L
Lynn
Guest
• I am not including names for the privacy of my children and myself.
This story is long – I will be surprised if anyone reads it all. I will be more surprised if you believe it, but I have proof that my story is true. I have been a Christian nearly all my life and believe firmly in the Lord. I have come to believe that I am being attacked emotionally and financially and physically by Satan. It has been over 18 months of it, and I am just about at the end of what I can endure and a lot of it is at the hands of those who claim to be Christian.
2 years ago, I was married, working in a Christian learning center teaching 4 year old children, going to college online, and while my marriage was really bad due to my husbands pornography addiction and other things, but we had agreed to remain together until our 2 kids were out of high school. I spent my days in a room full of kids, then came home to my own 2 and my husband, who worked at night and reported for work at midnight would leave the house around 6. He told me he was going to work early because of a woman named “Christine†who worked the shift before him. He said she was afraid there alone after dark, so he was going to be there with her. I was very lonely and depressed. I started making a few online friends and ‘penpals’. Some of them were men but were not anything more than friends. One began to become more and I cut him off when he attempted to pursue it.
First, the people at the daycare were misusing funding received from the state and not doing what was right for the children. I lost my job because I tried to do something about it. I was terminated and was refused unemployment compensation. Two months later, I had been unable to find more employment and my husband came to me one day and said he wasn’t going to stay as we agreed, he had rented an apartment and was leaving. So there I was, no employment, no income of any kind, and he was leaving.
I tried my best to keep things civil because I wanted the kids to transition as easily as possible. My ex-husband is epileptic and cannot drive, so I helped him with some of the moving in our car. While I was doing this, my mother called me. When I told her he was leaving, she immediately attacked me verbally and told me that I had better ‘make him come back’. She said that she couldn’t believe I was so evil as to do this to my kids, that I was a terrible mother, that God would not accept this, etc. She demanded that I not break up HER family this way, etc. I finally just told her I couldn’t handle her right then and hung up.
The phone calls from her continued and she would not let up. She expected me to do as she said just because she said it – by the way – I am 48 years old, not some teenager. She stirred up my brother and my sister and had them texting and calling me as well. Then my dad called and threatened me. These where not the typical well-meaning family calls that would normally happen but verbal blasts of accusation and ugliness. It went on for months. I was an emotional wreck, trying to keep peace for my kids, trying to keep a roof over our heads with no income, and they were attacking me like that over and over EVERY DAY. There was no peace.
About 6 weeks after my husband left, one of the friends I had met online asked probing questions about my separation, my intent to divorce, if there was any hope for the marriage. I assured him I had no intention of going back into a marriage that had been horrible, abusive, and painful. He said he had enjoyed our friendship so much that he would like to meet me in person. He lived in another state but wanted to come to my city. I set up some safeguards with friends for the day I would meet him and agreed. He came, we met, and we found that we really liked each other. After taking a month’s leave of absence, he decided to give up his job in the other state and stay here. It was amazing to have someone like him in my life after what I had gone through with my husband and what my family had done to me.
He rented an apartment, and we began building a relationship. He was separated as well, but his divorce was finalized a month after he moved. Mine would be almost another year.
I didn’t tell my family about him, but they noticed I wasn’t home much, and didn’t always immediately answer my phone, etc. They began to ask questions which I tried to avoid. When I didn’t give satisfactory answers, they began to watch my house, follow me and stalk me, even peeking in my windows! The verbal attacks intensified when they found out about my new friend. The followed us everywhere – one or the other of them – and then they started threatening us. My parents decided that they were going to take my kids, my brother kept telling me I had to ‘send him back where he came from’, and making threats. My parents showed up at our church youth meeting to try to take the kids, and caused such a scene that we had to call the police. They cursed, accused, and threatened us, even in front of the officers until the officers told them they had to stop. The phone calls and texts intensified. I don’t mean a few, I mean as many as 30-50 texts per day that communicated ugliness.
