Phil,

I needed to read this so much you have no idea. And neither did I. I'll write more and briefly explain. But for now, just expressing grateful thanks.

Vicki


----- Original Message -----
From: Phil Scovell  <[log in to unmask]>
To: [log in to unmask]
Date: Friday, June 17, 2016 3:01 pm
Subject: Morphed lies

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> 	Although I've written parts of this before, I wanted to show how personally interested our Heavenly Father is concerning the small things of daily life relating to His Own children.
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> 	It has been some time now since our first African Gray Parrot died unexpectedly.   At least a hundred times  since his death, pictures, like  snapshots , would flash into my mind.  I felt grief each time.  Why?  That's what I kept asking the Lord; why.  My question had a superficial answer but it wasn't fulfilling or satisfying to say the least.  In short, the memory was acutely painful.
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> 	Upon thinking about it one day, I told myself it was nothing more than an accident and besides, that same week of his death, the Lord provided us with Beaky, our current African Gray, who was still a baby at just three months of age when we brought him home.  Furthermore, the Lord provided the money to buy Beaky that same week as well.  "Aren't these good enough reasons to be happy?"  Additionally, Beaky talks and learns more, and faster, than Chester ever did and we had Chester for twelve years.  All these reasons were solid and valid and logical  to justify my thinking.   I would accept them for what they were and tried not to think about Chester.  Have you ever been told when something bad has happened, just don't think about it any more?  I have and it doesn't work.
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> 	At the school for the blind, my first day there, I    carried my Braille books, which I had not learned to read as of yet, and my heavy metal Braillewriter up to the second floor of the dorm.  I had just learned that morning how to get from the school office, down the hall and through the breezeway connecting the school to the dormitory, passing the dining room, passed  several additional doorways until I came to the door that led to the upstairs dorms.  Two students lived in one room with a connecting bathroom   to another room on the other side.  So four people shared the bathroom and shower, not all at the same time, mind you, but that goes without saying, so I won't say it.
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> 	Putting my books and Braillewriter on my desk, I sat down in the chair, put my head in my hands, and began to cry.  I was homesick and I'd never get over it.  It would be an hour before the other kids were out of class so I was alone.  "Good!  I could cry as long as I wished."
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> 	The dorm mother touched my shoulder and tried talking to me.  When that did not work, she took me out to the family area of the dorm and showed me the tables and chairs and television and couches and the bookshelves.  She said that I just needed to keep my mind occupied and eventually the homesickness would go away.  She was wrong.  I learned later, prayer, very specific prayer,, made by my mother,  made it go away.  So I am not going to tell you that your emotional pain or your emotional  woundedness is going to disappear by keeping your mind busy.  Activity helps but healing is what we want; not a temporary spiritual bandaid.
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> 	Since	 2002, when I was 50 years old, I have been healed in literally hundreds of places.  I have prayed with people that had tens of thousands of painful memories for which they needed healing.  How do I know?  Lies easily morph into other lies.  Sometimes the lies have nothing to do with each other except the emotional pain which gets transferred from one lie to another.  Sometimes the Lord heals one lie and then the Holy Spirit takes us through a healing path and heals each place of woundedness as they are uncovered by the Lord.  Other times, broken and bruised memories are healed in large groups when just a single lie is found.  This is how the worst case, or even the most evil case, of brokenness can be miraculously healed collectively across many wounded events.
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> 	Let me show you how it worked with the loss of Chester; our first African Gray Parrot who died suddenly and unexpectedly one day.
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> 	I was at the computer when I heard this horrible sound coming from the living room.  Sandy began screaming for help at the same time.  I jumped up but with the nerve damage in my legs and feet, and the pain in my back, I can only move so fast.  I tried to hurry but I knew I wasn't going to make it in time; no one would ever make it in time.  I stumbled in my haste up the four steps from my office into our kitchen.  Right behind me came our oldest grandson, then an older teenager, saying, "Grandpa!  Step aside and let me by you."  I wanted to get their first, I don't know why, I just did, so I didn't move aside but pushed forward.  My grandson repeated himself and this time, I stepped out of his way and he ran passed me into the living room.  All our little dogs were barking wildly.  I realized Chester had most likely gotten out of the cage somehow.  It had happened once before but nothing came of it.  That first time he got loose, I just bent down, held out my hand, and said, "Chester?  Step up."  He jumped on my hand and I lifted him into the cage.  Furthermore, Chester was used to being out each day.  We would put the dogs up and let Chester out of his cage so he could play around on top of his cage or could get down and walk around the house without fear of being bothered.  He often climbed up my leg and up my shirt and would stand on my shoulder until, when lunch was over, I'd put him back in his cage.  How could we find him once he got out of his cage?  He always made a clicking sound with his beak to let us know where he was.  It was like he knew we couldn't see where he was so he clicked his beak and made a simple tapping sound to let us know not to step on him.
