The Hope of Glory

By Treasure Destiny

Murder and Abuse
There was the scene that day, my mother's head bashed against the wall. There she stood with a very pale complexion, and bright red blood running down the right side of her angelic face. The next scene of my life, the sound of a gunshot to the chest ended my time with the man who gave me life.
Now a new scene, my mother is sick and I can feel death at hand. Everyone is celebrating her miraculous recovery, but I felt death standing around the corner - watching, waiting, hiding. Something wasn't right, and I needed to know the truth.

Captivity
Please, I need to know the truth. Chains on every side, and I'm in a pit of Hell. There's a serpent coiling himself around my life. I can't break free, and I am surrounded by trapped souls and legions of demons that seemed to be too strong for me. The fights, the traps, the rage, the lies were all taking a toll and I felt like I was dying. Screaming, "Lord, help me! Show me, Lord, who I am through your eyes," I cried out loudly. "Please be the Lord of my life." It was at that moment that I entered into his glorious presence.

Spiritual Warfare

Surprisingly, my spirit eyes were gently opened. I observed the scene in another realm, much like that of the burning bush when God came to meet Moses and spoke to him. The flames of fire that woke me as my car burned was much more than just the mere reflection of a conflagration. It was the voice of the Almighty God. He said, "You are mine and I love you. You shall live and not die."
For breakthrough was at hand, it was evident that the press was working. I searched deep within the inner-most me to release a long awaited breakthrough that followed me for so many years. Oh, but how the breakthrough didn't come without a battle. I shall live and not die.

Victory

The Spirit has a rememberance of your future that the human mind can't comprehend. Remembering that the times were evil, I took a "Now" Word from the Lord for my present; believing that it was the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen. Then, redeeming the times with a revelation from God concerning my future, resisting death at every turn, and shutting the door to my access Satan thought he had my generations; I claimed victory over generational cycles of abuse when I drew my sling back and hit my Goliath in the center of his head causing them to fall and never rise again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Treasure Destiny
• Release date: Sep 20, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463439067

Book preview

THE HOPE OF GLORY

Treasure Destiny

Published by Treasure Destiny at Smashwords

Copyright 2013

This e-book is licensed for your personal use only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

DEDICATION

Chapter 1- INTRODUCTION

Chapter 2 - DAD

Chapter 3 - MOM

Chapter 4 - GROWING PAINS

Chapter 5 - LIFE AND PROSPERITY

Chapter 6 - DEATH AND ADVERSITY

Chapter 7 - OPEN YE GATES

Chapter 8 - FLESH AND SPIRIT

Chapter 9 - WARFARE

Chapter 10 - BATTLE BEFORE THE BREAKTHROUGH

Chapter 11 - VICTORY

Chapter 12 - HOPE OF GLORY

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DEDICATION

I look in the mirror, and I see your face. When I feel for others, I feel your heart. When I speak to my children, I use your words. When I face difficult circumstances, I have your strength. When my children fail, I have your encouragement to give to them. When they succeed, I have your smile. Everything that I am is because you loved me unconditionally, and without blame. What you gave me in 17 years, some people may never experience their whole life. Because you were a light, darkness has never remained an option for me. Because you were love, hate never found a permanent home in my heart. Because you were decent, I knew right from wrong. Because you were unconditional, selfishness could never walk with me. Because you were fearless, I learned that mountains had to move at the sound of my voice. Because you always saw the good in me, I became close companions with forgiveness. Because you chose God, I chose life and not death.

I’ve loved you from the first day we met. You were there when I took my first breathe. I was there when you took your last. You were my best friend, and the love of my life. You were my hero. You were an honor to me. I thank God every day for choosing you to be my mom. I remember your touch. I remember your smile. I remember your smell. I remember your laughter - Seems like it was just yesterday. I always knew that I had a lot of favor with God. The word says that God knew me before I was even formed in my mother’s womb. My biggest achievement in life came before I was ever even conceived. God chose you as my mom! No matter what life brings, I will always choose the path that gives honor to you most in life so that your death will never be in vain. As I honor you, I honor God. Thank you for having the courage to leave me Jesus!