I couldn’t find peace anywhere, someone was always watching me, following me, and then telling me they knew what I was doing, telling me when I came home or where I had been, saying they could find us anytime they wanted to and making threats. I was terrified when I would go home at night because I didn’t know what they might do to him or to me. The house I was living in was owner financed to my ex-husband and I, and the man was pressuring me to sign it back over to him. He wanted me and kids out of there but I didn’t have money to move us. I got to a point I would stay with my friend all day every day that I could, the kids with us too, because I was afraid, but we had to go home at night – I am a Christian – I wouldn’t live with a man who was not my husband even though I was scared.
My sister then decided to track down my new friend’s ex-wife and question her about him. Well of course, the ex-wife is not his biggest fan, and she gave my sister what she was looking for – of course it was lies. She told my sister he was a child molester, and that I had broken up their marriage by having an online affair with him, and that he would hurt me. None of it has proven true. He was a school teacher and a fine man who did all he could to help and support me and my children. He has never given me or them a moment of discomfort.
My family decided to intensify their abuse by calling DSS and telling them that my children were in danger of a child molester, and that I was a prostitute, and that I didn’t take care of them properly. When the caseworker called me and told me they needed to see me and my kids, I agreed to have them come to the house. I called my ex-husband, who had been informed of all that was going on with my family and who had tried to tell them that I had not done anything wrong to break up our marriage, and I called my friend. They were both at the house with me and the children when the DSS lady came. She interviewed all of us that day individually. My kids are 12 and 14, they were able to tell the caseworker what had been happening. We had some voicemails of my mom threatening to do this, and a voice recording of what went on in the church parking lot – the threats and accusations. The caseworker signed off on the case that day, and she complimented us on our standing together for the kids. She said that she rarely saw a family of divorce where the adults would stand together for the kids like we did.
Things had gotten so bad that finally decided we needed to file for protective orders. My friend’s order was granted but mine was not. After the court date, my family finally stopped some of the stuff. There was still an occasional call or text, but not so bad. I was refused as part of the family, but they would ask about the kids. I was not allowed to be a part of the family in anyway, and while I resented what they had done to me, I grieved the loss. My Dad especially had always been close to me and I couldn’t understand how he could have become a part of this insanity.
During all of this, I sank into a depression. I could barely function, and what strength I had went into making sure the kids were okay emotionally and physically. I sold nearly everything I had to try to keep the house. I still was unable to find a job, and probably couldn’t have handled it if I had found one. I had
no family support, and only had my friend to rely on. I say friend because there is no word that seems appropriate for what he was in those days – he eventually became my fiancé, so I guess I could use that.
He did all he could, but he was living on savings and couldn’t find work either.
Christmas and Thanksgiving were horrible for me – they had always been such family times, we had family traditions that I was not allowed to be a part of unless I gave up my fiancé. I refused to do so. I had some health issues that worsened due to lack of medical care and lack of caring for myself. I just barely was able to take care of the girls. Things in the house piled up, I was depressed and sometimes could only lie on the floor and stare at the wall. Sometimes I couldn’t even pray.
Finally, in an effort to help me, my fiancé moved into a wooden ‘cabin’ (really a storage building) in my back yard so that he could be close but we would have separate sleeping areas. It comforted me somewhat to know he was near at night. That is when we found out that we were still being watched. My family began the texts again wanting to know why I was allowing him to live at my home and demanding that he move away.
This stuff went on for over a year.
When my divorce became final, he asked me to marry him and I said yes. We were very happy about the engagement, but I was still grieving and hurt over my family and we still had no jobs.
Friends of mine decided to help with our wedding so that we could marry soon. A church, a pastor, a wedding cake and reception, all of these types of things were offered to us at no charge to us. I was very excited and happy to that we were going to be married, but still grieved that my family wouldn’t be there.
About three weeks before the wedding, I received a text from my sister. It simply said –Dad very sick, going to ER. I knew I wouldn’t be able to see him, but I went to the hospital anyway. I texted my sister and told her I was there and begged her to keep me informed of his condition, which she grudgingly did. I sat in a back hallway alone for hours. She told my parents I was there, and after several hours, they decided to let me see him because his condition seemed very serious. It was awkward and painful to see them. We found out that day the he had cancer. They told us he had about a year to live.
