The Fountain of Youth: Lessons in the Desert

Lessons in the Desert: The Fountain of Youth

From the Series, "Escape to Freedom: Diary of a Battered Preacher's Wife" ~ Part 2

Previous Chapter: Voice of the Moon Flower

By: Susan McKenzie A.K.A. Tender Lily

Stripping off jeans and jacket to my bathing suit underneath, I quickly let my body slip into the tranquil hot mineral water. I gazed at the colorfully lit fountain of youth, a natural spring that ejected volcanically heated waters loaded with heavy mineral content, tens of thousands of fresh gallons every day. It felt so soothing, even in the April drizzle.

Now and then a stranger's head would bob up through the thick wafts of steam. I could hear muted splashes as a few stray tourists joined me in a midnight swim. The pool, located just outside town, was the size of half a football field and it was easy to be alone, even with others swimming nearby.

I often soaked and swam until midnight or later. Nights were not conducive to sleep anymore. I had lost taste for food, as well. It seemed the only place I felt peaceful was in this pool, alongside the Big Horn River.

Stretching both hands into the air, reaching out for the One who made the stars and moon, I sang all the songs of love and praise I knew to my Daddy. Somehow I knew He did see me, even when it seemed the whole world, or my little corner of it, was denying reality and chasing after the miracles that did, indeed, accompany my healing evangelist husband's ministry.

Abandoned but not alone. There were people keeping an eye out for me through the steamy vapors that I didn't discover were watching me until later.

They were listening to my prayer songs. Both of them became like angels who accompanied me, one on each side. These strangers became a living reflection of my Heavenly Daddy as they simply came alongside me and shared their own stories with me. I began to see through their eyes a different picture of me.

Although I didn't know it then, my husband had hired an attorney and divorce papers were on the way.  God knew I couldn't take much more, so He tenderly placed these "secret heroes" in my path.

My life was a like a crime zone, cordoned off by police tape. I shared this life with my inner circle of friends, pastors, counselors, and mentors. Many of them quietly disappeared.

Post-traumatic stress is what they call this deconstruction period of one's life. Most church leaders today do not understand PTSD and are not equipped to help a survivor. Many, in fact, blame the victims and further traumatize their fragile and precious souls.

Churches can be dangerous places, for many people.

Yet, God never intended us to figure it all out ourselves. It takes a family to live here on Planet Earth. The family unit is the backbone of society. But our definition of family and marriage have become so polluted with worldly values and thinking that the first thing we must deconstruct are the lies we believe about marriage, family, and church!

I had to begin by facing reality and re-defining my identity and my role in society.

"Widowed." I wasn't divorced. I wasn't married. What do you call a preacher's wife who has been abandoned by her husband, her church, and many of her friends?

TheFreeDictionary.com gives this definition of a widow: " A woman whose spouse is often away pursuing a sport or hobby."

In the New Living Translation of James 1:27: "Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you." (Bold, mine)

So, back to my story… Tonight I wonder, "Does anyone really see me?" The most basic human need is to love and to be loved. As God has often done in my life, He's about to give me an opportunity to give away the very thing I need, myself, most!

I sink under the hot steaming waters to clear my eyeglasses of blinding vapors and re-emerge into the frosty air. I climb out of the pool and sprint to the bench to put on my clothes. My hair is still dripping as I jog to my truck. Suddenly I hear a man's heart-wrenching cries which cause me to pause in mid-step.

Someone else is looking up to the moon and stars tonight, and he's talking to God.

But his heart is full of pain and his face is all twisted and contorted with a mixture of emotions. For a second I wonder if I should run! I listen to his pain-filled questions, more like stabs into the dark void of heaven. I can tell this man does not know God, yet he's reaching out in the darkness to make contact with his Creator.

I'm still not sure if I should run.

He catches my eye and I recognize the mechanic who had fixed my truck, not asking me for anything in return for his service. So I pause and listen to his questions that are now aimed at me. He wants to know if there is a God out there, if He really sees the pain people feel.

My wet bathing suit has soaked through my jeans and my jacket is also damp. I am slowly turning into an icicle but still I listen. With a captive audience, his voice rises a notch in intensity.

He tells his story of risking everything and losing all, for the sake of love. I could tell right away he has looked for love in all the wrong places. He reeks of strong spirits, not the godly kind. But my inner danger censor feels peaceful. No mental warning lights are blaring, so I continue to listen to his story right in the middle of the parking lot.

A giant shift in our realities began that night, but its reverberations were yet to be fully manifested.

God ALWAYS hears prayers from hungry souls and the changes you seek are already in motion, even before you cry out for help!

What I was about to learn, through the darkest of days and loneliest of nights, is that God's love shines its most glorious Light in the Darkest of times. James 1:2-3 says it better than I: "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance."

Isn't it Charles Dickens, in "A Tale of Two Cities," who wrote, "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times." For me, it is very much so. No regrets.

For right now, I give to you a slice of myself… my own story. God is no respecter of persons. Whether you believe in Him or not, He will answer your prayer. Don't be afraid to ask Him for BIG things! He's very partial to answering those prayers!

You are loved! If you missed the last chapter, click here for "Voice of the Moon Flower."

More to come, next time!

Susan McKenzie knows how it feels to lose everything: marriage and family, church and reputation, finances and businesses, and so much more. In a series of letters spanning more than two decades, God gave Susan "Love from Papa,' through her personal daily journals to help her in exiting organized religion where she had served in duties ranging from pastor, inner healing and deliverance minister, and Midwest regional coordinator for a large international ministry. In the past decade Susan has been applying the truths she learned and is now publishing her journals for the first time.

If you've ever felt you lost your soul in the midst of a "successful" Christian lifestyle, "Love from Papa" is for you! It's a practical guide via stories, poems, dreams and visions all in the context of Susan's real life story and the Bible. You can register to receive the newsletter, "Love from Papa" by entering your name and email below.

Copyright 2012, Susan McKenzie, http://TeamFamilyOnline.com. Permission is granted to copy, forward, or distribute this article for non-commercial use only, as long as this copyright byline and bio, in totality, is maintained in all duplications, copies, and link references.  For reprint permission for any commercial use, in any form of media, please contact Susan McKenzie.

Tagged as: Choosing Love Today, Deborah White Dove, Getting Your Life Back, Life Story Writing, Losing it All and Starting Over, New Family Legacy, PTSD - post-traumatic stress disorder, Real People Real Stories, Rewriting the Future, Writing a Life Story