Hi Phil,

I really liked that.

I stopped reading during the middle of it, and asked God to heal me 
from a very hurtful situation which happened on Wednesday.

I was talking to a friend of mine on Wednesday, and she and I did not 
agree on something, and she tried to get me to argue with her, and 
she just would not stop. I also know that when I called her to 
apologize to her, and she returned my call on Thursday, at noon, she 
did not apologize to me, when I talked to her on Thursday. She acted 
as though nothing happened, when in fact, I couldn't stand to hear 
her argue with me, or get me to argue with her, any longer, on 
Wednesday, so I told her I was hanging up the phone, and I did just 
that. She had told her daughter, and another close friend, that I 
hung up on her, when in fact, I told her I was hanging up.

Vernon heard both  sides of the conversation on Wednesday afternoon, 
and he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

In the middle of reading your experience, I stopped and I asked the 
demons to leave, and to take that depression and sadness with them, 
and to take that uncertainty about my close friendship with my friend 
who hurt me, along with them. I also thanked Jesus and gave Him the 
power and Glory forever.

Love and Blessings,
Pat Ferguson

At 03:49 PM 2/19/2009, you wrote:
>Linked Memories Unlinked
>
>God's Order Of Healing Woundedness
>
>
>By Phil Scovell
>
>
>
>
>
>
>      I was only about 10 years of age.  Danny and I, my best
>friend as a child, were walking down the street together.  There
>was no sidewalk but the street wasn't a busy one anyway, and we
>were always careful to watch and listen for oncoming traffic.
>
>      Then we saw it.  A green piece of paper, which looked
>suspiciously like a dollar bill, or maybe something even more
>valuable, although a dollar bill was monetarily enormous to a
>couple of boys in 1962, and the race was on.  Danny wasn't
>athletic in any way, shape or form.  We never played baseball, as
>I did with other kids in the neighborhood, because Danny couldn't
>hit the ball no matter how slowly it was thrown to him.  We never
>played football because Danny couldn't throw, or catch, to save
>his life.  He always missed the basket when playing basketball so
>we never did that either, and He couldn't run, and when he did, he
>ran like a girl.  (Forgive me ladies but that's how we thought and
>talked back then.  I know better now).  Since I was on the school
>track team and the second fastest in the elementary school we
>attended, I beat Danny by a country mile.  It was a 5 dollar bill!
>I was rich!  Danny was, as always, broke.
>
>      This memory, for my entire life, has flashed into my mind,
>hundreds and hundreds of times, and for no particular reason which
>I could determine until recently.
>
>      Shortly after spinal stenosis surgery on my neck, no little
>thing in and of itself, I was replying to an email of a friend who
>was describing to me how he had been praying and the Lord not only
>healed him but the first memory led him to a second that he hadn't
>even realized was linked to the first.  Upon relating this memory
>that you have just read to my friend, I admitted to him that I had
>not yet discerned where healing was needed in the memory of Danny
>and the money.  I did admit that I felt sad that I had never
>shared the money with my best friend; thinking that was the
>problem.  After all, that feeling alone would generate guilt and
>guilt is a wonderful, not to mention extremely fertile ground for
>a demon to generate a solid foothold in the life of a Christian.
>"Oh, it doesn't work that way," you say?  "Demons can't influence
>Born Again Believers in such a manner?"  With that sort of
>thinking, I wouldn't want to be in your Christian shoes but let me
>continue and see if I might change your mind; at least to the
>point you might think about it a little.
>
>      Since I felt sadness, and more specifically, mild guilt
>concerning not sharing with my friend when I should have, I did
>the simple thing required; I prayed 1 John 1:9, "If we confess
>our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to
>cleanse us from all unrighteousness."  Thank God for the
>simplicity of the Gospel and the application of Biblical truth to
>everyday life experiences.  So, I was clear and clean.  right?
>Wrong.  Something still felt wrong in this reoccurring memory.
>So, as I told my friend the story, as an illustration, and pressed
>the send keys, I stopped and just sat in my office chair behind my
>desk and focused on the memory event once again.  This time, I did
>something different.
>
>      Considering the thought that guilt was present in the memory
>event, regardless of how low level it may have been, there was
