The Wilted Flower: Redemption at Work

By Teresa Ethridge

Dr. Teresa Ethridge, a native Louisianian, was born on January 6, 1962. I arrived in the state of California in 1963, unfortunately, transitioning from a small town to the metropolis of Los Angeles came with many pitfalls. By the age of 16, I had been exposed to the perils of city life and observed decadence that no child should have been expose

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barnes & Noble Publishers
• Release date: Aug 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088046999

Book preview

By Teresa Ethridge, Th.D., Ph.D.

Redemption at work

Copyrights © 2023 by Teresa Ethridge

No part of this book may be reproduced, in any form or by any means, including electronic reproduction, photocopying, without the written permission of the author.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to all persons, male or female who have experienced trauma and had to face their experiences on an emotional, and mental level that the average person would not understand. This book is story of perhaps millions around the world. I will tell the story of the deepest hurts, and most importantly the process of redemption. Redemption looks different in each individual, nonetheless it is available, but we, who have survived must fight a good fight of hope to discover it.

About the Author

Dr. Teresa Ethridge

Dr. Teresa Ethridge, a native Lousianian, was born on January 6, 1962. I arrived in the state of California in 1963, unfortunately, transitioning from a small town to the metropolis of Los Angeles came with many pitfalls. By the age of 16, I had been exposed to the perils of city life and observed decadence that no child should have been exposed to. Victimized by incest, physical abuse, and rape I experienced painful traumatic experiences that took me on an inevitable journey of dysfunctional behavior.

Yet while inside the clutches of Psychological confinement, I defied all odds related to survival and gained my personal freedom. Dr. Ethridge has obtained three Associate degrees in the field of Ministry, Paralegal, and Theology. My continued academic quest resulted in earning a Bachelor’s of Science in Christian Education, and a Bachelor’s of Psychology, addictions specialist. Fighting onward to regain the sense of purpose, I now hold a Master’s degree in Christian Education, and Master’s of Arts in Marriage Family Therapy/LPCC, and finally Doctorate in Theology, Ministry, and an Honorary Ph.D. 

Notwithstanding, and additionally, I hold a certification as Registered Addiction Specialist I, Peer Specialist, as well as a National credentialed Youth Mental Health First Aid Instructor, and US Institute of Diplomacy Human Rights Consultant. Dr. Ethridge is an educator, motivational speaker, Therapist, and Mental Health Consultant.

Table of Content

1        Contents

Foreword

Introduction

Socioeconomic Integration of Schools

2 ​The Hindbrain

2.1 ​The Spinal Cord

2.2 ​The Medulla Oblongata

2.3 ​The Pons

2.4 ​The Cerebellum

3 ​The Limbic System

3.1 ​The Amygdala

3.2 ​The Hippocampus

3.3 ​The Hypothalamus

3.4 ​The Thalamus

4 ​The Neocortex

4.1 ​The Frontal Lobe

4.2 ​The Parietal Lobe

4.3 ​The Temporal Lobe

4.4 ​The Occipital Lobe

4.5 ​Broca's Area

4.6 ​The Corpus Callosum

Complete Agenesis of the Corpus Callosum

Partial Agenesis of the Corpus Callosum

Hypoplasia of the Corpus Callosum

Dysgenesis of the Corpus Callosum

Behavioral Characteristics Related to DCC

Foreword

Dr. Teresa Ethridge, The Wilted Flower Redemption at work book is a raw, provocative, and riveting story of how God took a young girl from a place of nothingness and without substance in her life to a place of wholeness. Although you will not witness the power of God’s redemption in this first book, it is through a rigorous process of self-discovery that she witnesses remarkable transformation and restoration to her own life. Moved by the power of the Holy Spirit, Dr. Etheridge delves into issues that are thought-provoking and sure to challenge you to change your concepts and precepts and ultimately lead you to a place of healing.

The Wilted Flower is not just a book, but it is the factual story of a woman who experienced life on her own terms, only to discover that there are many others who have traveled down roads of uncertainties, to uncover at the end of that road that God never forfeited His plan for your life. Although our lives may have been shipwrecked, we were always destined for greatness, for Jesus proclaimed in John 14:12,

Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in me will also do the works that I do;

And greater works than these will he do because I go to the Father.

While this young girl who is depicted in this story releases dilemmas that often include some paradoxes, it only must come to one expected end, the end that will annihilate the false sense of pride that always ends in self-destruction. The names that will be used in this are fictitious, but the story remains to be factual.

Introduction

A Thousand and One Pieces

Tragedy/Imagery

My tragedy began early in life when I realized that my mother had left me on the doorsteps of her grandparents, which were my great-grandparents. Their names were Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Brown Jr. One beautiful afternoon, I was playing outside, and pretending that I had many friends, I always pretended to have a lot of friends over at my house, but in reality, these were a bunch of dolls lined up outside against our garage and in the mind of a five-year-old, they were my friends and they understood me, and I understood them.