CHAPTER 1

Introduction

I shall live, and not die. I was born into sin, and I was thrust in the midst of darkness where I was given a light that would shine in obscurity for a season. I was clothed with a uniqueness that could bring about change, and often shake the very existence that surrounded me. I was set aside for a time such as this. It was too small of a thing that I would be called a servant of the most High God, and dwell in a place where righteousness would be my rear guard. Truth was my help, and my hands learned to war, and with God I leaped over walls, and ran through troops. I walked in the shoes of peace. I tightened my belt of truth and activated my shield of faith. I cut with my sword which was the mighty Word of God. I defeated condemnation with my helmet of salvation. I stood tall and squared my shoulders back wearing the breastplate of righteousness.

I was given the strength of an eagle, and I learned to run and not get tired. I learned to walk and not become weary. I held justice as if it were a trophy in my hands. I tore down, and I built up. I shifted the atmosphere at the sound of the voice of the Holy Spirit. I walked through fire, and never got burned. I spent nights in the thickets of Arabia. My life was not my own, nor was it ever, or will it ever be because it belonged to God. God’s word says that He knew me before I was ever even formed in my mother’s womb. He said that I was set apart from the beginning.

Into your hands, Lord, I commit my spirit. I shall live, and not die. My generations shall live and not die. I send forth a command into the atmosphere to live and let live; no one has to die. He knew me before I was even formed in my mother’s womb. It was God who would choose my trials, my tribulations, and my triumphs. God ransomed my life. He made me a signet ring upon his fingers. He made my latter glory greater than my former glory.

He washed away my sins and prepared a table in the presence of my enemies. He picked me up out of the miry clay and dusted me off. He took away the charges set against my life by Satan that were contrary to who he said I was. He saved me from a dying hell. I have a story to tell, a story of God’s faithful love, grace and mercy.

CHAPTER 2

Dad

On July 4, 1986 the phone rings around midnight. On the other end of the phone my mom hears the voice of one in deep pain from the news of the murder of my dad. Almost like a domino effect from person to person, it was now my turn to process the devastating impact at twelve years old that would forever change the course of my life as I once knew it. I remember standing there. Too young to even comprehend that the news of my father’s murder was supposed to break even the strongest parts of me down, I just remembered thinking, They killed him. They shot him. That’s the last I’d ever see of him. I couldn’t ever talk to him again. That’s all the time I got with him?

My brother ran out of the house not to be seen for days as a desperate attempt to escape reality which often became common ground for him throughout the rest of our lives. Me, well, I watched everyone else in order to gain some understanding of how I was to grieve. Was there really a proper way at twelve years old? I saw the tears, the sadness, though divorced for several years, of my mother who I thought would have had the least remorse of all. As a child conceived out of compassion, forgiveness, and love, there was an apparent sadness in her demeanor, and at that moment I grasped hold of her emotions in spite of the circumstances. A tear never dropped from my eyes, just an overwhelming feeling of compassion, forgiveness, and love that proved to lie dormant only manifesting itself through tragedy in the early stages of my life, my journey.

With little understanding, through my mother’s grief, came a lesson I so desperately needed in order to navigate through the darkest moments I would endure throughout my adult life. Immediately, I began reflecting back and I would try so hard to remember the good moments of my life with my dad. As loving to me as he had seemed, I could only remember one scene of their relationship which would play over and over in my head. I remembered the time we moved with my mother into an apartment after their separation. My dad came, and an argument started. He bashed my mother’s head against the wall. There she stood with a very pale complexion, bright red blood running down the right side of her face, and the look of an apparent broken and contrite heart. Why was it the only scene of our relationship I would remember at a time like this? After every thought of this scene, I would look to my mother and there was the same demeanor and emotion upon her face – compassion, forgiveness, and love.

Though there was tragedy, even in the reflections of my thoughts, every emotion I learned in that hour went back to compassion, forgiveness, and love. Wondering, I asked, Where was the hate? Where was the hurt? Where was the anger and the satisfaction of revenge for the tragic scene that repeatedly ran through my mind. Weren’t these the emotions needed in order to heal what I thought should have been a wound in my mother’s heart? "After all a man had taken my dad’s life, where was the hate? Where was the hurt? Where was the anger, and the thirst for immediate revenge against the men who ended my dad’s life? This should have been, for me, a point of confusion in so many ways. I don’t know that I have enough words to explain the confusion I should have suffered. But God didn’t see fit to allow me to be bound to useless emotions destined to separate me from him and abort my future destiny. Little did I know, it was a trap by Satan to bind me through hate, hurt, anger, and revenge which would destroy any chance of destiny for me in the future.