The family decided that because he was dying, I could see him but I couldn’t mention my fiancé or bring him with me. Dad went home from the hospital to await tests to determine more about his condition before beginning chemo. He made it a week before he was back in the hospital in pain. This time they told us they were wrong, that he didn’t have a year, he had two weeks. At this point the family began staying with him around the clock. I was permitted to take shifts sitting with him. I postponed my wedding and we began what essentially became a death watch. The weekend of what should have been my wedding, I stayed with him all day on Friday. I went home for about 3 hours, then came back to stay Friday night with him. On Saturday morning, the day that would have been my wedding day, the doctor came in and told me that he was dying, to call the family. At 10:00 that night, he passed away.
I went through all of that, and the funeral without my fiancé by my side. I stood alone or with my kids while the family comforted and supported each other. During the three weeks while we watched him die, they never missed an opportunity to take a jab at me about ‘making the last year of his life miserable for him’ and ‘hurting him like I had’, etc. When he passed away, while his body was still in the room with us, my mother told me that she was glad that he knew all his other children loved him. These people tormented me beyond what a normal person would be able to stand. My brother yelled at me because my fiancé was in the car in the parking lot of the hospital like it was their personal parking lot and he shouldn’t be there.
I have not had a job in 18 months. I have felt as though I lost 13 people to death or something – my family is gone. I have been sick, I have struggled, I have sold everything I had. I did marry my fiancé shortly after my father’s death in a private ceremony in a small chapel with only my children and a few friends as witnesses. He has been the agent of God’s grace in my life during this time, he is a wonderful loving husband and stepfather. My children love him and their Dad has no issues with him.
My new husband found work, but he lost it in a few months. While he had work, I signed over the house and we moved into a rental, which we have not been late on once. Now that he has lost his job, and may not be able to get unemployment compensation either, we are facing the possibility of losing this home. The people we rent from are not tolerant, and we have been told if we are late with a rental payment, we will be given 10 days to vacate.
I need some people who will pray for us. I need physical strength, emotional healing, and we need financial miracles. We cannot keep on this way. It is my hope that a few people might read my story and pray for us.
This story is long – I will be surprised if anyone reads it all. I will be more surprised if you believe it, but I have proof that my story is true. I have been a Christian nearly all my life and believe firmly in the Lord. I have come to believe that I am being attacked emotionally and financially and physically by Satan. It has been over 18 months of it, and I am just about at the end of what I can endure and a lot of it is at the hands of those who claim to be Christian.
2 years ago, I was married, working in a Christian learning center teaching 4 year old children, going to college online, and while my marriage was really bad due to my husbands pornography addiction and other things, but we had agreed to remain together until our 2 kids were out of high school. I spent my days in a room full of kids, then came home to my own 2 and my husband, who worked at night and reported for work at midnight would leave the house around 6. He told me he was going to work early because of a woman named “Christine†who worked the shift before him. He said she was afraid there alone after dark, so he was going to be there with her. I was very lonely and depressed. I started making a few online friends and ‘penpals’. Some of them were men but were not anything more than friends. One began to become more and I cut him off when he attempted to pursue it.
First, the people at the daycare were misusing funding received from the state and not doing what was right for the children. I lost my job because I tried to do something about it. I was terminated and was refused unemployment compensation. Two months later, I had been unable to find more employment and my husband came to me one day and said he wasn’t going to stay as we agreed, he had rented an apartment and was leaving. So there I was, no employment, no income of any kind, and he was leaving.
I tried my best to keep things civil because I wanted the kids to transition as easily as possible. My ex-husband is epileptic and cannot drive, so I helped him with some of the moving in our car. While I was doing this, my mother called me. When I told her he was leaving, she immediately attacked me verbally and told me that I had better ‘make him come back’. She said that she couldn’t believe I was so evil as to do this to my kids, that I was a terrible mother, that God would not accept this, etc. She demanded that I not break up HER family this way, etc. I finally just told her I couldn’t handle her right then and hung up.