I could sit there for hours talking to them, telling them secrets and they would never tell anyone. I could cuss as I heard the old people doing, and I would not get whippings for it, and I could give them okra and they would hide it for me, never telling anyone. They were truly my friends.

One day, while playing with my dolls, my friends, I felt like something had picked me up, almost as if I was riding on a magic carpet. It was slow and I could see myself literally off the ground, and this force took me up the stairs, and the screen door appeared to have opened by itself. As I entered the house, I noticed that a monster was sitting in my great-grandmother’s rocking chair; I screamed as loud as I could and jumped off the carpet, and ran outside to get my grandpa.

My grandpa was in the front house, visiting with my uncle Charlie. I screamed as loud as I could until I reached the back door of Uncle Charlie’s house; hurriedly my grandpa and my uncle grabbed me, and we ran back to our house. I could hear my grandpa, screaming in a horrible voice, I didn’t know what it meant, but I knew it was something very, very bad. My uncle Charlie tried to hide my eyes, so that I would not see, but I saw my grandma, her face, and her body looked like they had curled themselves into a weird donut. She looked like a monster from a five-year-old perspective, and I was deeply afraid. It was not long until our house was filled with ambulances, firemen, and people I had never seen before. I was taken out of the house, and it would be a few days until I would return there. In the meantime, I stayed with my uncle Charlie and Aunt Salleen, who was Uncle Charlie’s wife. I would learn how to wash dishes, fold clothes, vacuum the carpet and dance for Uncle Charlie.

I often wondered why no one in the house would talk about my grandma. So one day at dinner, I decided to ask my aunt Salleen about my grandma, and she told me that she was never coming back, and that because my mother didn’t want me, I would probably be put in a foster home. ‘What was a foster home,’ I thought to myself, and ‘why wasn’t my grandma coming back?’ I began to cry and beg them to let me go home, but they would not, instead they locked me in my room until I stopped crying. When I came out of my room, I was surprised to look up and see my grandpa standing in the living room, I ran to him and jumped as high on him as I could, needing him to pick me up and give me safety, but he did not. I wanted to tell him about me riding on the carpet, so I figured if I would start telling him about that, he would give me some attention, but he told me to stop making up stories, that this wasn’t the time for that, but I really was taken up on this carpet, I promise I’m telling the truth! He would not speak of it again, and neither did I, at least not to him. He did take me home though, and that made me happy, but it would be nearly two years before I would play with another doll, or see my friends, because every day we went to the hospital. We spent all day visiting my grandma. She cried a lot and my grandfather told me that she had a terrible stroke. The doctors had to cut off her leg and if you were bad, that is what is going to happen to you. ‘So, be good okay?’ Every day, we would ride three or four buses to get to the Harbor General Hospital; we would walk what seemed like for hours and every day I ate hospital hotdogs, watched grandma cry, and scream from being in so much pain.

Some days I would spend sitting in the chair crying, not really understanding why, but one thing I did know; I wanted to go home. Whatever that meant, I knew that I wanted to be back in my house, where everything else I knew looked normal. I really don’t know why I was crying most of the time, but I also knew that I hated hospitals. I hated the smell of hospitals, and definitely couldn’t figure out why all they gave you was dang gon’ hotdogs! Today, I still dislike hospitals.

Two years have passed, since I have had a normal home environment, two years since my hair has been combed like a little girl, and two years since I’ve worn pretty clothes. I looked very poor, and the school kids would tease me every day. My grandmother finally did come home, and our house would be everything else but a home. My grandfather had started drinking liquor by then, and so our day would be filled with cries, his cries and then he would start cussing and fussing. He stayed angry all the time, but I think it was because he was suffering, too. I watched him, as he would stay up all night dressing my grandma’s bandages, rubbing her stump as he would call it, and then the crying would start all over again. I could hear him praying to somebody named God, begging, and pleading for some help, but I do not think help ever came, because the nights continued with screams and cursing from my grandfather.

I began to hate my grandma because she made our lives miserable. Then one day, my grandpa called me unto himself, and he sat me on his lap; he had been drinking as usual and he began to tell me some weird old stories about him and grandma, and then he started rubbing my little chest. I thought he was tickling me, so I would laugh, but grandma was watching, and I would come to know that she saw differently. Soon after that, she became very mean towards me, and eventually, she told my grandfather he would have to get rid of me, and he would have to send me away. Far, far away…

The day I boarded the airplane going to Louisiana, to a family I never saw, was the day I died."

