The Beloved's Beloved

By Sara Nicole

A powerful true story of what God can do to redeem a wounded soul. Once upon a time, a little princess was born and taken by the enemy to be held captive for thirty years. This is the story of the day her Prince came to deliver her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sara Nicole
• Release date: Apr 29, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201691974

Sara Nicole

Sara was born and raised in Kansas with roots in the south. She did not love writing as a child, but she loved stories and still does. She learns best through stories, and that is what sparked her love for writing. When she could not find a story that explained the questions she had, she wrote one to explore the answers for herself. That begat another story, which begat another, until she had a fair number of stories with which she could delve into the character of God, for He is the Source of all of her stories. For this reason she does not consider herself an author so much as a scribe, for all of her stories are inspired by listening to God. He is much more creative than she is! All glory belongs to Him! . The use of her first and middle names, Sara Nicole, as her pen name is done in honor of her grandmother, Sara Gene, who went to be with the Lord in 2011. . “LORD, You will establish peace for us, since You have also performed for us all our works.” Isaiah 26:12, NASB .

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Part 1: Testimony

This section is dedicated to Sarah, my battle buddy.

This Is My Song

God did a major deliverance in my life recently, and I want to tell about it. However, I cannot do that fully without first starting at the beginning. So, here is my song.

I had a happy childhood. I was born into a loving family who were all Christians - from the great-grandparents that I knew down to my cousins and siblings. They were close-knit, and I learned from early on to value family highly. We had many happy times together, and often my closest friends were family members. I was born a few months after one of my uncles began a church, so I have literally attended the same church my whole life to this point. (I have attended others churches in addition, especially when out of town.) I have participated in nursery ministry, children’s ministry, been a part of youth group and college-age Christian Challenge, small group Bible studies, etc.

This was my song.

But there was a chord in my song which no one heard, for I tried to keep it hidden, silent. I could not silence it, but I tried my hardest to do so. My hardest was not enough. I was shaken and rattled by the reverberations of this chord, even though I did a fair job of hiding the sound from others. This chord was demonic in nature, and it played harshly from my childhood, even my earliest years.

I do not remember how old I was when it happened. I do not remember myself before it happened, so I assume I was very young. I was demonically attacked in my dreams. I remember that first dream - rather, nightmare - vividly. It was horrible, as all demonic activities are. By the way, if you, reader, do not believe in the spiritual realm, I suggest you choose another book. This one will not make sense to you.

After that dream, I tried very hard to forget it and actually succeeded for several years, but that did not stop the demonic attacks, which continued throughout my life until now, which is my third decade of life. They were often spiritual, mental, and emotional attacks, but sometimes physical. They did not only occur in my dreams but happened often while I was awake. The common theme was terror and the message that I was worthless. I believed this. And I was plagued with terror.

Why would God allow this to happen to a little girl, whom He professes to love? I want to point out something here. I chose to believe the lies the demons told me. I was told the truth by my family, by my church, by my friends and mentors. I chose instead to believe the fears and feelings elicited by the demons. This was wrong. The attacks themselves would have lost their power if I had not chosen to believe the lies. This choice opened me to more attacks, which impressed more lies upon me, which opened me to more attacks, in a self-perpetuating, vicious cycle. I was wrong.

Moreover, I was wrong in my reaction. Like Adam and Eve in the garden, I ran and hid. I covered myself with fig leaves. If I had reached out to someone for help much sooner (I waited until I was twenty-one, I think), I would have found freedom sooner. God told me, in fact, point blank to tell someone when I was sixteen years old. I refused out of shame, to my own detriment. I would have discovered the truth sooner if I had told someone - for at that point I did not realize the attacks were demonic. I thought I was making them. That was one of the lies that the demons told me: that they did not exist and I was coming up with these thoughts and lies on my own.

That was a devastating lie to believe. I became convinced that I was inherently evil. Not that I was sinful like all human beings (except Jesus Christ), but that I was nothing but sin. That led me to make conclusions like God could not possibly love me, and since God could not love me, no one else could either. I feared being exposed, rejected, abandoned, and lost