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> 	In my memory, each time it would appear in my mind, I would remember trying to hurry up the stairs and my grandson trying to get me to step aside so he could get there faster.  This is were the sadness of my memories would begin.  By the time I got into the living room, my grandson had picked up the broken body of my parrot and placed him in the bottom of the cage.  The dogs had just all come running in from being outdoors and had attacked Chester.  My grandson told me Chester was in the bottom of the cage so I went to hold him.  He was laying on his back.  I stuck my finger in his  beak to let him know I was there for him and seconds later, he went limp and rolled his head away from my finger; dead.  Minutes later, my youngest song dug a whole for him in our backyard and putting him in, we added Chester's favorite toy and buried him.  My lower back had been hurting so severely, I could hardly walk so it wasn't easy trying to get into our backyard but I pushed myself to do it.  The Enemy tried telling me, "You will never have another bird, You will never have enough money for one again, and you should have been there to save him."  Of course, these were lies but the Enemy always tries taking advantage of such  circumstances beyond our control.  Within a week, as already mentioned, we had Beaky and the Lord provided the money in full.
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> 	We figured out, by the way, little fingers, that is, our youngest grandson, had opened the cage because they left their cage open most of the time at their house for their bird to come and go as he liked.  He thought he was helping grandma and grandpa out, therefore, by opening Chester's cage for us.
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> 	Over  ensuing time, the memory event just described, would play itself out in my mind.  Conventional methods of psychological methodology used for a century would teach that a person discipline their mind to stop thinking about it or to interrupt the memory by changing thoughts.  This mental exercise was initially called (behavioral modification.  In severe cases of mental and emotional disorder, this never worked for very long, if at all, so other methods were employed.  Eventually, electroshock was employed.  I prayed with a lady years ago that had this done thirty years prior to my conversations with her.  The shock treatments erased those tormenting memories and she lived a productive life; raising a family and working.  At the time I was praying with her, she was hearing voices and was suicidal.  Her children had her admitted to a psych hospital and she had the shock treatments done a second time.  In short, her memories were not healed; they were erased.  If you are thinking they weren't truly erased, you would be correct.  What if they would have been healed memories instead?  Would the shock treatments have been necessary at all?  Good question.
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> 	Recently, my memory of Chester began playing itself out in my mind.  Have you ever gotten so mentally and emotionally tired, or exhausted, you just could not make your thoughts stop.  It is also as if we want the memory to play out so the sadness will come for some reason for which we are unawares.  This time, as the sadness began to insert itself into the memory event, I realized, something had been overlooked because the memory should not be that painful.  I'm not suggesting the memory should be pleasant; it just should not be so intense.  Furthermore, I am not even suggesting a sad memory event should not come without tears.  If it is a sad memory, crying is a normal human response.  To be honest, I cried writing about this event.  So how do you tell the difference.  Believe me, when you have a memory which comes to mind, especially a sad memory event, you know if it is a place of emotional woundedness or if it is a safe place to go in your memories.  So allow me to explain what happen when Chester came to mind recently.
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> 	Keep in mind, what I am about to describe, was a mental conversation I had with God.  I never spoke a single word aloud; it was all in my thoughts.  My mental conversation with the Lord lasted no more than ten seconds, if even that long, and it was almost over in two or three seconds. The rest of the time I spent in prayer at this moment in time was rejoicing in what had occurred and the truth that set me free.
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> 	As the memory manifested in my thoughts, I suddenly realized my feelings about it were not right.  By that I mean, it was more painful and felt wrong so I prayerfully, by my thoughts, investigated.  In short, I prayed.  I did not stop and kneeling, said, "Oh, dear God and most Holy Heavenly Father, in the precious name of your only begotten Son, Jesus Christ, the one and only eternal true God, I come to you on bended knee begging for your mercy and divine intervention.  Please, oh God, hear my humble cry and harken unto thy servant."  Now before you get your tail in a knot, I am not suggesting there isn't a time and a place for such prayer; I am just telling you, you can have a relationship on much simpler terms than what I just described.  When my sad memory presented itself for the umpteenth time, I simply said by thought, "Something isn't right, Lord.  What is it?"