>likely a demonic presence behind it.  It certainly wasn't Jesus,
>and since I had cleared things up by confessing it as sin, it
>couldn't have been the Lord or the Holy Spirit, there was only one
>possibility left.  So I prayed a very specific prayer, which I
>won't repeat here at this time since it can be found elsewhere on
>my website, and sent the demon away who was behind the diabolical
>plot.  Yes, we have such authority, (See Colossians 2:10).
>Knowing he was now gone, I knew I would be able to hear the voice
>of the Lord clearly so I asked Him what I now needed to see as He
>saw it.  In short, I was asking the Lord the nature of the lie
>that remained which the demon was keeping hidden by distracting me
>with the guilt I felt about Danny.  I clearly heard the Lord in my
>thoughts saying, "The lie is related to your father.  The demon
>lied and said your father should have suggested you share with
>Danny.  The demon was saying it was your dad's fault."  I almost
>laughed when I felt the voice of the Lord.  I rarely hear words
>in my mind but feel impressions which I in turn put it into my own
>words.  I knew this was the truth and I know the demon had lied
>and tried covering up the truth with guilt.  I was free.  Now I
>understood.  I still wish, of course, that I had been smart enough
>to have willingly shared with my best friend but that is a
>commonly felt emotion.  A normal person would feel such concern
>for his friend under similar circumstances.  Thus, the sadness was
>a normal human response due to my friendship with Danny.
>
>      "Why is this so important?" I can hear someone asking about
>this time.  That's the easiest aspect of all of this to overlook.
>You see, this whole thing had nothing to do with Danny, the 5
>dollar bill, me, or my dad; it was about God.  "God?"  You heard
>me the first time; it is about God; God the Father.  If a lying
>spirit can confuse us into thinking God isn't really our Father,
>that he acts and thinks like an earthly father, then we will have
>a distorted picture of the true nature and identity of our
>Heavenly Father.  Quick on the heals of this concept of God, comes
>the true nature and identity of the True Lord Jesus Christ.  Most
>of you reading this testimony have, at the least, an indistinct,
>and at the worst, obscure picture of God as your Father.  The rest
>of us have a spiritually cracked and fractured idea of who the
>True Lord Jesus Christ really is.  Most want to believe God the
>Father, and God the Son, are the meanest, harshest, cruelest
>father figures, who love to beat their children just to hear them
>cry.  If you don't think so, just listen to the average sermon
>preached on Hebrews 12:5-11 on the chastisement of the Believer
>and then tell me I'm wrong.  By the way, I've written on this
>passage of Scripture and explained the true meaning so if you need
>to, read it before you call to tell me how wrong I am.  Then come
>and sit with me in prayer sessions and listen to how most people
>speak about their father and why they confess they are afraid of
>God.
>
>      I was sitting out on my deck swing one summer afternoon, and
>thinking of nothing in particular, when a voice, very close to my
>face, said, "Are you afraid of me?"  A few years ago, I would have
>started shaking, my chest would have flushed as if having a heart
>attack, and I would have been confessing the name of Jesus over
>and over again in order to drive the demon I thought was
>whispering into my ear off the planet.  This time, however, I
>recognized it as the voice of the Lord.  It wasn't, by the way,
>His voice speaking to me in my thoughts, not my ear, that
>surprised me; it was my own answer which came immediately and
>without hesitation.  I said, "No.  I'm not afraid of you," and I
>knew it was true.  God didn't and doesn't, frighten me any longer.
>Oh, don't misunderstand me.  I know God's greatness and I know the
>power and authority of His son; Jesus Christ.  It no longer,
>however, scares me.  In fact, we are buddies now because I have
>experienced their power and authority hundreds of times in my life
>just as a simple Christian without a degree, not even an honorary
>degree, although I've been tempted to spend $29.95 for a PhD off
>the internet just for fun, to my name.  I wonder what you think
>about God the Father and the True Lord Jesus Christ?  The
>Friendliest and kindness person I know is Jesus Christ.  The most
>loving and caring person I know is God the Father.  How would you
>identify them?  Through love and freedom of spirit and humor or
>through your unresolved woundedness and pain?  I already know the
>answer but let me relate to you the second memory event which is
>directly linked to the first.
>
>      A memory which has, for some reason, bothered me for most of
