Stand: Falling Isn't Failing

By Aba Dadson

Aba Dadson struggled with low self-esteem, anxiety, and depression for years.

She was convinced that she was alone and had no one but herself to lean on. Even after she became a born again Christian, she struggled to find healing.

Fortunately, God led her to Scriptures with powerful messages that led her to the right path and people who helped heal her heart and mind.

In this book, she shares her struggles and considers questions such as:

• How can you build a better relationship with God?

• What can you do to let go of the past?

• How can you tune in to God’s voice and find direction?

• What steps can you take to rewrite the story of your life?

Healing can be bittersweet: There are moments when you feel the hurt all over again—and other days when you feel so great, you want to shout it to the world. The best way to navigate the process is to seek out and praise the Lord.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Aug 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781664270671

Aba Dadson

Aba Dadson was mocked, ridiculed, and rejected while growing up disabled in West Africa.(please consider: People growing up with disabilities in West Africa are often mocked, ridiculed and rejected and Aba was no exception) She thought she had nothing good to offer anyone. This book reveals how she found comfort and acceptance in God, which led her to heal her heart and mind and find purpose. She has helped build churches, ministered to the hurting, and brought hope to the poor, the incarcerated, refugees, and others. She wrote this book so that everyone knows God cares about them.

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Copyright © 2022 Aba Dadson.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Scripture quotations taken from The Holy Bible, New International

Version® NIV® Copyright © 1973 1978 1984 2011 by Biblica, Inc.

TM. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Scripture is taken from GOD’S WORD®, © 1995 God’s Word to the

Nations. Used by permission of Baker Publishing Group.

ISBN: 978-1-6642-7066-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-7067-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022911818

WestBow Press rev. date: 08/10/2022

CONTENTS

Introduction

Is God Really Gone?

Tug of War

A Life Style (Worship) that Brings His Presence

Breaking through anointing (Grace)

Boldness a tool of warfare

You are loosed

Wisdom to govern not worship

INTRODUCTION

One evening in the year 2000 I was lying in bed and asking myself why I am such a failure? I felt I had failed myself, God and everyone. I kept wondering why my heart was always hungry and thirsty after God and my dreams and yet I seemed to do just the opposite of what I wanted and desired. I was drowning in frustration, anger and pain and with tears rolling down my eyes I kept asking God why? Why was I in so much pain? Why was everything going wrong, why, why, why! I had so many questions and yet so little answers. It even seemed that the harder I tried the deeper I sunk into failure and despair. The more I felt alienated from God, my faith and his love for me.

Most of us go through life not really feeling and finding fulfilment or any kind of joy because life has taught us to soar on the wind of pain, hurt and anger. To learn to exist and just go through life not finding who we are and what we can be because ‘not all of us can live a life of potential and greatness. After all life is all about making do with what you can get and being thankful, for it could have been worse’.

We have been taught that it is only the lucky ones that make it and get to live their dreams; the rest of us will just have to make do.

But the question I want to ask is, if making do is all that we have to live for then why does it feel so miserable? Is there a law that says it is okay not to find joy and fulfilment? Why does life, ninety percentage of the time not make sense? The question I want to ask is, if others can find happiness and live to their full potential, is there a reason why you and I cannot be the best that we can be?

It is my hope that through the pages of this book, together we can discover that just because we are down it does not mean we cannot stand again. Remember success is not measured by not falling but by what you do with your falls.

A Cry for Help

I feel a deep cry in my heart.

A cry that beckons me to exploits.

A cry that speaks of never-ending emptiness

An emptiness that I cannot shake off.

Hard as I may try, the emptiness grows deeper,

A feeling of being lost.

I feel like I am pin dropped in hay

That the Farmer searches for and cannot find.

The hay, so consuming, is everywhere

And I, the little pin, am caught in the middle.

Will the Farmer see me? I cannot tell.

I cry out and I scream for help.

The Farmer reaches out for me,

But we cannot seem to find each other.

There is too much hay. It is everywhere.

The feeling of helplessness is everywhere.

Lost and scared, I begin to wonder, will I ever be useful again?

In my desperation, I try to dig myself up.

Instead, I sink deeper into the hay,

And the harder it takes to be found.

I choke, I cannot breathe, I am consumed; all is lost

I cry out again, Farmer! God! Let me die!

I am tired, I am spent; I cannot do it.

But wait—there is fire; it’s everywhere.

Everything is burning up!

The heat, the fire, the pain of death.

It hurts, it wounds, it melts, it scorches.

