, professing to have a strong wisdom, I became like unto a fool. Due to certain other hackers and criminals, as I suspect though sure evidence is scant, my telephone, personal communications and personal internet access has been cut off. This is the justice yet also the mercy of God. “All things work together for the good of those who love the Lord and are the called according to His purpose.”

I cannot post much here. My words need to now be few. My other websites may or may not continue, depending upon the will of the Lord and my continued survival both spiritually and physically.

My stories are my perspective, not to be taken as court of law statement nor as spiritual truth. My Twitter feed does still survive as at last look.

I have since come to realise that three sets of hackers accessed my sites.

  1. Friends, known collectively as Anonymous.
  2. Chinese agents seeking to develop synthetic drugs from my herbal remedies.
  3. Governmental agencies who see me as a threat to the status quo.

My Christmas

Christmas was very difficult for me.

I travelled down to Dorset on Christmas Eve with my Nan and uncle (who was driving) to visit my brother and family. An intense time of trial ensued, culminating in my freaking out during the evening of Christmas Day. I am not proud of that, and I now owe my brother a new door as I headbutted it intending to release my pain through self-harm (sadly the door was cheap and broke rather than giving me the desired bruising.)

The Blessings

There were many blessings, including a game of Ludo on Christmas Eve which we agreed was the best game of Ludo EVER! (I had a huge giggle fit thanks to my niece which required the first of two “halftimes” in the epic game.)

Gift giving was also a huge blessing, especially being able to bless my niece with a beautiful painting I had bought.

The Devil Was Present

I explored the garden and surrounding area a little and it is a dark place.

My brother’s rented property has a hideous graven image of the Devil by the back door. It didn’t disturb me too much but explains well the haunting my brother and his wife told me about in the house. Spiritual warfare ensued most fiercely.

In Summation

I intend on visiting my brother again, mainly because I want to have Christian input into my niece. She suffers from mental health issues including demonic oppression.

I do not think, however, that I can celebrate Christmas with my family anymore. The majority of them pay either no regard or are openly hostile towards Christ.




Testimonies – My Testimony

“For we know in part.”

I am not yet fully awake, yet I start writing this testimony of testimonies now. It may take me some time to finish it and I want to edit it minimally, so will now write only a few thoughts.

We all know a part of our friends and family. In fact, we only remember a part of our own journeys. The mind edits and only remembers parts, and of that of our friends we see things but cannot be fully sure that our testimony of them is one hundred percent true.

I have shared things on this blog and my Twitter feed about myself and others. It has been shared with sincerity and faith, hope and love. Yet who can say for sure if it is true? God knows, as the old saying goes, and that saying is true: God does know!

My own testimony is true. That of others is through knowledge and observation. My testimony is true, unless I indeed be a liar and a deceiver.

Life on a Mental Ward for a True Believer

A mental ward is like hell for a believer. On my ward there are two true believers of faith: myself and a Muslim man from Egypt. We both struggle enormously. We are both coping well, despite the intense persecution we face there.

On a mental health ward such as mine the Gospel is forbidden to be preached openly. I have shared the Gospel as I am able. I have told, gently but firmly, a homosexual that sodomy is sinful. I have been severely rebuked for that with implicit threats that this may lengthen my incarceration.

There is a man, going by the name of Paul, who deceives the patients. He shares a “gospel” based on “science” and a hypnotic methodology. So I knocked over his coffee and stubbed a cigarette out on his tweed jacket, for few see him as he truly is: a wolf in sheep’s clothing who has abandoned his wife to deceive patients and others through his recording and playback devices. He returned my acts with acts of violence, including a punch to the head. I responded by quietly walking off.

Preaching the Gospel and Fulfilling the Roles

On my mental health ward few Christians visit. There is no visit from a Christian chaplain. No apostles come – except for one of the Apostolic Succession who occasionally and graciously visits me. No prophets true come. No evangelists come. There are no true teachers and pastors.

I have attempted to fulfil all these roles whilst at the ward. I have had no other option.

I have preached the Gospel, even to a seagull for we are told in the last chapter of Mark to “preach this gospel to every creature.” I have preached the Gospel as I am able to a person held in solitary in 136 (let the mental health patients understand.) I have encouraged JH, rebuked Ragi, warned many, comforted some, helped an old lady to the door, tried to wean women off cigarettes. I have told unrepentant sinners they are not welcome near me.

I am in many respects like King Arthur according to an Irish legend: the man who burnt his cakes. Yet I am not King Arthur. I have come as a thief in the night, yet I am not Jesus. I have judged to extreme, yet I am not God.

What shall my reward be? Punishment eternal? Or life most blesséd? Only God can judge, but see this post on my rebellion against the mental health system before you yourselves make judgement upon me.

Why I am at the Mental Health Ward

I went to the ward voluntarily. I asked to be admitted. The community team sent me to the crisis team. I kept my appointments. I once waited in the hospital grounds overnight to ensure I kept an appointment. I reported to A&E. I was beaten, bruised and had my clothes torn. I was told to leave. I left.