The phone calls from her continued and she would not let up. She expected me to do as she said just because she said it – by the way – I am 48 years old, not some teenager. She stirred up my brother and my sister and had them texting and calling me as well. Then my dad called and threatened me. These where not the typical well-meaning family calls that would normally happen but verbal blasts of accusation and ugliness. It went on for months. I was an emotional wreck, trying to keep peace for my kids, trying to keep a roof over our heads with no income, and they were attacking me like that over and over EVERY DAY. There was no peace.
About 6 weeks after my husband left, one of the friends I had met online asked probing questions about my separation, my intent to divorce, if there was any hope for the marriage. I assured him I had no intention of going back into a marriage that had been horrible, abusive, and painful. He said he had enjoyed our friendship so much that he would like to meet me in person. He lived in another state but wanted to come to my city. I set up some safeguards with friends for the day I would meet him and agreed. He came, we met, and we found that we really liked each other. After taking a month’s leave of absence, he decided to give up his job in the other state and stay here. It was amazing to have someone like him in my life after what I had gone through with my husband and what my family had done to me.
He rented an apartment, and we began building a relationship. He was separated as well, but his divorce was finalized a month after he moved. Mine would be almost another year.
I didn’t tell my family about him, but they noticed I wasn’t home much, and didn’t always immediately answer my phone, etc. They began to ask questions which I tried to avoid. When I didn’t give satisfactory answers, they began to watch my house, follow me and stalk me, even peeking in my windows! The verbal attacks intensified when they found out about my new friend. The followed us everywhere – one or the other of them – and then they started threatening us. My parents decided that they were going to take my kids, my brother kept telling me I had to ‘send him back where he came from’, and making threats. My parents showed up at our church youth meeting to try to take the kids, and caused such a scene that we had to call the police. They cursed, accused, and threatened us, even in front of the officers until the officers told them they had to stop. The phone calls and texts intensified. I don’t mean a few, I mean as many as 30-50 texts per day that communicated ugliness.
I couldn’t find peace anywhere, someone was always watching me, following me, and then telling me they knew what I was doing, telling me when I came home or where I had been, saying they could find us anytime they wanted to and making threats. I was terrified when I would go home at night because I didn’t know what they might do to him or to me. The house I was living in was owner financed to my ex-husband and I, and the man was pressuring me to sign it back over to him. He wanted me and kids out of there but I didn’t have money to move us. I got to a point I would stay with my friend all day every day that I could, the kids with us too, because I was afraid, but we had to go home at night – I am a Christian – I wouldn’t live with a man who was not my husband even though I was scared.
My sister then decided to track down my new friend’s ex-wife and question her about him. Well of course, the ex-wife is not his biggest fan, and she gave my sister what she was looking for – of course it was lies. She told my sister he was a child molester, and that I had broken up their marriage by having an online affair with him, and that he would hurt me. None of it has proven true. He was a school teacher and a fine man who did all he could to help and support me and my children. He has never given me or them a moment of discomfort.
My family decided to intensify their abuse by calling DSS and telling them that my children were in danger of a child molester, and that I was a prostitute, and that I didn’t take care of them properly. When the caseworker called me and told me they needed to see me and my kids, I agreed to have them come to the house. I called my ex-husband, who had been informed of all that was going on with my family and who had tried to tell them that I had not done anything wrong to break up our marriage, and I called my friend. They were both at the house with me and the children when the DSS lady came. She interviewed all of us that day individually. My kids are 12 and 14, they were able to tell the caseworker what had been happening. We had some voicemails of my mom threatening to do this, and a voice recording of what went on in the church parking lot – the threats and accusations. The caseworker signed off on the case that day, and she complimented us on our standing together for the kids. She said that she rarely saw a family of divorce where the adults would stand together for the kids like we did.
Things had gotten so bad that finally decided we needed to file for protective orders. My friend’s order was granted but mine was not. After the court date, my family finally stopped some of the stuff. There was still an occasional call or text, but not so bad. I was refused as part of the family, but they would ask about the kids. I was not allowed to be a part of the family in anyway, and while I resented what they had done to me, I grieved the loss. My Dad especially had always been close to me and I couldn’t understand how he could have become a part of this insanity.