At the early age of 12, unknowingly, I found grace, mercy and favor in the eyes of God, and because for my life he had a plan and preparation was at hand. He chose this tribulation in my life. A few days later, I would find myself in the midst of a gathering meant to pay last respects to a man slain. Unfortunately, I found the hate. I found the hurt. I found the anger and the thirst for revenge that I wondered much about in days prior; but not within my heart. Instead, they found a home within some of my closest family. I could feel it all around me, as people gathered on the porch of my grandmother’s home in Palmetto, Georgia. The hate was so strong for the ones who had taken judgment into their own hands and was now forever labeled a murderer. Then there was the hurt and the anger that caused the emotional coldness, the rejection, and an immediate distance that separated my brother and me from my dad’s side of our family for years to come. My brother being the exact image of my dad in looks stopped the car and stood at the murderer’s driveway with revenge in his eyes. As the murderer looked down the long slope of his driveway, there stood a clone of the man whose life he’d taken. With the most startling look of fright on his face, he ran into the house. I told my mother what my brother had done, and she immediately forbade my brother to return to Palmetto or be anywhere near that man. Divorced and grieving, it became evident through actions that my mother wasn’t to be a part of any of the activities that deemed her as part of his family.

My mother left the house alone. Fearful of the grieving emotions I felt from others, I searched for her. I remember looking everywhere for her. Finally, there she sat in the church all by herself across from my dad’s lifeless body. Still with so much compassion, forgiveness, and love she cried so many tears for him. At that moment, I learned that it was okay to cry. As I cried, I remembered thinking that my dad, much like my mother, had a wound in his heart, too. Only with his, there would never be another opportunity in this lifetime for healing; leaving me in search to understand the wounds that hunted by my dad for so long. Why, because I had developed a deep hunger for the truth. I didn’t know much about the relationship between my mother and my father; my mother would always speak kindly of my dad. She never took the time to really explain her life with him, nor did she speak of her deliverance from their relationship. As much as I could remember, my mother’s only warning was a story of how I was conceived. My dad, having being shot once before by man during one phase of their marital separation, she felt compassion, forgiveness, and love for him; returned back to him, and I was conceived. Some would even say that was honorable on her part for shielding me from details of their traumatic relationship at an early age. In many ways it was, but on the other hand, I needed to know the truth. It was important that I knew the truth. I need you to remember this, just as God had destiny in mind for me, Satan also had a plan to abort it. Hear me when I say this, I needed to know the truth.

God chose my mother and my father to give life to me, and for that I honor them. I will say it again, and this time to your benefit. I needed to know the truth, and much like me You need to know your truth. How else will you stop it? Stop what, you may ask. You may be the one to stop that which follows you from generation to generation. Blessed is the child who has his own. Wherefore take unto you the whole armor of God that ye may be able to withstand in the evil, and have done all, to stand. Stand therefore; having your loins girt about with truth… Ephesians 6:11-12 Though as a young child, I didn’t understand that while we enter the dark areas of our life, that God’s way of preparing deliverance from those situations would often be through truth. In his word he says, Fear not, I will help you in truth. As a young child not conditioned in the word of God, I only felt in my heart this great urge to understand truth. With knowing the inner most me, though I never asked about the truth, he answered my deepest prayers.

I went everywhere with your mother to keep her safe from your dad. If he couldn’t have her, then no one could. This began a series of many conversations through the eyes of my grandmother, who often gained much wisdom through her keen since of observation of people. Many times, when my mother would be working, my grandmother would often be my closest companion aside from my brother and cousins. Sometimes sitting with her, a thick quietness would take over the room, and out comes a much needed story of some sort. My grandmother speaks, In the beginning, your dad was not a nice man to your mom. When they first met, I watched them play with one another. But in your dad’s eyes was the meanest look I had ever seen. It was almost as if he could hurt her. I said to your mom, If you haven’t started a relationship with this man, then don’t. By the look in her eyes, I knew it had already begun, and she was in love. I watched them get married. As we left the courthouse, he wouldn’t look at her, hold her hand, or even walk with her. The look on your mother’s face was so sad. But she was determined to make a marriage work with him for the sake of her children.

Days would often go by, and there would be no discussion of him. At that time, my dad would often come by the house. No knock on the door; no phone call out of