Later I was asked politely to to accompany some police officers to a mental ward in Hastings, I went, peacefully and quietly. They would have refused to take me if there was any danger of me being placed on Section under the Mental Health Act. They did their job well. And as soon as they had left I was placed on Section 2 of the Mental Health Act and violently and forcibly injected with a strange chemical.

I feel my rebellion is justified in the sight of God. And now, as I write on overnight leave, I want to cry.

Thank you for reading. Please pray.

Time Under the Ward – Overnight Leaves

Last night I had my first overnight leave since the beginning of my third 2018 time under the ward. It has been a blessing and I am now having my second overnight leave.

Adjusting takes time, even when the “insanity” which the doctors have prescribed has not been taken by the patient.

Last night I listened to Saga by Adrian Von Ziegler – a heavy and dark album of Norse lore. It troubled me yet it enabled me to take my meal of pork and vegetables well with much thanksgiving; the first dinner I have had at home since the detention under the unjust mental health detention system in place.

Image credit: https://pixabay.com/en/christmas-candle-red-green-flame-1125147/

Sleep went well, one of the earliest nights I have had. I had also listened to the Carols from a recording from King’s College, Cambridge and read the evening’s Song of Degrees.

The morning brought much joy with a time of praise unto my God with an African Children’s Choir as the backing to my offering of praise.

My Return to the Ward

I was required to return to the ward, which I did. I was blessed there with a coffee with my brother JH and the lady he is courting. For the purposes of this blog I will refer to her as Jessie James. Please pray for them: they will need much prayer and hopefully I can provide support, teaching and love after discharge.

I also was blessed by a hug, kiss and cup of tea from the one I have chosen to wife in a spiritual sense without any carnal knowledge being involved.

Thanks be to God this Advent of 2018!

My Third 2018 Time Under the Ward

At this present time my mission field is the Department of Psychiatry at the hospital. I am rebelling against modern medicine and am being medicated against my will.

Image credit: https://pixabay.com/en/bridge-japanese-garden-arch-park-53769/

I am also a judgemental person and I am judging whether people are worthy to receive the message I bring or not. I have brothers and sisters, I have my family according to the flesh and according to love, I have friends and I have allies. I also have many enemies.

I want to tell you a little of those I still hold out hope for. I will endeavour to do so in this post over the course of this evening of writing.

JH.

JH is my main love amongst the men here who are patients. He has met with me twice in the spiritual room in which we shared a little of our spiritual journeys and I shared two Scripture passages with – first Psalm 5 and second 1 Corinthians 13.

He has rejected me since as a “loony” and a madman. I still hold out hope. Tonight I advised him to read Psalm 23.

Please pray.

L.

A man with anger in his heart and one who gives me far more honour than I’m due. Yet a man of honour and respect. He has done me a great kindness in defending me against a false prophet who was attacking me physically.

He needs prayer, as do I, for He tries to give honour to men rather than to the Lord.

Ragi.

A Muslim. Please pray for him. He is an honourable, physically sick man of faith held in detention where very few understand his faith in God, the One he names as Allah.

He struggles with anger. Please pray that the Lord will have great mercy.

Dean.

A young man. Fearful to approach me and one I feared to approach.

He was fearful he was beyond salvation due to his failed attempts to follow Christ in the past.

I spoke to him tonight. He confessed to God and cried for mercy. I said Amen.

Please pray especially for him, brothers and sisters.

I will attempt to tell a little of the stories of the women shortly, yet the night is not a good time for me to relate about them.

Where I am now at.

I am now an inpatient at the DOP. I have a room of my own, which was one of my vital requirements for voluntary admission. I thank God for this.

I have access to the outside world on occasion. This morning I was permitted to visit the Secret Garden and I found the hidden shrine. I made no offering to it nor to the two women who are dedicated to it. I may explain more in a future post.

Psychiatric Ward Art
Image credit: https://pixabay.com/en/art-therapy-therapeutic-discipline-230045/

Provisions

My provisions are running low. Tobacco is now not in my possession yet supplies come as required.

Music and spiritual songs available as necessary though I am dependent on kind free gifts in order to listen.

Works done

Today I have attacked a false prophet. I had met him before and informed him he was a deceitful man. He continues in his old games.

I have met a potential new member of the household of faith. Please pray for Anna (Head) and her boyfriend.

Friends continue to be here. Allies still, at present, help.

I met one man whom I ask for much prayer for. I read to him Psalm 5. I heard his confession. As I am not of the apostolic succession I am not able to give absolution.

Visits

I have received no visitors. I am not allowed out on my own.

Unlikely that I will be able to assemble with the brethren tomorrow.

Prayer requests

Wisdom and discretion needed.

Protection and increasing faith for my friend Jo, my potential sister Anna and also for me.

Pray also for the staff here, especially for those who truly care, protect and provide what is good, necessary or convenient.