This picture was drawn out of fear, abandonment, and ultimately a loss of identity. The book you are about to embark upon, The Wilted Flower Redemption at work" is comprised of life experiences, life follies, and the impact it all had on my life. My prayer is that as you come to the final pages of this book, you would have found a quiet place within your heart and discovered solace there. In that place is where the gentleness of the Holy Spirit will lead you into repentance and you will find your way back home as I did and begin to put the pieces of your life’s mystery back together again.

THE CHIEF END OF MAN IS TO GLORIFY GOD AND TO ENJOY HIM FOREVER[rs1]

According to the Westminster Catechism, the chief end of man is truly to Glorify God and to enjoy Him forever…

Lord’s Prayer or Our Father, the only formula of prayer attributed to Jesus Christ in the New Testament and the most widely used prayer of Christians, appears in two forms: A longer form in Matthew 6:9-13 is a part of the teaching on prayer in the Sermon on the Mount; a shorter form in Luke 11:2-4 is given as a response to the disciples’ request, Lord, teach us to pray.

The Prayer consists of an introduction and seven petitions in the Matthew version, which seems to be a liturgical expansion of the original utterance of Christ. The Matthaean form, which has been employed liturgically since very early times, is

Our Father who art in heaven,

Hallowed be thy name.

Thy Kingdom come,

Thy will be done,

On earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our daily debts,

As we also have forgiven our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation,

But deliver us from evil.

A closing doxology, For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, was added to the prayer in ancient times, although it does not appear in most manuscripts of the Bible and is only a footnote in the Revised Standard Version. Its incorporation into the Lord’s Prayer as early as the 1st century is attested by the version of the prayer in the Didache, a brief manual of instruction for converts to Christianity. Many Protestants ordinarily recite the doxology as part of the Lord’s Prayer; Roman Catholics incorporate it into the recitation of the prayer at Mass but generally do not use it in private recitation.

The seven petitions of the prayer are modeled on the Psalms. The first three petitions are concerned with the glorification of God, and the last four are requests for divine assistance to humankind. The prayer reflects a community based on an eschatological hope, that is, a community praying for the completion of God’s final plan. The petitions concerning forgiveness, temptation, and deliverance from evil are, in fact, best understood in relation to the end times. The prayer is actually a synthesis of the Christian faith; its balanced structure makes it an expression of the biblical hierarchy of values: first the things of God, then human concerns.

After baptism, the Lord’s Prayer is the best-known bond of unity among Christians of every tradition and is always recited in ecumenical gatherings.

The following contemporary version of the prayer, used especially in Protestant and Roman Catholic youth services, was approved by an international and ecumenical body known as the International Consultation on English Texts.

Our Father in heaven,

Holy be our name,

Your kingdom come,

Your will be done,

On earth as in heaven.

Give us today our daily bread. Forgive us our sins

As we forgive those who sin against us.

Do not bring us to the test

But deliver us from evil.

For the kingdom, the power,

And the glory

Are yours now and forever.

I thank my God that He has given me His grace to endure the test, for all who are adopted into the family of Jesus Christ, must be tested by fire…

It is well for the soul to reconnect to the giver of life and breath, to find rest in His precious words of comfort. I will utilize pillars of growth and process to exploit my past, and my present and speak into the future, guided by the Power of the Holy Spirit.

Chapter One.

From the tender age of seven years old through the age of ten years old, my image was formed from everything I saw from a young child’s perspective. Whether or not it is truth or fiction, that remains to be seen, but in the mind of a five-year-old, it indeed was true. The first image I perceived was derived from the pain and emotions of abandonment. My fantasy with dolls and a sudden thrust into chaos would be too much for a five-year-old, but this little girl would learn survival skills. Some of which would be negative, and some hopefully would be positive, nevertheless they would be ones that kept her alive.

Early one Saturday morning, I was awakened, Ann! Wake up! Your father is here! I remember thinking to myself, My father? Who was that and what was that? Slowly I got out of bed, went to the bedroom door, and there stood a tall handsome man, and his voice was very soothing. I could hear the voices in the living room, talking about me, and this man saying things like She will be alright. What did he mean that I would be alright? What was wrong with me? My grandma screamed, Ann! Hurry up and get dressed, your daddy’s here. So, I hurried and was soon dressed, and came out into the living room.

Standing there, looking at this very tall man, I asked him, what his name was. He said, My name is Charles, I am your father. I came to take you home with me. I began to shake so badly in my skin, that I felt like I wanted to urinate on myself, so I ran to the bathroom. And I stayed in there until the man called Charles would come and got me out of the bathroom.

Every weekend after that, this man would come to pick me up and take me to his house, where his wife named Bernell would be. Bernell was a nice-looking woman, young and in her early thirties. She appeared to be a genuinely nice person in the beginning, however, it didn’t take long before she would get tired of babysitting another woman’s child, even if it was her husband’s daughter. In the early stages, we would go everywhere together, she had boys so having a girl was like having a little princess with her.