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> 	In my thoughts, I heard the Lord say, "What are you feeling right now?"
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> 	I said, "I feel wrong; like I did something wrong."
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> 	I heard the Lord say, "First, you understand this was an accident.  Right?"
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> 	"Yes," I replied, "it was an accident."
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> 	"Since we agree it was an unforeseeable accident, something you could do nothing about personally to change the outcome, what is your feeling about it now?"
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> 	I said, "I just feel like I should have been there for him.  I should have been able to help him but I couldn't."
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> 	This is the point of so-called "bad memories," where the Enemy attempts to deceive us into changing the facts about the event.  For example, in this case, the Enemy might have suggested it was all my fault because if I hadn't been blind, I would have seen the gate was open to Chester's cage, and protected him from being hurt.  The Enemy might likewise say that if I'd been a little faster, I could have gotten there sooner and saved the day.  He would, in fact, place such lies into my thoughts to fracture and destroy the true event in order to damage my emotions.  He could do this because of other memories that have similar emotional woundedness that has never been healed.  I will prove the truth of what I just said momentarily.
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> 	The Lord then said in my thoughts, "When did you ever feel this way before?"
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> 	I instantly saw it.  I was a little six year old boy playing with my chameleon lizard in the living room.  I had him on the floor and was letting him run across the floor.  I was on my hands and knees, trying to make myself smaller, so my lizard would feel like I was his friend.  I would prod  him gently with my finger to get him to run and then I would gallup like a small horse after him.  Once, I poked him to run, and he shot forward only about a foot.  I was already in a full gallup and my knee came down on him and, you guessed it; my knee squashed him dead.  I cried for hours, walking around and around the outside of our home, saying over and over again, "I killed my best friend; I killed my best friend."  The Iowa state fair had left town and there was no pet store that sold them so I couldn't get a new one and this just made it all that much more painful.  Furthermore, it was literally all my fault.  The Enemy amplified these painful feelings by accusing me of failing to be careful and dozens of other thoughts penetrated my mind back then and since then.
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> 	As this old, and very sad memory came to mind in my talk with the Lord, I said, "But, Lord?  This memory of the death of my little lizard has been healed.  Why are you bringing it to mind again?"
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> 	The answer the Lord gave wasn't exactly in words but in a single split second of spiritual awareness.  Let me explain using my own words.
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> 	The Lord pointed out the two events were similar in nature.  The helpless  little boy felt that he was   unable to help his friend; his dead pet lizard.  "You should have been able to help him," the Luciferian voice said deceptively within my thoughts. The Lord reminded me of how the Enemy attempts to implant lies based upon similar circumstances.  When I saw the truth, I felt something lift away from me and knew the truth had set me free.
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> 	The average Christian would look at this whole picture and say it does not classify as something worthy of God's attention.  A strong Christian, some believe, are those who can muscle their own way through such mundanity     based upon their personal knowledge of God's Word.  In fact, many Christians believe you cannot hear from God in this manner, that is, in your thoughts and mind.  Conversely,   they often believe, on the other hand, that Satan can work this way by implanting deceitful lies in ones thoughts.
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> 	The results of this type of inner healing is the creation of a safe place in ones mind.  This is a place where God's voice is heard and the truth changes and heals brokenness.  This memory for me, is now, not something I have to try and mentally, or emotionally, avoid.  The memory event was not changed but I was.  So the memory no longer creates doubt, fear, worry, or brokenness.  When my mind recalls the event, my mind conforms to the image of Christ, that is, we have the mind of Christ, and the identification with Christ is instantaneous.
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> 	I also trust you see how the first memory, when I was six years of age, morphed into the later event with Chester.  I never saw the connection largely due to the emotional pain the memory delivered, that is, the death of Chester, and the belief in the lies that were implanted by the Enemy.  Since the emotional pain was contained with the memory, the ache in my heart would have remained as long as I lived.  Now that it is a safe place where the truth of God's Word abides in me, there is no laborious mental exercise required on my part to maintain the healing.  Note, as well, the memory event never changed; it happened as I remembered it.  I changed, thanks to God's Word and the direction of the Holy Spirit, so now, when the memory appears in my thoughts, I may still feel the sorrow in the event but that is normal.  Again, I point out, the memory does not change; we do.  This is inner healing and inner healing on an earthly  manner as we walk with our Lord Jesus in daily experiences.
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> Feel free to ask any questions.
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> hil.
> Walking On Snakes