>my life occurred when I was about 8 or 10 years of age.  This
>would have been in the early sixties.
>
>      We attended a large, 1,000 member, independent Baptist church
>in Des Moines, Iowa where I was born and raised.  Once a year, or
>so, an all black downtown black church, came to the white suburbs
>and used our baptistery since they had none of their own.  The
>black pastor was a wonderful preacher but the first time he
>baptize some of his people, he almost drowned them due to lack of
>experience.  I didn't think he was doing all that poorly but I
>heard a few snickers around the large auditorium as we watched
>him baptize.  I must admit, he got much better as time went on and
>his church grew and he brought more and more to be water baptized.
>There was little doubt he was a great man of God in my book.
>
>      In my later ears as a student, I attended a Baptist college
>about 10 miles from the church I used to attend.  The black
>pastor was a frequent guest speaker in our daily chapel services
>and we all loved and enjoyed his fiery delivery, theological
>wisdom, doctrinal knowledge, and spiritual insight.
>
>      As a boy attending the large Baptist church, it was no
>surprise to me when my father invited the black pastor and his
>wife, along with several other white people, from the church, to
>come to our house for fellowship following an evening service.
>This was often the case around our house.  In some respect, I was
>a little puzzled.  I had been taught to be careful what you said
>around "colored people," that was the ()PC) politically correct
>term used back then when referring to half way respected blacks,
>because if they happened to be mean, or criminal in nature, they
>might pull out a knife and stab you.  So, I grew up thinking all
>black people carried knives and might be a little dangerous.  I
>didn't have these same feelings about the black pastor.  After
>all, he was a Born Again Christian, my dad liked him, and was even
>inviting him over to our house.  Cool!  I sort of felt proud about
>the whole thing.  Don't get me wrong.  My dad and the black
>preacher never did pal around together, playing golf or going
>fishing together, but my dad admired the man, his Christian
>testimony, and he thought nothing about his color when it came to
>having him over to our house for after evening service
>fellowship.  As I said, several white people were also invited so
>our long driveway, and out in front on the street, had several
>cars parked around the house that night.
>
>      In my day, children were seen and not heard.  An extension
>to this rule was children were not seen at all and especially when
>company was around.  I wasn't told such but I figured it out on my
>own.  So, knowing our little one bedroom house, and finished off
>addict with two additional bedrooms, no heat, and no air
>conditioning, I lived a rough life as you can see, I figured,
>since I enjoyed being outdoors at night, seeing lights, watching
>the moon and stars, and just the enjoyment of doing something
>different, that this time I would spend my time outside while
>company was at the house.
>
>      As I stood watching the people coming to our home, I saw the
>black preacher, and his wife, as well as other whites my father
>had invited for the evening fellowship at our home, going into the
>house.  This particular memory was frozen in my thoughts for
>decades.  I examined it many times to see if something was wrong,
>that is, was there some type of lie associated with this innocent
>event because something always felt slightly wrong but what?
>Nothing ever came to mind until a few months ago.
>
>      As the memory once again flashed into my mind, I examined it
>and as I watched the scene unfold, realizing it was dark already
>and the only light was coming from the porch, I felt, as much as
>hearing the voice in my thoughts, saying, "Your dad didn't want
>the neighbors to know that he was allowing blacks to come to his
>house.  That's why he waited till nightfall."  I was somewhat
>shocked by this revelation.  Yes, my dad occasionally told jokes
>relating to blacks.  It was commonly done at that time in my white
>neighborhood.  Yes, as I afore mentioned, I was literally taught
>to watch what I said around "colored" people because they might
>stab me with their knife if I said something wrong in their
>presence.  Yes, that is racism.  I never, even as a child, felt
>comfortable with all this for some reason.  So, when I felt the
>impression in my mind that my father deliberately invited this
>black preacher to our home after it was dark outside, it didn't
>feel exactly right.  Based upon my upbringing, on the other hand,
>it had a fragment of truth to the suggestion.  That should have