During all of this, I sank into a depression. I could barely function, and what strength I had went into making sure the kids were okay emotionally and physically. I sold nearly everything I had to try to keep the house. I still was unable to find a job, and probably couldn’t have handled it if I had found one. I had
no family support, and only had my friend to rely on. I say friend because there is no word that seems appropriate for what he was in those days – he eventually became my fiancé, so I guess I could use that.
He did all he could, but he was living on savings and couldn’t find work either.
Christmas and Thanksgiving were horrible for me – they had always been such family times, we had family traditions that I was not allowed to be a part of unless I gave up my fiancé. I refused to do so. I had some health issues that worsened due to lack of medical care and lack of caring for myself. I just barely was able to take care of the girls. Things in the house piled up, I was depressed and sometimes could only lie on the floor and stare at the wall. Sometimes I couldn’t even pray.
Finally, in an effort to help me, my fiancé moved into a wooden ‘cabin’ (really a storage building) in my back yard so that he could be close but we would have separate sleeping areas. It comforted me somewhat to know he was near at night. That is when we found out that we were still being watched. My family began the texts again wanting to know why I was allowing him to live at my home and demanding that he move away.
This stuff went on for over a year.
When my divorce became final, he asked me to marry him and I said yes. We were very happy about the engagement, but I was still grieving and hurt over my family and we still had no jobs.
Friends of mine decided to help with our wedding so that we could marry soon. A church, a pastor, a wedding cake and reception, all of these types of things were offered to us at no charge to us. I was very excited and happy to that we were going to be married, but still grieved that my family wouldn’t be there.
About three weeks before the wedding, I received a text from my sister. It simply said –Dad very sick, going to ER. I knew I wouldn’t be able to see him, but I went to the hospital anyway. I texted my sister and told her I was there and begged her to keep me informed of his condition, which she grudgingly did. I sat in a back hallway alone for hours. She told my parents I was there, and after several hours, they decided to let me see him because his condition seemed very serious. It was awkward and painful to see them. We found out that day the he had cancer. They told us he had about a year to live.
The family decided that because he was dying, I could see him but I couldn’t mention my fiancé or bring him with me. Dad went home from the hospital to await tests to determine more about his condition before beginning chemo. He made it a week before he was back in the hospital in pain. This time they told us they were wrong, that he didn’t have a year, he had two weeks. At this point the family began staying with him around the clock. I was permitted to take shifts sitting with him. I postponed my wedding and we began what essentially became a death watch. The weekend of what should have been my wedding, I stayed with him all day on Friday. I went home for about 3 hours, then came back to stay Friday night with him. On Saturday morning, the day that would have been my wedding day, the doctor came in and told me that he was dying, to call the family. At 10:00 that night, he passed away.
I went through all of that, and the funeral without my fiancé by my side. I stood alone or with my kids while the family comforted and supported each other. During the three weeks while we watched him die, they never missed an opportunity to take a jab at me about ‘making the last year of his life miserable for him’ and ‘hurting him like I had’, etc. When he passed away, while his body was still in the room with us, my mother told me that she was glad that he knew all his other children loved him. These people tormented me beyond what a normal person would be able to stand. My brother yelled at me because my fiancé was in the car in the parking lot of the hospital like it was their personal parking lot and he shouldn’t be there.
I have not had a job in 18 months. I have felt as though I lost 13 people to death or something – my family is gone. I have been sick, I have struggled, I have sold everything I had. I did marry my fiancé shortly after my father’s death in a private ceremony in a small chapel with only my children and a few friends as witnesses. He has been the agent of God’s grace in my life during this time, he is a wonderful loving husband and stepfather. My children love him and their Dad has no issues with him.
My new husband found work, but he lost it in a few months. While he had work, I signed over the house and we moved into a rental, which we have not been late on once. Now that he has lost his job, and may not be able to get unemployment compensation either, we are facing the possibility of losing this home. The people we rent from are not tolerant, and we have been told if we are late with a rental payment, we will be given 10 days to vacate.
I need some people who will pray for us. I need physical strength, emotional healing, and we need financial miracles. We cannot keep on this way. It is my hope that a few people might read my story and pray for us.
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