My heart cries, yet my eyes are dry,

And my pain makes the tears difficult to fall.

My lips are patched and dry.

My mouth opens in a scream, yet no sound is heard.

I am worn, as I lie there, bare, bruised and melted.

Alone with the ashes and scared.

Wait, I am being picked up,

Gathered and in pieces. Bit by bit, the Farmer gathers.

Liquid and melted, He takes me to Himself.

What He will make of me, only He knows.

What I will become is in His hands.

What I do know is the Farmer has me now,

And I know I will be useful again.

IS GOD REALLY GONE?

I was born a healthy child. I was told I weighed nine pounds, cried my lungs out, and ate well. I played well and was healthy. Nothing seemed wrong until a year and ten months later. Mum woke up one morning and noticed signs of paralysis in my right leg. I was burning up with a fever. She saw signs of it during the week but treated it as a simple fever.

When I was taken to the hospital, the doctor said, If you had come earlier, when you noticed the fever, we could have done something to save the leg. But as it is, her right leg is severely damaged by the polio virus. Your daughter won’t be able to gain any strength in her right leg.

Over the years, my parents carried me from one clinic, doctor, hospital, and native doctor to another in the hope of finding a solution for me. I was taken to every person who claimed they could heal me. From faith healers to fetish doctors or native doctors who called on various gods and used various herbs, we roamed the country looking for help. I was given different kinds of herbs and concoctions. I drank some and bathed in some. I smeared some on me, inhaled some, and even had some inserted in my body through my rear. Still, nothing happened. I went through five surgeries before I was seven, and thankfully, I was able to gain some mobility and strength in the leg. However, about seventy percent of the muscles in my right leg were either dead or weak.

I grew up with the stigma of the disabled. Everywhere I went, people saw my disability before they saw me. I tried to be brave through it all, smiling my way through the pain and heartache of rejection. And I almost fooled everybody. When I graduated from secondary school, one of my friends gave me a T-shirt with the inscription, I love your big smiling face. That shirt pretty much described me: the girl with the big, smiling face.

The truth nobody knew was that I read books to keep my mind occupied so I wouldn’t have to face the pain of rejection. When I was not reading, I was busy being busy. I hated the nights most because there was nothing to do. I had to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t come because all the painful memories came flooding back to me. So, at an early age, I learned how to escape from the heartache. Every time I got hurt, I pretended it didn’t happen and smiled through it. Little by little, I built walls around myself that made sure nobody came through to hurt me. I had many acquaintances but no friends. My only friends were my imagination and books. Any book that opened me up to a new world and adventure I could explore more with my imagination when I was alone, and there was nothing to keep me occupied.

At the age of nineteen, when I finally met Jesus and became born again, I immediately transferred my escape route to him. I kept breezing through my pain and hid behind my newfound faith. I poured my everything into him and refused to see anything or anyone else but him. Then, one day I woke up at dawn and realized I was lying alone on my bed, crying and trying so hard to use him as my pain reliever, but he was nowhere to be found.

Sir if you have carried him away and she said crying, tell me where he is, and I will go after him. (John 20:15b)

Like the person in John 20:15b, I felt like someone took God away from me, and I was panicking and feeling lost. The human mind has a way of helping us survive by using every mechanism to help us avoid pain that threatens our sanity. My brain conveniently used my faith in God as an escape—but God had other plans.

Mary had gone to put balms on Jesus’s body, as was customary in those days. But when she arrived, she found the stone had been rolled away, and the body was nowhere to be found. With tears and fear she ran out. Seeing the angel, she asked him, Where is my Lord? I can’t seem to find him where I left him. Where is this God who made so many promises? He was right here; this is where I encountered him before, but I can’t seem to find him again. Lord, where are you?

For years I kept crying for him, refusing to face my pain. I tried using books again, but nothing worked quite like the relief I found in Jesus. I tried work. I worked till two in the morning before I’d go home, wake up at six, and be back at work by seven. Within six months at work, I was promoted and made a department head. I couldn’t date because I didn’t trust any one’s heart. I went through relationships frequently because any relationship that got complicated had to go. Any time a man got serious, I had to say goodbye. Because of my pain, I ended up causing a lot of people pain as well.

Finally, one night after crying and struggling so hard to settle my emotions, I picked up a blade and started cutting my wrist. I believe God sent an angel to save me, because suddenly I felt restrained. No matter how hard I tried to cut, my hand just wouldn’t move. So out of frustration, I got up and went for a walk. I walked as far as my feet could take me, and I cried till there were no more tears to cry. I returned home drained,