>tipped me off immediately but it didn't.  It didn't until I was
>healed in the memory concerning the event with my friend Danny and
>the 5 dollar bill.
>
>      If you will go back and read the story about Danny and the 5
>dollar bill again, you will clearly see that guilt, as faint as it
>might have been, was masked by personal sorrow that I didn't share
>with my friend when I should have done so.  You will also notice
>that the true lie was not revealed until the guilt was confessed
>as sin to the Lord and the demon behind the lie was removed.  No,
>I saw no demon, but when there is a lie, there is a demonic
>presence always associated with it.  So, from practical
>experience, I knew the lying spirit had to be in that memory
>event.  That's why I prayed and sent him away.  Once he was gone,
>the Lord's voice impressed upon me the part the demon was hiding
>from my understanding when the Lord said:  ""The lie is related to
>your father.  The demon lied and said your father should have
>suggested you share with Danny.  The demon was saying it was your
>dad's fault."
>
>      This lie had a direct link to the second memory, which made
>no more sense to me than the first, nonetheless, I felt something
>was wrong in both memories.  The lie in the second memory event
>was similar to the first.  "It is your dad's fault.  He doesn't
>like black people.  It is dark so that is why he invited these
>people over."  Oddly enough, at first, as this memory flashed into
>my mind, it truly felt as if those words were being spoken outside
>of my mind but it seemed as if those words had always been there,
>thus it had to be true, but it wasn't.  The lie was perpetrated by
>being implanted at a later time in order for the enemy to gain a
>handhold, and hence, the opportunity to advance his devious plan
>to disstablize my relationship with the Lord.
>
>      My point is this.  The key, in both memories, was a lying
>accusation relating to my father.  If I had believe these two,
>seemingly true identifications relating to my father, the Enemy
>could have used the feelings it gave me about my father to advance
>his lies by making them a stronghold against my spiritual concept
>of the nature of God as my father.  He, the Enemy, cannot do that
>now because he has been exposed.
>
>      Furthermore, I want to make it clear that the two memories
>were linked.  I tried, literally for years, to figure out what was
>wrong with the second memory.  Until, that is, one day, the
>thought entered my mind that indeed my father only invited a black
>man to our house under the cover of darkness so neighbors could
>not see we were inviting blacks into our white neighborhood.  Of
>course, that idea is utterly stupid because the porch light
>illuminated the entire front yard and the black man and his wife,
>parked on the street, walked across the length of the entire yard
>as they made their way to the front door and were entirely in the
>light the whole time.  You'd have to be blind not to have noticed
>they were black.  The second memory could not be properly exposed
>until the first memory, about the 5 dollar bill, was cleared of
>the woundedness, (guilt), and ultimately of the lie it contained.
>Then the second memory instantly came to mind and when I saw it, I
>immediately realized the similarity between the two and could pray
>accordingly.
>
>      Someone might point out about this time that these two
>memories, even if what I have reported about them is true, are not
>really all that important.  Perhaps you might say that but you'll
>never find me minimizing the healing power of God.  He wanted
>these memories healed for some reason and that reason, in my
>opinion, was directly related to the Fatherhood of God.  If that
>isn't mighty important to you, someone will have to explain what
>is.  When Jesus is that close and that real that He wants to heal
>childhood memories which contain destructive demonic lies, I'm
>more than willing to receive his truth.  Besides, Jesus isn't
>even remotely interested in your assessment of His eternal work.
>
>      I have no doubt that those reading this testimony have
>experienced, just by reading this, memory events that have popped
>into your thinking.  You may even have experienced the wounded
>emotions related to the memory event itself.  I pray with people
>for the lies to be exposed.  I'm not a one-time, do it all in one
>single session, type of person.  I am an intercessor and if you
>are serious about scheduling prayer session until the lies that
>are hindering you are exposed, and until you can learn the simple,
>but automatic, techniques I used to pray continuously without ever
>moving your lips, give me a call.
>
>
>It Sounds Like God To Me.
>www.SafePlaceFellowship.com